In Your Embrace Read Online Free PDF Page B

deft fingers, Hannah twines her hair into a braid and lets it fall down the length of her back, then smiles at her reflection.  She has always thought her ivory oval face is a nice complement to her expressive hazel eyes.  Without makeup, the smattering of freckles along her nose can easily be seen, especially when she has been out in the sun too long.  Growing up in California, she was always embarrassed to be one of the few people who couldn’t manage a decent tan, but no matter how many hours she lay out, Hannah never achieved anything more than a painful shade of pink.
    Hannah knows she would never win a beauty contest, but she finds contentment in not being the center of attention.  Someday she will find a man who values the beauty of her heart rather than the curve of her figure.  Any man with other thoughts on his mind is not worth entertaining.
    Smoothing the wrinkles from her white eyelet top and capris pants, Hannah bounds down the stairs.  She smiles at the abundant array of family photos lining the wall. She can trace the steps of her childhood on a single wall.  From drooling toothless baby to high school graduate.   Soon to be college graduate, Hannah thinks with a dose of aged bitterness.
    Her sour thoughts fade as a savory smell wafts around the corner, drawing Hannah into the dining room.  Sniffing the air, she hurries to her seat just as Claire sets a basket of freshly baked store bought garlic bread before her.  “That smells heavenly.  Would you like any help?”
    “Of course not.  You’re our guest, and I won’t have you working any harder than you already are.”  Claire starts to head toward the kitchen but turns back, wagging her finger.  “Not a bite before dinner, missy.”
    The tails of Claire’s red and white striped apron flap behind her as she bustles back out of the room at the sound of clattering pans.  “I’m alright,” Andrew shouts.  “No need to panic.”
    “Is the spaghetti safe?” Hannah calls.
    Andrew pokes his head out of the swinging door that leads into the kitchen.  Several strands of pasta dangle over his forehead and ears.  “It’s still edible.”
    Hannah laughs and places her cloth napkin in her lap.  Usually Claire lights candles at the dinner table, but tonight she has settled for normal lighting from a few table lamps nearby.  Hannah can’t help but wonder if this is to savor the last few moments they may have of electricity before the storm hits sometime in the night.
    The temptation to snag a small bit of garlic bread forces Hannah to tuck her hands under her thighs.  It is a silly thing really, but she adores the playful banter that would arise should she give in to her rebellious desires.
    “Here we are.”  Hannah looks up to see Andrew pushing through the door with a steaming stock pot filled to the brim with water.  Claire playfully scolds him for being a bit excessive with the water but Andrew merely grins.  “A chef never takes advice from his patrons.”
    “Especially when they aren’t paying.” Hannah grins as Andrew places the pot on a large trivet before her.
    “Precisely,” he waves his tongs at her.  “See dear?  At least someone understands me.”
    Claire hides a smile behind her hand but is quickly discovered when her husband draws her hand into his own while reaching out for Hannah’s.  He smirks then bows his head and says the blessing, lingering a moment longer than usual to ask for protection for all of those who have remained in Rodanthe.
    The banter over dinner is as lighthearted as can be expected, but Hannah can feel the layer of tension in her aunt and uncle.  Though she is hardly a child, she can tell that they are trying to keep her from worrying.
    It’s not until desert is plated that Claire dives into a rather touchy subject.  “So...have you decided which law school you are going to apply to?”
    Hannah’s fork clatters to her plate.  She mutters an apology and sets it aside, wiping her