her breasts.
“We do make a charming couple, don’t we, Jamie?”
“I—uh—” Jamie began.
Tracy interrupted him, swearing rather elaborately, but once again her fervent efforts against him went unnoticed. He spun her around grimly; her fists were useless because they were too tightly crushed against his chest as he stared down at her. “I told them that you were living with me again, Tracy. And the amazing thing is that they believed it. So, I would say, most obviously, my love, that they have been kept in the dark about your movements the same as everyone else. I could tell that your mother was shocked—but, of course, I reminded her that you were quite of age now and could live anywhere you desired. I also said that we wanted peace among all of us, of course.”
“You what!” Tracy got out at last, livid. Oh, so much for control and poise and sophistication. “You’re crazy! I won’t have any part of it! I will never go near that house again as long as I live!”
He raised a dark brow to her, pleasantly, but didn’t release her. Her heels didn’t help her at all; she felt small and powerless and she hated him for it. Just like she hated the way that he made her feel, holding her, after all these years. Holding her with what felt like latent anger, an anger that had simmered and brewed and waited and now.
He had her.
No, he did not. Because she would never go to his house. She would never live his lie.
“Why on earth should I do this?” she railed, near hysteria. “I don’t believe my family had anything to do with it.”
“Then you’re a coward. You’re afraid to prove that what you’re saying is true.”
“You’ll never prove anything—”
“Tracy!”
It was Jamie who called out her name. She turned to him, unaware that Leif’s grip eased enough for her to slide within his arms, yet remain against him.
And she wasn’t really aware then of Leif’s arms still about her, for one thing was true—Jamie had every bit of his father’s haunting sensitivity in his features. He swallowed miserably as he stared at her, then spoke with a hoarse croak in his throat. “Tracy, maybe it’s our only chance. I didn’t know anything—you came to me. But now that I know, Tracy—by God! We’ve got to have the truth! Tracy, we’re his children! We can’t let his real murderer go free. And if that means my family or your family, we both have to know, whatever the truth is.”
She shook her head, denying the pain that swelled within her. “Jamie, this is crazy!”
“It could work! Ah, come on, Tracy—you just admitted it. You’ve already slept with Leif—how hard can it be just to stay in his house?”
“Oh!” Tracy gasped out, stunned by his casual acceptance of everything. Some blood brother!—standing there while Leif manhandled her and acting as if it were fine. How typically male, how typically—like her father, and Leif.
She wrenched away from the latter with a sudden spurt of fury and approached Jamie with fire flaring brightly in her eyes. He, too, stood way taller than she, but he backed away as she came near.
“Jamie, don’t you dare ever assume that everything in life is casual. Don’t sentence yourself to a life like Dad’s, where nothing ever meant anything because he had too much! Oh, never mind! I’ll never get through to any of you!”
She went flying out of the suite then, amazed that a simple breakfast could have gone so badly.
Why not? Leif had been there, and she had played right into his hands. She had said and done exactly what he wanted; he had her in a position where she would be pressured to play his game his way—to trap her grandfather.
Tracy didn’t quite make it to her suite’s door; she spun back and slammed back into Jamie’s.
He and Leif were righting the chafing dishes. “This is just great!” Jamie was complaining. “The hotel will blame me for being young and wild when my sister threw the food at you!”
“I didn’t throw food
“We do make a charming couple, don’t we, Jamie?”
“I—uh—” Jamie began.
Tracy interrupted him, swearing rather elaborately, but once again her fervent efforts against him went unnoticed. He spun her around grimly; her fists were useless because they were too tightly crushed against his chest as he stared down at her. “I told them that you were living with me again, Tracy. And the amazing thing is that they believed it. So, I would say, most obviously, my love, that they have been kept in the dark about your movements the same as everyone else. I could tell that your mother was shocked—but, of course, I reminded her that you were quite of age now and could live anywhere you desired. I also said that we wanted peace among all of us, of course.”
“You what!” Tracy got out at last, livid. Oh, so much for control and poise and sophistication. “You’re crazy! I won’t have any part of it! I will never go near that house again as long as I live!”
He raised a dark brow to her, pleasantly, but didn’t release her. Her heels didn’t help her at all; she felt small and powerless and she hated him for it. Just like she hated the way that he made her feel, holding her, after all these years. Holding her with what felt like latent anger, an anger that had simmered and brewed and waited and now.
He had her.
No, he did not. Because she would never go to his house. She would never live his lie.
“Why on earth should I do this?” she railed, near hysteria. “I don’t believe my family had anything to do with it.”
“Then you’re a coward. You’re afraid to prove that what you’re saying is true.”
“You’ll never prove anything—”
“Tracy!”
It was Jamie who called out her name. She turned to him, unaware that Leif’s grip eased enough for her to slide within his arms, yet remain against him.
And she wasn’t really aware then of Leif’s arms still about her, for one thing was true—Jamie had every bit of his father’s haunting sensitivity in his features. He swallowed miserably as he stared at her, then spoke with a hoarse croak in his throat. “Tracy, maybe it’s our only chance. I didn’t know anything—you came to me. But now that I know, Tracy—by God! We’ve got to have the truth! Tracy, we’re his children! We can’t let his real murderer go free. And if that means my family or your family, we both have to know, whatever the truth is.”
She shook her head, denying the pain that swelled within her. “Jamie, this is crazy!”
“It could work! Ah, come on, Tracy—you just admitted it. You’ve already slept with Leif—how hard can it be just to stay in his house?”
“Oh!” Tracy gasped out, stunned by his casual acceptance of everything. Some blood brother!—standing there while Leif manhandled her and acting as if it were fine. How typically male, how typically—like her father, and Leif.
She wrenched away from the latter with a sudden spurt of fury and approached Jamie with fire flaring brightly in her eyes. He, too, stood way taller than she, but he backed away as she came near.
“Jamie, don’t you dare ever assume that everything in life is casual. Don’t sentence yourself to a life like Dad’s, where nothing ever meant anything because he had too much! Oh, never mind! I’ll never get through to any of you!”
She went flying out of the suite then, amazed that a simple breakfast could have gone so badly.
Why not? Leif had been there, and she had played right into his hands. She had said and done exactly what he wanted; he had her in a position where she would be pressured to play his game his way—to trap her grandfather.
Tracy didn’t quite make it to her suite’s door; she spun back and slammed back into Jamie’s.
He and Leif were righting the chafing dishes. “This is just great!” Jamie was complaining. “The hotel will blame me for being young and wild when my sister threw the food at you!”
“I didn’t throw food
Similar Books
