Seeing Stars: A Loveswept Classic Romance Read Online Free PDF Page A

beyond the age of consent, she didn’t have to dress like Whistler’s mother!
    “You’re the oldest.” Nick stated the obvious.
    “Yes.” Dovie went on to name her seven brothers and sisters and to brag a little about all their different accomplishments, but he barely listened.
    For the first time since he’d lost his eyesight, he was interested in a woman. And not just physically, either, although he freely admitted that her generous curves had him going in circles. No, this was something different. It wasn’t merely the flesh he found himself liking about Dovie, but her personality,a staunch spirit in the face of adversity, an ability to take the negatives in life and make them positive.
    Nick closed his eyes and clenched both of his hands into fists, cudgeling back a wealth of frustration. The hell of it was, he had nothing to offer a woman anymore. Especially one who’d already seen her share of sorrow. So where did that leave him? Ready to cut his losses and run, that’s where!
    “If you’re hungry,” she offered as she came out of the bedroom, “I could make us some hash.”
    His whole body went still. The hunger he felt had nothing whatsoever to do with food. “That’s not necessary.”
    “Have you eaten?” Dovie crept cautiously across the living room toward the laundry room, trying not to fall on her recently waxed floor. Her boots weren’t dry yet, and her new red socks were slippery on the bottom.
    “No.” As though to remind him that the trout breakfast he’d planned on hadn’t worked out, Nick’s stomach growled. “But don’t go to any trouble on my account.”
    “Oh, it’s no trouble.” She threw their wet clothes in the dryer and set the timer for an hour, then made her way on cat’s feet to her small Shaker sewing rocker, opposite Nick’s chair. Funny, how she suddenly considered it
his
chair. “Really! I always cook enough to feed an army—habit, I suppose—and you’re more than welcome to join me.”
    “Homemade hash?” His deep tone sounded sowistful that Dovie couldn’t help but smile. “With potatoes and onions and a poached egg on top?”
    “Is there any other kind?” she teased as she lowered herself into the rocker with a heartfelt sigh of relief.
    He remembered all those canned goods lining his kitchen shelves back at the cabin and the remaining vestiges of his reluctance vanished. “Well, if you’re sure you don’t mind—”
    “Pish tosh.” Sitting and chatting with him in front of the fire like this, she felt a momentary pang for what might have been had she chosen to marry. “I’d love the company.”
    “And I’d love a decent meal for a change,” he confessed with a disarming smile. “Harley is a terrific driver but a terrible cook.”
    “Harley?”
    “My houseman.”
    “Oh, right.”
    Nick stood at the same that that her Seth Thomas mantel clock chimed half-past eight. “Which reminds me, I’d better give him a call and tell him about the change in plans. He was going to pick me up on the river road at nine.”
    “The telephone’s in the kitchen.” Dovie saw him stiffen defensively and realized her mistake.
    Ignoring her first instinct, which was to take his arm and lead him across the room, she sat perfectly still and added, “Turn right and take about”—she studied the muscular length of hislegs, trying to calculate—“five steps. It’s a wall phone. You can’t miss it.”
    “Wanna bet?” he grumbled good-naturedly. By following her directions to the letter, though, he did find the telephone.
    “We’re in a different area code than Richmond.” Naturally she assumed he wanted to call his home there.
    “It’s a local call.” He met the truth head-on as he reached for the receiver. “I’ve rented a cabin about a half mile west of where we were fishing this morning.”
    She looked at him, stunned. “You lied to me about where you live?”
    “I didn’t lie.” He dropped his hand. “I really do live in