Read One Reckless Night for Free Online

live here,' he explained gently. 'I thought you were planning to buy a house?'
      'Well, yes.' She could have kicked herself. 'But I gathered I was on a hiding to nothing over that.'
      Jake shrugged again. 'I suppose there's always a chance-if you make the right offer,' he returned. 'As I said, the caretaker for Church House will be around later. You could always have a word with him. See how the land lies.'
      'Thank you, I certainly will.' She made herself speak casually. 'Is there some kind of local history group in the village, by any chance? I'd like to get to know a little more about the place before making any firm decision, you understand?'
      'Oh, yes,' he said slowly. 'I understand perfectly.' He paused. 'I'll gladly introduce you to a few people, but I can't guarantee they'll tell you what you want to know.'
      'Just some general background would be fine,' Zanna declared airily, and untruthfully. And someone who knew a child-a little girl called Susan. Someone to fill in some of the aching blanks in her own childhood.
      The tempo of the music changed, became slower, more dreamy.
      'This is our waltz.' Jake held out a hand, inviting her to join him on the dance floor. Zanna hung back, shaking her head, aware, suddenly, that her pulses had begun to thud erratically.
      'I really don't dance.'
      'Didn't you have lessons at your exclusive boarding school?' he drawled.
      'Well-yes,' she conceded reluctantly. 'But that was a long time ago.'
      'Then it's time your memory was jogged.' She was drawn firmly and relentlessly into his arms. 'I lead-you follow.'
      Which wasn't a situation she was used to, as he was probably well aware, she thought, gritting her teeth. For the first few moments she felt totally awkward, her feet everywhere, her body stiff and unyielding in his embrace. But gradually she found herself responding to the rhythm of the music, as well as to her partner's unspoken signals, as he guided her round the crowded floor.
      As the final chords sounded she said stiltedly, 'Thank you, I enjoyed that.'
      'All you need is more practice.'
      'I don't think I know any dance teachers.'
      'Not at waltzing, Susie,' he said quietly. 'At living.'
      There was a brief, startled pause, then she said thickly, 'You have a hell of a nerve.'
      'Famous for it,' he agreed, without any visible signs of remorse.
      'Damn you-I have a very good life.'
      'Crammed with all kinds of goodies, I have no doubt,' Jake said expressionlessly. 'But that isn't what I mean.'
      Zanna lifted her chin, giving him a look that had originated well north of the Arctic Circle.
      She said, coolly and precisely, 'You may be well-versed in the inner workings of motor vehicles-although that has still to be proved-Mr-er...'
      'Jones,' he supplied cordially. 'As in Alias Smith and...'
      Zanna bit her lip hard. That was not the name he'd given previously, she thought thunderously, but it seemed wiser, under the circumstances, to ignore it rather than call the matter into question.
      'But I suggest you lay off the human psychology,' she went on, raising her voice a semitone. 'At that you're a total amateur.'
      'As I imagine you are yourself, Susie. At least at the things that matter.' He gave her an edged grin. 'Now let's go and get some drinks.'
      'No, thanks,' Zanna refused curtly. 'I think I'd rather go back to the Black Bull.'
      He had the audacity to laugh. 'Don't sulk.' And, as her lips parted in furious negation, he added, 'And don't fib either. Just think of what Reverend Mother would have said.'
      'How did you know I went to a convent?' she demanded suspiciously.
      His smile widened. 'Call it a lucky guess.' He paused. 'Besides, if you run away now you could miss out on a guided tour of Church House. Isn't that worth enduring my company for a little while longer?'
      He took her hand in his and led her round the edge of the floor to a room at the rear of the hall where the bar had been set up.