Free Gift of Fortune by Ilsa Mayr Page A

mentor showed her
to be alert and bright-eyed.
    "No, I can't say that I've noticed Steve's mouth." But
Aileen was quite sure that if Dora had handed her a piece
of paper and a pencil, she would have been able to sketch
an accurate image of Quint's mouth. This was not good.
    "Well, I have yet to meet a man whose lips have that
downward slant who wasn't given to fits of petulance and
whining," Dora said with authority. "And those are not appealing qualities in a man. Or in a woman."
    "No, they are not," Aileen agreed. What would Dora say
about Quint? He didn't have a droopy mouth, and his
hands, though strong and rough from work, were not brutallooking.
    "Tell me about Quint," Dora requested.
    "He doesn't look anything like Steve."
    Dora leaned forward. "Does he have those sexy, dark,
smoldering Latino looks?"
    "His eyes are green. Like his father's." Aileen wasn't
ready to talk about Quint. She took a last sip of tea and
rose. "I must go or I'll be late for homeroom. Call me if
you need anything." Aileen rushed from the room, but not
quick enough to miss Dora's final question.
    "When are you going to bring Quint to meet me?"
    Aileen stopped in her tracks. She knew she couldn't keep
him a secret forever. It was amazing that not more people
had found out about him already.
    "I'll bring him soon," she promised.
    Quint curried Sweepstake until the stallion's coat
gleamed. Then he looked around the stable, but there was
nothing else for him to do. He could no longer put off going
to the house.

    Hunching his shoulders against the rain, he sprinted
across the yard. He didn't see Aileen's briefcase and purse
in their usual place and felt relieved. She wasn't home yet.
Quint wasn't sure, though, whether he was more relieved
or disappointed. At least he had time to clean up. After a
quick shower and a change of clothes, he hurried to the
kitchen.
    Aileen arrived just as he was adjusting the seasoning of
the chili. "Here, taste this and tell me what you think."
Quint dipped a spoon into the chili and handed it to Aileen.
"Careful, it's hot." He would hate to see her sweet mouth
get burned. He watched her blow on the chili.
    "How is it? Too spicy?"
    "I like spicy. It's good." She licked the spoon. "Actually,
it's very good."
    "Or maybe you're just hungry."
    "Both," she admitted with a smile. "It's been a long day
and our aerobics instructor really worked us hard." Aileen
took her raincoat off. Though Quint hadn't said anything,
she sensed he was dying to do so. "What?"
    "Men should erect a monument to the guy who invented
spandex."
    "How do you know it wasn't a woman?" she demanded.
    "Let me restate this. Men should erect a monument to
whoever invented spandex."
    Aileen pretended to be indifferent to his implied compliment, but inwardly she was smiling. "Do I have time to
look through the mail before we eat?"
    "You have until the noodles are cooked. We're having
chili mac. You want chopped onions and cheese on top of
yours?"
    "Neither, thanks, but I will cut up carrots and celery so
we have something crunchy on the side."
    Quint grinned at her. "I wondered if you'd fix a salad."

    Aileen raised an eyebrow. "When you live to a healthy,
ripe old age with all your teeth in your mouth and all your
hair on your head, you will thank me."
    His grin widened.
    "What?"
    "You tossed your hair again. But I like it," he added
hastily. And that was the problem. He liked the gesture too
much. It made him want to reach out and stroke those
silken tresses. Curl his fingers around them. Lift them off
her delicate neck and.... Don't even go there, he warned
himself. Some men went crazy over legs; some got turned
on by bosoms. With him it was a lovely neck that made
his blood hum.
    Quint lifted the lid and stirred the noodles. Fortunately,
Aileen was busy cutting carrots into sticks. She couldn't
have sensed his hot preoccupation with her hair and her
neck. Then he frowned. Something in her comment had