[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
three and five a lot.'
He'd noticed that? Yes, she thought, smiling inwardly. He'd have
counted them. 'Odd numbers give a better balance.'
'And you cut some stems shorter than others?'
'They have to be in proportion...'
Jas smiled. 'And if the design doesn't live up to your concept, you
discard flowers that don't fit and try something else. It's exactly what I
do with numbers when I'm testing a hypothesis.'
Blythe's eyes widened. 'Mathematical theory is like flower
arranging?' she asked incredulously.
'And arranging flowers is an exercise in mathematics numbers and
proportions and patterns.'
'Good heavens!'
He smiled at her and then glanced away. 'It's a mistake to start me on
that.'
'I told you, I like listening to you.' It was the only subject on which he
was eloquent. The rest of the time he might have been a close relative
of an oyster.
A seagull had settled on the solitary gatepost, eyeing them
expectantly. Jas tossed a crust onto the grass, and the bird scooped it
up. 'Women usually find it the most boring subject on earth.'
'Haven't there been women mathematicians?' Blythe felt bound to
defend her gender.
'Very good ones,' Jas admitted. 'Sophie Germain was born in the
eighteenth century and she's still remembered for her theories on
acoustics and electricity. Without her and other mathematicians
radio, TV, your cellphone, might never have been invented.' Jas
pushed the sandwich plate towards her. There was one left.
'I don't need any more.'
'Sure?' He hesitated, then picked it up.
'Your notions are going to last a lot longer than mine,' she
commented, resting her chin on one hand as she leaned forward and
turned her head to him. 'If you crack this theorem of yours, will you
be famous?'
Jas gave a small laugh. 'Perhaps, among my colleagues, present and
future. That doesn't make yours unimportant. I don't think
mathematics has yet found a way to measure the value of transient
human pleasure.'
'Or of emotions?'
He smiled, and reached out his hand to tuck a stray curl behind her
ear, his fingers lingering against her skin. 'Right.'
Blythe tilted her head so that her cheek nestled into his open palm,
and placed her own hand over his. 'You weren't doing mathematical
calculations in your head last night?'
Jas laughed again and shook his head. 'Were you planning a floral
arrangement?' He moved his hand to tip her chin and bring her
towards him as he leaned over and lowered his mouth to hers.
It was a brief kiss, but full of promise and expectation. When he drew
away Blythe felt warm and sparkly all over, and knew it showed in
her eyes. 'I suppose I'd better get back,' she said regretfully. 'There's
lots still to be done.'
'Do you need help?' Her parents hadn't come today; she'd told them
she could manage now.
It was tempting to say yes, just to have him by her side. He even
looked quite hopeful, she thought. But she had no right to take him
from his own work. 'I'm getting there,' she told him. 'You go on
solving the riddles of the universe.' She leaned across and kissed his
cheek, where an intriguing little crease had briefly appeared, then got
up to collect cups and the plate.
'I'll do those,' he said.
'What would you like for dinner?'
'Whatever you want to cook is fine by me.'
'You're an easy man to please.'
'I am,' he said, squinting up at her, his gaze slipping over her with an
intimacy that brought a faint flush to her cheeks, 'when it's you doing
the pleasing.'
Blythe laughed at him and went away.
Before going back to Jas's house that evening Blythe went to pick
grasses on the beach. As she was leaving a couple of motorbikes
came noisily down the track.
The riders wore black helmets and leathers, and one had a pillion
passenger. Blythe kept walking, lifting a casual hand as they
approached.
The bikes suddenly swung from the track, circling her, and she
stopped dead, apprehension rising in her throat. One skidded to a halt
in front of her, and the other bike was behind her when the engine was
cut.
'Hi, Blythe.'
She swung round, saw the pillion rider getting off, removing his
helmet, and almost choked with relief. 'Shawn! You guys scared me!'
He gave her a sheepish grin. His companion kicked the stand of his
bike into place and swung his legs to the ground, leaning on the
machine as he pulled off his helmet. He looked a couple of years
older than Shawn, broader and stocky, and Blythe stiffened and
flushed under his insolently sexual stare. Instinctively she glanced at
the other rider, still astride his machine. Through the visor that
darkened his face she could feel his gaze, hot and predatory.
