Can't Take My Eyes Off Of You (v1.2) Read Online Free Page B

relative absence of light, reflexively checking behind him as he closed the door. Maybe he was mostly a desk jockey now, but habits were habits, and good habits could someday keep a guy alive to crunch numbers another day.
    Grady wasn’t behind his oversize cherry desk with its protective glass top, having chosen instead to recline on the burgundy leather sofa that had enough deep tucks in it to look as though it had been sucking three dozen lemons.
    His rangy frame filled the couch from end to end, his shaggy, sandy head propped up on a tapestry pillow, his laughing green eyes shining bright in his tanned, aristocratically handsome face. He wore a stark white dress shirt open at the neck and rolled at the cuffs, a pair of midnight blue pleated slacks, handmade loafers, and a color-coordinated blue sling on his left arm.
    “What happened? She forgot to mention that she was ticklish, and a black belt?” Quinn offered as he walked over and sat down on the edge of the cherry wood coffee table in front of the couch.
    Grady carefully jackknifed to a sitting position, glaring at his friend and partner. “Very funny— not. But then, you didn’t have much time to rehearse, did you? Do you want to go out, think up a better line, then come back in to torture me?”
    “No, not really,” Quinn answered, grinning. “But I’ll give you a quarter if you tell me what happened. A dollar if you’ve got photos. Videotape, and price is no object.”
    Grady reached into his back pocket and pulled out a folded square of snow white linen bearing his initials in navy thread. “Here,” he said, extending his arm, “drool on this.”
    “No, seriously, Grady, what happened? Is it broken or just sprained?”
    “Separated shoulder,” he told him, grimacing as he got up, walked over to his desk, and threw two pills into his mouth, washing them down with a sip of water. “It was the damnedest thing, Quinn. One minute we’re rolling quite happily on the bed, and the next I’m stuck between the bed and the nightstand, my shoulder on fire. Miss October fainted, which wasn’t much of a help, and I had to get my own self up after pushing her off me—stop laughing, damn it!—then call the hotel doctor. Ever try pulling on your pants with one hand, Quinn? I don’t recommend it. And let me tell you, it wasn’t easy boosting Miss O back up onto the bed and getting her lovely little fanny under the covers before the doctor showed up.”
    By the time Grady was finished Quinn was doing a little rolling of his own, rocking on the edge of the coffee table, laughing until tears rolled down his cheeks. Then, with a suddenness that nearly had him falling on the floor, he sobered, glared at his partner. “How long will you be out of commission? Two weeks? Four? And before you answer that, no, I’m not going to take over any more of your R and R gigs. Got that?”
    “No sweat, old son,” Grady promised. “There’s nothing pressing on either of our schedules for weeks and weeks. In fact, maybe you should think about picking up some sort of hobby, just to fill the time.”
    “Yeah, right, Grady, old son. That would be between running this place, doing the end-of-year reports, and spoon-feeding my invalid partner his gruel so that he doesn’t slop all over his designer suits. I’ll be in my office,” Quinn ended, and headed out the door.
    Behind him, he could hear Grady chuckling.

Chapter Six
    After charity balls, Shelby rated garden parties second on her list of her least-favorite things to do. Yet here she was, the afternoon after the ball—and with only a slight headache to remind her of the previous evening—sitting in the back of the limousine in her uniform of the day, her full skirts carefully arranged on the seat, a huge straw picture hat jammed onto her head. Wouldn’t be a proper garden party without that damn picture hat.
    “Jim?”
    “Yes, Miss Take?”
    Shelby scooted over onto the jump seat and leaned forward, closer to the