“I’ll have to think about that. May be a little too sinister … but it might work …” She was surprised to find she could only halfheartedly consider the show just now.
Quickly she pulled on her clothes—she would bathe later, at her apartment—and smoothed her hair. Hurriedly checking in her compact mirror for mascara smudges beneath her eyes, she noticed how her face had the bee-stung, blurry, compliant look of sensual contentment. She clicked the compact shut, as if to enclose that look and that moment of emotional peace as a keepsake to take with her into the next few days. Now, she thought, here come the brief words, the preoccupied kiss, the goodbye.
Carter emerged from the bathroom, his shirt buttoned and tucked into his trousers, his tie hanging loosely around his neck. Joanna saw him clearly: a handsome, tense, ambitious man. At forty-two, he was balding, but he wore it well. It made his already long face look longer, his forehead higher; he looked even more intellectual than he was.Tennis, riding, skiing, sailing, all the sports he loved and did so well, kept him trim and lean. He wore elegant, expensive clothing; today a pinstripe suit of a blue as inky-dark and soap-smooth as carbon paper. His eyes were an electric, frosty, computer-screen blue, a judicious consequence of his laserlike intelligence and his carefully chosen contact lenses.
Carter stared at Joanna, drinking her in with his eyes, then reached out and brought her close to him. Hiding his face against her hair, he confessed, “I don’t know how I’m going to get through this next month. Christ, Joanna, I’m going to miss you.”
This was almost worse than anything, Joanna thought, this sensation of love which made her heart swell with joy and hope and confusion. She held her breath, trying to stem the welling tide of tears which threatened to embarrass her.
Only when she’d regained her composure did she allow herself to say calmly, “I’ll miss you, too.”
Carter pulled away, and suddenly he was smiling, his relaxed, almost piercingly beautiful smile that made him seem years younger. “I’ve got a present for you. Wait.”
In a few strides he crossed the room, exited Joanna’s office, and returned, bearing in his arms a large, heavy box of brown cardboard. A red bow had been fastened to the top.
“Good Lord!” Joanna laughed with pleasure and surprise. “What is it?”
As he bent down to set it on the floor before her, his face flushed with exertion and his own delight, Carter answered, “Open it and find out.” He handed her a paper knife from the desk.
She ripped off the bow and tossed it aside, slit through the cellophane tape, and, pulling back the sections of the lid, discovered the gleaming sumptuous cover of Houses along the Hudson staring up at her.
“Carter!”
When she picked up the top book, she found a book on castles on the Loire, and beneath that a book on manor houses and country estates in England. Then a book on southern plantation homes. She lifted the books out and stacked them on the coffee table. A book devoted to conservatories and sunrooms in houses throughout the United States. Two books filled with elaborate architectural drawings and watercolors of the rooms and furnishings from famous novels, from the House of Seven Gables to Tara. All were filled with fascinating text.
“Oh, Carter,” Joanna cried. “These are just delicious! I could just … eat them!”
“Better not,” Carter replied gruffly, pleased by her pleasure.
Joanna ran her hands over the pile of books, which glowed like jewels with their rich, vibrant colors. She was deeply moved by Carter’s gesture and, wanting to do something equally generous for him, she cocked her head and said lightly, “I can’t wait to curl up with these. Now I won’t even know you’re gone.”
Looking up, she met his eyes. She managed to keep the smile on her face. Carter’s gaze was dense with love and pain.
“I’ve got to
Quickly she pulled on her clothes—she would bathe later, at her apartment—and smoothed her hair. Hurriedly checking in her compact mirror for mascara smudges beneath her eyes, she noticed how her face had the bee-stung, blurry, compliant look of sensual contentment. She clicked the compact shut, as if to enclose that look and that moment of emotional peace as a keepsake to take with her into the next few days. Now, she thought, here come the brief words, the preoccupied kiss, the goodbye.
Carter emerged from the bathroom, his shirt buttoned and tucked into his trousers, his tie hanging loosely around his neck. Joanna saw him clearly: a handsome, tense, ambitious man. At forty-two, he was balding, but he wore it well. It made his already long face look longer, his forehead higher; he looked even more intellectual than he was.Tennis, riding, skiing, sailing, all the sports he loved and did so well, kept him trim and lean. He wore elegant, expensive clothing; today a pinstripe suit of a blue as inky-dark and soap-smooth as carbon paper. His eyes were an electric, frosty, computer-screen blue, a judicious consequence of his laserlike intelligence and his carefully chosen contact lenses.
Carter stared at Joanna, drinking her in with his eyes, then reached out and brought her close to him. Hiding his face against her hair, he confessed, “I don’t know how I’m going to get through this next month. Christ, Joanna, I’m going to miss you.”
This was almost worse than anything, Joanna thought, this sensation of love which made her heart swell with joy and hope and confusion. She held her breath, trying to stem the welling tide of tears which threatened to embarrass her.
Only when she’d regained her composure did she allow herself to say calmly, “I’ll miss you, too.”
Carter pulled away, and suddenly he was smiling, his relaxed, almost piercingly beautiful smile that made him seem years younger. “I’ve got a present for you. Wait.”
In a few strides he crossed the room, exited Joanna’s office, and returned, bearing in his arms a large, heavy box of brown cardboard. A red bow had been fastened to the top.
“Good Lord!” Joanna laughed with pleasure and surprise. “What is it?”
As he bent down to set it on the floor before her, his face flushed with exertion and his own delight, Carter answered, “Open it and find out.” He handed her a paper knife from the desk.
She ripped off the bow and tossed it aside, slit through the cellophane tape, and, pulling back the sections of the lid, discovered the gleaming sumptuous cover of Houses along the Hudson staring up at her.
“Carter!”
When she picked up the top book, she found a book on castles on the Loire, and beneath that a book on manor houses and country estates in England. Then a book on southern plantation homes. She lifted the books out and stacked them on the coffee table. A book devoted to conservatories and sunrooms in houses throughout the United States. Two books filled with elaborate architectural drawings and watercolors of the rooms and furnishings from famous novels, from the House of Seven Gables to Tara. All were filled with fascinating text.
“Oh, Carter,” Joanna cried. “These are just delicious! I could just … eat them!”
“Better not,” Carter replied gruffly, pleased by her pleasure.
Joanna ran her hands over the pile of books, which glowed like jewels with their rich, vibrant colors. She was deeply moved by Carter’s gesture and, wanting to do something equally generous for him, she cocked her head and said lightly, “I can’t wait to curl up with these. Now I won’t even know you’re gone.”
Looking up, she met his eyes. She managed to keep the smile on her face. Carter’s gaze was dense with love and pain.
“I’ve got to
Similar Books
The Wolf in His Arms (The Runes Trilogy)
Adrian Lilly
A Bad Night's Sleep
Michael Wiley
The Detachment
Barry Eisler
At Fear's Altar
Richard Gavin
The Portuguese Affair
Ann Swinfen
Dangerous Games
Victor Milan, Clayton Emery
Four Dukes and a Devil
Jeaniene Frost, Cathy Maxwell, Tracy Anne Warren, Sophia Nash, Elaine Fox
Fenzy
Robert Liparulo
Sonnet to a Dead Contessa
Gilbert Morris