Forever Spring Read Online Free PDF Page B

tone of authority in Paul’s voice halted her abruptly at the base of the wide stairway. Not even in her tipsy state could Karen consider disobeying his arresting command.
    “Paul, please.” Turning her head slowly, carefully, for the room had suddenly begun to sway, Karen gave him a weary look. “I must lie down.”
    Paul rose as he set his own glass aside. “No, Karen.” He shook his head gently as he walked to her. “Chances are that if you sleep now you’ll wake up sick. What you need is some exercise in the fresh air.” “Exercise!” Karen moaned. “Fresh air! You mean—like outside?”
    “Yes.” Paul was not altogether successful in masking his amusement.
    “But it’s cold outside!”
    “You forgot ‘baby.’”
    “What?” Karen glowered at him.
    “Forget it.” His lips twitched. “You’ll need a coat, a warm one. Where would it be?”
    Still glowering, Karen motioned distractedly at the closet inside the front door. “There’s a navy peacoat in there somewhere.”
    Eyeing her narrowly, Paul reached for the closet door. “If you bolt for the stairs, I’ll catch you,” he warned, reading her intentions correctly. When her shoulders slumped in defeat, he turned to rummage inside the closet. He found the jacket on a hook near the back of the closet and a navy-blue knit cap on a shelf above the row of hooks.
    Tired, fuzzy and thoroughly cowed, Karen stood docilely while Paul buttoned her into the jacket and tugged the hat onto her head and over her ears. When he turned to steer her along the hall to the side door that led to the beach, she tilted her head to run a misty-eyed glance over his sweater. It was warm, but not warm enough.
    “What about you?” she muttered, stepping by him onto the veranda and immediately gasping at the chill wind that stole her breath. “Where’s your coat?” “Close at hand.” Grasping her upper arm, Paul descended the veranda steps and walked to the side of his car parked in the sandy driveway. Pulling the back door open, he withdrew a down-filled nylon ski jacket. “1 tossed this onto the back seat when it warmed up today about noon.”
    “I see.” She didn’t, of course. Karen didn’t see or understand anything. A frown tugging her delicate eyebrows together, she watched as he shrugged into the brown-and-white jacket. She began to move automatically when he started walking toward the beach. “Where were you coming from today?” she gasped, quick-stepping to keep up with his long stride. “And please slow down!”
    Paul shortened his gait at once and slanted an apologetic smile at her. “I’m sorry. What was your question?” His innocent tone didn’t fool her for a second. Karen was slightly tipsy—she wasn’t unconscious. “You heard.”
    His laughter was low, and too darned attractive. “I was coming from farther up the coast.” He hesitated, as if in silent debate about continuing. Then he shrugged. “I’d spent the past couple of weeks in the small place my son owns up there. I closed it for the winter this morning.”
    Paul released his hold on her and draped his arm around her shoulders as they approached a high sand dune. Plowing through the loose sand, they moved as one around the dune and down onto the more solidly packed sand on the beach.
    “And you’re heading for Philadelphia?” she asked, breathing a little easier as they attained firmer ground.
    “Yes.” He paused, bringing her to a stop as he stared out at the white-tipped, inky sea. “It’s time I went back to work.”
    “What kind of work do you do?” Following his lead, she turned when he did, feeling her low shoes sink into the moist sand as they strolled along, inches from the lapping wavelets.
    “I was a banker.”
    Karen was not surprised; Paul looked like a banker. “Was?” she prompted, growing less fuzzy as the brisk breeze dispersed the aftereffects of the wine.
    “We can talk about that later,” Paul said, a trifle imperiously. “I want to hear