Last Chance at Love Read Online Free PDF Page A

and took the call.
    “Don’t forget that our flight leaves at eight tomorrow morning, Allison. We might as well use first names. I’m called Jake. As I was saying, please be on time. I have a ten o’clock appointment, and I don’t want to miss that plane.”
    As soon as her heartbeat returned to normal, she summoned her most professional demeanor. “Mr. Covington, I’m assuming that you don’t make these statements because you want to rile me, but because you’re deficient in the art of conversation. I will be on time, dear, and I will wash behind my ears before I leave home.” His uproarious laughter cooled her temper, and she vowed not to react negatively to every one of his incautious remarks.
    “Did anybody ever try to blunt that sharp tongue of yours?”
    “Now, you...” she began, remembered her counsel of seconds earlier, and stopped. “Jake, do you think we automatically rub each other the wrong way?”
    That deep, dark, sexy laugh again. “I think we rub each other, but I’d be the last one to suggest it’s the wrong way. Rubbing with you gives me a good feeling.”
    “Well, it irritates me,” she huffed.
    “In what way? I’d be happy to soothe whatever I irritate. Just let me know what I’ve...uh...inflamed, and I’ll gladly cool it off.” His laugher caressed her. Warmed her. If she didn’t watch out, she could find herself enamored of... Was she out of her mind?
    “I don’t suppose it has occurred to you that you can keep your thoughts to yourself.”
    “It has, but doing that wouldn’t be fun.”
    She could imagine that a grin covered his face. “You’re not going to tease me into letting you trap me with innuendos. I’m onto you. Aren’t you ever serious?”
    “I’m always serious,” he shot back, “but I’m not a rash man. If I told you in plain English what’s on my mind, I could damage our relationship. I don’t want that.”
    She wondered if her nerves would riot. After that comment, he might as well dump it out, but she refrained from saying it. “Thanks for being circumspect,” she replied instead, and she did appreciate it. “Having to suffer my boss’s coarseness is a big enough price for getting ahead in this business.”
    “I can well imagine that. See you at eight in the morning.” As though he’d received an unpleasant reminder, his manner changed when she mentioned Bill Jenkins. Who could blame him? She told him goodbye, dressed quickly, and made her way to Mother’s Rest.
    * * *
    Allison took Leda from the nurse, looked into the child’s sad face, and told herself that, if she were ever fortunate enough to have one of her own, she’d love it so much that it would bubble with joy all the time.
    “Leda,” she cooed to the solemn little girl, “smile for me.” She sang “Summertime” and was rewarded with the baby’s rapt attention. She cuddled Leda to her breast and paced the colorful, well-lighted room, singing as she did so. Leda quickly learned that a smile brought another chorus and, when the two hours had passed, Allison surmised that she had sung the famous song well over a dozen times. The nurses let her stay beyond the allotted two hours because the child fretted when she attempted to leave. Finally she managed to sing her to sleep, but for the first time, pangs of separation after leaving one of the children tore at her, and she vowed to have some of her own. But when?
    She got home, saw the house’s dark windows, and realized she’d forgotten to set her automatic timer. She searched for the small flashlight that she always carried in her pocketbook, found it, and opened the door.
    After sleeping fitfully that night, she arose before daylight, dressed in leisure, and stood leaning against the check-in counter for the Delta Air Lines Washington to New York flight when Jake Covington got there. Captivated, she watched him approach her, his gait loose and his stride lazy. Suggestive. He walked up to her and grinned. Then he winked.