Turn Back the Dawn by Nell Kincaid Read Free Book Online

to seriously consider suggesting that she audition. There was something startling about the young woman, and that was the very quality Kate felt was most important in casting the ad. They didn't want faces that were too beautiful, off-putting to all but the most confident viewers. But they did want attractive. Special people with flair. And this young woman—dressed all in white, from her cowboy hat to her jeans to her boots—had a definite flair. Her hair was auburn, her eyes dark blue, and her skin was fair and smooth. And though her features were unusual—a full mouth, high cheekbones, high forehead—she was arrestingly pretty. And then Kate heard her give her name to the receptionist: Alexandra Dayton.
    A few moments later, when she sat down near Kate, Kate introduced herself. They talked for a bit—about Alexandra's search for an apartment, about the modeling business and Alexandra's dread of the audition—and Kate found her natural and charming. When other people finally began filing in—employees, actors and actresses for the
    audition, messengers—Kate and Alexandra wound the conversation down. And then Ben strode in—his hair windblown, his cheeks red from the autumn chill. He lit up when he saw Kate. "Come on in to my office," he said, smiling. And she went with him down the long hall to his office.
    It was the first time Kate had seen it, and she loved it immediately. It was very spare and businesslike, leaving the focus of the room to the magnificent view that swept down Madison Avenue. The furniture was all modern— deep, rich brown leather couches and chairs, sleek black desk and conference table. And there were more poster-size framed ads on the cream-colored walls.
    When Ben closed the door softly behind him, Kate turned and looked at him, suddenly unaware of the surroundings, aware only that she was alone with him.
He looked wonderful. With his sheepskin jacket and corduroy pants he was a man with his own style—not like the hordes of Burberry-coated men rushing up and down Madison and Park avenues every morning.
His lips curved into a crooked, amused smile. "Am I wearing pajama bottoms?" he asked, looking downward. When he looked back at Kate, it was with a sparkle in his eyes. "You're looking at me as if I forgot something very crucial.
    She laughed. "No, no. I was just—staring, maybe— because I liked what you were wearing. Not the usual succesful-man-working-on-Madison-Avenue outfit."
    He smilled. "Good." He tilted his head and looked at her speculatively. "But you know me better than that." He smiled "I hope I'm more of a man going against the grain," he said, looking into her eyes. He came up close
    to her then, and put his hands warmly and temptingly over her hips. "I'm so glad to see you, Kate," he said softly.
    He leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers. She pulled him closer, wrapping her arms around him and opening her lips to the delicious warmth of his tongue. What she loved most about kissing him was the way every moment was deep with need, the way he seemed to want her so very, very much. And he wanted to please her as well, kissing her deeply but gently, deepening the kiss only when she wanted more. With a moan that rose from deep inside she drew him in, tasting him with an ecstasy of pleasure, reveling in the heat that was enveloping them both.
    Then slowly, gently, he drew back. "Kate," he whispered. And then he smiled broadly, hazel eyes shining with pleasure. "We do have to stop meeting like this, you know. Cliché or not."
    She raised her chin and smiled. "What did you have in mind?"
    "Oh, dinner. Dancing. Making love."
    He brought his mouth down on hers then, in a long, deep kiss that spread pulsating heat through her body, weakening her limbs, firing her with a core of yearning that burned deep inside. He tasted wonderful, and she wanted more. She wanted to feel his warm skin against her own, to feel his slim hips against hers, to feel his long, muscular legs