Only Mine Read Online Free PDF

the trunks to the stage, just holler. We’ll come running.”
    Jessica flushed at the young man’s open admiration. “That’s very kind of you.”
    Wolfe grunted and gave the youths a look that sent them out of the room in a hurry. The bold one turned back and tipped his hat to Jessica just before he shut the door.
    “Bind up your hair,” Wolfe said coldly. “Even in America, a woman doesn’t let anyone but her family see her with her hair rumbling to her hips.”
    Without a word, Jessica went to the small dressing table and picked up one of the brushes Betsy had set out before she left. Drawn despite himself to the implied intimacy of her unbound hair flowing around her hips, Wolfe watched from the corner of his eye as Jessica began brushing.
    After a few minutes it became apparent that Jessica wasn’t happy with the brush. She kept shifting it in her grip, trying to figure out the best way to tame her seething, silky hair and make it behave as Betsy had. Twice, Jessica dropped the brush. The third time the brush fell, Wolfe picked it up, ran his fingertips over the ivory handle, and looked at Jessica curiously.
    “It’s smooth, but not slippery,” he said, handing it to her.
    “Thank you.” Jessica looked at the baffling tool that seemed to do nothing more than make her hair leap and crackle with electricity. “I don’t understand what’s wrong. It worked well enough for Betsy.”
    “It worked well enough for…” Wolfe’s voice died.
    “You’re right. There seems to be a parrot loose in this room,” she said blandly.
    “My God! You don’t even know how to dress your own hair.”
    “Of course not. That was Betsy’s job, and quite good at it she was.” Jessica looked at Wolfe cautiously. There was a stunned expression on his face. “I take it that American women complete their toilet unassisted?”
    “My God.”
    “Ah, then it’s a religious custom.” Jessica sighed. “Very well, if every Betsy and Abigail here can do it, so can I. Give me the brush, please.”
    Wolfe was too staggered to resist. Numbly he watched as Jessica brought the brush down through her hair with great determination and no finesse. The too-rapid stroke caused another surge of static electricity. Her hair crackled and fanned out, tangling with buttons and clinging to whatever it touched.
    One of the things her hair touched was Wolfe’s hand. Fine strands wrapped around his skin and clung like a lover. The sensation was indescribably silky. His heartbeat doubled. With a curse he snatched his hand back, accidentally yanking her hair in the process.
    Jessica’s breath came in with a startled sound as her eyes watered. “That wasn’t necessary.”
    “I didn’t do it on purpose. Your hair attacked me.”
    “Attacked you?”
    “You have a point. We must do something about that blasted parrot.”
    She turned and saw her hair wrapped aroundhis wrist and tangled in the button on his cuff. “Are the teeth very sharp?”
    “What?”
    “Betsy warned me about my hair’s unruly appetite for buttons,” Jessica said gravely, “but she said nothing about flesh. I hope your wound isn’t serious.”
    Wolfe’s shoulders moved as he tried to stifle laughter at Jessica’s solemn teasing. He snickered as he picked individual strands of hair from the button.
    “Perhaps I’d better do that,” she offered. “If you startle the red ones, they bite quite savagely.”
    Wolfe gave up and laughed aloud, knowing as he did so that he was a fool but unable to do anything about it at the moment. Of all the people he had ever known, only Jessica was able to make him laugh so easily.
    “Damn it, elf…”
    Jessica smiled and touched Wolfe’s hand. The light caress made his hand jerk, but he said nothing. When the last silky strand of hair was freed from his clothing, he went to the table and poured clean water over his hands from the ewer. Shaking off loose drops, he went back to Jessica.
    “Stand still.”
    Slowly, he smoothed his