The Right Touch. Eileen Nauman

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СКАЧАТЬ and shred his next victim. He looked like an eagle. His mouth, although well shaped, was thinned by obvious irritation. But Dev might have been more on guard if the corners of his mouth hadn’t been turned softly upward. At some point, he must have laughed a great deal. He wasn’t laughing now. No, if looks could kill, she’d be dead and so would poor Mrs. Weintraub, who was flustered by the faux pas.

      Dev was far more concerned about Mrs. Weintraub’s embarrassment. She appeared to be going into cardiac arrest as she tore through the sheaf of papers in her trembling fingers. Dev reached out and touched her elegantly clad silk shoulder. “It’s quite all right, Mrs. Weintraub.”

      “Well, I just know you are a fencer…I feel terrible.”

      Dev risked a glance up at the marine corps officer, who was standing there as if bored to death. What was the matter with the arrogant idiot? He was just making Mrs. Weintraub that much more uncomfortable. Her blue eyes darkened when they met his gray ones. “Egotistical” flashed to mind. And then “cold.” Cold and cruelly insensitive. She disliked him intensely in those seconds. Well, she didn’t want to be here, either, but she wasn’t acting like an ass, at least.

      Dev’s mouth pursed. “Look, Mrs. Weintraub, it’s all right. I honestly didn’t want to go to the party. I’m really tired with jet lag and—”

      “Oh, my dear! I can’t possibly let you go back to your room just because of a silly typing omission!”

      Sure you can, Dev thought, trying to look properly chastised that she had even suggested such an alternative. Then another plan formed in her mind, and she looked up, giving the stonelike officer one of her warmest and most brilliant smiles.

      “Well, I’m sure the captain, uh—”

      “Major,” he corrected her coolly. “Major Cal Travis.”

      Dev waved her hand. “Of course! Major. Mrs. Weintraub, I’m sure Major Travis wouldn’t mind a bit if we just called it an evening.” Her eyes widened slightly in a pleading gesture as she held his insolent gaze. “Would you, Major?” she asked sweetly. God, she hated herself for such brash, sickeningly sweet, femme fatale methods. This just wasn’t like her. But at this point, Dev was willing to stoop to such a level to get out of having to go anywhere with this impudent officer!

      “Whatever the lady wants,” he drawled with a slight bow.

      I’ll bet, you arrogant—

      “My gracious, we just can’t have that!” Mrs. Weintraub grabbed the officer by the arm and practically dragged him over. “Dev Hunter, I’d like you to meet your escort for the evening, Major Cal Travis.” She moved from between them and pushed them together. The instant Dev’s forearm came in contact with his hard, masculine body, Dev moved away as if burned.

      “Now come, come! Just go up to the twenty-first floor and join the celebration.” Mrs. Weintraub grabbed Cal’s arm and led them toward the bank of elevators.

      Once inside one, Dev immediately went to the opposite corner. Her heart was pounding like a snared rabbit’s, yet she met his hard eyes. “I don’t like this any more than you do.”

      “Good, at least you aren’t the type to play games,” he said, looking her over as if she were a piece of furniture to be appraised. Cal saw a red stain come to her cheeks and suddenly felt contrite.

      Come on, Travis, who do you think you’re talking to? She’s probably twenty-four or -five, never been out of the States before and is completely out of her element, and you’re going to put her in your sights and shoot her down.

      He moved his mouth. “Sorry,” he muttered.

      Dev’s wrist began to ache, and she focused on that rather than this enigmatic officer who looked just as ill at ease as she felt. Lightly touching her right wrist, she shrugged. “I didn’t want to come to this party, either.”

      “Well, at least we agree on one thing.”

      She felt his hand settle on her elbow, and he guided her out of the elevator. Her head snapped up, her eyes wide with confusion as she stared up at him. Prickles of pleasure radiated from his touch. For all the anger she saw and felt emanating from him, his hand was firm without being cruel. He seemed to monitor her stride in her cocktail dress and heels so that she wouldn’t have to run to keep up with his longer-legged walk.

      “Drink?”

      Dev winced inwardly. His voice was like a whip. If she had to stand here for an hour and put in an appearance for the team’s sake, it was going to be agony. “Make it a double scotch, will you?”

      He tilted his head, a thaw in his gray eyes and, if she wasn’t imagining it, a slight hint of a smile pulling at one corner of his compressed lips. “We agree on two things. Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

      Dev raised her chin, her blue eyes flaring. “Yes, sir. Or should I salute you, too?”

      Some indecipherable emotion flicked across his face. “Just stand at parade ease and that will do, Ms Hunter.”

      Arrogant bastard! She stood there, seething. Well, to hell with him! Dev turned smartly on her white heels, perusing the huge room that was softly lit by the chandeliers overhead. The music was soothing, but she barely heard it as she prowled the perimeter of the two hundred or so guests. The women were in their finest and most colorful plumage, while the men wore a mixture of business suits or uniforms from the various services. An impressive party, Dev decided. Aha—a balcony. Just what she wanted. Perhaps if she went out there and hid, Major Travis with his vinegar personality might not find her and would go home—where he belonged. And then she could go to her room and sleep!

      The scintillating lights of Victoria Harbor were mesmerizing as Dev lounged against the wrought-iron balustrade. The sparkling reds, greens and blues from the island of Hong Kong itself danced off the rippling ebony surface so that she quickly became absorbed in the beauty of the night. A heavy cape of stars covered the shoulders of the night above her, and a soft, tangy salt breeze caressed Dev’s face. With a groan, she wriggled out of the heels, her feet already aching. She was used to wearing jogging shoes on the job and fencing shoes on the copper strip when going bouts with fellow fencers. Heels were something to be put in the darkest corner of her apartment closet and forgotten. Why women wore these tortuous, stilted monstrosities was beyond Dev. Then a silly grin split her squarish face. If she believed that, what was she doing wearing them tonight? The inconsistency of human behavior was alive and well, she decided.

      After that, so engrossed did she become in the sight of Hong Kong in the distance and a junk sailing by that Dev forgot all about the party and her sourpuss escort.

      Cal walked quietly across the huge stone patio that was embraced by carefully spaced, potted tropical plants towering above them. He missed little as he approached Dev: she had kicked her heels off, revealing shapely feet. The red-and-white cocktail dress outlined the fact that Dev Hunter was indeed tall and in good physical shape. Cal’s gaze roved appreciatively from her bare shoulders and arms down her long, delicately curved back to her slender hips. He was irritated with himself for having drowned in her pleading blue eyes earlier when Dev had tried to gracefully dodge him and the party altogether. Her hair was an unruly mass of auburn color shot with gold and had been piled into a careless topknot that obviously had refused to stay centered for very long.

      Cal halted a few feet behind her, watching as she rested her elbows on the balustrade, chin cupped in her hands, a dreamy look on her face. She wasn’t СКАЧАТЬ