The Best Is Yet to Come. Diana Palmer

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      “I said, do you want some more bacon, darling?” Jean asked her daughter for the second time, smiling as Ryder grimaced—he hated bacon.

      “What? Oh, no, thanks, I’ve had enough.” Ivy smiled. She sipped her coffee slowly.

      “You look as if you haven’t eaten for weeks,” Ryder observed, studying her over his empty plate. He was leaning back in his chair and he looked impossibly arrogant.

      “She hardly eats anything,” Jean muttered, getting up from the table. “Talk some sense into her, Ryder, will you?” she called as she disappeared.

      Ryder toyed with his cup, glancing up at Ivy with suddenly piercing gray eyes. “I think what you need most is to get away from things that remind you of the past. Just for a little while.”

      She considered that. “That’s a nice thought,” she agreed. “But I have a total of twenty-eight dollars and thirty-five cents in my checking account...”

      “Oh, hell, what do you think I’m suggesting, a tourist special with a sight-seeing jaunt by bus thrown in?” he grumbled. “Listen, honey, I’ve got a cabin in the north Georgia mountains, a villa in Nassau and a summer house in Jacksonville. Take your pick,” he said. “I’ll even fly you there myself.”

      She smiled at him. “You’re a nice man, Ryder,” she said. “But I couldn’t.”

      “Why not? I won’t try to seduce you,” he said, and smiled faintly, although there was no humor in his eyes. Her breath caught and he saw her stir restlessly at the suggestive remark. “I’m just offering you a vacation.”

      “I’m not sure what I want to do, just yet,” she said, faltering.

      “You aren’t afraid of me, are you?” he asked curiously. “Surely not, as long as we’ve know each other.”

      She stared at him then, her eyes faintly hunted. “Yes,” she confessed. “I think I am, a little. Do you mind?”

      His smile was gentle and puzzling. “As a matter of fact, Ivy, I don’t mind in the least,” he said. “I’m flattered.”

      Despite her marriage, she felt frankly naive in some respects. She stared at Ryder curiously and thought that he’d probably had more women than most men she’d been acquainted with. The thought of Ryder in bed with a woman shocked her, angered her. She was grateful that her mother came back in time to spare her any more embarrassing remarks.

      “I wrapped you up some biscuits to take with you,” Jean said, coming out of the pantry with a small sack in hand. She closed the door, picked up the coffeepot and returned to the table.

      “You angel,” Ryder said, grinning. “Come home and cook for me. Ivy can feed herself.”

      “Brute,” Ivy said indignantly.

      “You have Kim Sun,” Jean reminded him as she refilled their cups. “By the way, where is he?”

      “Shivering, I expect, and trying to make cherry crepes on an open hearth.” He sighed. “He’s making me a new dish for dinner.” He looked hunted. “Wouldn’t you like to invite me to dinner, and save me?”

      “Kim Sun is a wonderful cook!” Jean burst out.

      “When it comes to French pastry, maybe,” he muttered. “He’d gone through two pounds of flour when I left the house. I just asked him to fix me some eggs and he muttered something in Korean that I know I’d have fired him for, if I could have translated it.”

      “He makes marvelous pastry,” Ivy offered.

      “I can’t live on desserts. When I hired him, I didn’t know about this one fatal flaw—I didn’t know he could only cook desserts. He was a pastry chef, for God’s sake, he can’t even boil a damned potato!”

      “He spoils you rotten,” Jean reminded him.

      He glared at her. “He also has the world’s sharpest tongue and he treats me like dust under his shoes. I’m going to fire him!”

      “Oh, is that why you sent for his parents and got them a house to live in and...” Ivy began, amused.

      “You can shut up,” he enunciated curtly. He finished his coffee and got up. “I’ve got to go. He may have burned the house down by now.”

      “If you’d called us, we’d have had the gas company turn things on for you,” Jean said.

      “I thought about it, but I was in a big hurry to get home.” He bent to kiss Jean’s cheek. “Thanks for breakfast.”

      “Anytime.”

      His pale eyes shot to Ivy, lingering on her face. “Walk me to the door, Ivy,” he invited.

      She got up, too, sticking her hands into her pockets. “Poor soul, he can’t find his own way out.” She shook her head. “What do you do when you’re in the city, hire a man to point?”

      He glanced at her. “I got the distinct impression earlier that you’d be delighted to show me to the door,” he said softly.

      She flushed. “You...you do come on pretty strong,” she said as they reached the hall, out of Jean’s earshot.

      “And if I didn’t?” he asked carelessly.

      “I like you just the way you are, Ryder,” she said with unconscious warmth, looking up.

      His jaw tautened at that softness in her lovely eyes. He had to drag his eyes away. “I worry about you,” he said tersely. “You can’t live in the past. You’ve got to start living again.”

      “I know. It’s the way he died...” She swallowed, folding her arms around her. “It’s going to take time to cope with it once and for all.”

      “I know that,” he sighed. His eyes went over her in soft sketches. “If what happened out here disturbed you,” he said suddenly, watching her color as he brought back his unorthodox greeting, “it’s been a long dry spell.”

      That she could believe, since he hadn’t noticed her in that way in years. She threw off the pain and managed a dry smile. “Long dry spell, my foot,” she scoffed. “What happened? Did your harem trip over their veils and break something?”

      “I don’t have a harem,” he remarked as they reached the front door. His pale eyes wandered slowly down her exquisite figure. “I’ve gone hungry for a long, long time,” he said in a different tone.

      She flushed, because the statement seemed to have an intimate connotation, but when he looked up, his eyes were dancing.

      “Beast!” she accused, hitting his broad chest playfully.

      “Beauty,” he replied.

      She started to speak and gave up. He was always one step ahead. “I give up,” she muttered. “It’s like arguing with a broom!”

      “I’m going down below Blakely to a farm equipment auction in the morning. Want to ride СКАЧАТЬ