Pictures of You by Barbara Delinsky

color coordinated perfectly with the floral print of her dress. Now the younger dark-haired man glanced up and spotted her, a warm smile overspreading his features as he jumped out of his relaxed stance against the window frame and came forward to greet her.
    â€œMrs. Jordenson, welcome!” he began, the warmth of his smile echoed in his soft voice and immediately spreading to Eva, who had felt some trepidation at confronting her fellow travelers for the first time. Relieved to hear English automatically spoken, she extended her hand to meet his firm grasp, finding comfort in his sincerity. It dawned on her that he must be an insider here, to have expected her, even known her name on such short notice.
    â€œI’m Paul Sanders. I don’t believe you know any of the others.” He drew her confidently into the room toward them, one hand remaining lightly at her back as he made the introductions.
    â€œEva Jordenson … Jacques Laurent.” He gestured toward the auburn-haired man, his name confirming her suspicion of his origin. The latter smiled easily, his eyes lighting his features as he took her hand in his.

    â€œI’m very pleased to meet you, Eva. And very pleased you’ll be joining us,” he added in beautifully accented English, a twinkle in his eye to match the image of the debonair Parisian.
    Paul’s hand gestured again. “Pierre Langelier,” he moved on, the second Frenchman nodding in silent acknowledgment but making no movement toward her other than the ominous glare his eyes threw in her direction. Quickly, as if to escape some impending disaster, Eva turned her attention to the final face, that of the sandy-haired young man, who had now arisen from his seat to greet her.
    â€œTom Allen … Mrs. Jordenson.” Was it a hint of warning which Eva detected in this last, more formal introduction? Shrugging it off as her imagination, she met the smile and the hand which were offered.
    â€œHow are you, Tom?” she added warmly.
    â€œAh, she has a voice!” burst back Tom, his infectious grin setting the tone. “I’m just fine, now that you’re here. Do you know that my friend Paul, here, had the gall to imply that this was an all-male expedition? Imagine that! Can you see me spending four days in deserted mountains with only these faces for company?” As he looked in mock panic from one face to the other, Eva laughed aloud, the first time she had done so in ages, she realized. Yes, this trip would be good for her!
    Returning his friendly banter, she explained, “It was a last-minute decision on my part to come, so Paul was not entirely mistaken. As a photographer, I couldn’t turn down the opportunity.” She carefully avoided the hint of any other reasons for her presence. “What is your motive?” she added, eager both to learn something of the others and to keep up the easy conversation.
    Tom went on, “I’m on intersession from law school.
My roommate here conned me into this little jaunt. For my health, he says!” His smile fell on Paul good-naturedly, before his eyes returned to wink at Eva.
    â€œDon’t let him kid you. A greater adventurer I’ve never met! In fact, I probably wouldn’t be here myself had it not been for Tom’s enthusiasm,” retorted Paul, humor softening his words.
    Aware that the two Frenchmen were following, though not participating in, the exchange, Eva turned to the more pleasant of the two, Jacques. Phrasing her question to apply to them both, and thus avoiding a further query to Pierre, whose grimness made her uneasy, she ventured, “You are French, I gather?”
    â€œ Oui, madame,” began Jacques with a sweep of the arm across his waist in a confirming bow. “Pierre and I are business acquaintances. I live in Paris; Pierre is from Tours,” he explained amenably.
    In a mock whisper audible to all, Tom leaned toward Eva. “You’ll have