The Virgin And The Vagabond. Elizabeth Bevarly
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Название: The Virgin And The Vagabond
Автор: Elizabeth Bevarly
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
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Kirby peeked through the curtains of her living room window, and observed with what she assured herself was only idle interest the departure of James Nash, icon of popular American culture.
What a jerk, she thought. Acting as if he need only show up at her front door to have her fall to her knees and beg him to make love to her. Obviously he was unaware of her high standards where men were concerned. Clearly he had no idea that she was only interested in men who were decent and warm and conscientious, not to mention local. What would she possibly want with the likes of James Nash?
Other than hours of unbridled physical satisfaction, of course. She squeezed her eyes shut tight to banish the uncharacteristic idea that leapt to life in her brain. Unfortunately, closing her eyes only brought the graphic images into stark focus.
She really had gone far too long without experiencing the sexual satisfaction any normal human being required, she thought with a sigh that sounded disturbingly wistful. All her life she had saved herself for the perfect union, and now that perfect union seemed well beyond her reach. No man in Endicott was interested. The way things looked now, she was going to end her days as a dried-up old spinster, a local legend for every young girl to whisper about, and for every young boy to fall back on in efforts of seduction.
Better be careful they’d tell their would-be conquests. Or you might end up like Old Lady Connaught, who at ninety years of age has never even come close to enjoying the Big O.
Kirby sighed wistfully again, not even trying to deny the fact that she was just that—wistful. If she was so worried about winding up a shriveled old virgin, and if she knew she would never find the perfect match, then why couldn’t she be satisfied with an imperfect one? she asked herself, not for the first time. Why hadn’t she just jumped at James Nash’s more-than-obvious offer?
Immediately she knew the answer to that question. Because deep down, she still harbored some small hope that Bob would bring her a man who would love her forever after. And she wanted it to be special when that man appeared James Nash, she was certain, wasn’t that man.
Even if he’d been telling the truth about making the cover of Tattle Tales magazine—which, of course, she sincerely doubted—he was far too caught up in himself to ever give a woman any kind of attention. And if he was a celebrity—again, something Kirby suspected was a complete fabrication—then that was all the more reason for her to avoid him. Because there was no way any celebrities would ever settle down and start a family in Endicott.
The sound of his car rumbling to life outside brought her attention to the window again, and something inside her trembled in time with the purr of the Rolls’s engine. Through the sheer curtains, she watched as the silvery car pulled slowly away from the curb. And for some reason, the only thought that tumbled through her head was that her very last chance was slipping right out of her grasp.
She shoved the odd idea away and headed for her shower, determined not to give another thought to James Nash. It wasn’t like she didn’t have enough to keep her mind occupied for the next few weeks, anyway. She was, after all, serving on the committee of the Welcome Back, Bob Comet Festival, something that would keep her unusually busy for the month of September. She had a million things to organize, a million events to oversee, a million places to go, a million people to meet. She had a comet to welcome back. Whether Bob was bringing her a wish come true or not.
Two
A few hours later, she was feeling fresh and clean, dressed in a loose, white cotton sheath with three-quarter sleeves, a wide, scooped neck and sailor-type collar. But better than that, she thought as she strode into the Endicott Free Public Library to meet with the other festival committee members, she had gone a whole half hour without a single vision of James Nash erupting in her brain.
Upon entering the cavernous marble structure, however, her gaze was drawn to the periodicals section to the left of the check-out desk, and her thirty-minute record was broken. Darn. All she could think about then was that with a brief, effortless investigation, she could easily verify James’s claim to worldwide notoriety and nationwide desirability.
Glancing down at her watch, Kirby found, not much to her surprise, that she was fifteen minutes early for the meeting. She was always early for functions. Simply because, by virtue of her less-than-thriving business and completely inactive social life, she was pretty much overcome by leisure time.
Without thinking about her motives, she strode casually toward the periodicals, her white flats scuffing softly along the marble floor. She scanned the shelves until she located the one where Tattle Tales magazine just so happened to be housed, then thumbed nonchalantly through the last few months’ worth of issues, until she located one whose cover carried a very familiar face.
Good heavens, he’d actually been telling the truth. His name really was James Nash, and he really had been dubbed the Most Desirable Man in America.
Her brain lurched into overdrive, but Kirby somehow managed to steer herself slowly to a nearby chair and park herself in it. Then she gazed dumbfounded at the magazine’s cover, a full-face photograph of the man who had stood on the other side of her front door just a few hours ago.
Naughty Nash! the headlines beside his name screeched in big red letters. Then, in smaller type, was the added sentiment But Oh...So Nice!
Chiding herself for being genuinely curious about the man, Kirby flipped through the magazine until she located the story about him. Another photograph of his beautiful face assaulted her senses, and that odd sparkle of heat fired to life in her belly again.
“Playboy, paladin, parasite, pariah,” the article began. “They’re all words that have been awarded to this year’s Most Desirable Man in America. Whatever. Regardless of his rough reputation, one thing nobody can deny about James Nash is this: he’s plain perfection.”
Well, my goodness, it sounds like someone’s been nipping at the alliteration juice again, Kirby thought uncharitably about the article’s author.
Then, unable to break her gaze from the other words on the page, she continued to read. “He’s wonderfully wealthy. He’s incredibly intelligent. He’s appealingly adventurous. He’s gallantly gorgeous. And, of course, he’s sensuously sexy. What more could a woman desire in a man?”
Gosh. Kirby thought to herself, maybe stalwart stability. Obeisant honor. Absolute affection. That sort of thing. Oh, but, hey, as long as he’s really rich and fabulously famous... She shook her head morosely and read further.
“James Nash has seen all, done all, dated all. He’s been linked romantically with royalty and riches, glamour and glitz, fashion and fame, celebrity and sass. He has a string of relationships in his past, yet not a single one of his former loves has a negative word to say about him.
“‘Every woman should have a man like James at least once in her life,’ stated starlet Ashley Evanston in a recent telephone interview. Debutante Sissy Devane, daughter of billionaire Russell Devane, concurred. ‘No man is more knowledgeable about what it takes to please a woman,’ she said with a little purr of delight this author couldn’t mistake. ‘James is quite thorough in his sexual technique.’”
Oh, please, Kirby thought, slamming the magazine shut Was nothing sacred? Why did people air their sex lives for public consumption as if they were sharing recipes?
She told herself to simply toss СКАЧАТЬ