Witchy Woman Read Online Free Page B

an interesting angle to explore.
    “Have you eaten?” he asked Tess as they browsed among the fussy-looking displays at the Picket Fence. He noticed that although she looked at things with lively attention, she held her slender hands behind her back, rarely touching anything.
    “Now that you mention it, Judy and I got so involved with the shopping that we forgot to eat. I’m famished.”
    “There’s a great sandwich shop across the street. Let me buy you lunch. I’ll charge it off to the magazine—professional consulting fee.”
    She laughed at that. “Some consultant. I haven’tfound anything interesting for your story except some slightly overpriced furniture.”
    “Hey, we’ve only just started. Who knows, in the next store we might find a fake Chippendale or a forged Picasso lithograph.”
    “Uh-huh.” She looked skeptically down her aristocratic little nose at him—as best she could, since he was almost a head taller than she was. Then she laughed again.
    Her laughter caused a pleasurable sensation to ripple down his spine and settle in a more provocative area. How could mere laughter have that much kick? he wondered as they headed out into the bright October sunshine and crossed Newbury.
    The street was crowded with shoppers eager to sample the finery inside the many pricey boutiques. The sandwich shop was crowded, too, and Nate and Tess waited in line at the counter for several minutes. He stood close enough behind her that he could smell her hair. Fascinated by the light, herbal fragrance, he was on the verge of asking her what shampoo she used.
    His decision not to act on his attraction was rapidly crumbling.
    Finally the woman behind the counter was ready to take their order. Despite Nate’s insistence that Tess splurge on whatever she wanted, she limited herself to a grilled-cheese sandwich, a cup of tomato soup, and mineral water. Surely she wasn’t dieting, he thought. She was already so slender, he could easily span her waist with his hands. That little bit of imagery did nothing to bolster his resolve.
    “So,” she said when they finally were seated at a table by the window, “what else do you know about phony antiques?”
    Nate was ready for this one. He had actually done some reading on the subject, and he was half-serious about writing the story. “It’s a big racket right now, and often as not, the shop owners are as victimized as the customers. Big-time dealers make up fakes by the hundreds, then sell them one at a time to the shops, never too many in any one area.”
    “So poor little Anne-Louise probably doesn’t know that her vase is phony.”
    “Right.”
    “That’s good. She seems like a nice lady.”
    “Oh, she is. In fact, she took it quite personally when you and Judy left without buying the stone panther.”
    Tess visibly shivered.
    “Hey, what is it with you and that statue?” he asked, remembering her reaction to the cat. She had actually backed away from it, as if it were some loathsome creature.
    “I just thought it was ugly,” she said offhandedly. Her manner wasn’t convincing.
    “But beauty is in the eye of the beholder, isn’t it? And Judy liked it. Why didn’t you let her buy it?”
    “It’s like I told her—that cat was not an appropriate present for an elderly maiden aunt.” She took a sip of her drink and stared out the window, a pensive look on her face. “Probably would have frightened the old girl into a case of the vapors.”
    “Yeah, maybe you’re right,” he said thoughtfully. “It wouldn’t look good sitting among pots of African violets and crocheted doilies. A statue like that would appeal more to a man, I guess.”
    “Mmm,” she said, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. “As a matter of fact, I kind of liked it. Maybe I’ll buy it myself.”
    “No.” A definite look of panic flashed through her eyes, then was gone. “It’s not a good buy. All that stuff about the palace of Versailles was nonsense. I’ve seen lots of statues