Holding the Dream Page 0,80

possibilities. He smiled. "Let's use baseball again. You're the batter, I'm the pitcher. You swing away. I finesse."

"You don't even know any of the people involved."

He would make it his business to, he thought grimly, but he kept his voice mild. "So, you'll tell me about them. You're practical enough to admit there's an advantage to a fresh viewpoint."

"I suppose it wouldn't hurt. Thanks."

"We can start working on the bios tomorrow. I can see why you were wired. You've had quite a day."

"It took some doing to bring myself down after the business at Bittle. Then I knew I had to face Aunt Susie. I took a breather at the cliffs, and - "

She jumped up from her chair. "Jesus, I forgot! I can't believe I actually forgot! God, what did I do with it?" Foolishly, she patted her hips, then remembered she was wearing nothing but an oversized T-shirt. "My pocket. I'll be right back. Stay here."

She streaked inside like a bullet, leaving Byron shaking his head after her. The woman was a mass of contradictions, he decided as he rose to clear the table. It was no use reminding himself that he preferred the quiet, soothing, and sophisticated type. The Laura type, he supposed. Well-mannered, well-read, well-bred.

Yet he'd never felt this bright, hot need with Laura. Or with anyone, for that matter.

Instead, it was Kate, this bumpy and often inconvenient detour, who continually fascinated him.

Just how would his complicated and turbulent Kate react if he told her he was beginning to believe he was falling in love with her?

"Hah!" Triumphant, she bolted back into the kitchen, prepared to bask in his astonishment. She smiled smugly as he stared at her, eyes dark and intense. "I found it."

She was flushed and rumpled. Her short hair stood in spikes, those long, slim legs pale gold beneath the hem of his shirt. She had no figure to speak of, was more bone than curve. The little mascara she'd bothered with was smudged under her eyes. Her nose was crooked. Had he noticed that before? The nose was just slightly off center, and her mouth was certainly too wide for that narrow face.

"You're not beautiful," he said in a quiet statement that made her brow knit "Why do you look beautiful when you're not?"

"How much of that wine did you drink, De Witt?"

"Your face is wrong." As if to prove it to himself, he came around the counter for a closer look. "It's like whoever put it together used a couple of spare parts from someone else's."

"This is all very fascinating," she said impatiently. "But - "

"At first glance your body looks like it belongs to a teenage boy, all arms and legs."

"Thank you very much, Mr. Universe. Have you finished your unsolicited critique of my looks?"

"Almost." His lips curved a little as he skimmed a hand along her jaw. "I love the way you look. I can't figure out why, but I love the way you look, the way you move." He slipped his arms around her, drew her in. "The way you smell."

"This is a novel way to seduce me."

"The way you taste," he continued and skimmed his lips up her throat.

"And it's surprisingly effective," she managed between shivers. "But I really wanted you to look at this."

He plucked her up, set her down on the counter, then slid his hand around to cup her bare bottom. "I'm going to make love with you here." He closed his teeth over the nipple that strained against the thin cotton. "Is that all right with you?"

"Yes. Good." Her head fell back. "Wherever."

Satisfied with that, he rubbed his lips over hers. "What do you want me to see?"

"Nothing. Just this."

He caught the coin that slipped through her fingers and puzzled over it. "Spanish? A doubloon, I suppose. Isn't this Margo's?"

"No. Mine. I found it." She drew in a long, shuddering breath, let it out. "God, how do you do that? It's like turning off a switch in my head. I found it," she repeated, struggling to separate her sense from her senses. "Today, on the cliffs. It was just lying there. Seraphina's dowry. You've heard the legend."

"Sure." Intrigued, he turned the coin over in his hand. "The star-crossed lovers. The young Spanish girl left behind in Monterey when the boy she loves goes off to fight the Americans. She hears he's been killed, and in despair she jumps off the cliffs."

He lifted his gaze from the gold to her eyes. "The cliffs, it's