Read Online HerOutlandishStranger by Summer Devon - Free Book Online Page A

scoffed and called Jazz “too earnest to live” and told him to leave
Sun alone. He wished he could, but for some reason he had a strong compulsion
to bug the poor guy. Sheer stubbornness he supposed.
    Miss Wickman had slowed. “Why do you frown, Mr. White? Have
I offended you?” Her voice sounded so tentative, he realized she might even be
afraid of him.
    He made the effort to smile and reassure her. “Huh, I’m not
mad at you. I was thinking of my brother.”
    “And you frown because you recall the reason he is angry at
you?”
    He forgot he had talked to her about Sun. Who would imagine
she’d remember all of his babbling?
    “Yeah, yes,” he said slowly. “When I see him, I try to talk
to him. About our, er, past problems.”
    She’d caught up with him and now strode along at his side.
“And what does he reply?”
    Jazz thought about the last time he tried to communicate
with his brother via the web.
    He had jumped straight to the subject, hoping Sun wouldn’t
avoid him.
    Sun had interrupted him, almost viciously. “We’re not to rub
your face in something that wasn’t your fault and you can’t even remember. No
point, right? I told you.” And Jazz’s mind’s eye, the psunder connection with
him, had gone black.
    Did that count as a reply? Not really.
    Jazz smiled at Miss Wickman. “He doesn’t say anything. He
doesn’t have time to talk about it. But I suppose I’ll try again when I see
him.” Poor old Sun.
    “Good for you, Mr. White,” Miss Wickman answered without
hesitation. She clutched his arm. “Oh, you are right to try to speak to him
even if he fobs you off. You must keep trying!”
    He slowed down to glance at her, surprised by the emotion
vibrating through her soft voice.
    “Thank you,” he said, touched by her concern. “I shall.”
    She nodded, but sorrow skimmed her face and he wondered if
his words had called up some sad memory for her. Poor woman. He felt sympathy
overlaid with a prickling of his usual guilt. More trouble coming your way,
as you’ll figure out soon enough, lady .
    She turned and as she looked into his face, something more
than concern shone in her deep eyes. He smiled again to reassure her. His smile
faltered as her gaze pulled at him, beckoned him closer.
    His breath grew fast and too-familiar symptoms seized him
but he knew this moment was different. The softened quality of her gaze—she had
not watched him like this before.
    He had to break that powerful contact and he pulled away by
lengthening his strides. “I’m gonna look for our friend.”
    She gave him a nod, clearly too polite to tell him she
thought he was crazy. Even as he scanned the area, he grinned to himself. Miss
Wickman tried so hard not to question his strange actions. Maybe she was right
and there was no stranger or maybe Steele had lost interest in them. Jazz
wished he believed it, but his overdeveloped sense of danger still prickled.
And why else would Steele be lurking about the place?
    Miss Wickman strode along behind, several lengths back. Too
far. He slowed his pace, but didn’t stop to wait for her. They’d rest soon
enough, and he could see by the signs he knew—how she picked her steps, held up
her skirt, the color of her cheeks—she still had energy. Not enough for casual
conversation, which was fine with Jazz. He wasn’t sure it was such a good thing
they talk so much. He enjoyed any face-to-face talking with Miss Wickman too
much.
    He realized that in his life he was usually alone with only
CR contact. He could not recall ever spending so much time in the same space as
another person. All these days together made that person more immediate, more
important than anything else. Or maybe Miss Wickman was so important to him
because of his body’s wild-state reaction to her.
    No, that wasn’t the whole explanation. His response was now
usually endurable. Usually. Occasionally he’d spot a patch of the pale skin on
her neck or a trace of delicate vein in her wrist or the