Read Online Friends and Lovers by Diana Palmer - Free Book Online Page A

for a son. Children should be born out of love, not business.”
    “You old romantic, you,” she said with a faint smile.
    He frowned at her. “Haven’t you ever wanted children?”
    She averted her face. That was a question so deeply personal, she almost resented it.
    “I’m too old for that,” she said coolly.
    “At twenty-seven?” he burst out. “My God, women are having babies in their forties!” He scowled.
    “It’s the commitment, isn’t it?” he said speculatively. “You might be able to manage a loose commitment to a man someday, but there’s no walking away from a child.”
    She smiled self-consciously. “You know me pretty well.”
    “Not as well as I’d like to,” he said flatly, his eyes suddenly smoldering. “And not in the sense I want to.”
    “What sense?” she blurted out before she thought.
    But he turned away to get out of the car without answering her.
    “Are you really afraid of sex?” he asked as they walked toward the elevator, not looking at her.
    The question, coming out of the blue, shocked her. She stared up at him, almost stumbling. “Afraid?” She flexed her shoulders under the cobwebby gold shawl she was wearing over her dress. “I don’t know. I only tried it once, you know, and it was a pretty brutal introduction.”
    “He must have hurt you a lot,” he said curtly.
    “He didn’t know I was a virgin until he was past the point of caring,” she said, hating the memory. She drew the shawl closer. “I was madly in love, for the first time in my life. Or thought I was. I’ll never be vulnerable again, thanks to Allen. He did that much for me.”
    “He did nothing for you,” he countered, his eyes blazing. He glared down at her as they entered the elevator and he punched a button with a vicious jab. “Are you planning to live the rest of your life the way you are?”
    Her green eyes widened. “Like I am?” she prodded.
    “Alone,” he said.
    She leaned back against the wall as the elevator hummed and began to move. “You’re alone,” she said.
    “Not all the time,” he said meaningfully.
    She glared at him. “I don’t believe in casual affairs,” she said shortly. “I could never be promiscuous, or give myself out of a purely physical urge.”
    “And if it was with someone you cared about, who cared about you?” he asked quietly.
    Her eyes searched his. “I don’t know.”
    “What about if it was with me?” he asked in a deep, velvety tone.
    She looked at him as if he’d just suggested that they catch a bellhop and barbecue him over a fire in the lobby. The expression on her face brought a reluctant smile to his dark face, and a twinkle to his eyes.
    “What…are we having for supper?” she asked evasively, her face almost the shade of the red highlights in her hair.
    He laughed softly. “Wait and see.”
    ***
    Josito served them a delicious meal of beef burgundy with a crisp chef’s salad and homemade rolls, accompanied by a rich port wine with a cheese flan for dessert. John ate his with obvious relish, while Madeline only picked at hers, looking distractedly out the window where flashes of lightning illuminated the jagged shape of the city skyline. What he’d said in the elevator disturbed her. Despite the hunger she had discovered for him, and his equally obvious hunger for her, she’d never consciously let herself think of John as a lover. Now she was forced to think of him in that role, and her own reaction to the idea surprised her.
    Her eyes involuntarily skimmed over his hard face, the mouth that had possessed hers so thoroughly. She could almost picture him in bed, his bronzed skin under her hands, that demanding mouth against every inch of her body, his hands touching her intimately.
    “Not hungry?” he asked suddenly, leaning back with his second cup of coffee in his hand.
    “Uh, not really, no,” she said uneasily.
    “You look embarrassed.” He cocked his head at her, his eyes narrow, searching. “Was it what I asked