Not the Marrying Kind (Destiny Bay Romances - Forever Yours) Read Online Free PDF

single chopstick, feeling very silly for her irrational fear. A psychologist should be above these things, she told herself. A psychologist should have her life under control. She'd thought she did. But maybe that was because she'd been swimming along in her own stream, unchallenged by any unusual currents. Looking into Michael's eyes, she thought she could see hints of a whole ocean of wild water waiting just beyond.
    “Come on,” he urged softly. “Be brave.”
    She flashed him a searing glance. “Bravery has nothing to do with it,” she lied. “I'm just not very hungry.” But she knew she couldn't get away with that much longer. Clutching both chopsticks in her hand, she gingerly picked up a thick slice and, holding her breath, nibbled at a few kernels of rice.
    “You were telling me about your crime,” she reminded him, hoping to take his mind off how she was coping with the food. Actually the rice wasn't half bad. She took another nibble, this time snagging a piece of plump shrimp and a dash of avocado. “Do you work for the police?”
    He shrugged. “Not exactly. I'm with the district attorney's office. And since I've just moved into this territory after five years in the Bay Area, the local police, except for Sam, didn't know who I was at first.”
    She realized she'd devoured the whole slice of California roll without a qualm. Her stomach hadn't made one protest. Even the delicate seaweed covering tasted good. Not sealike at all. She picked up a second slice and began work on it.
    Michael handled the wooden eating utensils with the same deft grace that seemed to come naturally to everything he did, Shelley noticed. She found herself watching him, studying little things, like the way the corners of his mouth seemed to tug into a smile almost against his will, and the way he narrowed his eyes when enjoying a special taste—or looking at her.
    It was true, she realized with a start. He was enjoying looking at her. She could see the telltale signs. Suddenly she found her own mouth curving into an unbidden smile as well. It had been so long since she'd noticed a man in this way—noticed him noticing her—she'd forgotten how nice it could feel.
    “What are you, then?” she challenged him. “An undercover agent, or what?”
    He glanced around the room with lazy chagrin. “Let’s not tell the world,” he reminded her softly as he put a cloth napkin to his lips and reached for his round teacup. “This is not a piece of information meant for public knowledge. In fact, Sam would probably have me fired just for telling you.”
    Her gaze met his sparkling blue eyes, and she knew it was a game to him; a big, funny, exciting game. And he was confident of winning every time. She couldn't help but laugh back at him.
    “But you know you can trust me,” she told him. “Right?”
    He chuckled aloud. “No, now that you mention it, I don't know anything of the kind. But I thought you deserved to know the truth, after the award-winning performance you played for me today.”
    The smile faded from her face. She remembered how frightened she'd been, how she'd had to steel herself to do what she thought was her duty. “That wasn't a performance,” she told him softly. “I thought you were for real. I wanted you stopped.”
    “And you did the job beautifully. Sandra Bullock, eat your heart out.”
    She gazed at him levelly, realizing how different their memories were of the event they'd shared. She remembered the fear, the anxiety. Meanwhile Michael remembered the thrill, the triumph of a plan well executed. They were very different, weren’t they?   He wasn’t for her.   But she knew that.   And it was a good thing she didn’t really expect anything from him.   His whole life screamed “Heartbreaker” in every way.
    “I didn't know the district attorney did this kind of thing,” she commented. “I thought that was left to the FBI.”
    He smiled. “We work in connection with them, just as we do with the