First Impressions Read Free

Trainer’s boy as predicted, but she was back now.
    â€œStu never changes,” Donna said when she was alone with Shane again. “Remember in high school when we were sophomores and he was a senior, captain of the football team and the best-looking hunk in a sweaty jersey?”
    â€œAnd nothing much upstairs,” Shane added dryly.
    â€œYou always did go for the intellectual type. Hey,” she continued before Shane could retort, “I might just have one for you.”
    â€œHave one what?”
    â€œAn intellectual. At least that’s how he strikes me. He’s your neighbor too,” she added with a growing smile.
    â€œ
My
neighbor?”
    â€œHe bought the old Farley place. Moved in early last week.”
    â€œThe Farley place?” Shane’s brows arched, giving Donna the satisfaction of knowing she was announcing fresh news. “The house was all but gutted by the fire. Who’d be fool enough to buy that ramshackle barn of a place?”
    â€œVance Banning,” Donna told her. “He’s from Washington, D.C.”
    After considering the implications of this, Shane shrugged. “Well, I suppose it’s a choice piece of land even if the house should be condemned.” Wandering to a shelf, she selected a pound can of coffee then set it on the counter without checking the price. “I guess he bought it for a tax shelter or something.”
    â€œI don’t think so.” Donna rang up the coffee and waited while Shane dug bills out of her back pocket. “He’s fixing it up.”
    â€œThe courageous type.” Absently, she pocketed the loose change.
    â€œAll by himself too,” Donna added, fussing with the display of candy bars on the counter. “I don’t think he has a lot of money to spare. No job.”
    â€œOh.” Shane’s sympathies were immediately aroused. The spreading problem of unemployment could hit anyone, she knew. Just the year before, the teaching staff at her school had been cut by three percent.
    â€œI heard he’s pretty handy though,” Donna went on. “Archie Moler went by there a few days ago to take him some lumber. He said he’s already replaced the old porch. But the guy’s got practically no furniture. Boxes of books, but not much else.” Shane was already wondering what she could spare from her own collection. She had a few extra chairs . . . “And,” Donna added warmly, “he’s wonderful to look at.”
    â€œYou’re a married woman,” Shane reminded her, clucking her tongue.
    â€œI still like to look. He’s tall.” Donna sighed. At five foot eight, she appreciated tall men. “And dark with a sort of lived-in face. You know, creases, lots of bone. And shoulders.”
    â€œYou always did go for shoulders.”
    Donna only grinned. “He’s a little lean for my taste, but the face makes up for it. He keeps to himself, hardly says a word.”
    â€œIt’s hard being a stranger.” She spoke from her own experience. “And being out of work too. What do you think—”
    Her question was cut off by the jingle of bells. Glancing over, Shane forgot what she had been about to ask.
    He was tall, as Donna had said. In the few seconds they stared at each other, Shane absorbed every aspect of his physical appearance. Lean, yes, but his shoulders were broad, and the arms exposed by the rolled-up shirtsleeves were corded with muscle. His face was tanned, and it narrowed down to a trim, clipped jaw. Thick and straight, his black hair fell carelessly over a high forehead.
    His mouth was beautiful. It was full and sharply sculpted, but she knew instinctively it could be cruel. And his eyes, a clear deep blue, were cool. She was certain they could turn to ice. She wouldn’t have called it a lived-in face, but a remote one. There was an air of arrogant distance about him. Aloofness seemed to vie with an inner