From This Day Forward by Deborah Cox Read Free Book Online Page A

followed her back the way they'd come.
    Propelled by anger and humiliation, Caroline ran up the stairs and into her room, slamming the door behind her. She stopped just inside, her chest heaving with frustration and her hands curled into fists.
    Someone, probably Ines, had opened the windows on both sides of her bedroom and a soft, sweet breeze wafted through, dispelling some of the tropical heat. Stripping down to her chemise and pantalets, she fell on her back on the bed, gazing up at the mosquito netting that fluttered slightly in the breeze.
    She hadn't come here to be treated like a leper, like something loathsome and not quite human! Her husband had behaved in the most reprehensible manner. He treated her as if she were the enemy instead of someone who had given up everything to be his wife.
    "Dear God, did I make the wrong choice?" she asked aloud.
    She'd never been a quitter, but in the three years since her first husband had been killed, she'd never been so close to defeat. She was not the same frightened, destitute girl she had been when she'd first found herself a widow. She'd learned much about survival, and she'd learned to depend upon her own wits and skills to make a respectable, comfortable life for herself in New Orleans.
    But nothing she had learned in all that time seemed to matter when it came to dealing with Jason Sinclair.
    Rising from the bed, she walked to her trunk where it stood in a corner of the room, rummaging inside until she found the bundle of letters. Just touching them reminded her why she'd come here.
    She untied the red silk ribbon that held them together and chose one at random, opening it with a loving, tender touch.
    My closest neighbor visited yesterday for the first time in four months. He had a bride with him, a sallow-faced, terrified girl who nearly burst into tears when I asked her how she liked her new home. I believe he mistreats her, though / have no proof. I could see it in her eyes, the disillusionment and pain. Like Peggy's eyes. Why would a man bring a wife to the Amazon Valley only to mistreat her? I wanted to break him in half, but of course I said nothing and damned myself for the rest of the day.
    "You're a fool," Caroline told herself aloud as she felt her heart soften toward him again. Her mind was already formulating excuses for his behavior.
    To be honest, she had provoked him, albeit unintentionally. She had meant to flirt with him but had only succeeded in angering him, and even when she'd realized how angry he had become, she hadn't been able to stop. Her innuendo and double-edged questions had pushed him beyond endurance. What had she expected? She'd cornered him and she had suffered the consequences. It was a mistake she would be careful not to make in the future. She wasn't about to give up, not just yet.
    "Patrao is not hungry?" Ines asked reproachfully.
    Jason glanced up from his plate to see Ines standing at the end of the dining room table, frowning at him. He realized that he had hardly eaten a bite but had been rolling his food around on the plate instead. Dropping his fork, he pushed the plate away as if it were something odious.
    "No, I'm not hungry," he growled. The clock on the wall struck the noon hour. "Where is Mrs. Sinclair?"
    "She say she eats in her room." Ines cleared his plate away. "I am thinking you are not nice to her."
    "Mind your own business, Ines," Jason growled, pushing his chair back from the table.
    Ines snorted. "Man don't know what's good for him."
    Jason stalked through the open dining room door, trying not to let Ines's words needle him. He'd always treated her more like a friend or family member than a servant, and now he was suffering the consequences. Now she thought she knew him better than he knew himself.
    He just wanted to be left alone. That was why he'd come to the jungle in the first place.
    There would be no activity on the fazenda for the next three hours as the natives observed the customary siesta. When he'd first