"Roberts, Nora - Private Scandals" - читать интересную книгу автора (Roberts Nora)

moment I saw it. And when I see something I want ..." He trailed a finger up the side of her throat, feather light, while
his eyes stayed on hers. "I do what I can to have it."
Her pulse jumped like a rabbit, surprising her, annoying her. They were standing toe to toe now, their eyes and
mouths lined up. And too close, just an inch too close, so that she could see herself reflected in the dreamy blue of his
eyes.
"Sometimes what we want is unavailable." "Sometimes." He smiled, and she forgot the crowd pressing them
together, the coveted painting at her back, the voice in her head telling her to back away. "A good reporter has to
know when to move fast and when to be patient. Don't you think?"
"Yes." But she was having a hard time thinking at all. It was his eyes, she realized, the way they focused as if there
were nothing and no one else. And she knew, somehow, that he would continue to look at her just that way, even if
the ground suddenly fell away beneath her.
"Want me to be patient, Deanna?" His finger roamed over her jawline, lingered.
"I--" The air backed up in her lungs. And for a moment, one startled moment, she felt herself swaying toward him.
"Oh, I see you found refreshments already," Marshall said.
She saw the wry amusement on Finn's face. "Yes, Marshall." Her voice was unsteady. Fighting to level it, she
gripped his arm as though he were a rock in the stormy sea. "I ran into Finn. I don't think you've met. Dr. Marshall
Pike, Finn Riley."
"Of course. I know your work." Marshall offered a hand. "Welcome back to Chicago."
"Thanks. You're a psychologist, right?"



"Yes. I specialize in domestic counseling."
"Interesting work. The statistics seem to point to the end of the traditional family, yet the overall trend, if you look at
advertising, entertainment, seems to be making a move back to just that."
Deanna looked for a barb, but found nothing but genuine interest as Finn drew Marshall into a discussion on
American family culture. It was the reporter in him, she imagined, that made it possible for him to talk to anyone at any
time on any subject. At the moment, she was grateful.
It comforted her to have her hand tucked into Marshall's, to feel that she could be, if she chose, part of a couple. She
preferred, overwhelmingly, Marshall's gentle romancing to Finn's direct assault on the nervous system. If she had to
compare the two men, which she assured herself she certainly didn't, she would have given Marshall top points for
courtesy, respect and stability.
She smiled up at him even as her eyes were drawn back to the dramatic and passionate painting.
When Fran and Richard joined them, Deanna made introductions. A few minutes of small talk, and they said their
goodbyes. Deanna tried to pretend she didn't feel Finn's eyes on her as they nudged their way to the door.
"Be still my heart," Fran muttered in Deanna's ear. "He's even sexier in person than he is on the tube."
"You think so?"
"Honey, if I was unmarried and unpregnant, I'd do a lot more than think." Fran shot one last look over her shoulder.
"Yum-yum."
Chuckling, Deanna gave her a light shove out the door. "Get a hold of yourself, Myers."
"Fantasies are harmless, Dee, I keep telling you. And if he'd been looking at me the way he was looking at you, I'd
have been a puddle of hormones at his feet."
Deanna combated the jitters in her stomach with a brisk gulp of spring air. "I don't melt that easily."

Not melting easily, Deanna thought later, was part of the problem. When Marshall pulled his car to the



curb in front of her building, she knew that he would walk her up. And when he walked her up, he would expect to be
invited inside. And then ...