Songbird Read Online Free PDF Page B

turned on her stereo, letting the soft music of KICK-FM fill the room. “I hope you like mellow music.”
    “ If I don’t, I’m taking out the wrong girl.”
    “ You have a point.”
    He studied the carved legs of the coffee table appreciatively. “Your furniture is beautiful. Is this an antique?”
    “ Yes. It belonged to my great-grandmother. All of this did. Do you like antiques?”
    “ I usually go for the more modern stuff, but I admire the craftsmanship on these old pieces. Especially the hand carving.”
    “ If you like carving, you should see the detail work on the headboard of my four-poster bed. It’s—” She broke off, blushing. Why did she say that? It almost sounded like an invitation.
    “ I’d love to see it.”
    “ No!” She realized she had shouted the word, and softened her voice. “The bedroom’s even more of a disaster than the living room.” She took several steps backward. “I’ll go and change. Oh, can I get you something to drink?”
    “ No, thanks.” He indicated two half-filled water glasses on the coffee table. “I’ll just help myself to some of this if I get thirsty.”
    She choked back an embarrassed laugh. “I’ll be back in three minutes.” Turning, she fled down the hall. If she survived this evening with her sanity intact, it’d be a miracle.

    ***

    I’m only going out with this man once, Desiree thought, as she fastened the tiny buttons up the front of her lavender cotton sundress. So I might as well do it right.
    What was it Barbara had said? In the right dress...with your hair up...you’d be as glamorous as hell. Well, the dress was far from glamorous, but it was the best she could do. The flared skirt, trimmed at the hem by a long ruffle with matching crocheted lace, made her feel dainty and feminine, and the form-fitting bodice accentuated her tiny waistline. The deep orchid color contrasted with her fair complexion and seemed to bring a healthy glow to her face.
    She pulled on high-heeled white sandals and picked up her brush, running it fiercely through the curls that cascaded over her shoulders. She never wore her hair up. How would it look? She threw her head forward, grabbed the thick mass of hair and twisted it into a bun on top of her head. Holding the bulky knot in place with one hand, she pulled a few wispy tendrils of hair down around her forehead and ears. Standing up, she surveyed the effect in the beveled mirror above her dresser.
    She looked ridiculous. Like a midget balancing a ball on her head.
    Sighing, she shook her head vigorously, letting her hair fall into place in its natural side part. On a sudden impulse, she pulled out a delicate gold pendant from her jewelry box and fastened it around her neck.
    When she returned to the living room, she found Kyle thumbing through a magazine, one arm draped across the back of the sofa, his legs stretched out in front of him. He’d buttoned his shirt and had put on a grey-and-blue-striped tie, which he must have brought in from his car. The last beams of fading sunlight streaming in through the front window burnished the gleaming bronze and copper highlights in his hair. He looked totally natural and completely at ease, as if he made a daily habit of waiting in strange women’s living rooms while they dressed for dinner. As she wondered if that was true, she thought he looked right somehow, relaxing there on her couch, as if he belonged there.
    She smiled. “Glad to see you made yourself at home.”
    He tossed the magazine aside and looked up at her, his eyebrows lifting in admiration. He let out a low whistle. “Wow! You look terrific. I like your dress.”
    “ This dress?” She felt her cheeks glow with pleasure, but couldn’t quite bring herself to meet his gaze. Fingering a corner of the long ruffled hem, she said, “It’s just an old thing. I’m sorry I don’t have anything more chic, but—”
    “ You mean something in electric-blue silk, open in the back, cut just off the