Read Online Renegade Moon (CupidKey) by Karen E. Rigley, Ann M. House - Free Book Online
Authors: Karen E. Rigley, Ann M. House
Ads: Link
impassively. Catching Destiny’s eye, the man smiled and nodded. She cast her gaze down, then asked Lee, “Who are those men at that table over there?”
“Where?” Lee squinted.
“Never mind. You can’t see them now. That carved totem pole is in the way.” At last the song ended. She immediately headed for their table, leaving him no choice but to follow, or dance on alone.
“Now where are those men you were asking about?” Lee looked right in their direction. “Oh, you mean those two?”
Destiny nodded and he continued in an oddly strained voice. “Ah, that’s Miles Jard and his, ah, associate, Stoker.”
“Are they from around here?”
“Well, they’re here occasionally on business.”
“Business?” she pressed.
“They . . . buy local crafts. Ah. There’s Martin and Iris.” He stood quickly. “Drinks?”
“Not for me,” Destiny said, but the other two accepted. Just then she noticed Eric coming in the entry door. About a minute later the same man who had come into the restaurant to talk to Jard and Stoker entered, strode right over to Jard’s table, and sat down. At that moment, Eric took a seat beside Destiny.
“Eric, who is that man sitting with his back to us at Miles Jard’s table?”
Voice cut with a knife-edge, he asked, “How do you know Miles Jard?”
“I don’t. I asked Lee his name because the man was staring at me. Who is that with him?” she repeated.
Eric’s brow furrowed. “His name is Glen King. Why?”
“No real reason. He was talking with them in the restaurant today, too.”
“So?”
“Why are you so defensive? Are they friends of yours?”
He gave a derisive snort. “Not hardly.”
Destiny wondered if her idea that Glen King had delayed Eric’s trip home after lunch might be her own flight of fancy, but before she could press further, Lee returned with the tray of drinks. To her total surprise, Lee brought her a Margarita. He put a glass in front of Eric.
“Got you some Ginger ale,” he said, sitting down and raising his own Margarita to his lips.
“Thanks,” Eric said, and took a drink.
Exasperated, Destiny pushed her Margarita aside. “Lee, I don’t want this. You shouldn’t have brought it to me.”
Miles Jard approached, obviously heading right for their table. And his colorless eyes were fastened on Destiny.
“May I have this dance?” he asked, very courtly, holding out a hand to her.
Her gaze flew to Eric. His dark brows drew together, but he said nothing. She felt she had no choice but to accept. Miles Jard danced smoothly, without flamboyancy, and was easy to follow. He didn’t hold her too tightly or act offensively in any way whatsoever. But Destiny’s skin crawled.
“I haven’t seen you in the area before,” he said in a strange, flat voice.
“I’m here on assignment from a magazine. They’ve uncovered an army post and Native American camp nearby and I’m doing a story about it.”
“The one the Rampton Foundation is sponsoring?”
“Yes. That’s the one.” Oh, song, please end!
“How is your assignment progressing?”
“Ah, very well. I’ve collected a lot of material. Enough for several articles.”
“Indeed,” he commented in his toneless voice, and finished the dance in silence. He escorted her back to her table, thanked her, and walked away.
“What did he say to you?” Lee demanded.
Destiny glanced at him in surprise. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, what did he say to you?”
“He asked me what brought me to Las Nubes, and I told him. Lee, what’s the matter?”
“Nothing. I need another drink.”
People were eating, but nobody in their group made a move to the buffet. Destiny didn’t feel particularly hungry, but she wished Lee would eat something. He was getting quite drunk.
At last Eric stood. “Let’s get some barbeque.”
“Yes.” Destiny quickly rose. Martin and Iris joined them and they trooped to the buffet. The food tempted; thick slices of juicy brisket, green
“Where?” Lee squinted.
“Never mind. You can’t see them now. That carved totem pole is in the way.” At last the song ended. She immediately headed for their table, leaving him no choice but to follow, or dance on alone.
“Now where are those men you were asking about?” Lee looked right in their direction. “Oh, you mean those two?”
Destiny nodded and he continued in an oddly strained voice. “Ah, that’s Miles Jard and his, ah, associate, Stoker.”
“Are they from around here?”
“Well, they’re here occasionally on business.”
“Business?” she pressed.
“They . . . buy local crafts. Ah. There’s Martin and Iris.” He stood quickly. “Drinks?”
“Not for me,” Destiny said, but the other two accepted. Just then she noticed Eric coming in the entry door. About a minute later the same man who had come into the restaurant to talk to Jard and Stoker entered, strode right over to Jard’s table, and sat down. At that moment, Eric took a seat beside Destiny.
“Eric, who is that man sitting with his back to us at Miles Jard’s table?”
Voice cut with a knife-edge, he asked, “How do you know Miles Jard?”
“I don’t. I asked Lee his name because the man was staring at me. Who is that with him?” she repeated.
Eric’s brow furrowed. “His name is Glen King. Why?”
“No real reason. He was talking with them in the restaurant today, too.”
“So?”
“Why are you so defensive? Are they friends of yours?”
He gave a derisive snort. “Not hardly.”
Destiny wondered if her idea that Glen King had delayed Eric’s trip home after lunch might be her own flight of fancy, but before she could press further, Lee returned with the tray of drinks. To her total surprise, Lee brought her a Margarita. He put a glass in front of Eric.
“Got you some Ginger ale,” he said, sitting down and raising his own Margarita to his lips.
“Thanks,” Eric said, and took a drink.
Exasperated, Destiny pushed her Margarita aside. “Lee, I don’t want this. You shouldn’t have brought it to me.”
Miles Jard approached, obviously heading right for their table. And his colorless eyes were fastened on Destiny.
“May I have this dance?” he asked, very courtly, holding out a hand to her.
Her gaze flew to Eric. His dark brows drew together, but he said nothing. She felt she had no choice but to accept. Miles Jard danced smoothly, without flamboyancy, and was easy to follow. He didn’t hold her too tightly or act offensively in any way whatsoever. But Destiny’s skin crawled.
“I haven’t seen you in the area before,” he said in a strange, flat voice.
“I’m here on assignment from a magazine. They’ve uncovered an army post and Native American camp nearby and I’m doing a story about it.”
“The one the Rampton Foundation is sponsoring?”
“Yes. That’s the one.” Oh, song, please end!
“How is your assignment progressing?”
“Ah, very well. I’ve collected a lot of material. Enough for several articles.”
“Indeed,” he commented in his toneless voice, and finished the dance in silence. He escorted her back to her table, thanked her, and walked away.
“What did he say to you?” Lee demanded.
Destiny glanced at him in surprise. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, what did he say to you?”
“He asked me what brought me to Las Nubes, and I told him. Lee, what’s the matter?”
“Nothing. I need another drink.”
People were eating, but nobody in their group made a move to the buffet. Destiny didn’t feel particularly hungry, but she wished Lee would eat something. He was getting quite drunk.
At last Eric stood. “Let’s get some barbeque.”
“Yes.” Destiny quickly rose. Martin and Iris joined them and they trooped to the buffet. The food tempted; thick slices of juicy brisket, green
Similar Books
