Jo Goodman by My Reckless Heart Read Free Book Online Page A

He was standing on the opposite side of her wide desk, his arms braced stiffly on the edge while he leaned forward. It was a posture she knew he used to intimidate shippers and clerks and business associates. He had never done it professionally with her, and she had to remind herself that he still hadn't. This was personal.
    Jonna sighed and found a measure of patience she hadn't had a moment before. "I'm not agreeing with you," she said carefully. "That doesn't mean I haven't heard what you've said." She watched Grant react visibly to that. His head jerked back as if she had slapped him lightly on the cheek. "I know you believe you've presented your opinion in language so clear I must agree with you, but"—now she shrugged to emphasize her point—"I don't."
    Grant's first instinct was to tell Jonna that she couldn't possibly have been listening. He held the words back because he knew he would win no favor by insisting on his point again. He waited until he had reined in his anger before he pushed away from the desk. He walked to the window on the other side of her office, where he had a clear view of the harbor. Rain pounded the wharf and churned the waters. In spite of the downpour Grant could make out his own ships from this vantage point. Bad weather hadn't stopped work and he watched one of his sleek clippers being loaded while he considered his position.
    Jonna was quiet. Her eyes followed the rather stiff line of Grant's back to the breadth of his shoulders. His jacket stretched tautly across his solid frame as he crossed his arms in front of him. Jonna's gaze dropped from the fringe of sandy brown hair touching his collar to his narrow waist. He dropped his hands to his sides, but his shoulders didn't relax. There was tension in the hard muscles of his back and at the nape of his neck. It was clear he felt strongly about his view. Jonna only wished he would respect hers. She stared at him, wondering what she might say—or do—to convince him. Her eyes dropped to his lean but powerfully built legs, and her mind wandered. When he turned on her suddenly her cheeks were hot with the direction of her thoughts.
    "Are you all right?" he asked.
    She nodded and reached for the cup of tea that had been ignored this past hour. It was cold now and faintly bitter—just what she needed. Jonna pretended not to notice that Grant was still studying her. There was concern in his expression, but more than that, there was interest. His eyes were so brown they were very nearly black, yet Jonna could tell they had just darkened as he watched her. She could feel herself going warm again, and she took another sip of tea.
    Grant smiled slowly, a beautifully telling smile that said he knew something of what was going through her mind. His features were transformed by that smile from merely handsome to arresting. He shook his head slowly, and the lift of his lips became a trifle self-mocking. He ran a hand through his hair. Anger had dissipated to mild exasperation. "There's nothing I can say that will change your mind?" he asked.
    "I think you've said it all," she told him, setting her cup aside. "I'm not throwing Captain Thorne out of my home."
    "You make it sound as if you'd be tossing him into the streets. He has a place of his own, doesn't he? He could stay aboard Huntress for that matter. It's been two weeks, Jonna." Now he added something he had not said before. "There's been talk."
    Jonna did not take the bait. "I assumed that's why you brought this up again," she said. "I'd find it very odd indeed if people weren't talking, but I have no control over it, and neither do you." She knew that did not set well with Grant, especially when he still harbored some notion that he had control over her. "Tell me, Grant, do people know how it is that Captain Thorne came to be bedfast?"
    "They know about his rescue of you," he said.
    "But I was in that water, too. And worse for the experience than the captain. Why do they think he hasn't