The Kiss Read Online Free PDF Page B

summer, as he always did. But he had his own plans before then. He was going to be working in Washington all summer. Cindy no longer asked him to join them anymore, she knew it was a lost cause, and would have been stunned if he'd wanted to. “What's your room number?” he asked, glancing at his watch. They hadtime for a quick lunch, and he already knew he wanted to take her to Harry's Bar for dinner that night.
    “Three fourteen.”
    “We're on the same floor,” he observed. “I'm not sure where you are. I'm in three twenty-nine. I'll pick you up on the way out. Ten minutes?”
    “Perfect,” she smiled shyly then, and there was a moment's pause. “I'm happy to see you, Bill.” For a moment, she sounded very French, and he felt suddenly very young. She meant something to him that he couldn't have explained. She was what he had always thought women should be, but couldn't have defined if he'd had to put it into words. Gentle, loving, patient, understanding, interested in all his doings, compassionate, funny, kind. She was like an unexpected gift in his life, as he was in hers. He was the life preserver she hung on to when everything else around had vanished over the years. There was nothing she could count on anymore, Teddy's health was a constant worry to her, and she knew that she could lose him at any moment, and Gordon was simply the man she shared a house with, and who had given her his name, but she often felt that he was no longer a part of her life. Except for occasional public appearances, he no longer had any need for her in his. And, as was appropriate at her age, Sophie had flown the nest. More than ever these days, Isabelle felt alone. Except when she was with Bill, in person, or on the phone. He was her mainstay, her joy, her laughter, her comfort, and her best friend.
    “I'm happy to see you too,” he said gently. “I'll pickyou up in ten minutes. We can figure out our plans then.” He knew they were going to the Tate the next day, and there were some private galleries she had mentioned she wanted to visit. He was planning to take her to dinner both nights. He would have liked to take her to the theater as well because he knew how much she loved it, but he hated to waste hours of precious time that he could spend talking to her. It was Tuesday afternoon, and they had until Thursday night. She had said she might be able to stay until Friday morning, but it depended on how Teddy was. And she felt she should be back in Paris for the weekend. It was like a race against time, and an extraordinary gift to have these few days. They had never been able to do anything like this. And he had no ulterior motives, no intentions or plans. He was just looking forward to the opportunity to be with her. There was something wonderfully pure and innocent about what they shared.
    Bill washed his face and hands, shaved quickly, as he thought about seeing her, and ten minutes later was walking down the hall looking for her room number. It was around two corners and as confusing as possible, but he found her at last. He knocked on the door, and the wait seemed interminable, and then she opened it and stood there looking at him for a moment with a shy smile.
    “How are you?” she asked, her creamy skin faintly flushed, her long dark hair brushed and gleaming as it hung past her shoulders, and her eyes looked straight into his. “You look wonderful,” she said as she stepped out of the room and he gave her a hug. Hehad never kissed more than her cheek, as he did now. He had a faint tan from a weekend he'd spent at home in Greenwich several weeks before, in sharp contrast to her creamy white skin. Her summers of tanning in the South of France had ended years before. Gordon still went occasionally, to see friends, or with Sophie, while Isabelle stayed home with their son.
    “So do you,” Bill said admiringly. Each time he saw her, he was struck by how beautiful she was. He forgot about it sometimes, when he got caught