Summer on the Cape by J.M. Bronston Read Free Book Online Page B

her body was aware of his presence, as though his hands—those fine, work-hardened hands, those hands that felt rough and gentle at the same time—were passing over her whole body, exploring her, stroking her hair and her face and feeling their way, through her clothes, to the shivering, tingling skin concealed inside. She felt her own response, a spasm quivering deep inside herself.
    Like an alarm, there was a sudden piercing sound from the main cabin, a high-pitched shriek that startled Allie out of her almost mesmerized state. Zach’s face broke into a broad grin, a brief laugh escaping his lips. “It’s just the teakettle,” he said wryly. “Maybe the gods are sending us a message.” He went quickly into the galley to turn off the flame beneath the whistling kettle. “We’d better have that cup of coffee now.”
    She stood up, the insides of her legs feeling weak and unsteady.
    What could she have been thinking? She hardly knew the man!
    Zach was pouring the boiling water into the mugs. Then he set the coffee and a shaker of sugar on the table, and Allie sat down at the little table, glad that her knees were returning to their normal state.
    She sipped at the hot coffee, unaware that as she did, Zach was taking advantage of the opportunity to continue his sensual examination of her face, enjoying the smooth creaminess of her skin, the soft bangs feathering past her eyebrows. A remnant of paint was on the bridge of her nose and, as she drank from her mug, her long, golden lashes lay like a gentle fringe on her cheek. He was intrigued by those ragged bangs, that smudge of paint. He wanted to reach his hand across the table and brush the hair away from her beautiful hazel eyes. He wanted to feel those golden lashes against his lips. He imagined her lifting those lashes, letting him look into the bright depths of her glowing, mysterious eyes.
    For the moment, he closed his mind to the fact that she was living at Adam’s place, that she was working with Adam. Zach let himself enjoy the pleasure of her presence. This woman, he thought, is someone really special. The sight of her, yesterday, coming out of the plane, would have been enough. But now that he’d seen her work, seen her talent, he realized she was not only beautiful and bright. This woman, he realized, was special.
    “I’d like to talk to you about your painting of Sea Smoke ,” he said, letting his eyes continue to enjoy her intriguing beauty. Over the rim of her mug, Allie raised her eyebrows questioningly. “I was wondering if it might be for sale.” He hesitated, realizing he’d just made an impulsive decision to purchase the watercolor. “Do you mind my asking?”
    “Of course not,” she said, putting down her mug. She was surprised that this was turning into a business discussion. “That’s why I paint pictures, so people will buy them.” She laughed, a little ruefully. “That’s how I pay my rent, and buy bread and milk and silly things like that. The thing is”—she paused momentarily, hoping he wouldn’t think she was trying to put him off—“I don’t sell them myself. I have an agent, and he handles all of that for me.”
    In a flash, Zach’s eyes hardened. “You mean Adam Talmadge?”
    Allie caught the abrupt hostility of his tone and she remembered his ugly insinuations yesterday about her and Adam. Instantly, her fury of the day before returned. She felt herself stiffen, the warmth of a few moments ago disappearing quickly.
    “Of course! Adam is my agent. I already told you that. He handles all my business matters.” Suddenly she didn’t care if Zach Eliot never owned a picture of hers. “If you’re thinking of buying the picture, you’re going to have to talk to him,” she said sharply. In her mind, the image appeared of a business negotiation between the small-town Zach Eliot and the urbane Adam Talmadge.
    I’d love to be a fly on that wall, she thought caustically. Adam would eat up this simple sailor man in