What the Waves Bring by Barbara Delinsky Read Free Book Online Page B

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approval must come from the subject himself. It came with a heart-stopping smile.
    â€œHeath it is, then. Now,” he said, shifting the topic quickly, amusing April with his establishment of priorities, “I saw some very appetizing salami on the verge of smelling up that icebox of yours. Got any Swiss cheese?”
    Gamefully, she prodded. “If you can’t remember anything, how would you know to look for Swiss cheese?”
    His brilliant white smile was proof of his joining the game. He, too, recognized its therapeutic value. “Who knows, perhaps I come from a long line of mice.”
    â€œFat chance!” she chuckled, appreciatively eyeing his masculine physique for a final moment before heading for the food.
    Over salami and cheese on rye, Heath probed the very professional side of Dr. April Wilde. “Exactly what is your work? A doctorate in counseling sounds pretty vague to me.”
    â€œIn New York I had a small practice counseling private patients. But the larger part of my work deals with writing.”
    â€œI’m listening …”
    So was April. “I think the storm’s letting up.”
    â€œUh-huh. Either that, or we’re in its eye.”
    A mischievous grin toyed about her pink lips. “You may be right at that, Heath.”
    Even as he pondered her humor, he urged her on. “What do you write?”
    â€œJournal articles. Expert opinions. But, most regularly, I have a syndicated column. It appears now in two dozen newspapers across the country.”
    Her pride was contagious. “Very impressive.” He nodded, balancing his chair precariously on its hind legs. “And what do you talk about in this column?”
    For an instant, her mind was diverted by his agility. “Maybe you were a gymnast? Or a stunt man?” She lifted
an eyebrow toward his back-tilted chair, then turned her attention to his question. “Hmm? Oh, it’s a question-and-answer type of thing.” She held his gaze, alert to his reaction. “Readers of the papers write to me, care of the newspaper office, and then I choose freely which issues to discuss. Though I usually deal with psychological matters, there are frequent references to more mundane matters,” she smirked, “such as managing a budget.” Suddenly, she had an idea. “I can show you my next column.” She hesitated. “ … if you’d like.” Her voice ended on a softer, less sure note.
    â€œI’d like that very much.” His forcefulness restored her confidence. “But how do you manage to handle all your work from this house? It’s rather remote, isn’t it?”
    April grinned triumphantly. “Bingo! My Apple—a computer! It sends whatever I want over the phone lines to a terminal in New York.”
    The dark head dipped in understanding. “Very clever.”
    â€œExcept,” she said, quickly qualifying his assessment, “when the phone lines are dead and there is no electricity …”
    Her remark suddenly reminded them of their predicament. With a jarring thud, the legs of his chair hit the floor. “That does seem to be a problem.” He stood with a frown, withdrawing before her eyes to a more preoccupied state. Without further word, he gathered the dishes and brought them to the sink, once again prompting April to contemplate his domesticity. Someone had trained him well, she mused with feministic fervor, as she studied the enigmatic fierceness of his dark form. Yes, he was aptly named. He was strong and resilient. At the moment there was a bit of that brooding, moody Heathcliff about him. She smiled—then sobered instantly. How little she really knew of him! What would the next day or two reveal? A shiver of apprehension ran through her limbs as she forced herself toward the living room and the manila parcel on
her desk. Moments later she spread its contents on the clean kitchen table. Heath stood over