A Kiss To Remember. Miranda Lee

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ had said in his letters that his friend was very good-looking. But Bud’s idea of good-looking and Angie’s idea of good-looking were often poles apart. Their views on things differed as vastly as did their own looks.

      Bud took after their mother, who was small and dark, with black wavy hair, chocolate-brown eyes and an inclination to put on weight easily. Angie, however, was a female version of their father—tall and athletically slim, with auburn hair and widely spaced green eyes.

      Their natures were different as well. Bud was easily bored, and craved excitement and companionship all the time. Angie was far more placid and private. She was quite happy with her own company, liking nothing better than to go riding by herself, or to curl up all alone on her bed to write poetry or read a book. She liked to think rather than talk. Bud could talk underwater, like their mother.

      A cloud of dust in the distance had Angie jumping to her feet, her hand hooding her eyes from the sunlight as she peered down the hill. A car was coming along the valley road, going as fast as her heart was suddenly beating.

      It was Bud and his friend. She was sure of it.

      Somewhere at the back of her mind Angie knew she was acting totally out of character, getting excited over a member of the opposite sex. Especially one she hadn’t met yet.

      She was not boy-mad, as were most other girls in her class. Her classmates actually thought her shy.

      She let them think it.

      Angie knew that she wasn’t really shy. Just reserved. She liked her personal space and hated being harassed in any way. Unwanted male attention sometimes embarrassed and always annoyed her. Frankly, she found most boys at school exceedingly adolescent, noisy and irritating. She’d actually been relieved by her father’s edict a couple of years back that she could not have a boyfriend till she was sixteen. It was the perfect excuse for her to turn down the invitations she received from her overeager admirers.

      And there were many. For Angie was a very attractive girl. In the past few months some people had started using the word ‘beautiful’.

      Yet she never made any attempt to enhance her looks or look older, as some girls might have. She never used make-up, always wore her long straight hair up in a simple ponytail, and was happiest wearing jeans or shorts, plus one of her father’s shirts.

      Today was no different. Angie had too much common sense to try to attract someone like Bud’s friend from Sydney. He was twenty-two, after all—one year older than Bud—and wouldn’t look twice at a fifteen-year-old girl. On top of that he was very, very rich—the only son and heir of one of Sydney’s wealthiest families.

      Perhaps it was this last factor that Angie found so fascinating. She’d never met any really rich people before, and the things Bud had told her about Lance’s home and lifestyle sounded very glamorous. Totally different from the simple country life the Browns led.

      Angie had been amazed to hear that after finishing high school Lance had travelled the world for a whole year before starting uni. He and Bud had not become friends till this last year, and no doubt now that their degrees were finished their paths would soon diverge. Next year Bud would have to go out into the real world and find himself a job, whereas Lance would be automatically given a cushy executive position in one of the family’s companies.

      Sterling Industries had many fingers in many pies—from food and cleaning products to furniture, from plastics to various mining interests. Apparently, Lance had offered to find Bud a job, but Bud had refused, and Angie was proud of him for that. Not that she was worried about her brother going out on his own in search of a career. Bud had enough drive and energy to succeed in whatever he put his mind to.

      The wire door creaked behind her, and Angie turned to see her mother coming out, wiping floury hands on the apron which was doing its best to circumnavigate her rotund middle. Though not yet forty, Nora Brown had long surrendered to her genes, plus her love of food.

      Not that she worried about her weight. Nothing ever worried Nora Brown. She was easygoing, easy to please and easy to love. If she had a fault it was her tendency to be blunt with others at times. She was not rude, just a little tactless on occasion. Still, everyone loved her—especially her husband, Morris.

      A very handsome man, Morris Brown could have had his pick of any number of local girls. He’d chosen Nora, who was short, plump, dark, and very ordinary-looking.

      It was a tribute to Nora’s totally natural self-esteem that she had never found this in any way amazing. She accepted Morris’s love as her due, and loved him back with all the love in her ample bosom. Twenty-two years later, they still adored each other.

      ‘Did I hear a car coming?’ Nora asked hopefully.

      ‘Flying, more like it,’ Angie said.

      Her mother stepped forward, dark eyes twinkling, a wide smile on her homely face. ‘I’ll bet that’s my Buddy driving. Dear me, but he’s a naughty boy when he gets behind the wheel of a car. I hope his father’s still down on the river flats and can’t see this.’

      The car came into view, sending some gravel flying as it lurched around a corner on its way up the hill to the house. Red and gleaming, it had silver wheels and the top down.

      The sounds of its manic approach sent the dogs shooting out from underneath the weatherboard house, barking in force. A motley lot, there was a brown kelpie named Betsie, a blue cattle-dog cross named Fang and a black Labrador who’d been a guide dog reject, suitably called Max, after the hero in Get Smart.

      ‘Betsie! Fang! Max!’ Nora called out. ‘Stop that racket and get yourselves back under the house before you get run over.’

      All three dived for cover just as the red Mercedes Sports came to a screeching halt at the bottom of the front steps. It wasn’t her brother’s Mercedes, Angie knew, since he didn’t own a car, but it was Bud behind the wheel all right; she saw that straight away. He was grinning his head off as he glanced down at his watch.

      ‘Made it before noon by a whole thirty seconds!’ he exclaimed excitedly, then gave his passenger a smug look. ‘You owe me twenty dollars.’

      The sound of a rich laugh sent Angie’s eyes swinging over to her brother’s friend, and her heart just stopped. As she stared his head turned slowly towards them, his hand lifting lazily to comb back his thick blond hair. He tipped up his perfectly sculptured face and set dancing blue eyes upon them, his laughing mouth showing dazzling white teeth and a dimple in his right cheek.

      ‘Hi,’ he said. ‘I’m Lance.’

      ‘Hi there, Mum,’ Bud called out. ‘Hope we didn’t scare the chooks too much.’

      ‘Yes, sorry about the ruckus, Mrs Brown,’ Bud’s friend apologised, still smiling that overwhelmingly engaging smile of his. ‘Your son here is insane when it comes to winning a bet.’

      ‘That’s all right, young man,’ Nora returned. ‘I already know my Buddy’s weaknesses, as well as his strengths. One seems to be picking very nice friends.’

      Bud groaned. ‘For pity’s sake, Mum, don’t flatter him. He’s already got a head as big as the Sydney Harbour Bridge.’

      ‘I’ll flatter whomever I like in my own house, you cheeky pup,’ Nora pretended to reproach him. ‘Now, get yourself out of that fancy car, come up here and give your СКАЧАТЬ