"Roberts, Nora - A Matter of Choice" - читать интересную книгу автора (Roberts Nora)

considered that her business would outgrow her. When it had, she'd hired
Michael Adams to handle the overseas buying. He was charming, capable,
and knowledgeable. The women customers adored him. Gradually their
relationship had mellowed from business to friendship to easy affection.

As business had continued to thrive, Jessica had hired David Ryce. He'd
been hardly more than a boy, at loose ends, bored enough to find trouble
if it got in the way. Jessica had hired him because they'd grown up
together; then she had come to depend on him. He was quick with figures
and tireless with details. He had a streak of street sense that made him
a good man to have in business.

Street sense, Jessica mused. James Sladerman. Odd that the term would
bring him back to her mind. Even in that quick exchange at the foot of
the stairs, she'd felt something in him. It told her he was a man who
would know how to handle himself--in business, maybe. In an alley,
definitely. With a half laugh, she stuck her hands in her pockets. Now
why should she think that?

The fingers that had gripped her arm had been strong. His build had been
wiry. But no, it had been his eyes, she thought. There was something...
hard in his eyes. Yet she hadn't been repelled or frightened, but drawn.
Even when he'd looked at her for those first three or four seconds, with
that intensity that seemed to creep beneath her skin, she hadn't been
afraid. Safe, she realized. He'd made her feel safe. That was odd,
Jessica decided, catching her bottom lip between her teeth. Why should
she suddenly feel safe when she had no need for protection?

The door of the shop jingled open. Pushing speculation aside, Jessica
turned.

"Miss Winslow, I apologize. I'm very late."

"Don't give it a thought, Mr. Chambers." Jessica considered telling him
that she'd also been late, then decided against it. What he didn't know
wouldn't hurt him. Behind her, the kettle whistled. "I'm just making
tea. Why don't you join me before we look over the new snuffboxes?"

Chambers removed a rather fussy hat from a balding head. "Wonderful. I
do appreciate you calling me when you get a new shipment in." He smiled,
revealing good dentures.

"You don't think I'd let anyone see the snuffboxes before you." In the
kitchen Jessica poured boiling water into cups. "Michael found these in
France. There are two I think you'll be particularly interested in."

He preferred the ornate, Jessica thought with a smile as she lifted the
tray. He loved the foolishly gaudy little boxes that men with lace cuffs
used to carry. She glanced at Chambers' stubby form and wondered if he
pictured himself as a cavalier or perhaps a Regency buck. Still, his