"TXT - Nora Roberts - Dream 03 - Finding The Dream" - читать интересную книгу автора (Roberts Nora)

miss my annoying little sister."

"I'll do my best to annoy you, as often as possible." She opened the
box, sighed, and forgot everything else. "From Peter," she murmured.

Josh set his teeth. It wouldn't be fair to say that she was already
annoying him in her choice of men. "Some guys think single roses are
classy."

"I'd rather have dozens," Margo stated. And her eyes met Josh's in
perfect agreement and understanding.

"It's lovely," Laura murmured as she slipped it into the vase with its
mate. "Just like the one he sent this morning."

* * *

By nine, Templeton House was overflowing with people and sound. Groups
of guests spilled out of brightly lit rooms onto heated terraces. Others
wandered the gardens, strolling down bricked paths to admire the blooms
and the fountains, all lit by the white ball of a winter's moon and the
charm of fairy lights.

Margo had been right. The night was clear, a black sky stabbed by
countless diamond-bright stars. Under it Templeton House stood awash in
lights.

The music pulsed, inviting couples to dance. Huge tables elegantly clad
in white linen groaned under the weight of food prepared by a fleet of
caterers. Waiters trained by Templeton Hotels standards wandered
discreetly among the guests, carrying silver trays filled with flutes of
champagne and tiny delicacies for sampling. Half a dozen open bars were
set up to serve mixed or soft drinks.

Steam rose off the swimming pool in misty fingers, while dozens of white
water lilies floated on the surface. On terraces, under silky awnings,
over the lawns, dozens of tables were draped in white linen, centered
with a trio of white tapers ringed by glossy gardenias.

Indoors, there were more waiters, more food, more music, more flowers
for those who wanted the warmth and relative quiet. Two uniformed maids
upstairs stood ready to assist any lady who might wish to freshen up or
fix a hem.

No reception ever held at any Templeton hotel around the world was more
carefully planned or executed than the celebration of Laura Templeton's
eighteenth birthday.

She would never forget that night, the way the lights flashed and
glowed, the way the music seemed to fill the air, mating with the scent