Chain of Love by Anne Stuart Read Free Book Online Page A

could
    cancel her part of the Caribbean trip. Despite Meg’s assurances that they would scarcely even see him, Cathy had her doubts. Circumstances would
    throw them into a “couple” situation, where the obviously disinterested Sin would be forced to act as her willing escort. The very thought made
    her blush with incipient embarrassment, and she told herself she would call Meg the moment she returned home. If she needed to get away, perhaps Hawaii
    would be a refreshing change. If only there weren’t so damned many tourists marring the spectacular landscape! But doubtless St. Alphonse in the
    Caribbean would be equally tourist ridden. Maybe she would go to Europe.
    “Well, Catherine, you were the last person I expected to see,” her eldest sister’s stentorian tones greeted her as she stepped lightly
    from the compact car and ran up the front steps. Georgia stood poised at the top of the wide, marble steps, her silvery blond hair perfectly coiffed as
    always, the smoky eye shadow heavy on her sunken lids, the thick coating of powder over the perfect Whiteheart features taking on a sickly mauve hue in the
    afternoon shadows. “And frankly, my dear, you don’t look your best,” she continued, tilting her head to one side in a deliberate attitude
    she had long ago perfected. “Do you think blue jeans and a khaki shirt are the proper garb in which to visit your father?”
    Ignoring the rising temper always provoked by her contentious sister, Cathy clinked cheekbones dutifully, wondering if her pale, smooth cheeks had taken on
    some of Georgia’s purple talc. “Pops is more than used to me,” she replied evenly. “You’re looking elegant as always,
    George,” she added, not missing the tightening of her sister’s thin lips at the hated nickname. “Is that a new suit?”
    Georgia allowed herself a small preen. “Do you like it? Bendel’s, of course. You really ought to do something about your clothes, darling.
    They’re either disgraceful or terribly plain. No doubt you’ve brought some terribly staid off-the-rack thing for supper.”
    “I’m not staying for supper, Georgia,” Cathy decided hastily, moving past her sister into the house. “And you know perfectly well
    that I don’t care about clothes.”
    “You never have. You’re not going to win a man that way, my dear. Take some advice from your sister, jeans and shirts will not do at all. I
    could also give you some advice on makeup. You don’t take advantage of your looks, you know. You don’t have to settle for being plain. With the
    proper makeup and clothes you could be passably pretty. I do wish you’d let me take you in hand.”
    “No, thank you, Georgia.” Cathy accepted her sister’s strictures with her usual stoic forbearance, having heard them all her life. If she
    had ever had any doubts about her possible attractiveness, Georgia had done her best to stamp them out, leaving Cathy feeling plain and gawky, not
    recognizing her own lithe charm and unusual beauty. Georgia had worked her black magic once more.
    “Where is everybody?” Cathy queried, changing the subject quite firmly. “Is Pops resting?”
    “You know your father, Catherine. Nothing can make him slow down. He’s been conducting some very nefarious sort of business, and both Travis
    and Henry are livid. They’ve done everything they can to get him to confide in them, but your father does like to be mysterious.”
    A tolerant smile lit Cathy’s face as she recognized her father’s childish traits, a smile that turned her palely pretty face into a thing of
    beauty. “He’s your father too, Georgia,” she reminded her.
    Georgia’s beautifully shaped hands had curled into fists at her sister’s smile. “Not so you’d notice,” she said bluntly,
    turning her back on Cathy and leaving her without another word.
    Cathy stared after her elegant, well-dressed back until her sister disappeared into the house, the all-too-familiar waves of guilt washing over