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Pictures of You by Barbara Delinsky - Fiction
New York Times Bestselling Author
BARBARA DELINSKYPICTURES OF YOU
From America's beloved storyteller, Barbara Delinsky, comes a classic novel of a woman who sets her sights on adventure—and exposes her heart to love...
With one failed marriage behind her—and nothing to look forward to but a much-needed vacation—news photographer Eva Jordenson grabs her camera, claims her husband's airplane ticket, and heads off to Rio de Janeiro. Before she even leaves the airport, she zooms in on a strikingly handsome man who catches her eye with his dark smoldering looks. At her hotel, Eva collapses in bed and dreams of this gorgeous vision of a man. When she awakes, he is there. In the flesh. In her room. And, in the heat of the moment, in her arms. His name is Roberto, a Brazilian guide hired to lead her ex-husband on a search for a legendary gemstone. Now, it is Eva he will lead. Into the wild. To the peaks of passion. And beyond the point of no return...
Previously published as The Passionate Touch by Bonnie Drake
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PICTURES OF YOU (chapter 1)
The bright midmorning sun obligingly poked its golden head from behind the schools of scurrying clouds just as Eva Jordenson lifted the camera to her eye. It had been the first time she had done so since she had left New York the previous evening. In fact, although her camera had been her ever-present, ever-faithful companion of the last few years, she had been unusually neglectful of it during the ordeal of the last month. It had been in the middle of a particularly difficult and challenging assignment that she had received the news of her husband’s illness. She had dropped everything to be with him.
The taste of bitterness was strong in her mouth as she let her mind wander back. Yes, she had dropped everything to be with him, as she had always done during their brief three years of marriage. It had begun as infatuation; she had met Stu while she was at college and had immediately fallen for his breathtaking good looks, his undeniable charm as a ladies’ man, and his apparent success in the business, owned by his family, which he had entered directly from business school andhad managed to turn into a multimillion-dollar enterprise within a few short years. Stu had swept Eva off her feet, both figuratively and literally, and she had remained thus until the shattering day when she first realized that it had always been, and would continue to be, Stu’s habit of sweeping attractive young women off their feet
Now, as she gazed through the view finder at her surroundings in this small airport in Belo Horizonte, she wondered if Brazil would take her far enough away from the multitude of emotions she had suffered with these past weeks. Would she ever be able to shed the mantle of guilt that threatened to dominate her future for years to come? She had badly needed to get away, to escape the overpowering atmosphere of mourning which had filled each day since Stu’s death. But was she strong enough to free her mind from its burden, as she had done to her body by boldly ignoring the indignant protests of her late husband’s family and making use of the reservation which Stu had originally made for himself aboard the Pan Am jet to Rio de Janeiro?
The flight from Kennedy had been long, though uneventful. Upon her arrival at Rio’s Galeão Airport, Eva had risked life and limb by taking a taxi across town. Never again would she voice one word of complaint about New York taxi drivers; the harrowing ride here in Rio, seemingly run-of-the-mill from the looks of the other drivers on th road, had certainly diverted Eva’s mind from her private battle for a few minutes. It was with a weak though heartfelt sigh of relief that Eva had stepped safely from the taxi at Santos Dumont Airport, knowing that no amount of fear of flying could equal the tension in the brief ride she had just taken.
Once she had boarded the Trans-Brasil plane, it hadbeen a comfortable shuttle from Rio to Belo. A full-course meal had been graciously served, along with a glass of native Brazilian wine, which, to Eva’s mildly though by no means expertly trained palate, was as rich-bodied as any she had tasted. The wine had begun to dull her senses when she was brought gently back to earth by the cafèzinho which had topped off the menu. Never before an admirer of espresso of any form, Eva had found much enjoyment in this rich, sweet, very strong black coffee.
Thus, she had emerged from the plane at Belo in a most composed manner, one which continued to grace her as she put in her request at the appropriate desk for a driver to take her on the last leg of her journey. It had only been during the leisure...
Pictures of YouBy: Barbara Delinsky