Read Online Hide and Seek by Charlene Newberg - Free Book Online Page A

Tropical Storm Gemma is wrapping up in the Gulf of Mexico and will be a hurricane by tomorrow. The Florida Panhandle and parts of the Gulf Coast west to Mississippi are under a watch. If I leave in the morning, I can make it home and have time to secure my property before she makes landfall.”
    "Are you saying you'll take us to Commerce?"
    Holt didn't like it, but the hopeful light in Caprice's eyes and her soft drawl were a resolve-breaking combination that made him ache to toss his control aside where she was concerned. "We leave before daybreak," he said gruffly. "No sleeping late. Got that?"
    "Yes. I’ll call Grace in the morning, so she’ll know when to expect us.” Her eyes sparkled. "But what about poor Jack? I hope he’s coming with us."
    He reached up to rub the tension from his nape. "No. Dad wants to stay and help his neighbors.”
    “I’m learning that helping others comes natural to LeBerger men,” she said and Holt grinned, appreciating her sentiment as she picked up the book. “So, do you like to fish?”
    “Yes, I do.”
    “Grace and I used to fish for bass on Tygart Lake. It wasn’t far from my grandparents’ home."
    Holt looped an arm to rest on his bent knee and tried to recall the last time he'd talked easily with a beautiful, intelligent woman. "I can't imagine you hooking a night crawler."
    She shuddered. "I didn’t. We drop-fished over bridges with stale bread, corn, and Cheerios for bait."
    "How old were you when you lost your parents?"
    "Ten. Grace was twelve." Caprice returned to her work on his father’s book.
    “That must have been tough. I’m sorry.”
    “Thank you.” She rewarded him with a sweet smile. “Do you fly fish?”
    He blinked, bedazzled by wide, emerald eyes. How could he be talking fish, bait, and tackle and be aroused at the same time? Was there anything this woman couldn’t do? “You fly fish?”
    Her eyes lit. “I know a place near the New River Gorge Bridge. There’s brook and rainbow trout. West Virginia rivers are the best for catching trout on the fly. I can easily snag with dry flies, dragons, and mayflies.”
    "I’m a lazy angler,” he admitted, “so I prefer dry flies as well.” After a few comfortable seconds, he stretched out his legs. “Dad’s roof is dried-in. Now the pump is drawing water from the basement. Got a lot accomplished."
    Holt was rambling, doing a poor job of fighting his attraction. His gaze sought her mouth, and all his determination ground to an agonizing halt like brake pads worn to the metal. He wanted to press his lips to hers, to tarry, taste and discover Caprice, but he would not be acting on impulse with this Irish witch. Instead, he inhaled peach and reached to stroke her hair.
    She pulled back. "Don't."
    “Dammit!” His temper snapped. He stood and she did the same. How could she think he would harm her? “I’m not some monster who will tear you limb from limb.”
    “At least you can read my face.” Her gaze threw sparks. “You have an inkling of what I'm thinking because my expressions make me...transparent, but I’m left to guess your feelings because I can’t see your face.”
    "There's nothing to see."
    "I disagree. There’s always something to discover. I learned that studying portraiture at the university.”
    "You have an art degree?"
    She nodded. "The University of Charleston. I loved portrait painting, but I stopped when it became clear that I had become more and more…” Her gaze narrowed as if she was recalling something unpleasant.
    “What?”
    “Arrogant and demanding. I became filled with my own self-importance.”
    He could tell by the sadness in her tone that she believed it, but he never would. There was more, but Caprice wasn’t one for long explanations, and she became brisk. The time for asking questions was over.
    When she knelt to retrieve the book and the cornstarch, he glimpsed the soft, rounded mounds of her breasts nestled in a pink lace bra. Heat shot through him like a