Scout's Honor Read Online Free PDF Page A

a bite before she
added, “I’m going to call it a night when I’m finished with
dessert. Thanks for dinner and the information.”
    He gave her a brotherly kiss on the cheek.
“Anytime, sweetheart,” he said, and turned to follow the waiter,
leaving her alone to sort through her thoughts on why a married San
Francisco lawyer was hot on her trail.
    Late-summer breezes caressed her skin as she
sipped her wine and watched the ever-changing ocean splashing on
the beach. Half of the dessert went untouched. It was delicious,
but too much. She closed her eyes and inhaled the tangy smell of
salt spray and the sweet bouquet of seductive island flowers.
    After a few moments of quiet contemplation,
she sensed she was not alone. She opened one heavily shaded lid,
and her gaze encountered a tuxedoed midriff. Both eyes opened and
she stretched deeply into the chair as she let her gaze slowly
wander up the length of worn lapels to a crooked grin and a golden
face.
    Her stretching caused the satin folds of her
dress to slip dangerously low, inspiring a deep sigh from the
white-shirted chest and a flame of anticipation in the brown
eyes.
    “Good evening, Mr. Summers.” She rolled the
words off her tongue, fully aware of the effect she was having on
him. She knew the dress would only go as far as she wanted it
to—but he didn’t. “Congratulations on your luck at the baccarat
table.”
    “I barely broke even.” His husky voice
caught as he forced his eyes up to meet hers.
    “I wasn’t alluding to the game.” She smiled
and brought her wineglass to her lips. “Please. Be seated.”
    As he sat down a service person appeared and
whisked away all traces of her dinner with St. John. Then the
waiter approached, directing his attention to Anna.
    “Another bottle of the Chardonnay, please,”
she said. “You will join me, won’t you, Mr. Summers?” She enjoyed
turning the tables on him. He might have made the first move, but
she was in control of the situation.
    “Joining you is exactly what I had in mind,
Ms. Lange.” He delivered the words in his western drawl, the light
still shining in his eyes.
    He seemed to have regained his composure,
and she was momentarily disconcerted by his confidence, but she
knew it didn’t show on her face or in her gesture as she graciously
waved the wine steward toward Mr. Summers. Let him decide if the
wine was suitable for his undoubtedly plebeian tastes, she
thought.
    She hid her satisfaction as he swallowed the
initial small portion of wine in one gulp and pronounced it fine.
With unfazed aplomb, the steward acknowledged Mr. Summers’s verdict
and poured full glasses for both of them before melting into the
dining room, leaving them alone on the balcony in the warm Bahamian
night.
    Strains of music and laughter drifted up
from the ground-floor casino, softly punctuated by the waves
breaking continuously on the shore and the junkanoo beat of a steel
band playing farther down the beach. Anna took her time before
initiating conversation, knowing the first move was hers, knowing
he would give it to her.
    She watched the candlelight dance shadows
across his face, sharpening the lean angles, highlighting the curve
of his dark eyebrows, and softening the bend in his nose. In her
mind she was trying to reconcile the innocent mischief of his face
with the facts—lousy gambler, poor loser, unfaithful—and couldn’t
get the disparate images to match up. Logic told her to put her
instincts on probation and go with the facts until she got to the
bottom of this scenario.
    “So tell me, Mr. Summers.” She arched
forward, delicately holding her wineglass in both hands as she
leaned her elbows on the table. “Why have you been following
me?”
    He met her gaze straight on, the softness in
his eyes reaching across the night to melt her coolness, his slow
grin lifting a corner of his mouth.
    “Do you believe in love at first sight?” he
asked.
    Her mouth curved into a cynical smile as she
shook her