Roarke's Wife by Beverly Barton

Author:Beverly Barton
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2011-06-11T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

Cleo rubbed the bridge of her nose, then ran her hand over her face and down her neck. Her back hurt, her shoulders ached and she felt the beginnings of a headache. Laying aside the file folder Roarke had given her less than fifteen minutes ago, she shoved back her chair and stood. Things were worse at McNamara Industries than she’d thought. The sabotage was more widespread, and the damage far more extensive. Someone had truly created havoc with the company’s computer system. And it had all happened since Uncle George’s death.

It had taken Morgan Kane less than forty-eight hours to discover the extent of the damage. He’d handed Roarke a complete report when he’d come in from the plant thirty minutes ago. And after reading the report immediately, Roarke had turned it over to Cleo and left her alone to absorb the information. He’d assured her that since Kane was now on the job and had already assembled a security force of two men and one woman, no one would have the opportunity to tamper with the computer system again. Right now, their main objective was to straighten out the present mess.

At moments like this, Cleo wished she could escape from her own life, from the burdens of being CEO of McNamara Industries, from the responsibility of caring for others. If she could escape to some deserted tropical island, she would want Roarke to go with her. They could frolic in the ocean, bask in the sunshine and make love under the stars. No past. No future. No worries. Just endless happiness.

But she couldn’t escape, couldn’t run away from the danger that threatened her and her company. She had little choice but to stay and face whatever lay ahead, to confront the person who wanted to destroy her life and ruin the family business. She had to fight and win this battle.

There was another battle she wanted to win. But in her heart, she feared it was a lost cause. She wanted to win Simon Roarke, and she was willing to fight whatever demons plagued him, whatever tormenting memories held him prisoner. He stayed at her side during the day, guarding her diligently, and at night he held her in his arms and made mad, passionate love to her. But there was a part of himself that he held back, a private, tortured part of his soul that he would not share. He protected her and possessed her with equal fervor, but where she was unable to control her emotional response to him, he never relinquished complete control. Only in the throes of passion did she possess him as surely as he possessed her. And those moments were fleeting—an ephemeral ecstasy soon ended.

Roarke knocked on the door, opened it and walked into the study. He saw her standing in front of the empty fireplace, her red hair glimmering in the honeyed glow of the pewter chandelier that hung from the vaulted ceiling. A spiral metal staircase led from the ground level up to a mezzanine library level lined with rows of bookshelves.

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