you,’ he said, giving a vague smile.
She was aware suddenly that she was gaping at him stupidly. She rearranged her face in what she hoped was a more dignified expression. ‘I was just going out for some eggs.’ Now why did she tell him that? There was no reason to explain herself.
Amusement gleamed in his eyes. ‘May your quest be successful,’ he said, ‘otherwise drop by and have some of mine. On second thought, why not just have some of mine right now and save yourself the trip?’
‘Thank you, but I need the exercise and I’m sure they have some at the corner store.’ She scooted down the steps to the brick sidewalk and heard the front door close behind her. Her heart was going crazy. What was the matter with her? The moment she saw him, her senses went wild. This was not normal, was it? After all, she didn’t even like the man.
BRYANT was watching her. It was odd-she could feel his eyes on her like a touch on her skin. Zoe sipped her wine as she slowly turned and allowed her gaze to pass casually over Bryant, pretending she didn’t notice him. He was talking to an Arab in a white flowing robe and a woman in a bunny costume. There was indeed an intriguing array of clothes. She glanced around Maxie’s crowded living-room, glimpsing a man in a dashiki, two women in saris and an assortment of exotic print shirts. The rest of the guests wore a more standard variety of party garb, including Bryant, who sported dark trousers and a blue and black print silk shirt, open at the neck.
She wore a short little party dress with off-theshoulder sleeves that she had bought in Rome when she’d visited her mother there this summer on her way back to the States. It was black and sexy, and actually she felt a bit naked in it, although the dress did not expose anything that shouldn’t be exposed in polite company. It was just that she hadn’t worn this sort of clothes for ages.
Arriving at the party a few minutes ago, she’d been surprised to see Bryant, then realized that he was Maxie’s neighbor as much as she. A moment later he was standing in front of her, apparently having shed the Arab and the bunny. ‘You look rather lost,’ he said.
She grimaced. ‘I don’t know anyone here. I suppose I should just dive in and introduce myself to someone who looks interesting and start a conversation.’
He surveyed the room. ‘Who looks interesting to you?’
‘The sheik over there, the one you were just talking to. I can just see him on a camel trotting through the desert.’
He took a sip from his drink. ‘You find that idea romantic?’
‘I said interesting, not romantic,’ she said, giving him a challenging look which he pretended not to notice.
‘I’m afraid you’re going to be disappointed,’ he said.
‘The man was born and bred in Texas. Spent several years in Saudi Arabia with an oil company, and now shows up at parties in his costume. He’s never been within ten feet of a camel and he’s a big bore.’
She sighed. ‘All right, who’s interesting?’
‘That little old lady over there,’ he said promptly.
‘The one in the orthopedic shoes.’ A smile tugged at his mouth as he looked at her.
She was being reprimanded, she knew, ever so slightly, but he had a sense of humor, which was very reassuring.
‘So what’s interesting about her?’ ‘She knows how to ride a camel.’ Zoe laughed. She couldn’t help it.
‘She works for a relief organization in the Sudan,’ he went on. ‘She’s on home leave.’
‘You’re kidding.’ Zoe looked at the woman. She was tiny, wrinkled and gray and at least in her seventies-at first glance, just an old lady. On closer inspection, it was obvious that there was nothing old and doddering about her. She emanated a vivacious spirit, laughing and gesturing with her hands as she spoke.
‘She seems rather busy now, but I’ll have to go and speak to her later,’ she said. ‘By the way, I understand you’ve also worked in Venezuela. I have a friend who just moved there. Did you like it there?’
Behind the bright blue of his eyes, dark shadows moved. Or was she imagining it?
‘Not particularly.’ His voice had cooled considerably. ‘Who told you?’
Not a good subject of conversation, obviously. Her heart fluttered nervously. ‘Nobody. It was in Paul’s file. He was born in Caracas, it said.’
He rubbed his temple with long, lean fingers, stroking at tension. Or pain. Or just out of habit. ‘Yes, of course.’
‘How’s Paul doing?’ she asked lightly. ‘Did you talk to him?’
‘Paul will be fine,’ he said, a faint note of impatience in his voice. ‘He’ll see the light one of these days.’ He took a drink from his glass, which held something amber-colored with ice cubes floating in it. Whiskey, probably.
The bunny bumped into him accidentally on purpose. ‘Oh, I’m terribly sorry!’ she exclaimed and beamed up at him with a toothpaste smile. ‘Oh, I wanted to tell you that I found it fascinating what you said about the development politics in Argentina.was it Argentina?’
Zoe escaped with a sigh of relief. Saved by a rabbit, she thought, and gave a little chuckle. Well, she’d learned something about Mr Sinclair: not only did he not like talking about his son, he also didn’t like talking about Venezuela. She wondered what had happened in Venezuela. She wondered what had happened to his wife.
She mingled, smiling, talking, listening, nibbling at exotic-looking little tidbits of food, trying not to be aware of Bryant, who, with amazing speed, had managed to get rid of the bunny once more and was mingling, too. She talked for quite some time with the little old lady, who was very interesting indeed, not to speak of sharp and full of humor.
‘So, what did you think of her?’ asked Bryant later.
‘People like her give me great hope for the future,’
she said. ‘I hope I never dry up.’
‘Do you worry about that a lot?’
She laughed. ‘Actually, no.’
He put his empty glass on the tray of a passing waiter. ‘And what are your hopes for the future?’ he asked lightly.
‘Oh, I have a catalogue full.’ This was true enough, if not very specific. She wasn’t ready to tell him her intimate dreams. She smiled. ‘Mostly, I don’t ever want to be bored. Or boring, for that matter,’ she added.
‘You are not boring,’ he stated evenly, his blue eyes locking with hers.
She felt her heart leap a little. She mustered a bright smile. ‘Thank you, that’s a relief. I hope I can keep that up until old age.’ She tucked a stray curl behind her ear. ‘And what about your hopes for the future?’
‘I’ve not given it much thought. May I get you another glass of wine?’
His personal future seemed to be another subject he