Her head went up. 'Introduce me to your friends, Shawn,' she
suggested.
Looking bothered, he muttered, 'Vince,' indicating the one beside
him. 'And Bruiser.'
Bruiser. Great.
Vince hung his helmet on the handlebar. 'Shawn says you live up
there.' He jerked his head. 'On your own.'
The back of her neck prickled. Cautiously she said, 'Not at the
moment. It was damaged in the cyclone.'
'Yeah,' he said. 'Reckons you're his girlfriend.'
'He ' What? 'Shawn?' She looked at him.
Shawn gave her a sickly grin, his eyes pleading.
Oh, lord. How to get out of this without humiliating the silly boy?
Taking a quick breath, she said briskly, 'Well, that's our business. I'm
working tonight, I'm afraid. I'll' see you another time, Shawn,' she
added, warning him this wasn't the end of it.
Purposefully she made to walk past, but Bruiser stood up and stepped
in front of her.
She froze, standing her ground but frightened. Then the first rider
joined his friend, shoulder to leather- clad shoulder. 'What's the
hurry? You could come with us,' Vince invited, grinning down at her.
'No, thanks.'
'Aw, come on.' Vince's closed, tattooed fist rubbed against her cheek.
'We could have a good time.'
She forced herself not to flinch. 'No.'
'Hey, guys...' Shawn said uncertainly.
Vince looked past her. 'We're your mates, Shawn.'
' Yeah... but '
'Mates share,' Vince said flatly.
Blythe went cold all over. She heard Shawn say something, and then
felt his hand on her shoulder, his arm about her. He was trembling.
'No!' he said, his voice cracking. 'No, you can't '
'Is there a problem here?' Jas's deep calm voice broke in. 'Blythe?'
Vince and his companion swung round. Shawn fell back a step,
taking Blythe with him.
'Any of your business?' Vince demanded.
'Possibly.' Jas stood a few feet away, his hands in the pockets of his
parka. He looked even taller than usual, his shoulders wider. 'Blythe?'
His eyes beckoned her, and she slipped out of Shawn's slackening
hold and walked towards him.
Vince moved, and Jas took his hands from his pockets. He met [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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three and five a lot.'
He'd noticed that? Yes, she thought, smiling inwardly. He'd have
counted them. 'Odd numbers give a better balance.'
'And you cut some stems shorter than others?'
'They have to be in proportion...'
Jas smiled. 'And if the design doesn't live up to your concept, you
discard flowers that don't fit and try something else. It's exactly what I
do with numbers when I'm testing a hypothesis.'
Blythe's eyes widened. 'Mathematical theory is like flower
arranging?' she asked incredulously.
'And arranging flowers is an exercise in mathematics numbers and
proportions and patterns.'
'Good heavens!'
He smiled at her and then glanced away. 'It's a mistake to start me on
that.'
'I told you, I like listening to you.' It was the only subject on which he
was eloquent. The rest of the time he might have been a close relative
of an oyster.
A seagull had settled on the solitary gatepost, eyeing them
expectantly. Jas tossed a crust onto the grass, and the bird scooped it
up. 'Women usually find it the most boring subject on earth.'
'Haven't there been women mathematicians?' Blythe felt bound to
defend her gender.
'Very good ones,' Jas admitted. 'Sophie Germain was born in the
eighteenth century and she's still remembered for her theories on
acoustics and electricity. Without her and other mathematicians
radio, TV, your cellphone, might never have been invented.' Jas
pushed the sandwich plate towards her. There was one left.
'I don't need any more.'
'Sure?' He hesitated, then picked it up.
'Your notions are going to last a lot longer than mine,' she
commented, resting her chin on one hand as she leaned forward and
turned her head to him. 'If you crack this theorem of yours, will you
be famous?'
Jas gave a small laugh. 'Perhaps, among my colleagues, present and
future. That doesn't make yours unimportant. I don't think
mathematics has yet found a way to measure the value of transient
human pleasure.'
'Or of emotions?'
He smiled, and reached out his hand to tuck a stray curl behind her
ear, his fingers lingering against her skin. 'Right.'
Blythe tilted her head so that her cheek nestled into his open palm,
and placed her own hand over his. 'You weren't doing mathematical
calculations in your head last night?'
