A Bridge to Dreams Read Online Free PDF Page B

course spread out in front of him. Her VW’s aged engine had never permitted speeds this fast, even had Karyn been tempted to try attaining them. Karyn clutched at the edge of the seat with fingers that were rigid with fear. The wind whipped through her short black hair and lashed color into her pale cheeks. Her heart beat wildly. She’d hoped for a few thrills, not this death-defying race around impossible curves.
    She wasn’t certain of the precise moment when exhilaration replaced panic. Perhaps it was when Brad clasped her hand in his and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Perhaps it was the instant when she caught the glimmer of excitement in his eyes, heard the low rumble of his laughter as they crested an incredibly steep hill.
    Most likely, though, the evolution took place whenshe learned to trust, when she realized that he knew exactly what he was doing and precisely how far he could push the car. By the time they reached the waterfront, her eyes were sparkling with delight and her pulse raced with the wind. Never had she witnessed such an incredible blending of man and machine. Her car had become an extension of Brad, subject to his whims, mastered by his skill and daring.
    â€œYou’ve just tripled the difficulty of impressing me with this walk,” she warned as they got out of the car. Her pulse was finally settling into a more comfortable, sedate rhythm.
    Brad smiled with serene confidence as he led her along the street. When she realized where they were headed, she regarded him in amazement.
    â€œThe Golden Gate?”
    â€œCan you think of a more appropriate place to begin a San Francisco vacation?”
    â€œMost people simply drive across it or look at it from one of those little tour boats in the Bay.”
    â€œYou and I are not most people. We are adventurers,” he reminded her.
    â€œRight,” she said. There was more hope than conviction in her voice as she studied the magnificent span that linked San Francisco and Marin County.
    â€œDid you know that on the day this bridge opened in 1937, two hundred thousand people walked across it and that they paid a nickel for the privilege?”
    â€œIt must have been crowded,” she observed as she stared up at the art deco towers disappearing into the fog. The steep cliffs of Sausalito weren’t yet visible in the dawning daylight.
    Brad ignored her unimaginative observation. He took her hand and tugged her along. He rattled off a steady stream of historical tidbits about the bridge. Her favorite was about the Englishman who’d proclaimed himself monarch during the Gold Rush era and declared that such a bridge should be built.
    â€œI thought you were down in L.A. cleaning off your desk. Obviously you spent the past week studying some encyclopedia,” she said.
    â€œTravel brochures and guide books,” he corrected. “You keep forgetting we’re on vacation. Lesson one—a vacation is always enhanced if you do your homework.”
    â€œI’ll try to remember that,” she said solemnly.
    â€œIt’ll come with practice.”
    Karyn wondered if she’d ever have enough travel experience to make any trip and its planning seem routine.
    As if he’d sensed her discouragement, Brad said, “You’ll see. I promise. Now, let’s hurry. We don’t want to miss this.”
    As they reached the middle of the bridge, he drew her close to his side and gestured around them. Karyn was so absorbed by the newness of having Brad’s arm around her waist, she was hardly aware of their surroundings. As his hand settled lightly on her hip, she found she was holding her breath as her body accustomed itself to the excitement of his touch. Not one of those rare dates she’d permitted herself during the demanding schedules she’d had in high school and college had prepared her for the sensual possibilities of the right man’s touch.
    â€œNow wasn’t this worth getting up