Read Online High Noon by Nora Roberts - Free Book Online

prisoners with brown eyes, you’re the one he’s talking to?”
    â€œIf it’s in Savannah, chances are good.”
    â€œHow do you know what to say? What not to say?”
    â€œNegotiators are trained, and have experience in law enforcement. What?” she said when he shook his head.
    â€œNo. You have to know. Training, sure, experience, sure, but you have to know.”
    Odd, she thought, that he’d understand that when there were cops—Arnie Meeks sprang to mind—who didn’t. And never would. “You hope you know. And you have to listen, not just hear. And listening to you, here’s what I know. You live in Savannah because there wouldn’t be enough to do on that island in the South Pacific, or enough people to do it with. You don’t discount the sheer luck of buying a winning ticket along with a six-pack, but neither do you discount that sometimes things are simply meant. Telling me about the money wasn’t bragging, it was just fact—and fun. Now, the way I reacted to it mattered, in as much as if I’d suddenly put moves on you, we’d end this evening having sex, which would also be fun. But I’d no longer be stuck in your mind.”
    â€œSomething else I really like,” he commented. “A woman who does what she’s good at, and is good at what she does. If Suicide Joe was still working for me, I’d give the son of a bitch a raise.”
    She had to smile, and by God, she was charmed right down to the balls of her feet. But…“That’s quite a bit for one drink,” she decided. “Now I’ve got to get on home.”
    â€œYou love your kid—that’s first and last. Your eyes lit up when you said her name. The divorce still bothers you on some level. I don’t know which, not yet. Your work isn’t a career, it’s a vocation. Cab-driving bartender,” he said. “I know how to listen, too.”
    â€œYes, indeed. That’s quite a bit, on both sides, for one drink.”
    He rose when she did. “I’ll walk you to your car.”
    â€œIt’ll be a hike. It’s in the shop. I’m catching a CAT.”
    â€œJeez. I’ll drive you. Don’t be stupid, ’cause you’re not.” He took her arm with one hand, signaled a goodbye to the bar with the other on the way to the door.
    â€œYou’re the second man who’s offered me a ride tonight.”
    â€œOh yeah?”
    â€œThe first involved hopping onto the handlebars of his bike. As I told him, I don’t mind the bus.”
    â€œTake you just as long to walk to the bus stop as it will for us to walk to the lot down here. And I can promise you a smoother ride home.” He glanced down at her. “Nice night for a drive.”
    â€œI’m only up on Jones.”
    â€œOne of my favorite streets in the city.” He strolled now, sliding his hand down her arm to link it with hers. “So’s this one.”
    And here she was after all, Phoebe thought, half of a couple wandering on River Street, hand in hand. His was warm, the palm hard and wide. The sort of hand, she imagined, that could wrench the top off a pickle jar, catch a fly ball or cup a woman’s breast with equal ease.
    His legs were long, his stride loose and lazy. A man, Phoebe judged, who knew how to take his time when he wanted to.
    â€œNice night for a walk, too, especially along the river,” he commented.
    â€œI have to get home.”
    â€œSo you said. Not cold, are you?”
    â€œNo.”
    He walked into the lot, hailing the attendant. “How you doing there, Lester?”
    â€œDoing what comes, boss. Evening, ma’am.”
    A bill passed from hand to hand so smoothly Phoebe nearly missed it. Then she was standing, staring at a gleaming white Porsche.
    â€œNo handlebars.” Duncan shrugged, grinned, then opened the door for her.
    â€œI’m forced to admit this will be better