Mind Over Matter: the classic story from the queen of romance that you won’t be able to put down. Нора Робертс
Читать онлайн книгу.couldn’t resist the smile. “We’re having meat loaf.” She took the bottle of champagne he held and examined the label. “This should help. Did you happen to have a big lunch?”
There was a light in her eyes he’d never noticed before. It was a laugh, a joke, and very appealing. “What are you getting at?”
She patted his shoulder. “Sometimes it’s best to go into these things unprepared. Sit down and I’ll fix you a drink.”
“Aurora.”
“Yes?” A.J. answered automatically before she bit her tongue.
“Aurora?” David repeated, experimenting with the way it sounded in his voice. “That’s what the A stands for?”
When A.J. turned to him her eyes were narrowed. “If just one person in the business calls me that, I’ll know exactly where they got it from. You’ll pay.”
He ran a finger down the side of his nose, but didn’t quite hide the smile. “I never heard a thing.”
“Aurora, was that—” Clarissa stopped in the kitchen doorway and beamed. “Yes, it was David. How lovely.” She studied both of them, standing shoulder to shoulder just inside her front door. For the instant she concentrated, the aura around them was very clear and very bright. “Yes, how lovely,” she repeated. “I’m so glad you came.”
“I appreciate your asking me.” Finding Clarissa as charming as he had the first time, David crossed to her. He took her hand, but this time brought it to his lips. Pleasure flushed her cheeks.
“Champagne, how nice. We’ll open it after I sign the contracts.” She glanced over his shoulder to see A.J. frowning. “Why don’t you fix yourself and David a drink, dear? I won’t be much longer.”
A.J. thought of the contracts in her portfolio, and of her own doubts. Then she gave in. Clarissa would do precisely what Clarissa wanted to do. In order to protect her, she had to stop fighting it and accept. “I can guarantee the vodka—I bought it myself.”
“Fine—on the rocks.” David waited while she went to a cabinet and took out a decanter and glasses.
“She remembered the ice,” A.J. said, surprised when she opened the brass bucket and found it full.
“You seem to know Clarissa very well.”
“I do.” A.J. poured two glasses, then turned. “She’s much more than simply a client to me, David. That’s why I’m concerned about this program.”
He walked to her to take the glass. Strange, he thought, you only noticed her scent when you stood close, very close. He wondered if she used such a light touch to draw men to her or to block their way. “Why the concern?”
If they were going to deal with each other, honesty might help. A.J. glanced toward the kitchen and kept her voice low. “Clarissa has a tendency to be very open with certain people. Too open. She can expose too much of herself, and leave herself vulnerable to all manner of complications.”
“Are you protecting her from me?” A.J. sipped from her drink. “I’m trying to decide if I should.”
“I like her.” He reached out to twine a lock of A.J.’s hair around his finger, before either of them realized his intention. He dropped his hand again so quickly she didn’t have the chance to demand it. “She’s a very likable woman,” David continued as he turned to wander around the room. He wasn’t a man to touch a business associate, especially one he barely knew, in so casual a manner. To give himself distance, he walked to the window to watch birds flutter around a feeder in the side yard. The cat was out there, he noticed, sublimely disinterested as it sunned itself in a last patch of sunlight.
A.J. waited until she was certain her voice would be properly calm and professional. “I appreciate that, but your project comes first, I imagine. You want a good show, and you’ll do whatever it takes to produce one.”
“That’s right.” The problem was, he decided, that she wasn’t as tailored and streamlined as she’d been the day before. Her blouse was soft and silky, the color of poppies. If she’d had a jacket to match the snug white skirt, she’d left it in her car. She was shoeless and her hair had been tossed by the wind. He took another drink. She still wasn’t his type. “But I don’t believe I have a reputation for exploiting people in order to get it. I do my job, A.J., and expect the same from anyone who works with me.”
“Fair enough.” She finished the unwanted drink. “My job is to protect Clarissa in every way.”
“I don’t see that we have a problem.”
“There now, everything’s ready.” Clarissa came out to see her guests not shoulder to shoulder, but with the entire room between them. Sensitive to mood, she felt the tension, confusion and distrust. Quite normal, she decided, for two stubborn, self-willed people on opposing ends. She wondered how long it would take them to admit attraction, let alone accept it. “I hope you’re both hungry.”
A.J. set down her empty glass with an easy smile. “David tells me he’s starved. You’ll have to give him an extra portion.”
“Wonderful.” Delighted, she led the way into the dining area. “I love to eat by candlelight, don’t you?” She had a pair of candles burning on the table, and another half-dozen tapers on the sideboard. A.J. decided the romantic light definitely helped the looks of the meat loaf. “Aurora brought the wine, so I’m sure it’s lovely. You pour, David, and I’ll serve.”
“It looks wonderful,” he told her, and wondered why A.J. muffled a chuckle.
“Thank you. Are you from California originally, David?” Clarissa asked as she handed A.J. a platter.
“No, Washington State.” He tipped Beaujolais into Clarissa’s glass.
“Beautiful country.” She handed Aurora a heaping bowl of mashed potatoes. “But so cold.”
He could remember the long, windy winters with some nostalgia. “I didn’t have any trouble acclimating to L.A.”
“I grew up in the East and came out here with my husband nearly thirty years ago. In the fall I’m still the tiniest bit homesick for Vermont. You haven’t taken any vegetables, Aurora. You know how I worry that you don’t eat properly.”
A.J. added brussels sprouts to her plate and hoped she’d be able to ignore them. “You should take a trip back this year,” A.J. told Clarissa. One bite of the meat loaf was enough. She reached for the wine.
“I think about it. Do you have any family, David?”
He’d just had his first experience with Clarissa’s cooking and hadn’t recovered. He wondered what recipe she’d come across that called for leather. “Excuse me?”
“Any family?”
“Yes.” He glanced at A.J. and saw the knowing smirk. “Two brothers and a sister scattered around Washington and Oregon.”
“I came from a big family myself. I thoroughly enjoyed my childhood.” Reaching out, she patted A.J.’s hand. “Aurora was an only child.”
With a laugh A.J. gave Clarissa’s hand a quick squeeze. “And I thoroughly enjoyed my childhood.” Because she saw David politely making his way through a hill of lumpy potatoes, she felt a little tug on her conscience. A.J. waited until it passed. “What made you choose documentaries, David?”
“I’d always been fascinated by little films.” Picking up the salt, he used it liberally. “With a documentary, the plot’s already there, but it’s up to you to come up with the angles, to find a way to present it to an audience and make them care while they’re being entertained.”
“Isn’t it more of a learning experience?”
“I’m not a teacher.” Bravely he dipped back into the meat loaf. “You can entertain with truth and speculation just