Read Online All About Charming Alice by J. Arlene Culiner - Free Book Online Page A

face was flushed, her eyes dark. He observed her silently for a moment. Then felt his own smile. Not a smile of triumph, but one of complicity. A feeling she returned, with her eyes, her smile.
    She was beautiful when her features softened like that.
    Of course, what he really wanted to do now was pull her up into his arms, drag her up those steps to his big, lonely bed. Rip off the shabby cardigan and shapeless print dress that hid her. Possess every inch of her long, slender body. Watch passion chase away the last bit of reticence. But he knew he couldn’t try doing that. Not yet.
Cool down, Jace. Go slowly if you don’t want to be thrown out on your ear. There’s plenty of time in front of you.
    And just then he caught sight of the photo lying on her desk. And, involuntarily, recoiled.
    It was a picture of a snake — huge — curled. Thoughts of seduction and charm went spinning out of his head. “Ugh,” he muttered.
    Alice’s brows arched, her eyes gleamed. But no longer with desire. “What did you just say?”
    “It’s horrible.”
    “What’s horrible?” She was relentless.
    “That thing. That snake. It’s a rattler, isn’t it?”
    “And a rattler — any snake — is something you hate?”
    Jace moved to the other side of the desk, preferring to distance himself from the photo, from the vague feeling of nausea that had seized his gut. He took a deep breath. “Yes. I do.” He knew it was the wrong answer to give.
    Alice might even like snakes — that wouldn’t surprise him in the least. He’d probably just sealed his doom now, ruined his chances with her. She’d mock him for his weakness, sneer him out of her life.
    “What do you know about reptiles?” she asked calmly.
    “Nothing.” Did he really want to pursue the subject? No, he didn’t. Better to be flippant and get this over with. “In a high-rise condo in Chicago, reptile encounters are exceedingly rare.”
    She didn’t smile, only watched him with an unreadable expression. And gave him the feeling he had to justify his reaction. Just to save face, perhaps. Just so Alice wouldn’t write him off as a complete coward, a frail city boy. But how could he do it without delving into the past, into the most painful episode of his childhood? He couldn’t.
    Jace lowered himself into the armchair on the opposite side of the desk.
    “Okay. I’ll tell you a story.”
    “Fine,” said Alice. “I’m listening.”
    “It’s about something I don’t like remembering or talking about. You see, I have what I suppose you’d call a terrible revulsion or a phobia about snakes. Ever since my cousin Jerry was bitten by a coral snake.”
    “A coral snake?”
    “Jerry died.”
    “I see.” Alice nodded her head slowly. “Where was this?”
    “In Kentucky. My aunt and uncle had a cottage just past Weston. I used to go out there in the summer, visit Jerry.” So many years had passed since then, but Jace still remembered the sandy ground, scrubby pines, intense summer heat and the ubiquitous noise of insects. Even the rich smells — grass, hay, hot earth — had stayed with him, imprinted on his mind.
    “It wasn’t the most exciting place on earth,” he continued. “But Jerry and I made it interesting. We’d go hiking, ramble around, discover things. One day we decided to explore an abandoned farm a few miles down the road — just poke around, see if there were ghosts in the place, or even forgotten treasure. My aunt and uncle wouldn’t have let us go out that far if they’d known, but that couldn’t stop us.”
    “How old were you both?”
    “I was thirteen. Jerry was two years older. I looked up to him as an authority on everything. He was the big brother I never had. And as far as snakes went, Jerry wasn’t afraid of them at all. He liked snakes, kept baby garters as pets.”
    “Did he know anything about coral snakes?” Alice asked.
    “He did. Or he said he did. But when we found the coral snake out on a sandy patch near an old