A Memorable Man. Joan Hohl

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СКАЧАТЬ inwardly shaken by his response, mentally and physically. He had heard about dynamite smiles, had even witnessed a few, but this woman’s smile went way beyond dynamite; megaton came closer to the mark.

      “Still hungry?” he asked politely, quashing a different hunger expanding inside.

      “Starved.” Though her tone was somber, her eyes, those amazingly expressive green eyes, conveyed her understanding of and amusement at his unstated appetite.

      Batten down the hatches, Mabel, there’s a rocka-butzer storm gathering on the horizon.

      The sudden recollection of one of Adam’s late father’s favorite expressions in times of trouble had a settling effect on his equilibrium, easing the strain from his voice, allowing him to return her perceptive smile.

      “In that case, I suppose I’d better feed you.” Taking her by the hand, Adam steered her to the restaurant.

      “My hero,” Sunny murmured, batting her eyelashes—her long, dark eyelashes—at him. Then, as she moved around the bust, she drew her fingers along the chiseled jawline of Patrick Henry. “It’s a good likeness,” she said, slanting a teasing look at him. “The fiery radical would be pleased.”

      Adam laughed at her whimsy, but composed himself enough to give his name to the pleasantfaced hostess standing in the restaurant entrance, checking names against the leather-bound reservation list in her hands.

      “Ah, yes, good evening, Mr. Grainger.” She offered a smile and an ushering movement of her hand. “Right this way. Your table is ready.”

      “Have you eaten here before?” Sunny asked, after they were seated and proffered menus, when the hostess had departed.

      Adam shook his head. “No. I didn’t get in until early this afternoon. I had lunch on the plane.” He grinned. “Unlike some, I find nothing wrong with the in-flight food. In truth, I thoroughly enjoy it.”

      “So do I.” She grinned back at him. “Does that make us peasants or merely plebeian?”

      “Or, just maybe, it makes us too honest to affect a pseudosophistication,” he suggested.

      “Yes,” she agreed, giving him the chills with the soft look she swept over him. “You always were...honest, I mean, almost to a fault.”

      Not again, Adam thought, smothering a groan. Not yet another not-too-veiled reference to them having met, known each other before.

      Still, he couldn’t deny the spark of interest her remark generated.

      Studying her, and more than a little impressed by her clear-eyed and direct regard in return, Adam decided that perhaps it was time he probed the depths of her assumed previous knowledge of him, his personality.

      “We’ve only just met,” he said. “How could you possibly know that I’ve always been honest.”

      Her eyes darkened, as if with an inner amused knowing. A gently mocking smile kissed her lips, making his mouth ache with desire to do likewise.

      “I’ve known almost forever.”

      “Indeed?” The skeptical arch of one eyebrow underscored his tone of voice.

      “Yes.” Though quiet, her tone was absolute.

      “But, how?” he persisted. “How could...”

      Adam broke off with the arrival of a waiter at the table. He concealed his impatience until they had given their drink and dinner orders and the man had left them.

      “How?” he repeated the moment they were alone again. “How could you know anything about me?”

      “Oh, Andrew...”

      “Adam,” he interjected, his voice taut and impatient. “My name is Adam.”

      “Of course.” She winced. “I’m sorry.” The expression in her eyes revealed the depth of her contrition. “I...I’m having some difficulty keeping the two separated.”

      Adam was struck by a blast of feeling, too close to jealously to be acceptable. Dammit, he thought, he barely knew the woman. How could he be jealous?

      “We are so alike, this Andrew and I?” he asked, in a harsh tone made almost cruel by his inner struggle of denial.

      “Yes.” A gentle smile curved her lips. “But please try to understand, you are alike because you are one, the same being, the same soul.”

      Oh, hell. A New Age basket case.

      Adam wasn’t into New Age. He was too busy staying on the cutting edge of his current age.

      Disappointment bruised his mind. Sunny had caught Adam’s interest from his first sight of her. She was not only lovely but fascinating, exciting, different. Too different.

      “You’re having trouble dealing with this.” Her voice was soft, her tone sympathetic.

      Staring at her, at the concerned expression dimming the glow in her fantastic eyes, Adam was only vaguely aware of the waiter silently placing their drinks in front of them, then moving away again.

      “Have a sip of your wine. It might help a little,” she suggested.

      Distracted, Adam picked up the stemmed goblet, took a generous swallow of the dark red wine, then frowned. Why had he ordered it? Other than for toasting purposes on holidays, birthday gatherings, weddings and such, he didn’t drink wine, preferring light beer, or when in need of fortification and something stronger, bourbon or scotch, neat.

      He transferred his frown to Sunny. “Did I order this—what is it, anyway? Burgundy?” It was a pure guess.

      “Yes.” The glow flared to life again in her eyes. “And yes, you did order it.”

      “Odd.”

      “Not to me,” she said, her smile nostalgic. “It was always your wine of preference...even with a fish or fowl course.”

      Adam felt his facial muscles tighten and his stomach clench. “Don’t start that always business again. I’m not buying into it.”

      “You will...eventually.” Once more, her smile and the glow in her eyes faded. “At least, I pray you will.”

      This was getting heavy, Adam told himself. And he was getting edgy.

      “Look, Sunny,” he began, determined to stay calm and reasonable. “I’m not sure...” he broke off as the waiter put in another appearance at the table, this time to deliver their soup course.

      After smiling and thanking the waiter, Sunny glanced down at the creamy potato-leek soup the man had set before her, then back up at Adam.

      “Could we postpone further discussion until after we’ve eaten?” she asked. “I truly am very hungry.”

      It wasn’t easy, but drawing a deep breath, Adam managed to temper his impatience. Besides, he was hungry, too, and the soup did look inviting.

      “Okay.” СКАЧАТЬ