Dove's Way by Linda Francis Lee Read Free Book Online

know,” Emmaline snapped. “Act as you want; that’s your right. But the least you could have done was be civil to Miss Winslet.”
    He came away from the column in a flash. His pain was pushed aside by a sudden, intense fury—a fury he had never known until his life had changed so drastically, a fury that was now never far away.
    “Civil? I was more than civil.” He had saved her ungrateful life in the jungle, then led her through the intricacies of dinner etiquette like a guide leading the blind.
    “You may have saved her from that embarrassing flower debacle,” his mother continued, “but boorishly ignoring her the rest of the evening hardly constitutes civil behavior.”
    “If you believe I was so terrible to her, then why in the world would you suggest marriage in the first place?”
    “Because Finnea Winslet is the first person I’ve seen who pulled you out from under that steely facade you have built around yourself.” Her gently lined face softened. “You’ve locked yourself away, Matthew. But for one fleeting moment last night when she walked in, life filled your eyes.”
    His heart hammered in his chest as the sudden glimpse of naked white skin flashed through his mind. And blood. Everywhere.
    “She’s such a nice woman, Matthew. I liked her instantly.”
    Ripping his outer shirt. Pressing piece after piece to the jagged wound in the soft flesh of her inner thigh. But the blood hadn’t stopped, seeping into the material, staining it red. Again and again, white turned to red until his shirt was completely spent. Working ceaselessly. The powerless feeling of her growing weak in his arms. Life draining away. Frigid, aching cold seeping into his soul when he knew she was giving up.
    “I think she would be good for you, son.”
    “No!” The word exploded, echoing against the silk-lined walls and twenty-foot-high ceilings.
    He blinked and sucked in his breath, the sound of his heartbeat rushing through his ears as he looked at his mother’s startled expression.
    “You’re wrong, Mother,” he managed to say, forcing his mind back to the present. “I don’t want a wife, nor do I need one.”
    “But what about your daughter!” Emmaline demanded, anger flaring in her eyes.
    Matthew flinched, jerking away to look out the long windows that lined the front door, the simple movement making his head swim. Mary. His precious six-year-old daughter. She was the only reason he had come back from Africa at all. But his homecoming hadn’t gone as he had hoped.
    “Mary has you and Father to love her,” he answered.
    “She needs you to love her.”
    “I do love her!” The words were torn out of him. “God, I do,” he whispered. “But she needs a woman to guide her. And I can’t do that.”
    “But a wife could.”
    He met her gaze and very slowly said, “I am telling you for the last time, I will never remarry. Not Finnea Winslet, not some other woman you get it in your head would make me a good wife. I was married once. I will not marry again.” He searched for control. “Is that why you sent for me?”
    After a long moment, she sighed. “Actually, no. I wanted you to return this bracelet.” She hesitated uncertainly. “It’s the one Miss Winslet wore last night.”
    He prayed for patience. “Isn’t that convenient.”
    “Now, Matthew. I just want you to return the bracelet so they won’t worry about its whereabouts any longer. I had a note this morning.”
    Matthew could imagine the note, just as he could imagine Finnea wanting to make up some reason for seeing him.
    “Will you do that for me?” she asked.
    “Fine, I’ll return it. Then I’ll leave. That’s it.”
    “Fair enough.”
    He glanced toward the study. “Is Father here?”
    Emmaline looked at her son for several moments and said, “No, he’s out.”
    “Tell him I was here and wanted to know if he would like to meet me for lunch on Friday. At Locke-Ober’s.” His voice quieted. “Just as we used to.”
    Emmaline