Lost in His Arms by Carla Cassidy Read Free Book Online Page B

wrinkle appeared on her forehead. “Talbot, I told you the other night that I grew up in foster care. I had some terrific foster parents and some not-so-terrific foster families, but in my entire youth, there was never any sense of permanence or family.”
    Again she raked her hand through her hair, liftingthe cascade of honey-colored silk. “When I got pregnant, I swore to myself that my child would have the family I hadn’t had—a mother and a father and perhaps a few siblings. The death of that dream was the most difficult thing I’ve ever had to face.”
    He nodded and redirected his attention to his driving. He wondered what thoughts whirled around in her head. Did she still love Richard? Did she regret leaving him? If Richard wanted reconciliation, would she agree to it? Would she be willing to give him a second chance to find the happiness she’d once sought?
    He dismissed his musings, knowing it was really none of his business what she thought or felt. She was his ex-sister-in-law, and their only real tie anymore was her son, his nephew.
    Still, suddenly Talbot wanted the frown on her forehead to be gone. He wanted to hear her laugh again, see her eyes sparkle and shine. A heavy pall had fallen over the conversation, and he searched his mind for a way to lighten things up.
    â€œIt wasn’t all bad,” she said, as if she’d read his mind and was also attempting to lighten the mood. She flashed him a smile. “Remember the picnic we had for Andrew’s third birthday?”
    He felt the answering smile that curved his lips. It had been a magical day. The weather had cooperated, providing one of those early-spring days where not a hint of winter lingered and the airsmelled of the promise of summer. The food had been delicious, Andrew had been charming, as only a three-year-old can be, and Richard had played the role of father and husband beautifully.
    â€œWhat was the name of your date that day?” she asked, her eyes twinkling wickedly. “Cinnamon? Sugar?”
    â€œHoney,” he replied, although he knew she probably remembered the name very well. He laughed and shook his head wryly.
    â€œShe was quite stunning.”
    He nodded. “Yes, she was.”
    Elizabeth’s smile grew more wicked. “And she was so innovative in her dress for a picnic. Who would have thought of wearing spike heels, a leather miniskirt and a bustier to a birthday party for a three-year-old?”
    â€œShe’s the only woman I’ve ever met who thought pâté was the bald spot on top of an old man’s head.”
    He was rewarded with her laughter. Rich and throaty, it filled the car, and he joined in as each memory called on another one of that crazy, glorious day.
    â€œEvery time she leaned over to look at the cake, I was afraid her, uh, assets might spill out,” Elizabeth continued.
    Talbot laughed again. “I don’t know what wasworse, her bending over to look at the cake or trying to play Frisbee in those shoes.”
    â€œShe might not have been overly bright, but I’m sure she had a good heart,” Elizabeth defended her.
    â€œNo, she didn’t,” he protested. “She thought children were ‘yucky’ and animals were dirty and believed a humanitarian award should go to Coco Chanel for finally coming up with clothing that women with breasts could wear.”
    â€œStill, it was a nice party, wasn’t it? Did you date her much after that day?”
    â€œThat was my first and last date with the lovely Honey. I liked her fine until she talked, and unfortunately the lovely Honey loved to talk.”
    Elizabeth laughed again, then sobered and he could feel her gaze on him. “Why haven’t you married, Talbot?”
    Because the woman I wanted was already taken by my brother. He shoved the unwanted thought aside. “I don’t know. I’ve been so busy building the business, I haven’t taken much