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.I’d say it runs in the family,” she said as though understanding he would seek Jillian out wherever she went.The dinner set at the huge table was not a quiet affair with parents feeding children, the talk a blend of crops, family and Jillian’s work for Silver’s new ad campaign.Seated across from Adam, Jillian avoided looking at him.Then, in clearing the table, passing back and forth from the kitchen, she leaned close.“So you’re already spending my money and none of it on tickets out of here.I thought that was our agreement.You can’t stay and let this family provide for you.And you’d better not take the pickup truck that Liam loaned you when you go.Michelle says that truck is almost another baby to him.She’s quite fond of the hours they’ve spent together beneath it.”“I don’t remember any agreement between you and me, Jilly-dear,” he whispered back, and let his gaze wander appreciatively down her classic black sweater and slacks.The pearl strand was creamy and elegant and genuine, just like Jillian, bred for perfection, for the ideal life.But now there were curves filling out the cloth and the flash in her eyes spoke of anger—simmering and withheld, but real anger, just the same.“You’ve changed a bit since you were young and sweet.”Jillian sniffed, turned up her nose and hurried away to collect another stack of dishes.Adam crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall, waiting for her to pass by him and into the kitchen.She shot him a hot, narrowed-eyed glare.“They’ll see through you soon enough, Adam.They’ll try to put you to work and you’ll be stuck for answers and you’ll be gone, just when they are counting on you.”“Hmm.Work.Now there’s a new thought,” he returned lazily, thinking of all the lumber he’d cut and cleared, the horses he’d broken, the harvesting of crops, the ships he’d sailed and unloaded, the buildings he’d helped construct.More often than not, he’d dragged home at night, too tired to eat or sleep before the next day started it all over again.Even now, with Sam’s success, he preferred hard, exhausting physical labor to sleepless nights and mourning Sarah.She pushed the stack of dishes at him.“The other men are helping.You could do the same.You ate enough for two.”“So you noticed? I didn’t know I interested you so much.” Adam’s taunt belied his discomfort.He’d rarely been in family settings and was at odds with the duties of a guest.“You don’t.For them, you’ve got to do something with your life.So they won’t have a shirttail relative always needing money.You’ve got to be respectable,” she whispered at him, then glanced down at J.T.who was looking up at the adults curiously.“I’m working on it.Don’t worry, I won’t cash the check locally.No one will know you wrote one to me.”“You must have.Those toys are expensive.”“I like toys, and especially Sam the Truck,” J.T.stated firmly below the brewing, yet controlled argument.Adam handed the dishes back to her and picked up his nephew.“She’s pretty, isn’t she, J.T.?”“Aye,” J.T.murmured, and studied Jillian seriously with his gray eyes.He looped an arm around Adam’s shoulders.“But she’s lonely.There’s a boy at preschool with that same look.His mom just went to heaven.His dad works all the time.”“Mmm.Maybe there is a truck in the sack for him.Let’s go see,” Adam said, and carried the boy into the living room.He suspected that J.T.’s observation was correct, but now was not the time to question Jillian.He intended to make more time with her, to wipe away the memories that had haunted him for years.Why should she care about Adam Tallchief? Why would one look at him, standing with a child on his hip, a child that matched his gray eyes and glossy black hair, stun her? Why would the image of Adam, preparing to leave the Tallchiefs, their plaid slung over his peacoat excite her?Maybe as an artist, she was susceptible to images.Maybe as a woman, the biological tug to have a child of her own went straight to her womb.Maybe Adam Tallchief didn’t have her thinking straight; he brought the past and her pain with him, intent upon examining his own wounds.His face was hard now, not a boy’s, and those sleepy, careless looks he gave her didn’t fool her.The need for revenge coursed through him, the same as hers coursed through her.But she wouldn’t allow hers to erupt, to make the Tallchiefs uncomfortable.Jillian shoved open the door to her house and moved through the soft shadows.She preferred her comfortable, rented home to the bright revealing light.She stripped off her coat and lit a small arrangement of candles, intent upon having a quiet glass of wine to settle her nerves after the encounter with Adam.She poured sangria into a cup and kicked off her shoes.They were practical now, black leather flats and not dress heels as she once wore.She’d once had the perfect set of wineglasses, Irish crystal, and now she used a plain white cup purchased at a discount store.But then, she wasn’t hosting Kevin’s dinner parties as he wangled for a bid in an election, was she? She sipped the wine and thought how well the cup served her needs as a single woman, tossing away the past—but she couldn’t, could she? Not with Adam prowling through her mind, her dreams.She cupped the stoneware in one palm and circled the rim with her fingertip, enjoying the cool, smooth surface.Life should be the same, without any unexpected chips.Adam Tallchief was a big chip in the smooth life she wanted.He brought the past and anger with him, and storming out of her were emotions she didn’t want to unravel.She had to push him away, to forget him, to make him seem as inconsequential as—She turned at a noise, and found Adam sitting at her desk, sock-covered feet propped upon it, his hands locked behind his head.The cup she’d been admiring tumbled from her shaking fingers and crashed upon the floor.“You!”He rose slowly and came to kneel in front of her, picking up the pieces of the cup and dabbing away the drops of wine with a cloth.He stood, placed the pieces and the cloth in the sink and, while Jillian was considering her next move, asked softly, “What did O’Malley do to you?”What hadn’t he done? she thought wildly, intimidated by the size of Adam standing too close.He lifted his hand slowly, carefully, and as she watched, her throat dry, he stroked her hair with the lightest touch [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]