Eden's Dream Read Online Free

didn’t mean to offend you. It’s just the accent’s usually a giveaway.”
    â€œOh.” The word whooshed out. Now she planned on giving him as good as he’d given her. “All right, Mr. Smart Alec, it’s your turn. Where are you from? And don’t give me this business about here, there, and everywhere.”
    The seconds ticked by. At first she thought he wasn’t going to answer, then finally, “You were close last evening.” He scooped Kahlua off her lap and abruptly stood. “Now that you’ve seen the living room, want to see the rest of the house?”
    She was too busy processing information to answer right off. Close? Did that mean Maryland? Eventually she focused on his question, nodding. She’d always loved houses, the more unique, the better. What seemed like a lifetime ago she’d had aspirations of becoming an architect. Over the years she’d modified that dream, deciding that interior design might be more realistic. Now Rod’s untimely death had put an end to those hopes. With no one to help her, school would hardly be an option. A hectic work schedule didn’t allow for both.
    â€œI’d love to,” Eden said at last, realizing this might be her only opportunity. Most likely she’d never see the inside of Noel’s house again. She didn’t plan on getting tight with him.
    â€œSo what do you do?” Noel’s question penetrated.
    Eden shot him a quizzical look. He discouraged inquiries of a personal nature but was interested in her life? “Right now nothing,” she answered.
    â€œOh?”
    They’d entered a sterile-looking kitchen. Noel made a sweeping gesture. “My kitchen. A place that hardly gets used.’
    Eden bit the insides of her cheek so as not to smile. She took in the pristine granite and remembered the stacks of TV dinners piled into his shopping cart last evening. Graciously she said, “You do make good coffee, though.”
    A flash of white acknowledged the compliment. The cleft at his chin was even more pronounced. She’d seen his handsome face someplace before. Where? And she’d heard the name Noah Robbins.
    Quickly, Noel guided her across wooden floors and down a long hallway. Every inch of wall space was covered by ornately framed works of art. Originals she’d guess, judging by the signatures. Recognizing the work of Lee White, America’s foremost black artist, Eden stopped to admire several pieces.
    Noticing Eden’s interest in White’s rendition of mother and child, Noel said, “You must like art.”
    â€œOnly if it speaks to me.”
    He quirked an eyebrow. “Does that piece speak to you?”
    â€œVery much.”
    They’d come to a closed door. Noel threw the door wide. “I think of this as my library.” His gesture included an austere room where a burgundy-leather couch dominated. A bookcase held what easily had to be hundreds of books. Against one wall were unfinished pieces of furniture.
    Spotting a handsome armoire, Eden headed over to it. “Is that your work?” She moved in closer, running a hand over the rough wood. “Nice.”
    Noel beamed his thanks and quickly changed the topic. “What did you do when you worked?”
    Why was he so interested? Having nothing to hide, she answered him honestly. “I’m a quality assurance supervisor for Pelican Air. I’m on a leave of absence, taking stock of my life.”
    Noel perched on the sofa, his arms folded across his chest. “How come?”
    â€œHow come what?”
    â€œHow come you’re taking stock of your life?”
    His directness surprised her, and though several months had passed, she found it difficult to put her feelings into words. Still, maybe telling her story to a virtual stranger with no preconceived notions would be therapeutic. It certainly wouldn’t hurt. She chose her words carefully.
    â€œI lost the