Jas laughed again and shook his head. 'Were you planning a floral
arrangement?' He moved his hand to tip her chin and bring her
towards him as he leaned over and lowered his mouth to hers.
It was a brief kiss, but full of promise and expectation. When he drew
away Blythe felt warm and sparkly all over, and knew it showed in
her eyes. 'I suppose I'd better get back,' she said regretfully. 'There's
lots still to be done.'
'Do you need help?' Her parents hadn't come today; she'd told them
she could manage now.
It was tempting to say yes, just to have him by her side. He even
looked quite hopeful, she thought. But she had no right to take him
from his own work. 'I'm getting there,' she told him. 'You go on
solving the riddles of the universe.' She leaned across and kissed his
cheek, where an intriguing little crease had briefly appeared, then got
up to collect cups and the plate.
'I'll do those,' he said.
'What would you like for dinner?'
'Whatever you want to cook is fine by me.'
'You're an easy man to please.'
'I am,' he said, squinting up at her, his gaze slipping over her with an
intimacy that brought a faint flush to her cheeks, 'when it's you doing
the pleasing.'
Blythe laughed at him and went away.
Before going back to Jas's house that evening Blythe went to pick
grasses on the beach. As she was leaving a couple of motorbikes
came noisily down the track.
The riders wore black helmets and leathers, and one had a pillion
passenger. Blythe kept walking, lifting a casual hand as they
approached.
The bikes suddenly swung from the track, circling her, and she
stopped dead, apprehension rising in her throat. One skidded to a halt
in front of her, and the other bike was behind her when the engine was
cut.
'Hi, Blythe.'
She swung round, saw the pillion rider getting off, removing his
helmet, and almost choked with relief. 'Shawn! You guys scared me!'
He gave her a sheepish grin. His companion kicked the stand of his
bike into place and swung his legs to the ground, leaning on the
machine as he pulled off his helmet. He looked a couple of years
older than Shawn, broader and stocky, and Blythe stiffened and
flushed under his insolently sexual stare. Instinctively she glanced at
the other rider, still astride his machine. Through the visor that
darkened his face she could feel his gaze, hot and predatory.
Her head went up. 'Introduce me to your friends, Shawn,' she
suggested.
Looking bothered, he muttered, 'Vince,' indicating the one beside
him. 'And Bruiser.'
Bruiser. Great.
Vince hung his helmet on the handlebar. 'Shawn says you live up
there.' He jerked his head. 'On your own.'
The back of her neck prickled. Cautiously she said, 'Not at the
moment. It was damaged in the cyclone.'
'Yeah,' he said. 'Reckons you're his girlfriend.'
'He ' What? 'Shawn?' She looked at him.
Shawn gave her a sickly grin, his eyes pleading.
Oh, lord. How to get out of this without humiliating the silly boy?
Taking a quick breath, she said briskly, 'Well, that's our business. I'm
working tonight, I'm afraid. I'll' see you another time, Shawn,' she
added, warning him this wasn't the end of it.
Purposefully she made to walk past, but Bruiser stood up and stepped
in front of her.
She froze, standing her ground but frightened. Then the first rider
joined his friend, shoulder to leather- clad shoulder. 'What's the
hurry? You could come with us,' Vince invited, grinning down at her.
'No, thanks.'
'Aw, come on.' Vince's closed, tattooed fist rubbed against her cheek.
'We could have a good time.'
She forced herself not to flinch. 'No.'
'Hey, guys...' Shawn said uncertainly.
Vince looked past her. 'We're your mates, Shawn.'
' Yeah... but '
'Mates share,' Vince said flatly.
Blythe went cold all over. She heard Shawn say something, and then
felt his hand on her shoulder, his arm about her. He was trembling.
'No!' he said, his voice cracking. 'No, you can't '
'Is there a problem here?' Jas's deep calm voice broke in. 'Blythe?'
Vince and his companion swung round. Shawn fell back a step,
taking Blythe with him.
'Any of your business?' Vince demanded.
'Possibly.' Jas stood a few feet away, his hands in the pockets of his
parka. He looked even taller than usual, his shoulders wider. 'Blythe?'
His eyes beckoned her, and she slipped out of Shawn's slackening
hold and walked towards him.
Vince moved, and Jas took his hands from his pockets. He met [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]