Her Sister's Secret (Mills & Boon Vintage Superromance) by Linda Style Page B
Authors: Linda Style
Ads: Link
provocation, they’d become a monster. Was that volatility what she’d sensed in Gannon?
“I said no!” Rhys’s voice boomed, startling Whitney.
“Either he comes through with the money or there’s no deal. It’s as simple as that.”
Whitney clutched the T-shirt close to her chest and inched nearer to the door.
“No. I don’t make second offers. Money is up-front. I’ll come through with the product on this end.”
Holding her breath, Whitney strained to hear more. But Rhys’s voice suddenly quieted, and she couldn’t make out the rest of the conversation.
I’ll come through with the product. Did that mean what she thought it did?
How could she have forgotten? She was here to prove Rhys was an unfit parent? To prove he was a drug dealer, or at the very least, that he had unsavory connections—and that she should have custody of SaraJane.
She’d forgotten because, until now, until this minute, it had been easy to forget. He’d seemed so different. Yes, he was aloof sometimes, even a little secretive, but then why shouldn’t he be? What reason would he have for baring his soul to a total stranger?
According to Gretta, he’d undergone a major life change. If that was true, she couldn’t blame him for not wanting to talk about his past. And according to Gretta, he’d been trying to put it all behind him.
Weren’t his actions proof of that? He’d welcomed her to his shop, offered her work, given her his help in researching the book. He’d even found her a place to stay.
And because of it, she’d almost forgotten he was a man capable of despicable acts.
He’d been so gentle and loving with SaraJane. He’d been that way with her, too, patiently explaining, gently teasing when she didn’t remember names and types of bikes. But the conversation she’d just overheard was confrontational, not at all like his earlier behavior, giving rise to further suspicion.
Right now she was as confused about Rhys Gannon’s character as she was about her sister’s truthfulness.
The doubt was making her crazy. The impulsive part of her wanted to grab SaraJane and flee. And then she’d be a kidnapper. She had to wait it out. Do things the right way. If he was delivering a “product” she could still catch him in the act.
She went back to stacking the racks. A few minutes later she noticed Rhys’s backlit form in the doorway to his office.
“Well, whaddaya think?” he asked. His tone was a 180-degree turn from where it had been during the conversation she’d just overheard.
She swung around, her pulse banging in her throat. “Think about what?”
He walked over to stand beside her. “Your new career?” He gave her a 100 watt grin. “Think you’re gonna find the motorcycle business interesting enough for a book?”
Even though his spirit was playful, the subtext suggested she was very obviously not cut out for this line of work.
She raised her chin. “Of course. I never realized how interesting it was until I started doing research.” She met his gaze, then bent down for another package to place on the rack.
He came down next to her, reached into the box at the same time, then clamped his hand over hers, holding it there. His eyes were riveted on hers. “You don’t have to do this, you know.”
Her heart sped up. “Do what?”
“You don’t have to work here just to get information. I’d give it to you, anyway.”
Her heart slammed against her ribs. Her mouth went dry. Was he talking about the book—or SaraJane? Still clutching the package, she rose to her feet. He rose with her.
Blindly, she punched the grommet and hung the bag on the metal hook in front of her, with no idea whether it actually belonged in that spot.
And until she knew differently, she’d play dumb. Take his words at face value . “But I want to. I want to do this. Really. The more I know, the better my photographs will be.”
***
Rhys was baffled by her persistence. He liked her tenacity, but it bothered
“I said no!” Rhys’s voice boomed, startling Whitney.
“Either he comes through with the money or there’s no deal. It’s as simple as that.”
Whitney clutched the T-shirt close to her chest and inched nearer to the door.
“No. I don’t make second offers. Money is up-front. I’ll come through with the product on this end.”
Holding her breath, Whitney strained to hear more. But Rhys’s voice suddenly quieted, and she couldn’t make out the rest of the conversation.
I’ll come through with the product. Did that mean what she thought it did?
How could she have forgotten? She was here to prove Rhys was an unfit parent? To prove he was a drug dealer, or at the very least, that he had unsavory connections—and that she should have custody of SaraJane.
She’d forgotten because, until now, until this minute, it had been easy to forget. He’d seemed so different. Yes, he was aloof sometimes, even a little secretive, but then why shouldn’t he be? What reason would he have for baring his soul to a total stranger?
According to Gretta, he’d undergone a major life change. If that was true, she couldn’t blame him for not wanting to talk about his past. And according to Gretta, he’d been trying to put it all behind him.
Weren’t his actions proof of that? He’d welcomed her to his shop, offered her work, given her his help in researching the book. He’d even found her a place to stay.
And because of it, she’d almost forgotten he was a man capable of despicable acts.
He’d been so gentle and loving with SaraJane. He’d been that way with her, too, patiently explaining, gently teasing when she didn’t remember names and types of bikes. But the conversation she’d just overheard was confrontational, not at all like his earlier behavior, giving rise to further suspicion.
Right now she was as confused about Rhys Gannon’s character as she was about her sister’s truthfulness.
The doubt was making her crazy. The impulsive part of her wanted to grab SaraJane and flee. And then she’d be a kidnapper. She had to wait it out. Do things the right way. If he was delivering a “product” she could still catch him in the act.
She went back to stacking the racks. A few minutes later she noticed Rhys’s backlit form in the doorway to his office.
“Well, whaddaya think?” he asked. His tone was a 180-degree turn from where it had been during the conversation she’d just overheard.
She swung around, her pulse banging in her throat. “Think about what?”
He walked over to stand beside her. “Your new career?” He gave her a 100 watt grin. “Think you’re gonna find the motorcycle business interesting enough for a book?”
Even though his spirit was playful, the subtext suggested she was very obviously not cut out for this line of work.
She raised her chin. “Of course. I never realized how interesting it was until I started doing research.” She met his gaze, then bent down for another package to place on the rack.
He came down next to her, reached into the box at the same time, then clamped his hand over hers, holding it there. His eyes were riveted on hers. “You don’t have to do this, you know.”
Her heart sped up. “Do what?”
“You don’t have to work here just to get information. I’d give it to you, anyway.”
Her heart slammed against her ribs. Her mouth went dry. Was he talking about the book—or SaraJane? Still clutching the package, she rose to her feet. He rose with her.
Blindly, she punched the grommet and hung the bag on the metal hook in front of her, with no idea whether it actually belonged in that spot.
And until she knew differently, she’d play dumb. Take his words at face value . “But I want to. I want to do this. Really. The more I know, the better my photographs will be.”
***
Rhys was baffled by her persistence. He liked her tenacity, but it bothered
Similar Books
