Ms. Miller and the Midas Man Read Online Free PDF

two women yesterday would know if he bit or not. Frankly, she didn’t care.
    Heavens, it was hot.
    Suddenly, they were singing again and whole chunks of the service were missing from her mind. She felt so distracted. He had his arm resting along the back of the pew behind her and was breathing down her neck as he sang.
    “Move your arm,” she said with tight lips. He wrapped it about her shoulders. “ Remove your arm.” He let it fall to the back of the pew again and continued singing. “People are looking at us.”
    “I know,” he said, close to her ear, his warm breath tickling her cheek. “They’re all thinking we’re a cute couple.”
    “Well, we’re not,” she said, turning her head to glare at him, finding herself nose to nose.
    “Not yet,” he said, his brown eyes soft, entrancing as a half-remembered tune, his lips a breath away, tempting her.
    She would have continued to sing the rest of the song, but she was just too flustered...no, too mad. She would have slapped him and stalked out of the church, but she was worried that making a scene would make things worse. She would have put her elbow through his ribs, but she was sure it would make him happy.
    She couldn’t honestly compliment Reverend Mutrux on his sermon that day. She found it incredibly long and tedious—and she couldn’t remember a single word of it. However, that didn’t mean she’d fallen asleep. She sang the final hymn with great verve, actually, anticipating the quick escape she had planned.
    Having spotted Dorothy Weise, Tylerville’s local Avon-Amway-Tupperware representative, across the aisle and two pews back it was a simple matter of timing her exit.
    “I want to apologize for yesterday,” he said while the last organ note still vibrated off the church walls, afraid she’d get away from him again before they could really talk. “I do know better than to distract children from their lessons. I’m sorry.”
    “You should be.” She was busy putting away the hymnal and gathering up her purse, and didn’t look at him—but she did appreciate his remorse. Perhaps his visit to church wasn’t a total loss. He did look very fine in his Sunday best. Scrubbed up nicely. Crisp. Clean. Sexy as hell.
    “I am,” he said, bending low to see her face. “I was wondering...I didn’t hear you playing last night...I...please don’t be so angry with me that you stop playing your violin,” he said in a rush. “I don’t know how we got off to a wrong start here, but I’m sure I’ve done something to offend you. If it’s the garbage thing?”
    Long personal discussions took a great deal of the casual out of the phrase “casual acquaintance.” What she did and how she felt were personal.
    “Mr. Ham—Scott,” she broke in.
    “My close friends call me Scotty.”
    “Please. I’d like to leave.”
    “Sure,” he said, backing out of the pew but blocking her exit. “I just wanted to apologize and to let you know I really like listening to you play. I mean, I’m sorry if I’m eavesdropping or...well, I’m not spying on you, really, it’s just that the windows are open and...I never knew a violin could sound like that.”
    “I’m glad it doesn’t irritate you. And believe me, I’ve overcome greater obstacles than you to play my violin. Excuse me, please?”
    “I noticed you walked here. Would you like a lift home? I happen to be going that way.”
    “No. But thanks,” she said, nudging him aside before her best chance got away. “Mrs. Weise. How are you?”
    Scotty knew Dorothy Weise and automatically panicked, his fight-or-flight instincts acute, until he noticed the glimmer in Gus’s eyes.
    “Low blow,” he muttered under his breath as the woman approached them. A giggle bubbled in her throat.
    “Augusta, dear, you look lovely this morning. And all you ever order is the twenty-four ounce Aroma Therapy Bubble Bath. It’s obviously working. Looking very refreshed and relaxed this morning.”
    “Thank you,”