The Heart's Victory Read Online Free PDF Page B

her maneuver and tipped off the ash at the end of his cigar. “Most of the time. Ever been there?” He tossed his arm over the back of the seat. The gesture was so casual Foxy was barely aware of it.
    â€œNo.” The glider’s motion continued, slow and soothing. “I’d like to. I know there are fabulous contrasts. Brownstones and ivy, and steel and glass. I’ve seen some very effective pictures.”
    â€œI saw one of yours not too long ago.”
    â€œOh?” Curious, she turned her head toward him and was surprised to find their faces nearly touching. His warm breath touched her lips. The power was stronger this time, and even more tempting. As she inched cautiously away his eyes never flickered from hers.
    â€œIt was taken in winter, but there was no snow, only a bit of frost on naked trees. There was a bench, and an old man was sleeping on it wrapped up in a gray and black topcoat. The sun came low through the trees and fell right across him. It was incredibly sad and quite beautiful.”
    Foxy was for the moment at a total loss. She had not expected Lance Matthews to possess any sensitivity or appreciation for the fine points of her craft. As they sat in silence something was happening between them, but she knew neither how to resist or encourage it. It was something as elemental as man and woman and as complex as emotion. His eyes continued to hold hers as his fingers tangled in the tips of her hair.
    â€œI was very impressed,” he went on as she remained silent and perplexed. “I noticed your name under it. I thought at first it couldn’t be you. The Cynthia Fox I remembered didn’t have the ability to take a picture with that much depth, that much feeling. I still knew you as a wide-eyed adolescent with a vile temper.” When Lance broke the look to flick away the stub of his cigar, Foxy let out a quiet, shaky breath.
    Relax,
she ordered herself.
Stop being an idiot.
    â€œIn any case, I was curious enough to do some checking. When I found it was you, I was doubly impressed.” As he turned back to her one brow lifted and disappeared under the tousled front of his hair. “Obviously you’re very good at what you do.”
    â€œWhat? Play with cameras?” But she smiled with the question. The evening air had mellowed her mood.
    His grin was quick. “I’ve always thought a person should enjoy their work. I’ve been playing with cars for years.”
    â€œYou can afford to play,” she reminded him. Her voice cooled without her being aware of it.
    â€œYou’ve never forgiven me for having money, have you?” There was a light amusement in his voice that made her feel foolish.
    â€œNo.” She shrugged. “I suppose not. Ten million always seemed so ostentatious.”
    He laughed, a low rumble, then tugged on her hair until she faced him again. “Only new money is ostentatious in Boston, Foxy. Old money is discreet.”
    â€œWhat constitutes ‘old,’ financially speaking?” Foxy found she enjoyed his laugh and the friendly hand on her hair.
    â€œOh, I’d say three generations would be the bare minimum. Anything less would be suspect. You know, Fox, I much prefer the lily of the valley to the gasoline you used to wear.”
    â€œThanks. I do wear unleaded now and again, but only when I’m feeling reckless.” She rose with a sigh. It surprised her that she would have preferred sitting with him to rejoining the party. “I’d better get back in. Are you coming?”
    â€œNot yet.” He took her hand and with a swift jerk spun her around until she tumbled into his lap.
    â€œLance!” With a surprised laugh, she pushed against his chest. “What are you doing?” Her struggles were halfhearted, though his hands were still firm on her waist. Foxy’s mood was still mellow.
    â€œI never kissed you hello.”
    Laughter died on her lips as she sensed