[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
It didn't help that he looked at her in a more intimate way than he had at first. He'd been sick, of course.
Now he wasn't. She could not ignore that he was the same man who had nuzzled her neck and fondled
her breast, thinking she was his dead wife.
The only way she could face him was to remindherself that he didn't remember that night. Her problem
was that she did. She couldn't force what had happened out of her mind. She kept reliving what she had
felt when he'd touched her and stroked her and God help her she wanted to feel those emotions
again.
"Mmm, something smells good," Greg said, walking into the kitchen. She immediately straightened but it
was too late. "Is there something wrong?" he asked.
She shook her head. "I'm just tired, that's all." She motioned for him to be seated, then sat down across
from him. "How was your day? Did you have any luck finding what you're looking for?"
"Well, let's put it this way. I've eliminated a great many files that don't contain what I'm looking for,"
Greg said. "Is there anyone in your family who might remember something that happened twenty-five
years ago?"
She thought for a moment. "Actually, there is. My aunt, Minnie MacDonald, was born in Craigmor. She
will no doubt die there. I would guess that she knows everyone who's lived there since she was born.
She's the one who has the rest of dad's files."
"I wonder why no one mentioned her when I was asking forinformation? "
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She laughed. "They were trying to protect you, I'm sure."
"From what?"
"Aunt Minnie has a very sharp tongue and very little patience with anyone. I doubt that she would have
told a stranger anything. She's a little independent."
He widened his eyes deliberately. "An independent MacDonald. I can't imagine it." Then he smiled, a
slow, intimate smile that created a familiar flutter in her midsection. Oh, yes, this man's presence was
definitely lethal to her peace of mind.
"If you would like, I could take you to see her if you don't find what you're looking for here. She might
be more forthcoming if I'm there."
He shook his head. "I can't take you away from your own work. You've done more than enough for me
this past week."
She smiled. "Just part of the service, sir. Helping to return a person to optimum health is what I do."
"You do it very well," he said quietly.
"Thank you." She met his eyes and was startled at the warmth in them. He'd not looked at her with that
expression before. It was filled with admiration and something more. The something more made her
nervous. Had he discovered how strongly she was drawn to him? Oh, she hoped not. That would be
much too embarrassing to be borne.
"Well, let's see how my search goes. I may not have a choice except to meet with your aunt. I'm rapidly
running out of options."
Once they finished eating, Greg excused himself and returned to work. Fiona cleaned up the kitchen and
tried to think of something she could do that wouldn't involve following him into the living room.
She was being silly, she admonished herself. What she was experiencing was merely a delayed
adolescent infatuation. She'd missed that part of growing up and she needed to learn to deal with it.
There was no time like the present.
With that in mind, Fiona went to the living room and curled up in her chair with her book. From time to
time she glanced at Greg, who was using her desk to sort through files. From the way the boxes were
arranged, he must have gone through six of them today, with two more waiting to be opened.
Once she began to read, the magic of the written word swept her into the story and she no longer
noticed her surroundings.
McTavish was in his favorite place, on the rug in front of the fireplace. Tiger sat on the arm of her chair,
dozing. When she glanced up, she realized that sleet was pinging against the windows.
She glanced at Greg and discovered that he was relaxed back in the chair at her desk watching her.
From his comfortable position, it looked as though he'd been doing so for a while.
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Her cheeks immediately heated up.
"Why do you do that?" he asked.
"Do what?"
"Blush every time you find me looking at you?"
She swallowed, wishing she could think of some lighthearted reply. The truth was, she didn't have much
experience in that field & which she finally decided was the only answer she could offer.
"I'm not used to being watched," she admitted, rubbing her cheek in a vain attempt to hide her
discomfort.
"Are all the men around here blind?"
"I don't know what you mean." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl freetocraft.keep.pl
It didn't help that he looked at her in a more intimate way than he had at first. He'd been sick, of course.
Now he wasn't. She could not ignore that he was the same man who had nuzzled her neck and fondled
her breast, thinking she was his dead wife.
The only way she could face him was to remindherself that he didn't remember that night. Her problem
was that she did. She couldn't force what had happened out of her mind. She kept reliving what she had
felt when he'd touched her and stroked her and God help her she wanted to feel those emotions
again.
"Mmm, something smells good," Greg said, walking into the kitchen. She immediately straightened but it
was too late. "Is there something wrong?" he asked.
She shook her head. "I'm just tired, that's all." She motioned for him to be seated, then sat down across
from him. "How was your day? Did you have any luck finding what you're looking for?"
"Well, let's put it this way. I've eliminated a great many files that don't contain what I'm looking for,"
Greg said. "Is there anyone in your family who might remember something that happened twenty-five
years ago?"
She thought for a moment. "Actually, there is. My aunt, Minnie MacDonald, was born in Craigmor. She
will no doubt die there. I would guess that she knows everyone who's lived there since she was born.
She's the one who has the rest of dad's files."
"I wonder why no one mentioned her when I was asking forinformation? "
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
She laughed. "They were trying to protect you, I'm sure."
"From what?"
"Aunt Minnie has a very sharp tongue and very little patience with anyone. I doubt that she would have
told a stranger anything. She's a little independent."
He widened his eyes deliberately. "An independent MacDonald. I can't imagine it." Then he smiled, a
slow, intimate smile that created a familiar flutter in her midsection. Oh, yes, this man's presence was
definitely lethal to her peace of mind.
"If you would like, I could take you to see her if you don't find what you're looking for here. She might
be more forthcoming if I'm there."
He shook his head. "I can't take you away from your own work. You've done more than enough for me
this past week."
She smiled. "Just part of the service, sir. Helping to return a person to optimum health is what I do."
"You do it very well," he said quietly.
"Thank you." She met his eyes and was startled at the warmth in them. He'd not looked at her with that
expression before. It was filled with admiration and something more. The something more made her
nervous. Had he discovered how strongly she was drawn to him? Oh, she hoped not. That would be
much too embarrassing to be borne.
"Well, let's see how my search goes. I may not have a choice except to meet with your aunt. I'm rapidly
running out of options."
Once they finished eating, Greg excused himself and returned to work. Fiona cleaned up the kitchen and
tried to think of something she could do that wouldn't involve following him into the living room.
She was being silly, she admonished herself. What she was experiencing was merely a delayed
adolescent infatuation. She'd missed that part of growing up and she needed to learn to deal with it.
There was no time like the present.
With that in mind, Fiona went to the living room and curled up in her chair with her book. From time to
time she glanced at Greg, who was using her desk to sort through files. From the way the boxes were
arranged, he must have gone through six of them today, with two more waiting to be opened.
Once she began to read, the magic of the written word swept her into the story and she no longer
noticed her surroundings.
McTavish was in his favorite place, on the rug in front of the fireplace. Tiger sat on the arm of her chair,
dozing. When she glanced up, she realized that sleet was pinging against the windows.
She glanced at Greg and discovered that he was relaxed back in the chair at her desk watching her.
From his comfortable position, it looked as though he'd been doing so for a while.
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
Her cheeks immediately heated up.
"Why do you do that?" he asked.
"Do what?"
"Blush every time you find me looking at you?"
She swallowed, wishing she could think of some lighthearted reply. The truth was, she didn't have much
experience in that field & which she finally decided was the only answer she could offer.
"I'm not used to being watched," she admitted, rubbing her cheek in a vain attempt to hide her
discomfort.
"Are all the men around here blind?"
"I don't know what you mean." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]