Summer Storm by Joan Wolf Read Free Book Online Page B

said Carolyn Nash, the pretty Ophelia. “Did you really do your own stunt work?” She had large, pansy-brown eyes and they were directed worshipfully up at his dark face.
    “Yes.”He smiled a little ruefully. “I must say I kept on suggesting they get a professional stunt guy in, but the director never saw it that way. Unfortunately.”
    “Why not?” asked Mary suddenly. There had been some very dangerous scenes in his last film, she recalled.
    “Saving money, I expect,” he replied and ate another forkful of meat.
    Mel Horner snorted. “Don’t you believe it. They didn’t get a stunt man because no one else looks like Chris. More important—no one moves like he does. But he was quite safe, Dr. O’Connor, I assure you.”
    Mary was intensely annoyed. “I’m quite sure that Kit can take care of himself,” she said sweetly.
    At her use of that name the two girls’ heads swung around and they stared at her, big-eyed and speculative. “Kit?” said Carolyn on a note of inquiry.
    Mary stared at him in exasperation. “It’s a nickname for Christopher,” he said blandly and smiled kindly into Carolyn’s small face.
    She looked like a kitten that has just been stroked. “Why do you say Chris was safe doing those stunts?” she asked Mel innocently.
    “He’s much too valuable a property for a production company to allow anything to happen to him,” Mel said bluntly. “There aren’t many stars around these days whose very name guarantees a stampede at the box office.”
    Kit shot a look at his agent and Mary said even more sweetly than before, “I suppose that’s true.”
    Black eyes stared at her face for a minute and then he asked, with precisely the same intonation she had used, “And did you graduate summa cum laude again?”
    She looked thoughtfully back and then, suddenly, smiled. “I’m sorry.”
    He made a brief gesture with his hand. “Okay.” And he went back to eating his dinner.
    “I don’t know how you stay so thin and eat so much,” complained Mel, looking with envy at his client. Mel had a very pronounced potbelly.
    “He basically only eats one meal a day,” Mary replied absently. She realized what she had said and flushed. “At least he did.”
    “I still do.” There was definite amusement in Kit’s deep beautiful voice.
    “I have a friend in one of your courses. Dr. O’Connor,” Frank Moore said to her and she turned to him in relief.
    “Oh? Who is that?”
    “Jim Henley.”
    “Oh, yes.” Mary smiled. “I know Mr. Henley. He’s in my senior seminar.”
    “I have to confess I wrote and asked him what you were like when we knew you would be giving the lectures this summer.”
    “Oh?” She sipped her water.
    “And what did this Jim Henley say?” asked Kit mischievously.
    “He sent me back a telegram.” Frank grinned. “It had only two words on it: Drool Drool.”
    Kit laughed and so did Mel Horner and George Clark. Mary, who had developed a technique for dealing with drooling male students, said coolly, “Did he? How disappointing. I thought Mr. Henley had the makings of a scholar.”
    Frank Moore flushed and George Clark and Mel Horner sobered immediately. Only Kit still had a wicked glint in his eyes.
    “That’s the girl,” he said encouragingly. “I bet that cool expression really keeps them at a distance.”
    She bit her lip. The trouble with Kit, she thought, was he always could make her laugh. She wrinkled her nose at him. “It does.”
    His eyes laughed back at her but after a minute he turned to Mel Horner. “By the way, Mel, I want you to arrange a press conference. Tomorrow afternoon will be as good a time as any I suppose.”
    Mel Horner’s mouth dropped open. “A press conference?” he almost squeaked. “You never hold press conferences. I’ve been begging you for years...”
    “Well, I will hold one tomorrow,” said Kit with ominous calm. “What’s more, I think the rest of the cast should be there. And George as well.”
    “Are you