The Ring on Her Finger by Elizabeth Bevarly Read Free Book Online

hour after meeting Max Hogan, mongrel—and non-German, way non-wizened car guy—Lucy sat in the window seat of her temporary living room, gazing out her temporary window at her temporary surroundings. And listening to the steady clank-clank-clanking of her temporary neighbor in the driveway below. She wondered how long she was going to have to put up with it. Not the clank-clank-clanking so much as the presence of Max Hogan, car guy. Never in her life had she been more fiercely, more immediately attracted to a man.
    Recalling their initial encounter, she winced inwardly. Again. Had she really said she got all those K guys mixed up? Even she knew the differences there. Sort of. Kahlil and Omar had poetry in common, and Genghis and Chiang were historical figures, right? There was no way they were going to buy her supposed 3.5 GPA in literature. Maybe she really should go back to college.
    Or maybe she should just go period.
    How had she let Phoebe talk her into this? They were both nuts for thinking she could pull it off. But if she left the Cove estate, where could she go? She was completely unfamiliar with almost every place that wasn’t Newport. Surely she wouldn’t be here long enough to get into any more trouble. Surely it would only take a few days for Phoebe to figure out what was going on with Archie and straighten things out with the authorities. Surely they’d discover they made a terrible mistake thinking she was involved with anyone’s murder, then Phoebe would call and tell her it was all right for her to come home.
    Surely.
    Lucy could keep a low profile for a few days. Good heavens, considering the size of the house where she’d be working, she’d probably go weeks without meeting another human being. Then again, she’d have to return to her apartment at the end of her workday. Her apartment right across the hall from Max Hogan, mongrel—i.e., Max Hogan, wild dog.
    And why did that analogy seem so appropriate? He’d been perfectly polite to her. Well, except for those rabid looks he’d given her that had made her feel all naked and sweaty for some reason. But those hadn’t lasted long. Only until she brought up Khan, Kahlil, Khayyam, and Kai-Shek. He must think she was a complete idiot. And here she’d been, thinking since her arrival that she might be able to start anew at the Cove estate. Yeah, right. There were some things a person couldn’t escape. Not when they were an intrinsic part of that person’s character.
    Oh, why did she care what Max thought of her? Not only was she misrepresenting herself, she’d only be here for a short time. It was pointless to think anything might happen with him. Anything more than a major physical lust, anyway.
    Which was another thing. Where had that physical lust come from? Just because the guy was unbelievably good-looking in a sullen, steamy kind of way. A dangerous, rabid, overwhelmingly hot, erotic, naked, sweaty... Um, where was she? Oh, yes. Just because he was unbelievably good-looking didn’t mean she had to go all gooey inside whenever she looked at him. Even if the passage of an hour had done nothing to change that.
    An hour, she repeated to herself, frantic. Oh, no. Rosemary had told her to come back up to the big house in an hour, because Mrs. Cove would be home by then and could go over Lucy’s duties. She glanced down at her watch and realized she had two minutes to cover the roughly two hundred miles between the carriage house and the big house if she was going to arrive on time.
    She hurried down the stairs on the side of the carriage house, but when she rounded the corner and saw Max standing beside the roadster wiping his greasy hands on a rag, she stopped. She couldn’t help herself. He just had a presence—or something—about him that made it impossible for her not to notice him. Be distracted by him. Respond to him. Succumb to him.
    What was it she had just been planning to do...?
    He glanced up as she skidded to a halt, his smoky