Read Online Private Indiscretions by Susan Crosby - Free Book Online

warrant this spectacular gift.”
    He angled toward her, sliding his arm along the back ofthe swing. “I finally realized what the medal meant. Thank you.”
    Her eyes seemed to see so far into his soul he almost couldn’t breathe. Her lips curved into a soft smile. “You’re welcome.”
    The simplicity of her words and the open pleasure on her face warmed him, making him ignore the hurt she’d caused. She held the mask to her chest and sat back, bringing her shoulder in contact with his hand. Everything stilled—the insects, the birds, the air. She looked at him with such need….
    From the corner of his eye he caught a movement, then saw a gray-haired woman carrying a tray, walking along the flagstone path.
    Dana leaned toward him, her voice low. “You’re not getting away so fast tonight. I asked my housekeeper to bring some wine and hors d’oeuvres. You’ll stay, won’t you?”
    â€œIt seems to be an executive order.”
    â€œWhat good is power if you don’t use it?” she asked sweetly, even though they both knew it hadn’t been an order and he certainly wasn’t obligated to accept.
    â€œThank you, Hilda,” she said as the woman set the tray on a table in front of the swing. “This is Sam Remington.”
    â€œMr. Remington.”
    Starched, he decided. Or she hated him on sight. “The food looks great.”
    She nodded.
    He watched her march back to the house. “She could take on a few drill sergeants I know.”
    â€œI’d like to say that under that surface lurks a heart of gold, but I haven’t seen it. She’s the most consistent person I know, however. You’re the first man I’ve had to the house, so she’s a little curious.”
    â€œYou haven’t dated?”
    She busied herself with the wine. He came to his own conclusion.
    â€œWhy not, Dana?”
    â€œOh, time. Energy. Interest. The fishbowl. You know.”
    He was reading between the lines and purposefully kept his voice gentle. “We can’t date, you know.”
    â€œI know.” She lifted her head. “Why can’t we?”
    He almost smiled. She used to question everything. He’d liked that. He still liked it, even though he didn’t really want her to be so appealing.
    â€œThat fishbowl you mentioned,” he told her, taking the wine bottle from her to pour. He passed her a glass and gave her the only reason out of several complicated ones he thought she would believe. “You’re public and I’m private. Anonymity is critical to my job.”
    â€œI checked you out.” She looked at him over the rim of her wineglass.
    â€œI expected nothing less. What’d you find out?”
    â€œThat you’re the R in ARC Security & Investigations, a private-investigation firm not listed in the Yellow Pages. From what I can tell, you work by referral only and take only high-profile cases. Politicians, celebrities, business executives and the wealthy in general. Your reputation is impeccable. Yours and the firm’s.”
    Yet you don’t trust me?
    She sipped her wine. “But as far as anonymity goes, Sam, you don’t exactly blend into the background, you know.”
    â€œAre you flattering me? I can become as invisible as I need to be.”
    â€œNot when there are women around.”
    He didn’t have an answer to that compliment, so he let it go.
    â€œAlthough you scare Lilith,” she said.
    â€œWell, you know those conservatives. Afraid of their own shadows.”
    They drank Chardonnay and ate an entire platter of antipasto—tangy marinated green olives, a mellow cheese hedidn’t recognize, paper-thin slices of prosciutto, and bruschetta piled with diced tomato and drizzled with olive oil.
    â€œHow did you end up in the army?” she asked.
    His gaze was drawn to a drop of oil glistening at the corner of her mouth. Thoughts of the ways he