Christopher's Medal Read Online Free PDF Page B

think I passed the test?” he asked.
    Grace unlocked the door and led him into the kitchen. Rain whispered against the windows. “Oh, I should think so. Otherwise he wouldn’t have let us go. He would’ve had you talking and he would’ve been giving you the third degree. I think the General has probably talked the good talk.”
    “He’s not terribly subtle.”
    “Perhaps not, but I’m glad he brought you here.”
    Did I just say that? Jesus, Grace.
    Christopher smiled. “So am I.” He caught her hand and raised it to his lips.
    Grace shivered at his touch and wished they could skip dinner.
    * * * *
    The maître d’ showed them to a table beside the garden room window. Christopher held Grace’s chair out for her, then after the maître d’ left them, shifted his chair closer to hers, so that they both faced the garden. His leg brushed hers and Grace bit her lip. She let her leg remain next to his, feeling the warmth of him.
    “This is a nice place.”
    “It is. I haven’t been here for ages.”
    “It has steak.” Christopher grinned. “I approve.”
    “No prize for guessing what you’re having then.”
    “Shall we share a starter?”
    Grace wanted to share a lot more than just an appetizer. It was a start. “That would be nice.” She shivered when his foot drifted across hers.
    “What would you recommend?”
    “The pâté’s nice.” She let her foot glide over his ankle and down to his toes.
    “That works for me.” Christopher gave her a half smile. His eyes had a gleam in them that had nothing to do with the flickering candle. “I like sharing.”
    “So do I.” Grace smiled back at him, holding his gaze. She wanted him to take her hand again.
    The waitress came, took their orders then returned with their drinks. Grace was grateful to take a sip of gin and tonic. Rain quickened against the conservatory windows and the tables were golden pools of light in the soft, gray gloom.
    “Nice weather, this. I like the rain.”
    “It’s nice when you’re not riding out in it. It’s better for staying inside and watching a good film.”
    “And other things.” Christopher touched his glass to hers. “Here’s to other things.” His foot was on the move once more, grazing her calf with an easy, languid caress.
    Good lord.
    “Other things, like what?” Grace edged her hand closer to where his rested on the table.
    He grinned. “Oh, you know, listening to music, reading the Bible, meditating, yoga.”
    “Fibber.”
    “All right, so I lied about the Bible and things, but I like listening to music and I like watching films too.” He took a roll from the breadbasket.
    Grace watched him pull the roll in half with long fingers. “What kind of films?”
    “Oh, this and that, a bit of adventure, a bit of comedy, even some girly films.”
    Grace raised her eyebrow. “Really?”
    “Really. Just because I’m a soldier doesn’t mean I don’t like chick flicks.” He grinned. “After all, Sandra Bullock, Meg Ryan, Julia Roberts…nice. Just don’t tell anyone, please?” His eyes glittered in the flickering candlelight.
    “I promise I won’t.” She rested her chin on her hand and smiled at him.
    He echoed her gesture. “Do you have a dirty secret, movie-wise?”
    “Only that I’m usually so tired I almost always fall asleep before the end.”
    “That’s sad.” His other hand sought hers, his thumb sweeping across her knuckles. “So there’s no point in taking you to the cinema then?”
    “Not unless you want me snoring and dribbling on your shoulder, no. Save your money.”
    Grace was almost sorry when the starter arrived. She pushed the plate between them and took a piece of toast. The scent of herbs rose from the pâté when she spread it across the toast. “Here you are.” She held out her offering.
    He took it and held it to her lips. “You first.”
    Grace took a cautious bite, aware that Christopher watched her rather than eating his share.
    “It’s very nice.” She dabbed