Judgement By Fire Read Online Free PDF Page B

walk in all kinds of terrain— an ability honed by her frequent
all-weather forays into the woods with her camera. But tonight, with her mind
still on the man behind her, she trod unwarily on a patch of ice left-over from
the previous day’s ice-storm. Her feet went from under her and she landed with
a sickening, breath-destroying slam on her back on the road.
    The fall did
little more than wind her, but it certainly hurt her pride and her cheeks were
red as, in a few long strides, the blond stranger was at her side and gently
helping her to her feet.
    “Thank you,
thank you—no, I’m all right, really,” she assured him in answer to his worried
query. “I guess that’s what happens when you’re not paying attention. My mind
was elsewhere and then my feet went their own way, too.” Lauren smiled up at
him, hoping she didn’t sound quite as foolish as she suspected she did.
    * * *
    But Jon Rush,
looking down at her, hearing her rich, low voice, surprisingly deep for a
woman, and feeling the warmth and womanly strength of her through the thick
parka, could think of nothing but that he’d like her to go on talking, like to
go on standing there listening to her, for quite some time.
    Then he
realized that he was still holding her even though she was obviously steady on
her feet again and the time to do so courteously had long past, and he quickly
let go, turning practical to cover his own embarrassed confusion.
    “Look, it
really is slippery, and you must be tired from the meeting. Why don’t I give
you a ride home?”
    He saw her
hesitate, knowing that such a suggestion from a stranger was enough to make
many women run a mile these days—and that too often, their fears were
justified. Then she looked right into his eyes, smiled that star bright smile
again, and nodded.
    But, as she
settled herself beside him in the big vehicle, she seemed to wonder if she
wasn’t making the classic mistake. “My mother always told me not to accept
rides from strangers,” she told him, half-joking but also testing his reaction.
    “My name’s
Jon. You’re Lauren—I remember from the meeting. Now that we’re not strangers,
do you feel more comfortable? Your mother was right about strange men, but I
promise you, my intentions are entirely honorable,” he said, even though his
body was telling him otherwise with great insistence.
    “Okay, Jon,
pleased to meet you. That’s my turn, right there, it’s a back laneway into the
Haverford Castle grounds, then it’s the first cottage on the left.” Her
half-smile seemed to reach deep inside him.
    Moments later,
the Jeep passed through ornate stone gateposts and Jon pulled to a stop in
front of Lauren’s small restored farm laborer’s cottage. They sat in silence
for a moment until Lauren, lost for anything else to say, thanked him for
helping her after the fall and for the ride home, then moved to get out of the
Jeep.
    * * *
    She was a
little startled when he also got out and came around to help her, but somehow
his firm hand on her arm seemed so natural that she happily let him escort her
to the big oak front door.
    The snow
scrunched beneath their feet, and the world around them glittered in the late
evening frost that silvered the bush round the road and turned the ground into
brittle ridges. He took her arm again with natural ease to help her over a
particularly icy patch, so naturally that Lauren didn’t find it at all odd that
he was still holding her when they arrived at her door.
    In the glimmer
from the heavy brass carriage lamp set into the rough stone lintel, she got a
better view of her companion. A few years older than her own 28 years, she
guessed, and her early impression of height and breadth of shoulder were
confirmed as she stood beside him.
    A serious
face, its fine-boned structure eased by the suggestion of laugh lines around
his mouth and eyes, those wonderful shadowed eyes, which now regarded her
intently. His gaze seemed to drink her in, searching her