She shot him a rueful laughing look over her shoulder as she crouched down in front of the refrigerator. same two things you do, I’m sure.”

and prostitutes?” Mitchell speculated with certainty.

She stood up with a bottle of Perrier in her hand, but instead of saying he was correct, she fumbled with the top on the bottle for several seconds, trying to get it off. Intending to offer to help her, Mitchell started forward; then he realized her shoulders were shaking with laughter and he stopped in surprise. anyone thinks of Amsterdam,” he stated with certainty, “the first two things that come to mind are restaurants with marijuana on the menus and prostitutes standing in storefront windows.”

She laughed harder and she shook her head vigorously from side to side, causing her hair to shift across her ivory shoulders like a wavy crimson curtain. isnot what most people think of,” she managed unsteadily after she finally got the top off the Perrier and poured some of the sparkling liquid into her glass.

else is there to think of?” he asked.

She turned fully toward him then, her face alight with laughter. !” she informed him, picking up her glass and crossing the room to him. canals. Everyone thinks oftulips andcanals when they think of Amsterdam.”

everyone, obviously,” Mitchell pointed out.

not,” she agreed, but she refused to concede the issue based solely on his opinion. , I would like to point out that when you see pictures of Amsterdam on calendars, you see fields of bright tulips and beautiful canals. You donot see photographs of menus with marijuana as an appetizer, nor prostitutes standing in store windows.”

marijuana choices are listed on a separate menu,” Mitchell corrected, deriving the almost-forgotten, boyish pleasure of an innocent, lively debate over meaningless trivialities with an impertinent girl who attracted, amused, and opposed him. aren’t listed underAppetizers. ”

should be,” Kate informed him, automatically thinking like a restaurant owner. is an appetite stimulant.”

you speaking from personal experience?” Mitchell inquired with a knowing grin.

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have a college degree,” she told him breezily, andinformatively, he noted.

To stop him from pressing her further, Kate held up her hand and laughingly put an end to the subject. not say another word about Amsterdam, or you’ll spoil my entire image of the place before I get a chance to see it. You’ve already replaced my blissful thoughts of red and yellow tulip fields with images of restaurants reeking of pot, and my visions of lovely canals are now visions of sleazy alleys with prostitutes for sale. Besides,” she added as someone knocked on the door, dinner is here.”

Mitchell heard the relief in her voice and realized she’d been genuinely uneasy about a discussion of illicit sex and drugs with him. That puzzled and surprised him, but then virtually everything she did either confused or intrigued him. In the ensuing minutes, he watched her usher in the waiters and supervise the process of transferring the elaborate meals onto a table on the terrace as if she’d been presiding over the process in fine houses and hotels her entire life. Less than two hours ago, she’d knelt beside an injured stray dog and looked at Mitchell with tears of pleading in her eyes, and a few minutes after that, he’d found her sitting on a curb next to a busy driveway, serenely unconcerned with her comfort, or her clothes, or the reactions of the other hotel guests. A few moments later, when he told her help was on the way, she’d lifted her face to his and smiled at him with melting gratitude.

She genuinely liked him, and she wasn’t trying to hide that . . . and yet, he had the feeling he made her nervous. She was vividly, almost exotically, lovely . . . but when he’d admired the way she looked in those flowing silk pants and a little white top held up by gossamer strings tied into bows at her shoulders, she’d seemed so self-conscious that he’d remarked on her hair, instead. A few minutes ago, they’d been on the verge of a kiss . . . but when the music interrupted, she backed away and tried to pretend nothing had happened.

In view of all that, Mitchell began to wonder if he’d been wrong about her feelings for the lawyer. Perhaps the reason she’d stayed with him for years was that she was emotionally committed to him—or at least determined not to stray. Mitchell fervently hoped neither was true, because she was attracted to him, and he was very attracted to her.

In fact, he wasextremely attracted to her, he admitted to himself as he watched the waiters depart.

Behind him from the terrace, she said lightly, is served.”

Mitchell turned and saw her standing in candlelight beside the table, the island breeze ruffling her fiery mantle of red hair around her shoulders.

Wildlyattracted.

As he neared the table, she reached up and brushed a wayward strand of hair off her soft cheek. He watched the unconsciously feminine gesture as if he’d never seen hundreds of other women do it.

sit down,” she said graciously when he started around the table to pull out her chair for her. ’ve already had to wait too long for this meal.”

Kate’s earlier nervousness had vanished. She was on familiar territory now, standing beside an elegant, candlelit table and hovering near a special guest whom she wanted to make feel extremely important that evening. It was a role she could play to perfection. She’d studied under a master, and only he could do it better.

But she was never again going to see her father play this role.

Blinking back a sudden sheen of moisture in her eyes, Kate reached for the open wine bottle on a small table beside her. I pour you some wine?” she asked, smiling at his face through a blur of tears that blinded her to his sudden grin.

depends on where you’re planning to pour it, and how good your aim is.”

Kate’s emotions veered abruptly from anguish to laughter. have excellent aim,” she assured him, leaning toward his glass.

earlier evidence to the contrary,” Mitchell pointed out. To Mitchell’s dismay, she retaliated by smiling straight into his eyes while she poured just the right amount of red wine into his glass.

,” she informed him, hit exactly what I was aiming for that time, too.”

Before Mitchell could be sure whether she was serious, she turned away. He studied her closely as she slid into the chair across from his, her expression serenely blasé. you implying you intended to douse me with that Bloody Mary?” he asked.

know what they say about temperamental redheads,” Kate replied as she unfolded her napkin; then she leaned forward and looked at him as if a horrifying, but amusing, possibility had just occurred to her. “Surelyyou don’t think I deliberatelydye my hair this impossible color?”




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