Shadow Play by Katherine Sutcliffe Read Free Book Online Page A

dismissed the idea. It simply wouldn't work. The letter would take weeks to reach Norman, and besides, even a hint of scandal would send the Sheffields into a panic.
    Twisting her hands together, she walked the length of the room. Around her, crates were piled toward the ceiling, each packed with her father's belongings—all she had left of his life and achievements. Already plans were in motion to place the furnishings in a warehouse where they would await shipment back to England. And for what? Even these meager articles would be gone as soon as the investors learned of her father's bankruptcy.
    She had no choice.
    She must convince the American... somehow.
    The night was hot and still, the silence interrupted only by an occasional rumble of thunder that tinkled the crystal prisms of the chandelier overhead. They ate without conversation. Sarah could not find the courage to bring up the subject of Japura\ and the American seemed content to drink his whiskey, pick at his food, and study his surroundings at length.
    He appeared most interested in the portrait of Sarah that hung on the wall behind her. He would stare at it for minutes, then watch her for such an excruciating long time that it made her uneasy.
    When it became apparent that neither of them was particularly hungry, she suggested that he might prefer to finish his drink on the veranda, where it was cooler. He agreed, asked Kan for another whiskey, and escorted her from the room.
    Even out of doors there was little relief to be found from the pressing heat and humidity—or the tension that was mounting between them. The American still refused to speak, just stood at the veranda wall and watched a spot of light from a ship on the horizon. He reached into his coat and withdrew a cigarette, slid it between his lips, then dug for a match in his pocket; he struck it on the wall. Sarah watched the yellow light dance upon his features as he cupped his hands around it and touched it to the cigarette. His brows drew together as he threw back his head with a heavy exhalation; then he tossed the matchstick into the darkness, looked at her, and grinned.
    "Isn't it about time we get down to business, Miss St. James?"
    She sat on the edge of her chair, as stiff as marble.
    The American laughed and leaned one hip upon the wall ledge, allowing his leg to swing
    back and forth. His hand rested on his thigh, cigarette apparently forgotten for
    the moment. "You want me to risk my neck to go back into Japure and confront King."
    She remained motionless, her body tense, her eyes captured by the hand on his leg. It was brown and long-fingered, a hand capable of strength and gentleness. Suddenly she recalled him caressing the woman the night before, first roughly, then tenderly.
    "Miss St. James."
    She turned her gaze to his.
    "I believe you were about to make me a sizable offer to go to Japura\" he said.
    "Sizable?"
    He flicked the butt of his cigarette with his thumb, spilling ashes to the floor. "A journey involving such risks would demand a sizable prize."
    "Such as?"
    A shaft of dread sliced through her as one corner of his mouth tipped up in something just short of a smile. His eyes grew darker, shadowed by his lowered lashes.
    "That would depend," came his quiet reply.
    "On?" She wet her lips and wondered if Kan was close by.
    "Some rewards are richer than money for a man, Miss St. James."
    "Just what are you asking?" she said.
    "What's it worth to you?"
    She looked at him without flinching. "Everything I own."
    "Everything?" The smile flashed again. She yearned to slap it from his face; then, recalling the sting of her palm against his cheek the night before, she felt hot. She glanced at the punkah overhead and longed for a hankie to blot the dampness from her brow. She wished she'd never set eyes on Morgan Kane kissing that woman with his tongue. It made her flustered and confused and angry every time she thought about it. The very idea was indecent. Imagine a woman allowing