Garden of the Moongate Read Free

Lynn gave her a parting grin.
    After passing through the security check, Allendre hurried across gate seven's boarding lounge just in time to hear the last call for her flight. After all her eagerness, she had nearly missed the plane, and she was mentally chastising herself for not being better organized when a beautiful, raven-haired flight attendant glanced at her ticket envelope.
    "Forward, through the curtain. Straight down the aisle. Seat Six-J." The beauty lazily lifted one finger to point out the way. "By the window."
    Allendre came to an abrupt halt in the center of the aisle before she reached her seat and stared dismally at the man sitting in Seat Six-I, right next to her own assigned place. "This is
definitely
not my lucky day," she muttered disbelievingly to herself before taking a reluctant step forward. She nervously cleared her throat, preparing herself for the insult of an icy stare. But as the blue-gray eyes swept slowly over the length of her slender body up to her flushed face she was instead astonished to hear a short, deep-throated laugh.
    Shaking his head, the man raked his long fingers through the dark thickness of his hair. "Don't tell me. You're Six-J?" When she nodded with a weakly apologetic smile, he lifted himself out of his aisle seat with languid grace. "Sit down, then. Just let me get my feet out of your way."
    Suddenly, he seemed to be making much too much out of a few unfortunate encounters. Eyes flashing, Allendre flounced past him, subsiding with a huff in the window seat. And when he lowered himself down beside her, stretching his long legs out in front of him as much as possible in the cramped space, she lifted her chin and glared at him indignantly. "Maybe if your feet weren't as big as gunboats, they wouldn't be continually getting in
my
way," she suggested stiffly.
    "You're the only person who seems to have trouble with them," he replied, then added, in a patronizing tone, "But I'm a fair-minded man, so I'll give your suggestion careful consideration."
    Since Allendre had expected her insult to elicit a flare-up of temper, his more subtle put-down confused her considerably. She turned away from him, opening her tote bag and feigning a great interest in its contents.
    During the twenty minutes following takeoff, Allendre acted as if she were completely uninterested in the man seated next to her. When she was sure he wouldn't notice, she occasionally glanced his way, examining him out of the corner of her eye.
    Thirty or so, dressed in unmistakably expensive clothes, he impressed her as being the typical up-and-coming young executive. She watched him thumb through the papers from his briefcase, seemingly enthralled by his work. He was one of those willing slaves to his career, she decided, and, dismissing him as an ill-tempered workaholic, she took a paperback book from her purse and began to read.
    Allendre's concentration, however, was almost immediately disturbed by a sultry feminine voice.
    "Why, Ric, darling, it's been ages, hasn't it?" the raven-haired stewardess cooed, leaning over the man in seat Six-I. "I still fly this route quite often, and I haven't seen you in two or three years. But I must admit I do think about you a lot."
    "It's nice seeing you again, Judy," Ric responded; his answering smile etched attractive lines in his lean cheeks and gentled his finely chiseled features. "It has been a long time. And if I remember correctly, the last time I made the trip you told me you were about to be married, didn't you?"
    Judy giggled. "I did, and I was. And it's all over already. Art and I divorced last year, so I'm free again," she declared, her amber eyes issuing a blatant invitation, then drifting down to examine his tan left hand. "And I see you've managed to avoid tying yourself down with one little woman, so you're free, too. Right? And how long will you be staying in Bermuda?"
    "I'm not sure," he answered, loosening his wine-colored tie and unbuttoning his pin-striped