Wyoming Wildflowers Trilogy Boxed Set (3 Books in 1) by Patricia McLinn

Author:Patricia McLinn [McLinn, Patricia]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2011-11-21T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER NINE

His diversionary tactic was blatant. But if she repeated that she wanted to know about his family—well, he already knew she did.

“I do?”

Automatically she reached up, but he wrapped his fingers around her wrist before her hand reached its destination.

“Let me.” He closed in.

“It can’t be much, if you have to look so close.”

The last word came out mangled as his tongue darted out to sweep her skin. He repeated the action, then kissed her almost primly, before returning to the corner of her mouth, teasing it with his teeth, sucking it in between his lips and licking once more, before backing up a good, oh, two inches.

“All gone?” Her question and her smile were breathless.

“No.”

“It’s still there? But —-” She wiped at the corner of her lips, still damp from his exploration.

“No. You don’t have chocolate at the corner of your mouth.”

“But you said... Did I before?”

“No. It was never there, so it can’t be gone.” He straightened, then dropped back beside her. “Like...”

His family.

She held her breath, afraid even that automatic movement might give away how much she wanted him to talk to her, how afraid she was he would withdraw again.

“If he could have, I think my father would have rolled in money, like Sin does in whatever muck he finds, to get the smell of it deep into his pores.” His voice was emotionless. “Of course that wouldn’t have been dignified. Instead, he wallowed in the trappings—cars, houses, boats, servants. And the proper wife. With the proper background and the proper pedigree. No mongrel for him. Only a thoroughbred would do. Then, when he had her, she became another trophy. No more valuable than any of the others.

“No, that’s not true—she was more trouble than the others, and that made her less valuable.

“After all, the cars and boats and houses he could hire other people to take care of while he put his energies into what was most important—making more money. But it was harder to do with a wife—not that he didn’t try.”

With his neck propped up by a pillow, he stared toward where the wall met the ceiling.

“My mother was what the family liked to call delicate. By the time I was old enough to understand, separating cause from effect got tricky. She was on pills a lot. Sometimes she had a private nurse. Even when she didn’t there was almost always someone around murmuring, Remember what the doctor says about taking your medication, Janice. God, I hated those people—the doctors, the nurses, the aides.”

She rested her hand on his arm. His stare never wavered, he didn’t so much as twitch. She thought he might not even have felt the touch until he spoke again.

“Don’t feel too sorry for me. I was insulated in a lot of ways. My mother’s maiden aunt lived with us—had her own wing. She had the bluest blood, and not a penny to her name. Her father considered her rebellious, so he wrote in his will that he

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