Read The Burning Point for Free Online Page A

work in the company was over his dead body."
    He pursed his lips in a soundless whistle. "That's rough."
    "I've never been so furious in my life." The seething emotions settled into her stomach as a hard, aching knot. Kate didn't like being angry--but her whole life had just been turned upside down.
    "How do you and your father usually get along?"
    She wiped her eyes with one wrist. "Really well. In a way, that makes this worse. It's a...a kind of betrayal."
    "I see." He rocked back on his heels as he considered. "Since you won't go back, I'll take you home myself, if you don't mind riding on a motorcycle."
    She hesitated before deciding that she would be better off accepting his offer than risking the streets and the cold weather. He wouldn't be parking expensive cars at the Maryland Cotillion if he wasn't responsible. All her instincts said she'd be safe with him.
    Or at least, as safe as she wanted to be. With a slow smile, she held out her hand. "It's a deal, Donovan."
    He shook her hand, his clasp warm and strong around her ungloved fingers. She felt a surprising tingle, almost like an electrical shock. Telling herself that her imagination was working overtime, she released his hand and began walking back to the theater. "By the way, my name is Kate Corsi."
    "Pleased to meet you. You're not what I expected in a debutante."
    "I was faking it earlier."
    In front of the hall, the two other parking valets were sheltering from the wind in the corner by the steps. Like her new escort, they were college age. Donovan said, "Sorry to cut out, but I have to take Miss Corsi home."
    "Ms.," she corrected.
    "Ms. Corsi," he agreed. "If anyone comes looking, tell 'em she's fine."
    One of the other valets, a lean redhead, made a face. "With only two of us, it's going to be a zoo when everyone leaves, but you're right, we can't let her walk." He smiled winningly. "I can take you home, Ms. Corsi, and I have a car, not a bike."
    She tugged the uniform jacket closer. "Thanks, but I've never ridden on a motorcycle before, much less in a ball gown. How can I pass up such a great offer?"
    Donovan led Kate around the hall to the crowded parking lot behind the building. His bike, not new but well tended, was parked to one side. As he pulled his keys from his pocket, he cast a dubious glance at her gown. "Your dress might get wrecked."
    She looked down at the froth of satin and lace, then shrugged. "This sort of gown is only meant to be worn once. After tonight, it's history."
    He flipped up the kickstand with one heel. "I've only got one helmet with me. You wear it." He tried to hand the helmet to her.
    She refused to take it. "You're the driver. You need it more."
    "Maybe, but I don't like carrying passengers without helmets." He thought a moment. "I know--we can go by my aunt and uncle's place in Hampden. It's only a couple of miles, and in the right direction. I'll borrow Uncle Frankie's car to take you out to Ruxton. It'll be a lot more comfortable than the bike, especially if it starts snowing."
    "Fine. This is turning into a real adventure."
    He gave her a devastating grin as he slid off the rubber band that held his ponytail in place. Dark hair fell silkily to brush his shoulders. Then he straddled the motorcycle, turned the key, and hit the kick start pedal. Raising his voice over the roar, he said, "Make sure your skirt is tucked in--I don't want you to do an Isadora Duncan."
    Where on earth had an East Baltimore guy picked that up? Laughing, she swung onto the saddle behind him and stuffed voluminous folds of fabric under her thighs and knees so her skirt wouldn't blow out of control.
    She wrapped her arms around his lean waist. His shirt was a crisp white that crackled with starch and emphasized his broad shoulders. He radiated a male magnetism that would cause a riot in a nunnery. She wanted to rub her cheek between his shoulder blades like a cat.
    He glanced back. "You're going to feel real exposed. Have faith in inertia, centrifugal