Lorraine Heath by Parting Gifts Read Free Book Online Page B

shook her head, dreading any further words he might discharge.
    Slowly, he grazed his knuckles along her cheek. “I’d say that sort of means you belong to me as well.”
    “I don’t belong to you,” she forced out, her breathing labored. Fear was something with which she’d grown accustomed to living, but the fear she faced in the past was trivial compared to that she faced now. “I married Charles. I’m his wife.”
    He trailed his finger down her throat. “I don’t know why you’re objecting. You were willing in Fort Worth to take any man into your bed, and I’m not greedy. I’d settle for you coming to me every other night even though I’m the one who had to give up the most to get you.”
    “I won’t give myself to you willingly.”
    “You don’t have to pretend with me.” He lowered his mouth to her throat and blazed a path toward her ear. “I’m not Charles who’s easily fooled. I know the kind of woman you are. He may think you’re sweet and innocent, but I know the truth.” Lifting his head, his eyes impaled her. “You’re no better than dirt. You promised to spread your legs to the highest bidder. Well, lady, whether you knew it at the time or not, I was the highest bidder. You’ll damn well spread them for me.”
    Each word had been fired with deadly accuracy, and she felt them slam into her heart. “I’ll die first.”
    “You weren’t willing to die in Fort Worth. Your body wasn’t so precious to you then.”
    “It’s still not,” she hissed. “But the vows I exchanged with your brother are.”
    She didn’t know whether her words or her vehemence caused him to ease back a little, and she didn’t care. She took advantage of his confusion, pounded her fists against his chest, and slipped through the small crevice her actions had created. Lifting her skirt, she ran to the house.
    She rushed into the kitchen, slammed the door shut, and pressed her back against it. Not that it would keep him out.
    She didn’t think he’d slept in the house last night. She knew he hadn’t come to the table for breakfast. She now had a clearer understanding of the argument that might have erupted between the brothers last night. Charles had spent Jesse’s money on her. Whatever had possessed him to do such an irresponsible thing? His actions had constituted robbery, and Jesse was unjustly blaming her.
    “Ma! Ma!”
    The piping sounds reminded her of baby birds in a nest waiting impatiently for their mother to bring them food. Her hands trembled uncontrollably as she opened the door. The girls walked into the kitchen, carrying a pail filled with eggs between them. She took the pail, hearing the delicate eggs clatter as she carried it to the sideboard. She set the pail down, took a deep breath, and pressed her hands against the hardwood counter. She needed something to occupy her mind and her hands.
    Turning around, she looked into the brown eyes looking at her expectantly. How easily children accepted what adults couldn’t. She ventured a smile that she hoped hid her fear. “How would you like to help me bake a cake?”
    Their eyes lit up, and she was reminded of shiny brown buttons. “What kind would you like to make?”
    “Ponge,” Taylor said.
    “Ponge?”
    “She means sponge,” Hannah explained. “It’s Uncle Jesse’s favorite.”
    Maddie wanted to shriek. What was it about that man that made these children adore him? If she made a cake for him, she’d use salt in place of sugar—and lots of it. “What is your father’s favorite cake?”
    Taylor stuck her finger in her mouth. Hannah drew her brows together in thought, then shrugged her tiny shoulders. Maddie sighed in defeat. “Then I guess we’ll make sponge cake.”
    She began gathering the ingredients from the pantry, turning when she felt a tug on her skirt. With a secretive smile, Hannah said, “You’ll be glad.”
    “Oh, I’m sure I will. There’s nothing I want more than I want to make your Uncle Jesse