Snowed Read Free Page B

in. “Brrrr! It’s freezing out here.” She darted back into the ballroom and brushed the snow off her dress.
    Mike’s voice behind her was a dangerous growl. “Listen, you little tease
—
”
    “Mike! Where ya been, man?”
    Leah turned to see a skinny man wearing an expensive leather jacket and a surly expression. His significant other stood nearby, looking bored.
    “Hey! Tim, Wanda, what kept you?” Mike’s mood did an instantaneous about-face. “Want you to meet someone. This little Georgia peach here is Dorothy.”
    She sighed. “Leah Harmony.” At least Georgia peach was an improvement over cow pie.
    “Whatever.” Mike waylaid a waiter. “Grey Goose martini, extra dry, straight up, with a twist.” He turned back to his friends. “Leah here works for some catalog outfit, isn’t that right, babe?”
    “I own Harmony Grits, a mail-order company specializing in southern foods. Pleased to meet you.”
    “Yeah, hi.” Tim didn’t smile or shake the hand she offered. Wanda simply ignored her.
    Tim mumbled, “Got something for you, man.”
    “Uh...yeah.” Mike’s voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “Uh, listen, Dorothy, me and my friends, we’re gonna go take care of some business, know what I mean?” He tapped his nose and sniffed meaningfully. “Wanna join us? You country girls go in for that kind of thing?”
    “Listen, sugah, you go have yourself some fun. My taste runs more to home-brewed moonshine.”
    “`Home-brewed moonshine’! Love it!” he hooted. “Jest gotta keep it away from them revenoors, right?” He patted her cheek. “I’ll be back in a snort and a half, babe. Don’t go anywhere.”
    Leah was grateful for the respite, however brief. Her nerves were stretched to the breaking point. She’d been awake for forty hours, nervous anticipation having robbed her of sleep the night before. For hours she’d stared out the window of her twelfth-floor room in the Millennium Hotel near Times Square, oblivious to the glittering spectacle of Broadway stretched out below her.
    She’d flown up to New York from Little Rock three days earlier. Three days of angling to get within spitting distance
—
literally
—
of James Bradburn. Now she had only one goal: to make a quick getaway while avoiding both her escort and the disturbing guest of honor.
    She felt a hand on her arm and looked into Kara Greene’s warm brown eyes. The agent spoke sotto voce, woman to woman. “Look, hon, I don’t know you, you don’t know me, and maybe I’m sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong—but hey, when has that ever stopped me? Let me guess. You’re fresh off the turnip wagon from somewhere south of Wall Street, yes?”
    Leah laughed.
    “You just met that pig Mike Carleton, like, yesterday, am I right?” Kara didn’t wait for an answer. “I’m right. Trust me, hon. I mean, you seem like a nice girl
—
that’s why I’m saying this. Find another ride home. I’ll give you a lift back to the city myself. You hear what I’m saying? You don’t know the guy. I do.”
    Leah smiled. She liked Kara already. “No problem. I kind of figured that one out for myself.”
    “Good girl.” Kara squeezed her hand.
    “Kara, maybe you can clear something up for me. I thought Bradburn was
—
”
    Kara jerked her head toward something behind Leah. “Whatever it is, you can ask him yourself.”
    Leah whirled around and saw the object of her confusion closing in on them with long-legged strides. She swallowed hard.
    “Kara...dear, sweet Kara...” Bradburn’s voice was a deep rumble, his smile menacing. “You shouldn’t have.”
    Leah’s knees went weak with relief. Bradburn was practically on top of her, but his attention was directed at his agent. He wore a black wool turtleneck, faded blue jeans, and scuffed leather boots. His straight black hair was pushed back from his face and nearly grazed his shoulders. Leah was close enough to detect the warmth of his body and his clean, masculine