Messing With Mac by Jill Shalvis Read Free Book Online Page A

look at him, couldn’t. No one saw her vulnerable and lived. She didn’t care how big he was, how warm— Oh God, he was warm. Heat radiated off him, and despite the hot, sticky night, she wanted more of it.
    The need alone made her eyes sting all over again, and released a few of the tears she couldn’t blink back. And then, because she’d been holding her breath, she gave herself away with one horrifyingly obvious sniff.
    â€œAh, hell,” he muttered. His big hands settled on her bare upper arms as he turned her to face him, and for the life of her, she couldn’t look away. “What’s going on?” he asked.
    What was going on? Only everything.
    â€œPrincess?”
    Suddenly his pet name for her didn’t seem like an insult, not when uttered in the husky, slightly rough voice that was far softer than she imagined he could ever be. Unable to talk without making a bigger fool of herself, she just shook her head.
    With the rough pad of his thumb, he stroked a tear off her cheek. She hadn’t worn waterproof mascara, so she probably looked like a raccoon, but even moreworrisome than that was the way she reacted to his touch. His thumb continued to make lazy passes over her cheek, his other fingers sank into her hair, and she stood there fighting the most insidious need to sob her heart out.
    Silent and strong, he waited, not rushing her, not freaking out because she was crying, not doing anything but waiting patiently for her to pull herself together.
    And suddenly she didn’t want to pull herself together, she wanted to bury her face against his shoulder and let go. It was humiliating, appalling, and as if he could read her mind, he made a low, soft sound of empathy in his throat that completely undid her.
    â€œEverything they said was true,” she whispered. “I grew up a spoiled brat.” She waited for some sort of recrimination but he said nothing.
    His fingers on her temple were the most soothing touches she’d ever felt. And maybe because of it, or maybe because it was the dark, her mouth ran away with her good sense and she spilled it all. “My family…we’re not close. I don’t know why really, we’re just…different from one another I guess.”
    â€œNot every family is super tight.”
    â€œWe’re not even in the realm of tight. Growing up, I was given the fanciest education. On Grandfather’s money. Every few years or so he’d come around andsee how his investment was doing, but other than that, we didn’t have much contact. I always thought it was because I disappointed him somehow. Or that he just didn’t have much sentiment in him, but he seemed to enjoy my sisters’ company.”
    â€œTaylor—”
    â€œNo.” Not wanting his pity, please God, not his pity, she didn’t look at him. “You know what? Just forget it.”
    â€œYou started it, finish it.”
    It was amazing how private the veranda was for how many people were just inside. Maybe nobody but the two of them dared the evening heat and humidity.
    Mac didn’t mention it one way or another, he seemed focused on her, and only her, and having that much man, all tall, gorgeous and listening to her, really listening, was…well, a fairly intense experience. “My grandfather died,” she said to the night. “And the will was rather…interesting.”
    â€œHow interesting?”
    â€œWell, for one thing, he left me the building you’re working on.”
    â€œIt’s a beauty.”
    â€œOh yes,” she agreed. “And a money pit.”
    He nodded.
    â€œHe…took away the funds that had always beenavailable to me. Every penny. Gave it all to my mother knowing she’d never share.” She closed her eyes and admitted the last painful truth. “Leaving me flat broke.”
    â€œWhy wouldn’t your mother share?”
    â€œShe’s been saving for a rainy day