All You Desire by Kirsten Miller Read Free Book Online Page B

for Virginia Morrow to offer her a seat, but the woman ignored her. Instead she refilled her own glass with liquor from a cheap-looking bottle and propped up one arm on the fireplace mantel.
    â€œSo, what kind of deal are you offering me?” Virginia asked, playing innocent. “Enough to fix this place up, I hope?”
    â€œI was told you’d been left five million dollars in Iain’s will,” said Haven, hesitant to probe much farther.
    â€œAnd I suppose you’re wondering what happened to it?” Virginia said, finishing Haven’s thought. “Taxes and debts, my dear. Twenty years of debts. When Iain died, the IRS and every credit card company on earth came calling. They took it all.”
    â€œWell, I’m sure I could give you enough money to—” Haven stopped. The woman was slowly shaking her head, warning her guest that the effort was pointless. Haven realized then that Virginia wouldn’t settle for less than every last cent of the Morrow family fortune.
    â€œHow long were you and Iain together before he died?” the woman asked. “In this life, I mean.”
    â€œYou know?” Haven was caught off guard.
    â€œHow long?” Virginia repeated with a satisfied smirk.
    â€œLong enough.” Haven dug her hands deep into her pockets for warmth. Even with the little fire, the house was freezing. How could Virginia Morrow bear to wander its shabby rooms in nothing but a tattered silk gown?
    â€œI was twenty-five when I met Iain’s father and thirty-seven when we divorced. By the time he was done with me, there wasn’t much left. So that’s what? Twelve years? I think I deserve more than what I’ve been given. Don’t you?”
    â€œIt’s not for me to say,” Haven replied. “It was your son’s decision to make me his primary heir. I would think you’d want to respect his wishes. Still . . .”
    â€œ My son ?” The phrase struck Virginia Morrow as amusing. “Iain Morrow was never my son. I still don’t know what he was. Can you imagine ? You sacrifice your body and your freedom to have a child, and as soon as he’s able to talk, you discover that he doesn’t really belong to you. He says he’s had other mothers—dozens of them. Then when he’s older, he tells you that you’re the worst of the lot. You called him my son? The boy was a changeling. Someone stole my baby and left that creature in his place.” By the end of her tirade, Virginia’s mouth had puckered with bitterness.
    â€œI can’t believe you would say such things. Iain must have loved you. You were his mother.”
    â€œYou’re confusing love and need. They are two very different things, Haven. And as I just said, he was never my son.”
    â€œOf course he’s your son! If nothing else, he looks just like you.” Haven knew she’d made a mistake the instant the words were out of her mouth.
    â€œLooks?” Virginia took a gulp from her glass, and her face returned to its previously placid state. Haven wondered how much scotch it took to control the demons inside her. “An interesting choice of verb tenses. Anyway, don’t look so appalled, Miss Moore. You may think I’m a monster, but you’re really no better than I am. You’ll hurt Iain more than I ever did.”
    â€œYou don’t know the first thing about me.” The woman finally had Haven seething.
    â€œOh, yes, I do. I know you far better than you could ever imagine. You’ve had quite a few names. Constance. Cecile. Bao. Beatrice. But you’re always the same.”
    â€œHow—”
    â€œYou think I neglected my little changeling? You think I wasn’t listening when he started telling his stories? Even when he was three years old, Iain was already a strange boy. Everywhere we took him, he always tried to break free. Finally, we found out why. He told my husband that he was