The Mating Season [antikvár]

The couple walked unhurriedly along the curved corridor of the airport terminál. Tall and willowy, the woman was unconscious of the attention she was receiving from the men she passed. Her ash blond hair, a little longer than shoulder Iength, was cut in a windblown style that framed her face and its features of picture perfection.Her jeans were of polished cotton in a bold, jade green color. A sweater jacket of black suede and knit was belted at the waist, permitting only a glimpse of her green and blaek print blouse, which was open at the throat. Her black boots were high heeled, clicking on the polished floor.The man at her side matched her graceful, long-legged strides. He was only an inch or so tallér than she was. His gray topcoat carried an expen-sive label inside, as did the charcoal suit beneath it. With dark, almost black hair, he was as good-looking as she was in a polished sort of way.As they approached a newsstand in the terminál he caught her hand and drew her inside to the mag-. azine rack. Standing out among all the magazines was the cover of a fashion magaziné. ít was a por-trait, caught forever by the camera, of the woman now gazing at it. Glistening lips held the hint of a