Название: The Right Touch
Автор: Eileen Nauman
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
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Cal turned his glass around in his hands, studying it. “I don’t know. Are they?”
She shrugged, enjoying his teasing, noticing that the hardness in his face was no longer quite so evident. “I’ve never met one. Until now.”
Cal snorted softly and bowed his head for a moment. “I’m a lousy example, believe me,” he muttered.
Her heart gave a funny lurch as Dev saw his face lose its coldness for just a second. What she saw in its place stunned her. Something tragic had happened to Cal. Now she really felt guilty about being nasty to him. “I don’t think so,” she countered, her voice husky with feeling. “I just think you’re terribly alone.”
Cal tipped his head, studying Dev intently. He shook his head. “You look like a child, you know that? Those big blue eyes, soft mouth and that vulnerable aura about you.”
Heat rushed to her face; Dev didn’t know quite what to do. “Nah, I just behave like a spoiled brat when I get my toes stepped on, that’s all.”
He gave her a perceptive look, one that said, You don’t fool me. “By the way, how is your toe? I suppose it’s the one you have to fence on?”
“It’s feeling no pain right now, believe me. After a double?” She laughed softly, leaning languidly against the railing, totally at ease.
Cal turned, hip resting on the wrought iron, hungrily absorbing Dev into his memory. “No pain…. You know,” he said with a slight slur, “you’re right on target, Ms Hunter. No pain.” He turned and threw his head back and moved his shoulders as if freeing himself from some imaginary load. “No pain.”
“You can call me Dev if you want to,” she said, watching him.
He set down the tumbler. “Okay, Dev. How about another?”
“No, thank you.”
“Sure?” he asked, halting a few feet from her.
“Positive.”
His eyes darkened and held hers captive. “Will you be here when I get back, or are you going to run away from me again?”
Dev trembled, the low vibration of his voice moving through her as if he had reached out and caressed her. She took a ragged breath. “No, I’ll be here.”
“Your word as a fencer? You’re supposed to be chivalrous and all that.”
Her smile was winsome, her laughter silvery. “I’ll be here, Major.”
“Cal. You can call me Cal.”
“Okay, Cal. I’ll be here when you get back,” she promised softly.
He plunged through the crowd, head held high, shoulders pressed back like the wings of a proud eagle. Dev saw the women look up as he passed. A silly smile lurked on her lips. Careful, Dev, this is not a man you mess around with and come away from unhurt. She shivered with the memory of Cal’s intense, heated look. Her experience warned her that he played for keeps. No. He was a taker. What was his, was his. Excitement spread through Dev as she allowed herself to wonder what it would be like to be his. To belong to him. Because Major Cal Travis was an owner. Which had its darker side—one who took, who owned, could be selfish. A hunter. A stalker. Cal was dangerous, her instincts finally shouted. Dev returned her attention to the picturesque view of Hong Kong and mulled over the sudden change in their adversarial relationship.
Cal joined her as noiselessly as he had left her, which put Dev a little in awe of him. She met his unreadable gaze as he stood next to her, his elbow lightly resting near her own. The heat of his body, the intoxicating scent of him encircled her, and she felt giddy. Giddy and out of control, as if someone had waved a magic wand and the two of them were the only people in the world at that moment.
“You stayed,” he said, sipping the scotch.
“I told you I would. Fencer’s word,” she teased.
He cocked his head, studying her face for a long moment. “I don’t know anything about fencing.”
“I don’t know anything about marine jet pilots, either.”
His mouth lifted. “We’re usually called jet jockeys. Or fighter jocks.”
“Is that anything like Big Man On Campus?”
He shrugged nonchalantly. “Ask any marine who’s the best military man in the world, and he’ll tell you it’s a marine.”
Dev couldn’t help but smile. “And along with that goes adjectives such as ‘arrogant,’ ‘self-centered’ and ‘egotistical’?”
“Touché, Dev Hunter.” Cal lifted his tumbler in salute to her and took another drink. “But be careful that you don’t confuse my confidence with egotism. There’s a difference.”
“Touché, Cal Travis. I believe the score is now two to one for you.”
He nodded. “In fencing, how many points do you score to a game?”
She laughed. “They’re called bouts, and whoever scores five points first is the winner of that match.”
Cal was feeling pleasantly drunk. “Anybody ever tell you that you’re a feisty redhead?”
Dev rested her chin on her hands, smiling distantly. “Well, at our age, Cal, I’m sure we’ve both been called a few things. Don’t you think?”
He scowled. “Age? God, you make it sound like we’re both over the hill.”
“Well, in two more years, I’ll be thirty,” she said lightly.
“You’re not twenty-five?”
“No. But thank you for the compliment, anyway. Want me to guess your age?”
He shook his head. “If I don’t look eighty, I should,” Cal admitted, his face becoming tense once again. He stared off into the night. “Maybe a hundred. Hell, I don’t know.”
Dev licked her lower lip. Cal Travis was complex and changeable. Already, she had seen his cold, ruthless side, a bit of his teasing demeanor, and now that desolate expression was on his face again. Taking a deep breath, she decided to take a chance. “Cal?”
“Hmm?”
“Why are you so sad? I was watching you a while ago, and you seemed so unhappy.”
He grimaced. “God, don’t tell me I’m that transparent.”
“No. I don’t think you are. Maybe just to me. Fencers are trained to watch even the most minute of movements, facial expressions, that sort of thing.”
Cal hesitated. “Listen, my redheaded witch, you don’t want to open up Pandora’s box,” he warned.
“Why not?”
“Because it would be dangerous.”
“In СКАЧАТЬ