Winter's Edge by Anne Stuart Read Free Book Online

wanted her
     
    back, and he didn’t want her sleeping two doors away from him, totally immune to him.
    He wanted to be immune to her. Oblivious. To be able to ignore her, and the way she crawled beneath his skin, danced in his blood. His feelings for her should have been over long ago. They were never very sensible-she was a decade younger than he was, a sixteen-year-old child when he’d first seen her, a twenty three-year-old child when he’d made the very dire mistake of marrying her.
    And he couldn’t blame anyone but himself. Sure, his damned autocratic father had set things in motion, determined to get his way, even beyond the grave. But Patrick had never danced to his tune. And marrying Jared Winters’s chosen one should have been the last thing he’d do.
    But the problem was damnably simple. His father had always known him far too well, for all they’d fought like eats and dogs. He’d chosen Molly for him, for the simple reason that he knew Patrick wanted her.
    Wanted her desperately.
    Well, he’d gotten her. And desperation as well. He’d made his bed, and he’d lie in it alone. Until Molly was out of his house, out of his life, for good. And then, maybe he’d be able to get her out of his soul as well.

Chapter Four
    The room was dark and still when she awoke the next morning, alone in the wide, uncomfortable bed. She was sweating all over, and her hands were trembling. Shaking herself slightly, she rolled out of bed. A nightmare, she told herself, as she pushed open the heavy drapes and stared out into the early Pennsylvania morning. The sky was a sullen blue, not unlike Patrick’s eyes, and she felt as weighted down as the weather. She pushed open the window, hoping for a soft breed, but she was rewarded with an icy blast of cold. She slammed it shut quickly.
    The tiny gilt clock beside the massive bed said six-thirty, and she wondered whether she usually rose at such an early hour. She was in no mood to tempt fate with another nightmare—besides, she had too much she needed to learn. Maybe today was the day she’d . begin to find Out the answers to some of the thousands of questions plaguing her.
    She went through the connecting door to the tiny bathroom and scrubbed at her face fiercely with hot water and the designer soap in the gold soap dish.
     
    Looking into the mirror, she wondered once again at the oddness Of her surroundings: the cold, modern luxury everywhere in her rooms. A luxury that was both unnatural and stifling. But the reflection of that long oval face with the slanted green-blue eyes was that of a stranger, and could give her no answers.
    She dressed swiftly in the same clothes she’d worn the night before—from what she’d seen of the overstuffed contents of the closet and dresser there was nothing else even remotely suitable for an early spring day on a farm. Though Molly had the feeling this was no ordinary farm.
    The old kitchen was even more attractive in daylight. An old-fashioned brick hearth and oven took up one wall, and a small fire was crackling cheerfully, bringing a warmth to the room that was spiritual as well as physical. The gleaming wooden counter, the copper pots hanging from the whitewashed walls, the massive old cook stove and the harvest table created a feeling of simple needs and pleasures, and she found herself slightly, dangerously at peace for the first time since she’d arrived in Bucks County. For the first time since she’d woken up in that hospital room, just one short day ago.
    “My goodness, Mrs. Winters, what in the world are you doing up so early?” an amazed voice demanded from the pantry door.
    “I was planning on bringing you your breakfast in bed, same as I always did.” A starched, comfortable figure stood in the doorway, another unnerving sign of normalcy.
    “Good morning,” Molly greeted her hesitantly, taking in the woman’s graying hair, curious black eyes and general air of motherliness.
    “I decided it was too nice a day to