Never Say Never by Linda Hill Page A

held it out for my inspection.
    “Much better.”
    She turned it around and held it to my chest. “Hold it up so I can see.”
    Embarrassed, I did as she asked, trying not to shrink under her scrutiny. Her eyes traveled up and down, from my face back to the shirt.
    “Perfect,” she announced, a satisfied grin on her face. “This color is really good on you. It brings out the color of your eyes.”
    “My eyes?”
    “Yeah. They’re blue.” She tugged the shirt from my grasp and leaned closer until barely six inches separated us. Her eyelids dropped, and she smiled lazily at my discomfort. “I suppose you thought I never noticed.” If I didn’t know better, I would have thought she was flirting with me.
    “Would you like me to tell you some other things I’ve noticed about you? Her eyes never left mine as a slow, seductive smile crept to her lips. Her green eyes were bright as she tipped her head to one side, daring me to call her bluff. At least I thought that’s what she was doing.
    “You’re playing with me.” The words spilled unchecked, sounding as incredulous as I felt. I could feel the color rise in my cheeks.
    “Playing with you?” The grin widened. Sara was feigning ignorance.
    “Toying,” I offered, relieved.
    Her voice dropped even lower. “I wouldn’t have the slightest idea how to toy with a lesbian.” her face remained teasing, coaxing.
    I watched her for a moment, studying those huge eyes and beautiful white teeth.
    “Somehow Sara,” I told her, in a voice that I hoped equaled her tone. “I’m sure you’d do just fine.” The words sounded like a challenge, even to my own ears.
    Our eyes locked. We were so close I could hear her breathing, smell her light perfume. For the first time ever, I noticed the ring of gold flecks that circled the green of her eyes, the splatter of light freckles across the bridge of her nose. Those full lips, slightly parted, looked so soft, so wet. If I lean over just a bit . . .
    But her smile faltered and she drew back a little, her face closing. The air seemed heavy, oppressive. The moment was gone. Silence stretched. Uncomfortable silence. I grasped for a way out, to save face.
    “I’ll take it.” I reached out and grabbed the shirt from her hands. “Come on. I still have to find some pants, and you have a plane to catch.” I turned and headed for a display near the front of the store, feeling her right behind me as I went.
    I settled on a pair of brushed cotton khaki pants and bought both items without trying them on. Sara reacted by telling me that I wasn’t being a very sensible shopper, and admonished me nonstop as we made our way across the parking lot and back to the hotel. When we reached our rooms, she insisted that I try on the outfit for her inspection.
    “Open your side. I’m coming over,” she told me. It had gotten to the point over the last week that the doors connecting our rooms were always open. I flipped the latch on my side and heaved my shopping bag onto the bed. I did a quick check to see if the message light was flashing on the phone, but it wasn’t lit.
    My alarm clock flashed six-fifteen. Michelle would be there at seven.
    I could hear Sara behind me, and I flopped down on the bed and turned to face her. “I almost forgot,” she was saying, “I need to run downstairs and get some wrapping paper. Want to tag along?”
    “No. I’ve got to hurry and get ready to go. What time’s your flight?”
    Her eyes flew open briefly. “I almost forgot. Seven forty-five. I’ll run down and be right back.” I nodded and she disappeared behind the door. A moment later I heard the sound of the hallway door opening and closing.
    Once alone, I pulled my new clothes from the shopping bag and laid them on the bed, inspecting them for wrinkles. To my relief, there were no telltale signs that either had just been purchased. There wasn’t time for a shower, though, so I stripped off the skirt and blouse I was wearing and slipped into