Promises in the Night: A Classic Romance - Book 2 by Barbara Bretton Read Free Book Online
Authors: Barbara Bretton
Tags: Romance, Contemporary
Besides, I don’t think Alex is the kind of man who goes in for this sort of thing.”
“This is getting interesting,” Roger said. “What sort of man is he?”
“Intense, confident, logical—”
“You sound like you’re describing Mr. Spock. I thought we were talking about a possible romance.”
“Your words, Roger, not mine. I told you before, it was a business conversation.”
She remembered the way Alex had watched her during her speech—the feeling of power and energy that radiated from him had been almost palpable up on the stage. She could still see the way he leaned forward in his chair as if he could reach out and pluck her ideas out of the air. She had responded to his challenge, her mind sparking with new ideas before her lips had formed the old ones.
And when they had shared drinks in the Tree House, she had found herself mesmerized by the intensity of his gaze, by the play of light and shadow on his handsome face, and secretly pleased that he seemed to take delight in her, as well.
Not Dr. Jakobs, she thought. When he declared himself to a woman, he wouldn’t use a Federal Express messenger as his Miles Standish.
Suddenly a wave of exhaustion, the product of a very long day, overcame her and she yawned.
“Is that your way of telling me I should go home?”
She laughed. “No. It’s my polite way of asking you if you would go home. We’ll save playing Sherlock Holmes for tomorrow, okay?”
Right now the only thing Larkin wanted to do was curl up by the fire in the den and ponder all the ways a man like Alex Jakobs could find to tell a woman he wanted her.
----
“ G ood show , Doc.”
Alex removed his lapel mike, then smiled wearily at his stage manager.
“Thanks, Sal. For a while there I thought you and the staff were going to have to make a few of the phone calls yourselves.”
During the call-in portion of the show, there had been a nerve-racking eight minutes when the phone console didn’t light up once.
“It was hairy for a few minutes,” Sal said, “but don’t sweat it. The system’s to blame, not your ratings.”
“I got a little worried when I saw the crew splitting around the halfway mark!’
“They all headed over to Larry’s house for one of his all-night poker parties. Feel like coming?”
Any other night Alex would have jumped at the chance. His cool logic usually fell apart before the lure of a stack of chips and a night of draw poker.
“I’m going to pass on it this time, Sal. I have an article deadline to meet.”
“Larry’s calling out for pastrami sandwiches. Are you sure I can’t convince you?”
“Sorry. Duty calls.”
Sal doused the stage lights. “We’re gonna miss you, Doc.”
Alex grinned. “I’m sure you will,” he said dryly. “You were probably all figuring on making some money off me tonight.” He got up from behind the prop desk and stretched his long arms overhead. “Count me in next time, okay?”
Sal hurried off to finish his duties so he could get to the game, and Alex headed for the office he shared with two other “stars.” The building was totally quiet except for the sounds of the cleaning crew down the hall. For a second, Alex was tempted to catch up with Sal and say he’d changed his mind about the poker game—anything to avoid the sudden sweep of loneliness that bore down on him.
He wanted to believe that it was the greyness of the day that brought this melancholy mood on; who wouldn’t be affected by the somber skies and windswept rains of the past few days?
“Who am I kidding?” he said out loud as he grabbed his trench coat off the hook just inside the door to his office. Larkin Walker of the Renaissance face and enormous green eyes was responsible for this mood. Any other explanation was a dodge, a flimsy excuse for the way he’d responded to her that afternoon.
He reached into the deep pocket of his coat and fished around for his car keys, then headed out to the parking lot. In the years since
“This is getting interesting,” Roger said. “What sort of man is he?”
“Intense, confident, logical—”
“You sound like you’re describing Mr. Spock. I thought we were talking about a possible romance.”
“Your words, Roger, not mine. I told you before, it was a business conversation.”
She remembered the way Alex had watched her during her speech—the feeling of power and energy that radiated from him had been almost palpable up on the stage. She could still see the way he leaned forward in his chair as if he could reach out and pluck her ideas out of the air. She had responded to his challenge, her mind sparking with new ideas before her lips had formed the old ones.
And when they had shared drinks in the Tree House, she had found herself mesmerized by the intensity of his gaze, by the play of light and shadow on his handsome face, and secretly pleased that he seemed to take delight in her, as well.
Not Dr. Jakobs, she thought. When he declared himself to a woman, he wouldn’t use a Federal Express messenger as his Miles Standish.
Suddenly a wave of exhaustion, the product of a very long day, overcame her and she yawned.
“Is that your way of telling me I should go home?”
She laughed. “No. It’s my polite way of asking you if you would go home. We’ll save playing Sherlock Holmes for tomorrow, okay?”
Right now the only thing Larkin wanted to do was curl up by the fire in the den and ponder all the ways a man like Alex Jakobs could find to tell a woman he wanted her.
----
“ G ood show , Doc.”
Alex removed his lapel mike, then smiled wearily at his stage manager.
“Thanks, Sal. For a while there I thought you and the staff were going to have to make a few of the phone calls yourselves.”
During the call-in portion of the show, there had been a nerve-racking eight minutes when the phone console didn’t light up once.
“It was hairy for a few minutes,” Sal said, “but don’t sweat it. The system’s to blame, not your ratings.”
“I got a little worried when I saw the crew splitting around the halfway mark!’
“They all headed over to Larry’s house for one of his all-night poker parties. Feel like coming?”
Any other night Alex would have jumped at the chance. His cool logic usually fell apart before the lure of a stack of chips and a night of draw poker.
“I’m going to pass on it this time, Sal. I have an article deadline to meet.”
“Larry’s calling out for pastrami sandwiches. Are you sure I can’t convince you?”
“Sorry. Duty calls.”
Sal doused the stage lights. “We’re gonna miss you, Doc.”
Alex grinned. “I’m sure you will,” he said dryly. “You were probably all figuring on making some money off me tonight.” He got up from behind the prop desk and stretched his long arms overhead. “Count me in next time, okay?”
Sal hurried off to finish his duties so he could get to the game, and Alex headed for the office he shared with two other “stars.” The building was totally quiet except for the sounds of the cleaning crew down the hall. For a second, Alex was tempted to catch up with Sal and say he’d changed his mind about the poker game—anything to avoid the sudden sweep of loneliness that bore down on him.
He wanted to believe that it was the greyness of the day that brought this melancholy mood on; who wouldn’t be affected by the somber skies and windswept rains of the past few days?
“Who am I kidding?” he said out loud as he grabbed his trench coat off the hook just inside the door to his office. Larkin Walker of the Renaissance face and enormous green eyes was responsible for this mood. Any other explanation was a dodge, a flimsy excuse for the way he’d responded to her that afternoon.
He reached into the deep pocket of his coat and fished around for his car keys, then headed out to the parking lot. In the years since