Read Online Dying to Please by Linda Howard - Free Book Online Page B

totally against all her training. He was such a dear, dutifully eating his fake meat while keeping a sharp eye out for encroaching tofu.
    “What did you tell the bottom-feeder?”
    “I thanked him for his offer, but told him I'm very happy in my present position.”
    His bright eyes twinkled through the lenses of his glasses. “You said he saw you on television?”
    “He must have, unless one of your friends told him my name.”
    “It wasn't one of them, was it?” he asked suspiciously.
    “No, I didn't recognize the name.”
    “Maybe he's a handsome young man who fell in love as soon as he saw you.”
    She barely restrained a snort of disbelief. “People who make job offers to someone without knowing her qualifications or getting references are idiots.”
    “Don't hold back, Sarah; tell me how you really feel.”
    This time she did laugh, because that line had to have come from Blair, too.
    “You should at least interview,” he surprised her by saying.
    She stopped in her tracks and stared at him. “Why?”
    “Because I'm old and won't be here many more years. This might be a good opportunity for you, and he might offer a higher salary.”
    “He did, but that doesn't matter. Unless you fire me, I intend to be here as long as you are.”
    “But more money would help you with your Plan.” She had told him of her intentions to take a sabbatical and travel the world, and he had been enthused by the idea, studying the world atlas and researching different countries for things he thought would interest her.
    “My Plan is in good shape, and people are more important than plans, anyway.”
    “Pardon an old man for getting personal, but you're a lovely young woman. What about marriage, a family?”
    “I hope to have those, too, just not yet. And if I never get married, I still enjoy my life and I'm pleased with my career choice. I'm happy with myself, which isn't a bad thing.”
    “No, it isn't. In fact, it's a rare gift.” His smile was gentle as he studied her. “When you do get married—and notice I say
when,
not
if,
because one day you'll meet a man who's too smart to let you get away—he should get down on his knees every day and thank God for his good luck.”
    She wanted to hug him. Instead she smiled and said, “That's a lovely compliment. Thank you. Do you suppose he'd still feel that way if I fed him tofu?”
    “He'll know you're doing it for his own good.” Despite that gallant reply, he eyed his empty plate again.
    “I promise: no tofu in your French toast.”
    He sighed in relief and began eating his bowl of strawberries, without pressing for a more extensive promise. He was sharp enough that the omission told her he suspected he had already been tofu-contaminated, and was submitting with good grace so long as his beloved French toast was safe.
    After lunch she received the half-expected call from one of her brothers. It was Daniel, calling from Texas. “Hey, sweetie. That was a nice piece of tape; showed you to advantage. None of the guys can believe you're my sister, and they all want me to fix them up with you.”
    “Fat chance,” she said, smiling.
    “Why not? Some of them, I admit, I wouldn't set up with a two-bit hooker, but a couple are okay guys.”
    “Have I mentioned how proud I am of my Susan B. Anthony medallion?” she asked sweetly.
    “You wouldn't.”
    “I believe the subject crops up every time I have a date.”
    “Moving right along here,” he said hastily. “In her note with the tape Mom said you stopped a burglary with a fancy punch.”
    “It wasn't fancy. Straight to the temple.”
    “Ouch. Way to go, short stuff.”
    “Thank you.” From an Army Ranger, that was high praise. “I was expecting either you or Noel to call, maybe both, when you saw the tape.”
    “Noel probably hasn't seen it yet. He isn't in-country.”
    That was enough said. She had grown up in a military family, and she knew what it meant. Noel was Force Recon; he had been in Afghanistan, then