Moonlight on Monterey Bay Read Online Free PDF Page A

way. She stopped eating immediately.
    Sam saw her face fully now. He stared. Of course he knew her. The woman from the beach house, the beautiful woman who smelled of flowers and fresh air. The woman who had slipped into his thoughts at odd moments for some days now. He took a quick, deep breath.
    “You,” was all he said. Her hair hung loose across her shoulders, down her back, and framed her delicate features. A small hat with the brim flipped up in the front was pulled down on her head, holding her hair in place. Without it, he thought vaguely, her hair would fly about her incredible face like a flying angel’s, a spirit’s.
    Maddie held her sandwich in midair, wondering what thoughts could possibly be causing such activity in those incredibly deep blue eyes.
    Sam wondered if the heat had gotten to him. He wasn’t thinking clearly. She was sitting so close tohim, almost touching him, and he swore he could hear her heartbeat. “Hello, again,” he said finally, his voice nearly a growl.
    “You remember me, then?”
    “Of course I do.” Sam concentrated on his burger. “You’re the woman I found in my house.”
    “My name is Maddie Ames,” she said quietly.
    Sam nodded, as if approving her name. He willed away the incoherent feelings clouding his thoughts and concentrated on his association with Maddie Ames. Had Eleanor gotten hold of her, told her he was hiring someone else? He decided not to ask. “What are you doing here in San Jose?” he asked instead.
    Maddie flinched. Did he know? She took a sip of tea. “I’m here on business.”
    “Oh,” he said, nodding.
    “Do you eat here often?” Maddie asked.
    “No. This place looked fast. And you?”
    “Never before.” She flagged the waitress over and ordered a hot fudge sundae.
    Sam lifted one brow. He scanned her slender frame. There was no physical sign of the pregnancy, but her appetite was certainly telling. He vaguely remembered Elizabeth worrying about her appetite, trying desperately not to put on too much weight so that her perfect model’s figure would return as soon as the baby was born. Funny, he had played with images of Maddie Ames all the way home the night he’d met her, and in noneof them had she been married, much less pregnant.
    Maddie frowned. “Did I spill? What are you looking at?”
    “Sorry. No, I was thinking about your appetite, what pregnancy does to it.”
    “Pregnancy?” Maddie stared down at her dress. She flinched, remembering the feeling of pregnancy, then covered the unwelcome flash of sadness with a flippant toss of her head. “Pregnancy?” she repeated, looking up at him. “Mr. Eastland, you’re overflowing with charm and diplomacy.”
    “Excuse me?”
    “Some women might consider it an insult to be thought pregnant when they’re not. You know, the fat issue. You might want to watch that in the future.”
    “I’m sorry.” Again he half smiled. “I, well, I saw you earlier patting your stomach, and it looked as if you were talking to it. So I thought—but you don’t look pregnant at all. If anything, you’re too slender.”
    “You’re determined to insult me, aren’t you?” She laughed, a throaty laugh, and then went on to explain. “My stomach was begging for food. I was hushing it.” She smiled. He was such an in-charge kind of person, but for a brief moment he looked almost sheepish. Only for a minute, though, and then the frown came back, and the distance. “But I’m really not pregnant,” she said brightly.
    “Oh. Well, good.”
    Good? Maddie wondered. Why good? “And you’re forgiven for your social blunder. I can understand that my dress could be deceiving.” She turned slightly on the stool and looked at him, remembering why she had come to San Jose in the first place. Here she had Eastland right next to her, and she was wasting a golden opportunity. “Listen,” she said earnestly, “since I’ve revealed such intimacies about myself, it’s your turn. Tell me about you, Mr.