Think About Love Read Online Free Page A

Vancouver, taking the ferry to Vancouver Island?"
    "You know Nanaimo?"
    "I can even spell it. I did a cycling tour about fifteen years ago. The Canadian Gulf Islands: Galiano, Salt Spring, and Gabriola."
    "My grandmother lives on Gabriola," she said before she could filter the words. "I grew up there."
    "I didn't know." He leaned forward, curiosity in his eyes. "How did you go from being a Canadian kid to an American woman?"
    "Dual citizenship. Look, I need to leave. I’ve got my cell. If there's anything you need tomorrow, just call."
    "What time do you expect to arrive in Nanaimo?"
    "Two-thirty in the afternoon." She put her napkin neatly on the table beside her plate, pushed her chair back.
    "We'll go in the chopper. We'll leave at noon. The flight will be less than two hours, but we should allow some time for customs."
    She couldn't spend two hours in Cal's helicopter, two hours worrying about Kippy and Dorothy, with Cal right there, watching. "I don't need—You have other things to do."
    "You know damned well there's nothing for me to do but wait for Friday. It’s driving me nuts."
    Flustered, she shook her head and felt strands of hair coming loose. "I need my car when I get there."
    "I'm sure a competent M.B.A. like Samantha Jones can manage to rent a car at the Nanaimo airport."
    He had her trapped. She was half standing, the urge to run pumping through her veins, and she realized suddenly just how out of proportion her response was. As if Cal were threatening her, instead of offering help.
    "You' re right." She forced her voice to calm appreciation. "I'll arrange a car rental. I'll see you tomorrow at noon." She stepped back, pushed her chair into the table, and even managed a smile as she picked up her portable computer and handbag. "Thank you for dinner. I'll take a taxi back to my car."  
    When he stood, she held up a hand to still his automatic protest. "I'd rather."
    She could tell from the itching along her spine that he watched her walk out of the restaurant, that his eyes didn't leave her until she turned out of sight and reached for the door.

Chapter Three

    Samantha expected the helicopter ride to be an agony of persistent questions from Cal, blended with her apprehension about flying.
    She'd messed up yesterday, telling him she needed to go away. Somehow, she'd stirred his curiosity. Usually his curiosity focused on computer matters—on questioning executives about their needs, exploring new ways of making computers serve people, taking apart his new electronic organizer to examine the circuitry.
    His curiosity was the driving force behind Tremaine Software. She'd occasionally seen it trained on a person, had sat in airports with him, enjoying his speculations about passersby. She'd always been grateful that when he trained that curiosity on her, it was limited to questions like: Why did you decide on the open house? What makes you believe it's a better solution than the employment agency we used before?
    After last night's personal questions, she'd prepared herself for more, rehearsed her lines. I prefer not to discuss my personal life. I appreciate the ride, Cal, hut it doesn't give you the right to question me.
    She was ready for him, but the only question he asked was, "Did you arrange the car rental?"  
    "Yes."  
    "Good."  
    She fastened her seat belt and watched him walk around the helicopter before settling in the pilot's seat. She took five careful, deep breaths, concentrating on relaxing her body to escape the tension that had accompanied any sort of flying since last December.
    "All set?"  
    "Yes."
    She wondered if she'd be in Nanaimo early enough to slip up to the hospital before she met the lawyer, early enough to see Dorothy for herself before she listened to whatever the social worker had to say. She needed to know if her grandmother was telling the truth about her minor medical problem. If it was only indigestion, why would Dorothy be hospitalized?
    This morning she'd called June at