The Thawing of Mara by Janet Dailey Read Free Book Online Page B

willing to pay that, Mr. Buchanan?"
    "I don't quibble over prices," he informed her with a distantly amused light in his eyes. "As long as I get what I want, I'm not concerned about the cost."
    His supreme confidence grated at Mara. The carriage of her head became more stiffly erect and her attitude more withdrawn. "Very well, that's the salary I shall quote. Was there anything else?" Rising from her chair, she indicated by her action that if there was nothing, he should leave.
    "No, that was all. Thanks for the coffee." Releasing the mug from the encirclement of his hands, Sin indolently uncoiled his length to dominate her with his height.
    "There's no need to rush off," her father protested amiably.
    The dark fires in her eyes smoldered in her father's direction as Mara curved her mouth into a false smile. "I'm sure Mr. Buchanan is aware that by now Miss Taylor is probably wondering where he disappeared to."
    "Celene was sleeping when I left," Sin offered the information unasked. "She isn't an early riser. She'll probably still be in bed when I get back and I'll have to wake her."
    Mara had an immediate mental picture of just how Sin would go about it. An unreasoning anger stabbed through her and she felt herself bristling because of it.
    "No doubt she'll be pleased," she murmured sarcastically, and moved toward the door to escort Sin out.
    But Sin didn't immediately follow her as he paused to say goodbye to her father. "I enjoyed meeting you, Adam."
    "The pleasure was mine. As you can see, I don't get out much." Her father patted the armrest of his wheelchair, indicating his condition without asking for pity. "But I hope you find time to stop by for a visit again."
    "Thank you. I'll try." His glance at Mara said that he was aware she didn't echo the invitation. "Good day, Miss Prentiss."
    There was controlled amusement in the warmth of his resonant voice. It taunted her into offering a stilted, "Good day, Mr. Buchanan," as she opened the door for him.
    His wide-shouldered bulk moved past her, his laconic strength evident in the ease of his long strides. Mara caught a whiff of some exotic male fragrance mixed with tobacco smoke. Then he was out of the door.
    She closed the door, but it wasn't so easy to shut out his existence from her mind. Turning, she walked back to the sink and the now lukewarm dishwater. Through the window she could see Sin effortlessly jogging back the way he had come.
    "I don't want you to encourage him to make social calls here, Adam," she stated, recalling her father's parting invitation. "I want the relationship to remain strictly landlord and tenant minus needless personal complications."
    "I'm sure Sin is aware of your views," he replied in a dryly exasperated tone.
    "I don't want you making friends with him, Adam," Mara restated her demand.
    "You've never been concerned about who my friends are before. Why this sudden insistence that Sin Buchanan should not be among them?" Adam was both puzzled and intensely curious.
    "I told you." She didn't look up from the skillet she was cleaning. "He's a tenant. Business and friendship don't mix."
    "There's no business involved—at least, not between Sin and myself. He leases the cottage from you, not me," he reminded her. "So that argument doesn't stand up."
    "Yes, I leased him the cottage," Mara snapped, "but I don't want him in this house!"
    A slow half smile spread across her father's mouth. "He bothers you, doesn't he?" He tipped his head to one side, studying her in a considering manner.
    "I don't know what you mean." She turned the tap on full force to rinse the soapsuds from the skillet.
    "No," he replied and then paused. "Probably you don't."
    Mara didn't want to explore the reasons behind that remark. "What are you going to do if Sinclair Buchanan comes here again?" she demanded.
    "He's my neighbor. If he comes, I'll invite him in," Adam stated.
    "You'd do that after what I've just asked you?" She turned on him roundly.
    "I not only would, but