Книга Lone eagle — читать онлайн бесплатно полностью

And a moment later, Clarke introduced Joe to his wife. He seemed shy, but very polite. And it was obvious that they were all ready to leave. Without a moment's hesitation, as they wandered toward the door, Clarke handed Joe his card. “Call us if you ever come to Boston,” he said hospitably, and Joe thanked him. “We'll see if we can take you up on your offer, or if nothing else, I will.” And with that, he gave Joe a wink, and the younger man laughed, as Kate smiled. Her father seemed to like Joe a lot. A moment later, Joe shook hands with her father, and said he was going to see if he could find Charles.

He knew his mentor didn't like parties any better than he did, he was probably hiding somewhere, and it was hard to find anyone in the crowd. There were still at least five hundred people there, wandering between the house and the heated tent outside. And then, after saying goodnight to her mother, Joe turned to Kate.

“I enjoyed having dinner with you,” he said with eyes that bored into hers. They were like deep blue glowing coals.

“I hope to see you again sometime.” He sounded as though he meant it, and she smiled. Of all the people she had met that night, he was the only one who had impressed her, by quite a lot. There was something very rare and remarkable about him, and she knew by the end of the evening that she had met an extraordinary man.

“Good luck in California,” she said softly, wondering if their paths would ever cross again. She was not at all sure he would call. He didn't seem like the type.

He had his own world, his own passion, considerable success in his field, and it was unlikely that he would pursue a seventeen-year-old girl. In fact, she was almost certain, just from talking to him, that he would not.

“Thank you, Kate,” he answered. “I hope you get into Radcliffe. I'm sure you will. They'll be lucky to have you, whether your father went to Harvard or not.” He shook her hand then, and this time it was Kate who lowered her eyes under the intensity of his gaze. It was as though he were examining her in every detail, to carve her into his memory.

It was an odd feeling, but as he did it, she felt irresistibly drawn to him by a force that was impossible to resist.

“Thank you,” she whispered. And then, with a small awkward bow in her direction, he turned, and disappeared into the crowd to look for Charles."

"“He's a remarkable man,” Clarke said admiringly, as they slowly made their way out, and retrieved their coats at the door.