Read Fire Under Snow for Free Online Page A

of his laugh puzzled her too much for her to find appeasement in the seeming capitulation of his words. She looked to his eyes for guidance for her thoughts and saw by the mocking glint in them that he did not think it would be too long before he overcame her scruples and got her into his apartment and, ultimately, into his bed.
    To her chagrin she realized the scrutiny was reciprocal and he was also using her eyes to read her mind. She put her hands up to her cheeks in a childish attempt to hide the revealing stain, but it didn’t occur to her to veil her eyes by the simple expedient of looking down.
    â€œI thought blushing was a dying virtue,” he said, drawing her hand away from her cheek, turning her fully into the beam cast by the street lamp.
    â€œVirtue?” She laughed. “It’s a curse.”
    He lifted her hand, which was still in his keeping, and looked down at her fingers in dedicated thought. She knew, although she had never considered herself to have especially accurate instincts, that he was looking at their ringless state. The burn scars that had once marred them were no longer visible to any but the most discerning eyes.
    â€œAnyone would think that you didn’t trust me,” he said. “Is it something about me, men in general, or are you taking it out on all men for the misdeeds of one?”
    She didn’t know about trusting him; she did know it was the first time in three years that she had entrusted her hand into another’s clasp without fighting the urge to snatch it away. “Take your pick,” she said haughtily in an attempt to cover her confusion. “The price of a meal buys you my company, not my life story.”
    It was the kind of flip statement Jessica delivered so successfully, always managing to sound intelligent and amusing while making it cuttingly clear to the interrogator that trespass of her privacy was not permitted.
    Instead of looking perturbed at being slapped down for prying, he turned the tables on her by applying a mocking note of his own. “You’re not like your contemporaries. I would say there are more lurid happenings in the average twelve-year-old’s reading matter than have occurred in your life. At your age most girls have lost their virginity. I’ll wager that yours is still intact.”
    â€œDo you always gamble on long shots?”
    â€œNo. I only bet on certainties.”
    She refrained from further comment. All he could deduce from the return of color to her cheeks was that once again he had succeeded in embarrassing her. It did not confirm that his judgment was correct.
    â€œForgive me,” he said, taking pity on her. “You are so delicious to tease and it’s such a novelty. It’s a rare thing to find a girl who is so easily shocked.”
    â€œI dread to think what kind of girl you usually acquaint yourself with,” she replied pedantically.
    â€œYes – well –” he said, unabashed. “Perhaps the less said about that the better. Let’s make a pact. We won’t talk about the women I know, and your past life shall likewise be treated as a taboo subject.”
    Although it was half said in jest, it was also in the nature of a commitment; and, even though it was early days, she knew it was one she wouldn’t mind taking seriously.
    It was probably just a game to him, but his right hand released her left hand and was then reoffered with formal gravity. “Shake on it.” Her right hand went forward, the bargain was sealed and she allowed herself to be directed into the passenger seat of his car.
    It was the most luxurious car she had ever been in. The engine made no more than a soothing purr and the suspension smoothed out the bumps so that it was like riding on air. She told herself to make the most of it, because she knew it couldn’t last. She was a novelty to him, delicious to tease, a challenge. He couldn’t believe that any female was