Paradise Burning by Blair Bancroft Read Free Book Online Page A

working . . . so now would be a good time
to explore.
    The day before, she’d come away with little
beyond an impression of elegant space surrounded by a broad deck
and a spectacular view of the Florida wilderness. Now, however . .
.
    The door had opened into a gleaming white
kitchen with state-of-the-art gadgets. As Mandy looked around, her
eyes lit with secret amusement. She actually knew what all these
appliances were for and how to use them. Last night she’d turned
down Peter’s offer to stay for supper, scooting home like the devil
was after her, leaving him standing on the deck, glowering. But
intimacy, even a simple dinner, must be shunned. She was weak, she
knew her limits. And that included revealing she’d taken a
comprehensive course in cookery. Which was much too much like
groveling. But one of these days she’d surprise him.
    Maybe.
    Mandy wandered into an adjacent room
that seemed to be a cross between a classic library and a
traditional family room. Pausing to examine a floor-to-ceiling
collection of books, she ran a finger along the row of Jack Higgins
and James Patterson, scowled at Hemingway. Her hand lingered over
the frayed binding of Pride and
Prejudice . Surprisingly, it seemed to be one of
Peter’s favorites as well as her own. A vision of Keira Knightly as
Elizabeth Bennet wandering, awed, through Pemberley filled her
head. Mandy frowned. The implications of Jane Austen’s study in the
fallacies of stubborn pride and misconceptions were not
comfortable. She was having enough trouble dealing with Peter
without a reminder that she too might be at fault.
    Abruptly, Mandy abandoned the cozy family
room, but paused on the threshold to the vast central greatroom,
seeing not the living area, but only the view. The east wall was
nothing but panels of glass opening to the broad, partially covered
deck and to the endless uninhabited expanse of river and jungle
beyond. A primeval Eden. As if the world had dropped away, leaving
Peter and herself to renew civilization. And themselves.
    A powerful, seductive thought. She doubted
Amanda Armitage, the keyboard mouse, was up to such earth-shaking
responsibility. But what about the daughter of that dynamic duo,
Jeffrey Armitage and Eleanor Kingsley? That Amanda would never let
a man get away twice.
    Mandy forced her gaze back to the room around
her. She didn’t have to be an art expert to recognize that the oils
and watercolors adorning the off-white walls were all originals.
And by artists of exceptional talent. The coffee table, formed by
an oval of glass laid on top of an artistic tangle of thick grape
vines was also a work of art. And the glass collection . . .
    All else forgotten, Mandy rushed to the
lighted display case, the sudden sparkle in her eyes matching the
shimmer of the objects inside. She had been only four years old
when her Grandmother Kingsley had introduced her to the infinite
possibilities of glass. One trip to see the glass flowers at
Harvard, and Mandy was lost. The museum became her second favorite
spot, right behind the swanboats on Boston Common. As she grew
older and acquired money, she had begun her own modest
collection.
    And, amazingly, Peter must have remembered.
Mandy’s eyes devoured the beautiful objects in the case. Colorful
paperweights, a plate of red and gold glass fit to serve a queen,
glowing multi-hued flowers inside a rounded crystal bowl, a
delicate goblet of midnight blue, glittering geometric shapes and
free-form sculptures. The collection, though small, was excitingly
lovely. Eclectic. Chihuly, Dejonghe, possibly a Heilman . . .
    She re-examined the collection, piece by
piece. And there . . . how could she have missed it? Crouched at
the front of the second shelf from the top was a small glass mouse.
A shy creature, dwarfed by the more ostentatious beauty surrounding
it. A fragile translucent rodent not more than three inches nose to
tail.
    Mouse . When
Peter had first called her Mouse, it had been all too fitting,