Read Online For All of Her Life by Heather Graham - Free Book Online Page B

Dignity was in order now.
    “Yes, I’ve agreed to come to Florida. But I really do have to work tomorrow.”
    “But, Mom, Dad’s just come—” Bren began.
    “And I think that’s fine, and I want you to enjoy him. Jordan, please feel free to stay as late as you wish. The three of you talking out here won’t disturb me in the least. Have a nice night, you’ve just got to excuse me.”
    “Of course!” Bren murmured, and came to kiss her good night. Alex followed her sister. They both hugged her extra warmly.
    Dignity had its own rewards.
    But still she felt Jordan’s eyes on her.
    “Thanks, Kath,” he called to her. That voice. That damned voice was his. Husky. Rich. Somehow sensual even with such simple words.
    “Sure,” she said. They stood a room apart. She wasn’t going anywhere near him again. He had his own dignity. And she still had to admit, he looked damn good. Tall, straight. Handsome.
    Why couldn’t he be decently decayed? His face seemed all the more arresting. Hard to draw her gaze from him now.
    “Good night,” she said firmly.
    The word echoed back to her from all three.
    She turned quickly to head for her room.
    And she felt his eyes on her all the way. Felt a very strange warmth. Felt again, or sensed, his tension.
    And something more...
    What? Oh, dear God, just what was in that gaze? What was it she sensed but just couldn’t touch?

Five
    J ORDAN STOOD IN THE darkness, looking out the windows of his Plaza suite. The rooms were beautifully situated, offering a view of Central Park and of the avenue below. It was very late, but New York was never really in darkness, nor did the city bow to night and sleep. There were still horse-drawn carriages below. Their drivers, some of them garishly dressed, approached the tourist-types who embraced the mood of the city and still walked the streets, most of them now returning to posh parkside lodgings. Taxis still moved about, delivering their fares to various hotels. Occasionally a sleek limo swept along the street. Far across from him Jordan could see the large windows of FAO Schwarz, a delightful dazzle of color guaranteed to fascinate every child—and to entice adults as well. Tiffany was near, as were a multitude of high-priced and trendy stores. This was one of the best areas of the city, but not so far away some of the homeless were sleeping in doorways while junkies were making their buys. Gangs were busy stealing the streets from the innocents. Heat swept up from the subways to add to the summer haze caught between the walls of concrete and steel, despite the fact that it was night and the sun had fallen. New York. He’d loved the city. Loved to come here, go to the theater, hear good music, and enjoy the bustle and the unending flow of humanity as diverse as could be found anywhere in the world.
    He’d avoided New York, though, for the past ten years. Because Kathy had run away from him and come here.
    Staring out at the park, it was too easy to remember the first time they had come here together. She’d never been out of the far South, had never seen fall before. When they’d walked in the park, she’d worn her first pair of gloves, along with a friend’s old lambskin jacket. “It’s autumn, Jordan!” she’d told him, completely exuberant as she scooped up a pile of red and yellow leaves—along with some hardened carriage-horse droppings.
    “Kathy, some of it is autumn. Some of it is horse manure!” He could still remember the face she had made at him, and the way they had laughed, and rolled in the leaves.
    So long ago. Strange, he’d been the serious one then, the down-to-earth one. She’d been so quick to explore, to laugh. Blue Heron had already existed at a much smaller level—just Keith on drums, Derrick Flanaghan on bass, Kathy as backup, and himself on lead guitar. But he’d wanted to study music. He’d wanted all the background he could take in—not just to play and hope for a fleeting popularity, but to create