Read Online One Magic Night by Shirley Larson - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Shirley Larson
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supposed to be fixing his car.
He said, "Where are you off to in such a hurry?"
"I…I’m going out in the country."
He stretched out a hand and leaned against the opposite wall, trapping her on the landing. She fought the rise of awareness of him, the lean line of his throat, the way his belt circled a narrow waist, the taut muscles of thigh and leg covered by faded denim.
He studied her as if he were assessing her reaction to him. She fought to keep her face cool and force her breathing to a more normal rate, but her attempt to disguise her disturbed state must have been patently obvious to him. A lazy, self-assured smile tugged at his mouth. He asked, "Are you going by yourself?"
She didn't owe him an explanation. She found herself giving it anyway. "Yes. I'm going to collect enough corn stalks to make a corn shock and gather up some pumpkins to decorate my room at school."
The smile drifted upward a fraction of an inch. "Is that what everybody does in Springwater on a Sunday afternoon?"
"No, mostly they set up their antique shops and try to convince some unsuspecting city person to buy a slightly used horse hame or a spinning wheel.”
Ty arched an eyebrow. "Rampant tourism," he said dryly.
The thought of Springwater being a tourist center made her mouth relax into a slight smile. "That's stretching it a little."
"Where are you going to get these decorative items?"
"From a farm where one of my students lives."
"Won't you need some help?"
"No. I can handle it."
The arm didn't move. "So you're going to send me up to my room to spend this beautiful day in solitary confinement."
Pushed, her gray eyes gleamed with antagonism. "You had things to do this morning," she said coolly. "I'm sure you'll find something to keep you occupied this afternoon."
He stared at her, his eyes speculative. Then he smiled, a warm, teasing smile. For some reason, her cool words had pleased him. "This morning I had other things on my mind."
The words were low, lazy, and they goaded her into action. She moved forward, thinking he would step aside to let her pass. He didn't. His body tensed and his arm tightened. She had only succeeded in putting herself right under his nose. She looked up at him and defiance in her eyes, didn’t move.
His eyes narrowed and a frown brought his brows together, but he didn't say anything.
In a frosty tone, she said, "Would you let me by, please?"
He settled one shoulder against the wall and flattened his palm out on the other one as if he were a permanent wedge. "Why don't I go along and give you a hand at 'bringing in the sheaves'?”
She met his gaze with a cool, steady look. "I'm not going to grant you an interview, Mr. Rundell."
If he felt a reaction, he hid it. He gave a careless shrug. "That's your privilege. It’s a moot point, anyway. I decided this morning I was no longer interested in basing my movie on you."
His quiet words shook her. She had not expected him to give up so easily. He had thrown her off guard. She let her eyes flicker over his face, wondering if he really meant it. If he did, she should be relieved. Why wasn’t she? "Then there really isn't any point in our spending time together, is there?" She moved as if to walk past him.
He stood rock hard, unyielding. "Oh, there's a point," he drawled. "The other night proved that."
"One kiss in the moonlight doesn’t prove anything.”
He dropped his arm from the wall and clasped her upper arms, his face unreadable. "Stop pretending with me, Leigh. You're as attracted to me as I am to you."
The contact of those lean fingers through the thin cotton of her blouse made her nerves sing with excitement. "Okay. I admit it. I’m as attracted to you as you are to me. Now what?”
She’d really thrown him. He stood there, staring at her. She said, “I guess you’re not as interested in the truth as you thought you were.”
“I’m always interested in the truth. I’m not sure that’s what I
He said, "Where are you off to in such a hurry?"
"I…I’m going out in the country."
He stretched out a hand and leaned against the opposite wall, trapping her on the landing. She fought the rise of awareness of him, the lean line of his throat, the way his belt circled a narrow waist, the taut muscles of thigh and leg covered by faded denim.
He studied her as if he were assessing her reaction to him. She fought to keep her face cool and force her breathing to a more normal rate, but her attempt to disguise her disturbed state must have been patently obvious to him. A lazy, self-assured smile tugged at his mouth. He asked, "Are you going by yourself?"
She didn't owe him an explanation. She found herself giving it anyway. "Yes. I'm going to collect enough corn stalks to make a corn shock and gather up some pumpkins to decorate my room at school."
The smile drifted upward a fraction of an inch. "Is that what everybody does in Springwater on a Sunday afternoon?"
"No, mostly they set up their antique shops and try to convince some unsuspecting city person to buy a slightly used horse hame or a spinning wheel.”
Ty arched an eyebrow. "Rampant tourism," he said dryly.
The thought of Springwater being a tourist center made her mouth relax into a slight smile. "That's stretching it a little."
"Where are you going to get these decorative items?"
"From a farm where one of my students lives."
"Won't you need some help?"
"No. I can handle it."
The arm didn't move. "So you're going to send me up to my room to spend this beautiful day in solitary confinement."
Pushed, her gray eyes gleamed with antagonism. "You had things to do this morning," she said coolly. "I'm sure you'll find something to keep you occupied this afternoon."
He stared at her, his eyes speculative. Then he smiled, a warm, teasing smile. For some reason, her cool words had pleased him. "This morning I had other things on my mind."
The words were low, lazy, and they goaded her into action. She moved forward, thinking he would step aside to let her pass. He didn't. His body tensed and his arm tightened. She had only succeeded in putting herself right under his nose. She looked up at him and defiance in her eyes, didn’t move.
His eyes narrowed and a frown brought his brows together, but he didn't say anything.
In a frosty tone, she said, "Would you let me by, please?"
He settled one shoulder against the wall and flattened his palm out on the other one as if he were a permanent wedge. "Why don't I go along and give you a hand at 'bringing in the sheaves'?”
She met his gaze with a cool, steady look. "I'm not going to grant you an interview, Mr. Rundell."
If he felt a reaction, he hid it. He gave a careless shrug. "That's your privilege. It’s a moot point, anyway. I decided this morning I was no longer interested in basing my movie on you."
His quiet words shook her. She had not expected him to give up so easily. He had thrown her off guard. She let her eyes flicker over his face, wondering if he really meant it. If he did, she should be relieved. Why wasn’t she? "Then there really isn't any point in our spending time together, is there?" She moved as if to walk past him.
He stood rock hard, unyielding. "Oh, there's a point," he drawled. "The other night proved that."
"One kiss in the moonlight doesn’t prove anything.”
He dropped his arm from the wall and clasped her upper arms, his face unreadable. "Stop pretending with me, Leigh. You're as attracted to me as I am to you."
The contact of those lean fingers through the thin cotton of her blouse made her nerves sing with excitement. "Okay. I admit it. I’m as attracted to you as you are to me. Now what?”
She’d really thrown him. He stood there, staring at her. She said, “I guess you’re not as interested in the truth as you thought you were.”
“I’m always interested in the truth. I’m not sure that’s what I
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