Consumed by Fire Read Free Page B

he’d move. He’d like to drive the shy wariness from those wonderful eyes; he wanted her screaming beneath him as she came. He’d taken one look at her in the front hall of the old church and wanted her, and the more innocent she was appearing, the more he was allowing himself to fantasize.
    He was getting hard, and that wasn’t a good idea, so he tore his mind away from her dusty, gorgeous legs and concentrated on the road. The Fiat could handle these twisty turns even better than the Lexus, and on impulse he let the car loose, just a bit, taking the next curve at a speed that would have caused a normal person to blanch.
    The woman beside him didn’t. She watched the countryside whiz past, and her eyes were shining, her breath coming faster. But her hands had let go of the knapsack and grabbed the cloth seat, her knuckles white, and there was no disputing that she was both terrified and exhilarated by his driving.
    He immediately slowed the car. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m afraid I drive a little too fast for most people’s comfort. It comes from living in Rome for years.” He’d never spent more than a week in Rome at one time, but it made for a good explanation for his excellent Italian, which he was sure she’d noticed. She was the kind of woman who noticed things.
    She turned to look at him, giving him a wry smile. “I’m sorry. I’m a bit of a chickenshit. Though I have to admit it was fun.”
    “When you weren’t terrified for your life?” he suggested.
    “There’s that,” she agreed. “By the way, my name’s Evangeline Morrissey.”
    “James Bishop,” he replied, reaching out to shake her hand. Now what in the hell had prompted him to give her his real name? He really must be off his game.
    It didn’t matter. He was going to disappear as soon as he was certain she wasn’t a problem. Claudia wasn’t one for accepting his gut feelings anymore, but if he could just keep the girl safe until Claudia left then he wouldn’t have to worry. The ancient Romans might have been into sacrificing stray lambs—he wasn’t.
    “Evangeline,” he murmured. “That’s very pretty. What do people call you? Vangie?”
    She shuddered. “God, no. They call me ‘professor.’ ”
    He raised an eyebrow. “You want me to call you ‘professor’?”
    “No, of course not. Evangeline will do.”
    He smiled at her, and he watched her melt a little bit. He’d perfected that smile, that look, and it worked on everyone, male and female. “In that case, Evangeline, will you have dinner with me tonight?”
    She’d just been beginning to relax, but those words made her tense up once more. Why? “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she said.
    “Why not? We both have to eat, and there are only two decent restaurants in town. We’ve got a fifty-fifty chance of ending up at the same place. Why don’t we just plan to eat together?”
    “What about the woman who was with you?”
    She’d been observant. She’d only seen Claudia for a minute, but he had no doubt she’d be able to describe her perfectly. She was a detail-oriented academic. A liability, Claudia would say.
    Not if he could help it.
    “Claudia is a business associate, nothing more. She already has plans for dinner, and I don’t.” He smiled at her, and her eyes widened at the force of his full frontal assault. No woman could withstand him when he was being charming. An insecure professor from the States would be child’s play.
    “No,” she said. “It’s not a good idea.”
    Bishop stared at her, momentarily silenced. He could get past this, call in a few favors once they got back to town. It would be easy enough to find out where she was, bump into her. He knew women well enough to know she was reluctantly attracted to him. But why the reluctance? He glanced at her hands. No wedding ring, no engagement ring, so it couldn’t be that.
    “Are you involved with someone and think it would be cheating? I promise, I’m only talking