While the Fire Rages by Joan Hohl Read Free Book Online Page B

at his teeth, barely withdrawing in time to prevent being lacerated by his descending hard upper teeth. Will you knock it off? She belongs to him! His hard white molars clamped together in frustration and self-disgust.
    She belongs to him.
    Without conscious thought, Brett’s spine straightened and his shoulders squared. Face it, chum, he advised himself reluctantly. When Wolf comes back, should he so choose, it will be to take over Jo as well as the region.
    Hot rebellion, more fierce than he’d felt throughout his rebellious teenage years, seared Brett’s emotions. In an effort at maintaining control, he breathed in, slowly, deeply repeating the same phrase over and over in his mind: You’re out of line here, she is his.
    His ploy at self-chastisement was a total failure, for the rebel in his mind chanted back: He can no longer have her, I will make her mine.
    Back and forth, the battle raged between control and rebellion, rendering him temporarily motionless while both vied for supremacy. The deciding factor came not from within but from without.
    “Brett, I’m sorry to bother you.”Jo’s voice was entirely free of facetiousness. She genuinely sounded sorry about having to intrude on his thoughts; she also sounded genuinely confused. ‘There’s something here I don’t quite understand.”
    His given name, coming voluntarily from her soft lips, whipped Brett around as if he were attached to a string she held tightly in her slim fingers. Brett breathed a sigh of relief on realizing Jo had not witnessed his humiliatingly swift snap to obedience. Gleaming head bent, Jo scowled in consternation at the folder in her hands.
    “Concerning what?” Strolling slowly—to make up for his earlier quickness?—to the desk, Brett held out one hand for the source of her confusion.
    “The Vermont project.” Unaware of his outstretched hand, Jo pursed her lips at the printed words under her perusal. “I thought Wolf had decided to scrap the idea of yet another condominium complex aimed at the skiing set, but, from the info here, he must have continued the preliminary investigation on his own.”
    Halting at the side of the desk, Brett leaned toward her. For a fleeting half instant he hesitated, fighting the impulse to slide his hand under her chin, tilt her head up, and taste her pursing lips with his own. The effort required to bypass her head and pluck the folder from her hands was evidenced by the barely discernable tremor in his fingers.
    Jo had the good sense to remain quiet while he studied the folder’s contents. Gradually, the tension eased out of Brett as his eyes skimmed the printed lines on each successive sheet of paper contained within the folder’s cream-colored covers.
    Yes. Yes. A tiny smile played over Brett’s lips in appreciation of the thorough investigative job Wolf had done on the proposed project. Before he came to the final sheet, Brett fully agreed with his brother’s conclusions. The location was good. Wolf’s figures, if accurate—and Brett knew they would be—were well within reason for a complex of this size. The time for action was now if the groundwork was to be completed and excavation begun by late spring.
    Behind the printed sheets were several handwritten pages. Brett’s smile grew on recognition of Wolf’s slashing, straight-line penmanship. In a bold hand, Wolf had outlined a comprehensive, detailed directive on exactly how the official prospectus should be blocked out.
    Impressive bit of work, old son, Brett silently congratulated his elder sibling, then he mentally telegraphed a promise: You very obviously wanted this. I’m going to get it for you. It may not be much in exchange for your oh-so-exquisite plaything here, but thems the breaks, bro.
    Raising his head, Brett focused his attention on the hazel-eyed plaything sitting very quietly, very patiently at Wolf’s desk. Gazing into the amber-flecked depths, Brett reiterated what he’d known for a very long time. One could