Carrera's Bride. Diana Palmer
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Название: Carrera's Bride

Автор: Diana Palmer

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Современная зарубежная литература

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СКАЧАТЬ it just? I’m sorry, I don’t remember your name. But I do remember your face. I watched you put together a block from the bow tie quilt on that television show. Well, I’m impressed. Not that many men participate, even today.”

      He laughed. “We’re gaining on you women,” he said with a twinkle in his dark eyes. “There’s a Texas Ranger and a police officer who enter competitions with me these days. We travel together sometimes to the events.”

      “You’re good,” she said, her eyes going back to the book of photos.

      “I’d like to see some of your work,” he remarked.

      She laughed. “I’m not quite in your league,” she said. “I teach, but I’ve never won prizes.”

      “What do you do when you’re not teaching?”

      “I run an alterations shop and work with a local dry cleaner,” she said. “I do original fashions for a little boutique as well. I don’t make a lot of money at it, but I love my work.”

      “That’s more important than the amount of money you make,” he said.

      “That’s what I always thought. One of my girlfriends married and had a child, and then discovered that she could make a lot of money with a law degree in a big city. She took the child and went to New York City, where she got rich. But she was miserable away from her husband, a rancher back home, and she had no time at all for the child. Then they filed for divorce.” She shook her head. “Sometimes we’re lucky, and we don’t get what we think will make us happy. Anyway, I learned from watching her that I didn’t want that sort of pressure, no matter how much money I could make.”

      “You’re mature for your age. You can’t be more than twenty…?” he probed.

      Her eyebrows arched and she grinned. “Can’t I?”

      Chapter Two

      “I’ll bite, then,” he murmured, going back to pick up her dress and finish his neat stitches. “How old are you?”

      “Gentlemen are not supposed to ask ladies questions like that,” she pointed out.

      He chuckled, deep in his throat, his eyes on his fingers. “I’ve never been called a gentleman in my life. So you might as well tell me. I’m persistent.”

      She sighed. “I’m twenty-three.”

      He glanced at her with an indulgent smile. “You’re still a baby.”

      “Really?” she asked, slightly irritated.

      “I’ll be thirty-eight my next birthday,” he said. “And I’m older than that in a lot of ways.”

      She felt an odd pang of regret. He was handsome and very attractive. Her whole young body throbbed just being near him. It was a new and unexpected reaction. Delia had never felt those wild stirrings her friends talked about. She’d been a remarkably late bloomer.

      “No comment?” he queried, lifting his eyes.

      “You never told me your name,” she countered.

      “Carrera,” he said, watching her face. “Marcus Carrera.” He noted her lack of recognition. “You haven’t heard of me, have you?”

      She hadn’t, which he seemed to find amusing.

      “Are you famous?” she ventured.

      “Infamous,” he replied. He finished the neat stitches, nipped the thread with strong white teeth and handed the dress back to her.

      She took it from him, feeling suddenly cold. The minute she put the dress back on, their unexpected tête-à-tête was over. She’d probably never see him again.

      “There’s something about ships that pass in the night…” she murmured absently.

      His jaw tautened as he looked at her, his reading glasses tossed lightly onto the top of the desk. He summed her up with his dark eyes, seeing innocence and attraction mingled with fear and nerves.

      His eyes narrowed. He’d rarely been drawn to a woman so quickly, especially one like this, who was clearly from another world. Her connections were going to make her very valuable to him, but he didn’t want to feel any sparks. He couldn’t afford them right now.

      “What’s your name?” he asked quietly.

      “Delia Mason,” she replied.

      “You’re Southern,” he guessed.

      She smiled. “I’m from Texas, a little town called Jacobsville, between San Antonio and Victoria.”

      “Lived there all your life?” he probed.

      She gave him a wicked grin. “Not yet.”

      He chuckled.

      “Where are you from, originally?” she asked, clutching her dress to the front of his robe. “Not the Bahamas?”

      He shook his head. “Chicago,” he replied.

      She sighed. “I’ve never been there. Actually, this is the first time I’ve ever been out of Texas.”

      He found that fascinating. “I’ve been everywhere.”

      She smiled. “It’s a big world.”

      “Very.” He studied her oval face with its big green eyes and soft, creamy complexion. Her mouth was full and sweet-looking. His eyes narrowed on it and he felt a sudden, unexpected surge of hunger.

      She moved uncomfortably. “I guess I’d better get dressed.” She hesitated. “Do the cabs run this late?” she added.

      “They run all night, but you won’t need one,” he said as he closed up his sewing kit and put it away. He thought of driving her back himself. But it was unwise to start things he couldn’t finish. This little violet would never fit into his thorny life. She couldn’t cope, even if she’d been older and more sophisticated. The thought irritated him and his voice was harsher than he meant it to be when he added, “I’ll have Smith run you back to your hotel.”

      The thought of a journey in company with the mysterious and dangerous Mr. Smith made her uncomfortable, but she wasn’t going to argue. She was grateful to have a ride. It was a long walk over the bridge to Nassau.

      “Thanks,” she mumbled with suppressed disappointment, and went into the bathroom to put her dress back on.

      She hung the robe up neatly and then checked her face in the mirror. Her breath sucked in as she saw the terrible bruise coming out on her cheek. She put a lot of face powder over it, but it didn’t do a lot to disguise the fact that she’d been slapped.

      She did the best she could and went back out into the security office. He was standing out on the balcony with his hand in his pockets, looking out to sea. He was a sophisticated man. He had a powerful figure, and she wasn’t surprised that he was in security work. He was СКАЧАТЬ