Read Online Snowflake Kisses by Marianne Evans - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Marianne Evans
Tags: Christian fiction
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rejoined the party, rounding the edge of a long oval hor d’oeuvres table draped by white linen. Picking up a plate, Jackson explored the selection of gourmet canapés.
“Thank goodness for food markers, otherwise I’d be clueless.”
“The food is delicious, so be daring.”
Easy enough for her to say; selections included such items as herbed goat cheese on focaccia bread. There was also an offering of green pea cake with lemon cream cheese, poached sea trout and avruga.
“I think I’ll stick with a few red pepper blini’s with smoked chicken. I figure that’s daring yet—”
“Safe at the same time.” Vanessa’s playful snicker tempted him to try a sweet potato croute with pork pâté that had been lightly drizzled with rhubarb chutney. Vanessa met that selection with an approving nod. “Bravo.”
Sumptuous food offerings were highlighted at perfectly spaced intervals by the decorative touch of low, round, white china vases. Each narrow neck sported a single, perfect bloom of red poinsettia. The ascent upon London’s iconic Ferris wheel began with barely a shift of motion. Jackson plucked a pair of bubbling champagne flutes from the table and offered one to Vanessa, trailing after her as she claimed a viewing spot within their submarine shaped vessel.
“Have you ever been kissed at 135 meters?”
Her audacious question, spoken in a silky whisper, made him smile, and temporarily dispelled the tangled vines of Tamara’s presence. “No, can’t say that I have.”
Playfully coy, she issued a regretful sound. “If only we were alone so I could take that particular item off your bucket list.”
The Eye made a slow, steady lift into the sky and a spectacular view of the British Telecom Building came to life along with an enchanting sea of lights that seemed to stretch on to forever. Punctuating the flats and curves were dots of architectural history like Westminster Abbey and the Tower Bridge.
Their host kicked off an official introduction. “Good evening ladies and gentlemen, and welcome aboard. Taking you to a height of 135 meters, the London Eye—some still might refer to it as the Millennium Wheel—is the largest cantilevered observation wheel in the world. Designed by Marks Barfield Architects, the structure was constructed in sections which were floated up the Thames on barges and assembled lying flat on piled platforms that were stationed in the river…”
The speech continued. Jackson tried to pay attention, tried to remain focused on a stunning nighttime display, but his attention kept drifting to Tamara. She was at the opposite end of the capsule, but that didn’t diminish her impact. That didn’t protect him from the way she kept tabs on him as well, a speculative, inscrutable expression on her face.
He had no idea what she might be up to.
“You know? I can see precisely where your gaze is leading you.” Vanessa turned toward him and deliberately blocked his sideways view while sipping from her flute. “Don’t go there. You’ve nothing to worry about.”
“Nothing except a reputation and work ethic I’ve worked all my life to maintain and uphold.”
“Successfully, I might add.” Vanessa surrendered no more than a glance in Tamara’s direction. “Pity the same won’t be said about her if she tries to be underhanded.”
Jackson flattened a palm against the glass encasement, grateful for the coolness against his skin and fingertips. Re-focused on the view, he continued to fight an inner battle. “You and Peter have been fantastic, but you know who and what I am. You operate from a point of established trust and confidence. Not so this group of people who don’t know me at all.”
“Yet.”
“Yet.” He tapped his glass lightly against hers. “All the same, I’m trying to build relationships, and work with these people. Poison in the water can—”
“Can be diluted with anti-serum.”
For an instant, he stared, then a smile flashed wide, swift and real—from
“Thank goodness for food markers, otherwise I’d be clueless.”
“The food is delicious, so be daring.”
Easy enough for her to say; selections included such items as herbed goat cheese on focaccia bread. There was also an offering of green pea cake with lemon cream cheese, poached sea trout and avruga.
“I think I’ll stick with a few red pepper blini’s with smoked chicken. I figure that’s daring yet—”
“Safe at the same time.” Vanessa’s playful snicker tempted him to try a sweet potato croute with pork pâté that had been lightly drizzled with rhubarb chutney. Vanessa met that selection with an approving nod. “Bravo.”
Sumptuous food offerings were highlighted at perfectly spaced intervals by the decorative touch of low, round, white china vases. Each narrow neck sported a single, perfect bloom of red poinsettia. The ascent upon London’s iconic Ferris wheel began with barely a shift of motion. Jackson plucked a pair of bubbling champagne flutes from the table and offered one to Vanessa, trailing after her as she claimed a viewing spot within their submarine shaped vessel.
“Have you ever been kissed at 135 meters?”
Her audacious question, spoken in a silky whisper, made him smile, and temporarily dispelled the tangled vines of Tamara’s presence. “No, can’t say that I have.”
Playfully coy, she issued a regretful sound. “If only we were alone so I could take that particular item off your bucket list.”
The Eye made a slow, steady lift into the sky and a spectacular view of the British Telecom Building came to life along with an enchanting sea of lights that seemed to stretch on to forever. Punctuating the flats and curves were dots of architectural history like Westminster Abbey and the Tower Bridge.
Their host kicked off an official introduction. “Good evening ladies and gentlemen, and welcome aboard. Taking you to a height of 135 meters, the London Eye—some still might refer to it as the Millennium Wheel—is the largest cantilevered observation wheel in the world. Designed by Marks Barfield Architects, the structure was constructed in sections which were floated up the Thames on barges and assembled lying flat on piled platforms that were stationed in the river…”
The speech continued. Jackson tried to pay attention, tried to remain focused on a stunning nighttime display, but his attention kept drifting to Tamara. She was at the opposite end of the capsule, but that didn’t diminish her impact. That didn’t protect him from the way she kept tabs on him as well, a speculative, inscrutable expression on her face.
He had no idea what she might be up to.
“You know? I can see precisely where your gaze is leading you.” Vanessa turned toward him and deliberately blocked his sideways view while sipping from her flute. “Don’t go there. You’ve nothing to worry about.”
“Nothing except a reputation and work ethic I’ve worked all my life to maintain and uphold.”
“Successfully, I might add.” Vanessa surrendered no more than a glance in Tamara’s direction. “Pity the same won’t be said about her if she tries to be underhanded.”
Jackson flattened a palm against the glass encasement, grateful for the coolness against his skin and fingertips. Re-focused on the view, he continued to fight an inner battle. “You and Peter have been fantastic, but you know who and what I am. You operate from a point of established trust and confidence. Not so this group of people who don’t know me at all.”
“Yet.”
“Yet.” He tapped his glass lightly against hers. “All the same, I’m trying to build relationships, and work with these people. Poison in the water can—”
“Can be diluted with anti-serum.”
For an instant, he stared, then a smile flashed wide, swift and real—from
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