The Humbug Man by Diana Palmer Read Free Book Online

quietly, not dressing it up.
    She blushed scarlet and her eyes dropped. She shook her head.
    His lean hand went to her chin, tilting it up, and for all its cool deftness, it didn’t insist. “Yes, I was married,” he said gently. “To a woman who avoided the very touch of me.”
    She stopped being afraid and just stared, astonished. “But…you had a child.”
    He sighed heavily. “Most people think that. I’ve let them think it to prevent gossip for the sake of her people.” He touched her hair lightly, as if its dark silkiness fascinated him, while her rapt gaze remained fixed on his hard face. “She was my brother’s girl. He was killed in a skiing accident several years back, just weeks before they were to be married, and he left her pregnant with his child. She was from good stock, churchgoing people with hard ideas about anticipating marriage vows. It was my nephew she was carrying. So we married, for the child’s sake.”
    “She didn’t love you?” she asked gently.
    His chin lifted pugnaciously. “I’m not a lovable man,” he said with a cold smile. “No, she didn’t love me. She loved my brother and grieved for him the whole time we were married. Even after the baby came, she could hardly bear to let me touch her.” He studied her mouth as he spoke, as if the words were coming harder by the second. “We’d taken Kip on a camping trip, up into the Rockies, and for the first time, Joyce was showing some interest in life. I’d let them ride in the trailer we were towing, against my better judgment.” His eyes closed, his whole body going rigid. “The coupling came loose. They went over….”
    She didn’t even stop to think. She slid her arms under the shepherd’s coat, around him, and pressed close, holding him as hard as she could, rocking him. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her eyes closed as she gave him what little comfort she could. “I’m so sorry.”
    He was astonished at the gesture. His hands touched her shoulders lightly as he tried to decide what to do. The feel of her lightly clad body under his coat was disturbing him. He could feel her soft breasts pressing into him. She was clinging too hard, making his mind whirl with sensation, with soft woman smells coming up into his nostrils and making him hungry in a way he hadn’t been since Joyce’s death.
    “It was a long time ago,” he said finally. His lean hands smoothed over her hair, holding her cheek to his chest as he stopped fighting it and gave in to the feel of her against him.
    “You loved her.”
    He hesitated. “I thought I did, yes,” he agreed and wondered why he qualified it that way when he’d always assumed that it was love. Now it seemed more likely that he’d pitied Joyce, that he’d wanted to make up to her the loss of his younger brother. But now, with Maggie holding him, he wasn’t sure anymore.
    And the boy.”
    He drew in a steadying breath. “Especially the boy,” he confessed. “I missed him like hell. I still do, Maggie.”
    The sound of her name on his lips made her go warm and soft all over. That startled her into stiffening.
    “Sorry,” she said, starting to draw back.
    But he held her. “No,” he said quietly at her temple. “I haven’t had a woman this close in years. It feels good.”
    His admission was shocking. She lifted her gaze to search his black, intent eyes. “Years?” she asked hesitantly, and with that one word, she was asking how experienced he really was.
    He didn’t want to tell her. But the way she was looking at him wasn’t mocking or amused. He touched her cheek with the back of his hand. “Years,” he confirmed, and that strange flush was back on his cheekbones.
    Her lips parted because she wanted to know, needed to know, had to know. “Were there…many?” she whispered.
    He swallowed. His eyes went over her face gently. “No,” he whispered back. His jaw clenched. “Only one, if you can’t live without having the whole truth,” he added harshly,