One Kiss In… Miami. Katherine GarberaЧитать онлайн книгу.
love and it’s not temporary?”
Pretorius narrowed his eyes. “You think she’s the only one who’ll fall in love? Not the both of you?”
Justice knew better than to expect that. He doubted he was capable of love any longer. “Just her,” he confirmed.
“In that case, I like my dinner served at six.”
Justice St. John.
Daisy Marcellus stopped dead in her tracks the instant she caught sight of the familiar name centered on the Coronation Hotel’s advertisement placard. Late-afternoon sunlight cascaded across the stunning black-and-white photo of him, threatening to bring her to her knees. Her bright fuchsia carryall slipped from her grasp and tumbled to the floor, pens and stickers and trinkets for toddlers spilling at her feet.
It was him.
Granted, a much different him than the one she’d known a full decade ago. This man appeared harder, far fiercer than the version she’d known. Oh, his eyes were the same, betraying that heartbreaking wariness she remembered so vividly, like an animal constantly on the alert for danger. But that wariness seemed more intense now, and shaded with cynicism.
She studied each line of the revealing photograph, searching for other changes and finding them all too easily. Time had weathered creases into strong masculine features, the deepest ones bracketing a mouth set in far too severe a line. He’d acquired a grim edge over the years, a hardness that she could only hope was at the instigation of the photographer for overall effect, rather than a true reflection of the man.
Despite the worrisome changes, desire vied with a bottomless longing, while desperate joy cascaded through her. She reached out to trace his image, a shaky smile slipping across her face. After all these years, they’d found each other again. Well, okay. So they hadn’t found each other. She had found him. But what did that matter?
Would he be equally delighted to see her? Would he even remember her? Considering how much she’d changed, possibly not. But she remembered him, and she also remembered every incredible summery moment of those short three months they’d spent together. She laughed out loud, drawing attention to herself. Not that she cared. Not when today meant she’d get to see Justice again.
Daisy stooped and shoved her belongings back into her carryall while she read the information on the placard. It would seem Justice had made a name for himself in the engineering world. Well, good for him. Even better, in just five short minutes his keynote speech would start. Excellent. She had nothing else scheduled for this late in the afternoon. Surely no one would object if she crashed the party, considering she and Justice were old friends—not to mention old lovers.
In fact, he’d been her first lover, the most special of them all, and she’d never forgotten him. Never known a love as wonderful or carefree as what she’d shared with him. Never found a man who quite equaled him. Generous. Patient. Kind. Someone who embraced life despite the turmoil of his past. Oh, she couldn’t wait to see him again!
A pair of men stood outside the conference room, checking the badges the attendees all wore before allowing them entry. She waited until they were distracted to slip past and into the jam-packed room. People already lined the back wall, having given up on finding a vacant seat. Others milled in the aisles. Finally, she spotted an empty spot near the front row. She didn’t really want to sit that close to the stage, but she’d feel even more uncomfortable standing in the back with the masses of engineers when she considered herself as far from being one of them as a butterfly was from a calculator.
For one thing, she’d dressed for a book signing, not a conference. Most of the attendees wore suits and ties, though she considered it a more casual, absentminded professor version than strict Wall Street “businessman” attire. Her breezy slacks and blousy red shirt—perfect for autographing children’s storybooks—might as well have come with a sign that said: Alien being here. Give her the hairy eyeball until she makes a break for it.
For another, she hadn’t understood a single word anyone had spoken since she walked into the place. She’d overheard any number of conversations, but she didn’t understand Basic Geek, even though once upon a time Justice had attempted to teach her.
And finally, with the exception of a few women, the place reeked of testosterone. Not that she had anything against testosterone, but the sheer overwhelming number of men made her feel like a plump pigeon dropped among a roomful of cats.
Slipping into the vacant seat, she smiled at the men on either side of her. They didn’t smile back. Instead they seemed to dissect her with their gaze, and not in a sexual way. It was almost as though she represented an equation they couldn’t solve. And maybe she did.
Right when she was on the verge of bolting, the lights dimmed and a portly man approached the podium. Whispered comments filtered through the room while everyone settled into their seats. The man didn’t waste any time, but got right to his introduction of Justice St. John. He ran through an impressive list of credentials and accomplishments, told a brief, dry story that, based on the chuckles peppering the auditorium, was meant to be funny. Maybe it was an engineering thing, but she didn’t get it. Finished, he stepped aside and glanced expectantly toward the left side of the stage.
Silence drenched the auditorium and people strained forward, watching eagerly for the keynote speaker. And then he appeared, sweeping across the stage with a feline grace that she remembered from their youth. Memories crashed over her. That day he’d stepped into her parents’ home, a feral panther waiting to attack or be attacked. The lines he’d drawn to keep himself neatly boxed in and everyone else boxed out. “Respect the line,” he’d ordered. A line she’d taken such delight in pushing. Erasing. Redrawing. The amazing night at the lake where their clothes had slipped away and their bodies had melded with such perfection. That blissful innocence that had tumbled into passionate knowledge.
Justice’s gaze brushed the audience with impatient disdain and then he launched into incomprehensible Engineering Geek, which was clearly several levels up from Basic Geek. Despite understanding only one word in twenty, the deep, rough tones of his voice held her as mesmerized as everyone else in the audience.
He’d changed in the years since they’d last been together, changed beyond belief. But then, so had she. Would she have recognized him if they’d passed on the street? She frowned. Possibly. If she looked hard she could just make out the boy overwhelmed by the man he’d become.
“Why didn’t I think of that?” the man beside her muttered. A whisper of consensus swept around him.
“Think of what?” Daisy asked.
The man turned to look at her, outrage flashing behind thick glasses. “His suggestions for future inventions. Weren’t you listening?”
“Not really,” she admitted. “I was too preoccupied looking.” A few snickers greeted her comment.
“I swear, when it comes to creating robotic sensors and actuators St. John is the best on the planet,” an awestruck whisper came from the row in front of her.
“Especially robotics in relationship to autonomous cooperation with humans,” an answering mutter drifted from behind, one equally awestruck.
Interesting. She returned her attention to Justice … and her self-appointed task of looking. She hadn’t a clue what all that meant, but color her impressed if he was considered the best on the entire planet. But at what cost? She studied him more carefully.
His features were harder and more defined than they’d been at eighteen. Okay, nearly eighteen. Seriously, what difference did a few weeks make? His eyes were still that dangerous blaze of tawny gold, just like a jungle cat. His hair stopped a shade shy of ebony, the texture rich and dark. He wore it nearly as long now as he did all those years ago, as though far more weighty matters occupied his mind than something so insignificant as getting a haircut. He’d disdained wearing a suit and settled instead on a black shirt and slacks which seemed to swallow all the light on the stage leaving him shrouded in shadows.
He was Hades escaped from the Underworld