Reckless Night Read Online Free PDF Page B

cheek. He covered her hand with his and brought her hand to his mouth. He touched his tongue to her palm and watched her pupils dilate.

    Ah, yes. She felt it, too.

    Grace stepped back sharply, as if against a magnetic current.

    She shook her head. “I know what you’re thinking.

    And much as I’d like to play with you, we have reservations for dinner and the opera.”

    “Yes, ma’am.” With some difficulty, Drake reined himself in. Over the course of the past year, he’d grown used to having Grace whenever he wanted. There had never been any constraints other than if she was feeling desire or not.

    She felt desire right now, it was clear. A faint rose under her light tan, breathing irregular and fast. Oh yes, she desired him too.

    But he could have her, any time he wanted. It would be selfish of him to indulge himself now and miss the dinner date, when dinner and the theater were his Christmas gifts to her.

    Drake had a great deal of control over his body. He’d held perfectly still while a bone had been set and stitches had been taken without anesthesia. He could deal with the tiny bite of deferred lust.

    He held out his arm like the gentleman he wasn’t.

    “Ma’am? I thought we’d walk to the restaurant. It isn’t far.” He enjoyed the inrush of breath, the blinding smile she turned up at him, the blush of joy. “We can walk to the restaurant? That would be wonderful. It’s a beautiful evening. But—but is it safe?” For the millionth time, Drake realized what he’d asked of Grace. To give up almost everything for him. She’d told him she used to love taking long walks around Manhattan. They hadn’t gone for a walk—a real walk—since they escaped the assassination attempt over a year ago.

    He tucked a shiny red-brown lock of hair behind her ear and bent to kiss her cheek. “We can walk.” They took the elevator down and plunged into the happy Christmas crowds on the street. Grace’s head was swiveling to catch everything. He knew she was storing up images, colors, shapes, and nuances of light.

    His head wasn’t swiveling but he was alert. They walked a pedestrian street filled with happy crowds.

    Some kids were break dancing and they stopped to watch.

    They were very good, a delight to watch. Fluid and lithe, awash in the joy of youth and health.
    Unobtrusively, Drake let an Australian hundred dollar bill flutter into the silk top hat on the ground.

    “Your spidey sense telling you everything is okay?” Grace’s amused voice sounded behind him.

    He turned to meet her smiling eyes. “Hmm? My spidey sense?” Grace laughed, hooked her arm through his again.

    “Obviously, your knowledge of pop culture is deficient. It comes from Spiderman. He has a spider’s senses, greater than ours. Your pickle.”

    He looked down at her and she laughed again, elbowing him in the side. “Your pickle? Of awareness?”

    “Oh.” Drake looked around as they walked. No, strolled. Strolled. To his certain knowledge, he’d never walked slowly through any city, enjoying the sights. And for the last ten years of his criminal career, he’d never walked at all, but had himself driven from point A to point B in an armored Mercedes with tinted windows and its own air supply. Cut off from the world in a steel cocoon of safety.

    Never, ever like this—alive to all the sights and sounds and smells of a great city.

    He expanded his awareness. He had a highly refined sense of danger, born of a lifetime of battle.
    A n entire lifetime where a moment’s inattention, underestimating an adversary, not noticing the details of a hidden threat could get him killed.

    Danger usually manifested in a sense of dread, a tingling at the nape of his neck, cold in the pit of his stomach.

    Nothing. He was feeling absolutely nothing like that.

    No coldness, no darkness. No threat. Just happy human beings as far as the eye could see. Some were hurrying, yes, from point A to point B, but most were ambling along,