Eden Burning Read Online Free PDF Page B

Dane to react to a woman the way he did to Nicole. Open affection, pleasure, admiration. Full-on arousal couldn’t be far behind.
    If Chase had thought that shouting at his brother—or hammering sense into his thick head—would get through the testosterone blindness, he would already be shouting and hammering. But those direct approaches had never worked with Dane. Chase’s charming brother did things his own way, in his own time, and to hell with the rest of the world.
    Words wouldn’t get through to Dane. Action would. A very special kind of action. The kind that would prove to Dane that he didn’t know Nicole very well at all.
    “Does Nicole do anything but dance?” Chase asked after a moment.
    “Like what?”
    “Work for a living.”
    “There speaks a man who’s never tried Tahitian dancing,” Dane said. “If that isn’t work, what is? Didn’t you see Sam Chu Lin? He was sweating like ice in a sauna, and it wasn’t because he’s out of shape. Hell, if I had his muscles, I’d burn mine.”
    Chase made a sound that could have meant anything or nothing. His wintry glance roved the room restlessly, searching for a flash of fire and grace and supple female strength.
    Pele. Nicole. By either name, by any name, she was a woman to match the burning mountain.
    “Nicole is an artist,” Dane said.
    Hardly able to believe what he had just heard, Chase gave his brother a sidelong look. “Oh, yeah, right. That’s what all the exotic dancers say.”
    Dane fought a smile. “Could be, but I’ll bet they don’t strut their art in a bona fide gallery.”
    The arch of Chase’s left eyebrow rose in a silent question.
    “Didn’t I tell you?” Dane grinned. “Nicole does line drawings and watercolors that are accurate enough to illustrate scientific texts and original enough to be sold as art throughout the islands.”
    Chase signaled a passing server, pointed at the two empty beer bottles on the table, and returned his attention to Dane.
    “But don’t take my word for it,” Dane said dryly. “You’ll see for yourself. She’ll be working with you on your Islands of Life project.”
    “What are you talking about?”
    “You asked me to find an illustrator. I did. Nicole.”
    “She’s really capable of scientific illustration?” Chase asked in disbelief. Since the perfection of the thirty-five-millimeter camera, not to mention the newest digital models, few artists had the desire, the ability, or the control required for painstaking re-creations of nature such as Audubon had made famous.
    “Did you see the Volcano Portfolio the national park put out a year ago?” Dane asked.
    Chase nodded.
    “The illustrations were all Nicole’s.”
    “She’s that N. Ballard?” Chase asked before he could stop himself. The last thing he wanted to be was impressed.
    But he was.
    The amount of talent, drive, and discipline that were required for someone to perfect both a gift for drawing and the more physically challenging gift of dance was impressive. He remembered the drawings for the Volcano Portfolio. He had been struck by the artist’s ability to capture both the scientific facts of an erupting volcano and the more elusive emotional truth of a volcano’s awesome reality.
    A chill slowly condensed in Chase as he measured the clear pride and appreciation in his brother’s blue eyes while he talked about Nicole’s accomplishments. He sounded like a doting parent—or a man falling in love.
    Christ, Chase thought wearily. What chance does Jan stand against a woman like Nicole? Intelligence, artistry, and the kind of fire that burns a man to his soul.
    Pele incarnate.
    Hoping that he was wrong, afraid that he wasn’t, Chase began to question his brother in earnest about Nicole Ballard. Everything he heard made the chill inside him deepen.
    “She’s great with kids,” Dane said warmly, glad to see that his brother was finally really listening. “Takes them on long hikes nearly every weekend, back up to the