Best Of Nora Roberts Books 1-6. Nora Roberts

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      “There’s the house up ahead.” She raced around an ess curve. “Fabulous when it’s all lit up this way.”

      The house was white and stately, the type you expected to see high above the riverbank. It glowed with elegance from dozens of windows. Without slackening pace, Kirby sped up the circular drive. With a squeal of brakes, and a muttered curse from Adam, she stopped the Porsche at the front entrance.

      Reaching over, Adam pulled the keys from the ignition and pocketed them. “I’m driving back.”

      “How thoughtful.” Offering her hand to the valet, Kirby stepped out. “Now I won’t have to limit myself to one drink. Champagne,” she decided, moving up the steps beside him. “It seems like a night for it.”

      The moment the door opened, Kirby was enveloped by a flurry of dazzling, trailing silks. “Harriet.” Kirby squeezed the statuesque woman with flaming red hair. “It’s wonderful to see you, but I think I’m being gnawed by the denture work of your crocodile.”

      “Sorry, darling.” Harriet held her necklace and drew back to press a kiss to each of Kirby’s cheeks. She was an impressive woman, full-bodied in the style Rubens had immortalized. Her face was wide and smooth, dominated by deep green eyes that glittered with silver on the lids. Harriet didn’t believe in subtlety. “And this must be your house-guest,” she continued with a quick sizing up of Adam.

      “Harriet Merrick, Adam Haines.” Kirby grinned and pinched Harriet’s cheek. “And behave yourself, or Papa’ll have him choosing weapons.”

      “Wonderful idea.” With one arm still linked with Kirby’s, Harriet twined her other through Adam’s. “I’m sure you have a fascinating life story to tell me, Adam.”

      “I’ll make one up.”

      “Perfect.” She liked the look of him. “We’ve a crowd already, though they’re mostly Melanie’s stuffy friends.”

      “Harriet, you’ve got to be more tolerant.”

      “No, I don’t.” She tossed back her outrageous hair. “I’ve been excruciatingly polite. Now that you’re here, I don’t have to be.”

      “Kirby.” Melanie swept into the hall in an ice-blue sheath. “What a picture you make. Take her cloak, Ellen, though it’s a pity to spoil that effect.” Smiling, she held out a hand to Adam as the maid slipped Kirby’s cloak off her shoulders. “I’m so glad you came. We’ve some mutual acquaintances here, it seems. The Birminghams and Michael Towers from New York. You remember Michael, Kirby?”

      “The adman who clicks his teeth?”

      Harriet let out a roar of laughter while Adam struggled to control his. With a sigh, Melanie led them toward the party. “Try to behave, will you?” But Adam wasn’t certain whether she spoke to Kirby or her mother.

      This was the world he was used to—elegant people in elegant clothes having rational conversations. He’d been raised in the world of restrained wealth where champagne fizzed quietly and dignity was as essential as the proper alma mater. He understood it, he fit in.

      After fifteen minutes, he was separated from Kirby and bored to death.

      “I’ve decided to take a trek through the Australian bush,” Harriet told Kirby. She fingered her necklace of crocodile teeth. “I’d love you to come with me. We’d have such fun brewing a billy cup over the fire.”

      “Camping?” Kirby asked, mulling it over. Maybe what she needed was a change of scene, after her father settled down.

      “Give it some thought,” Harriet suggested. “I’m not planning on leaving for another six weeks. Ah, Adam.” Reaching out, she grabbed his arm. “Did Agnes Birmingham drive you to drink? No, don’t answer. It’s written all over your face, but you’re much too polite.”

      He allowed himself to be drawn between her and Kirby, where he wanted to be. “Let’s just say I was looking for more stimulating conversation. I’ve found it.”

      “Charming.” She decided she liked him, but would reserve judgment a bit longer as to whether he’d suit her Kirby. “I admire your work, Adam. I’d like to put the first bid in on your next painting.”

      He took glasses from a passing waiter. “I’m doing a portrait of Kirby.”

      “She’s posing for you?” Harriet nearly choked on her champagne. “Did you chain her?”

      “Not yet.” He gave Kirby a lazy glance. “It’s still a possibility.”

      “You have to let me display it when it’s finished.” She might’ve been a woman who ran on emotion on many levels, but the bottom line was art, and the business of it. “I can promise to cause a nasty scene if you refuse.”

      “No one does it better,” Kirby toasted her.

      “You’ll have to see the portrait of Kirby that Philip painted for me. She wouldn’t sit for it, but it’s brilliant.” She toyed with the stem of her glass. “He painted it when she returned from Paris—three years ago, I suppose.”

      “I’d like to see it. I’d planned on coming by the gallery.”

      “Oh, it’s here, in the library.”

      “Why don’t you two just toddle along then?” Kirby suggested. “You’ve been talking around me, you might as well desert me physically, as well.”

      “Don’t be snotty,” Harriet told her. “You can come, too. And I… Well, well,” she murmured in a voice suddenly lacking in warmth. “Some people have no sense of propriety.”

      Kirby turned her head, just slightly, and watched Stuart walk into the room. Her fingers tightened on the glass, but she shrugged. Before the movement was complete, Melanie was at her side.

      “I’m sorry, Kirby. I’d hoped he wouldn’t come after all.”

      In a slow, somehow insolent gesture, Kirby pushed her hair behind her back. “If it had mattered, I wouldn’t have come.”

      “I don’t want you to be embarrassed,” Melanie began, only to be cut off by a quick and very genuine laugh.

      “When have you ever known me to be embarrassed?”

      “Well, I’ll greet him, or it’ll make matters worse.” Still, Melanie hesitated, obviously torn between loyalty and manners.

      “I’ll fire him, of course,” Harriet mused when her daughter went to do her duty. “But I want to be subtle about it.”

      “Fire him if you like, Harriet, but not on my account.” Kirby drained her champagne.

      “It appears we’re in for a show, Adam.” Harriet tapped a coral fingertip against her glass. “Much to Melanie’s distress, Stuart’s coming over.”

      Without saying a word, Kirby took Adam’s cigarette.

      “Harriet, you look marvelous.” The СКАЧАТЬ