Read Online Pages of Passion by Dara Girard - Free Book Online

don’t usually make people laugh. Maybe I should stop talking.”
    He shook his head. “No, I like it, just talk about something else.” He pointed at her and said in a stern voice, “Just try not to be funny.”
    Her lips twitched but she obliged and told him other stories about interesting people she’d met on the ship. Then she told him about her eagerness to visit the islands and what she hoped to see on her high-seas adventure. At that point Michael realized he liked listening to her talk. He liked her slight New England accent and the pictures she painted with words. “You’re a really good storyteller. Have you ever thought of writing your stories down?”
    “Oh, um…no,” she said awkwardly. “I leave the writing to my sister.”
    “You have a sister?” he asked, already knowing the answer.
    “Yes, we’re twins actually.”
    “Identical?”
    “Yes.”
    He paused. “Ever switched places?”
    “A few times when we were ten,” she admitted. “But then my grandmother found out and made our lives so miserable we never did it again.”
    “Is your sister anything like you?”
    “No, she’s, um…what’s the word?”
    “Boring?”
    “No,” she said in a tight voice. “More reserved. She writes romance novels.”
    “While you live them? I bet she uses you as her inspiration.”
    She lowered her gaze. “No, she says her imagination is enough.”
    “If I had you in my life, I wouldn’t need any imagination.”
    Arlene blushed and again she baffled him. How could a woman who wore a bright bikini blush at such an ordinary compliment?
    “Tell me more about my competition.”
    “Why?” She took off her swimming cap and fluffed up her hair. She adjusted the towel wrapped around her.
    “I want to know.” Michael extended his hand and lifted her arm. “Did he give you this?” he asked, gesturing to the silver bracelet.
    “Yes.”
    “Could I at least get a name? Or are you making him up?”
    “He is not a figment of my imagination. His name is Clyde. Clyde Harris. He’s an antiques dealer.”
    “Like you?”
    “I work for him.”
    “That sounds cozy. A clever way to ensure job security.”
    She frowned. “We have a lot in common. He’s also very generous, an excellent dresser and—” she faltered and reached for her suntan lotion.
    “And?”
    “And that’s all you need to know.”
    “But I want to know more. How did you meet?”
    She shook her head. “That’s none of your business and forget about trying to get me to share anything more. You’re a man of the world and our meeting is just a moment in time. I don’t believe I am, or will be, the only woman in your life. Why should you expect to be the only man?”
    It was a fair question that Michael couldn’t answer. In an instant something in him changed. He didn’t want to be just another man in a woman’s life, the charmer, the playboy, the friend. His past relationships—both real and false—suddenly felt hollow. He craved something more. Something real and lasting. He didn’t want to be with just any woman; he wanted to be with This Woman and he wanted to be Her Man. The one and only.
    He didn’t want another man to touch her, to wake up to her smile, to taste her lips. Especially when he hadn’t had the chance to yet. The strength of his desire surprised him and he fought to keep it at bay. It had to be the medication that was fogging his brain. He was only going to take aspirin from now on.
    “Besides,” she continued. “I know more about him than I do about you.”
    Michael studied her then tilted his head to the side. “What do you want to know?”
    She stared at him for a moment then asked, “What do you do?”
    “I’m a travel writer.”
    “It must pay well.”
    “I also have various investments.”
    “How about women?”
    He grinned. “Yes, I like to invest in them too.”
    She met his grin with one of her own. “Are you investing in one now?”
    “Do you mean right now or generally?”
    She raised