Read Online Against All Odds by Irene Hannon - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Irene Hannon
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watching as she rested a hand on the Bible before filling a cup.
“I noticed the Bible yesterday. Interesting place to keep it,” he remarked.
“It’s a good way to start the day. It centers me.” She lifted the cup to her lips and looked at him over the rim. “I’m sorry if my insistence on attending church this morning is complicating things.”
“We have it covered.” He watched, momentarily distracted, as her lips tested the temperature of the liquid. “Mind if I ask you a question?”
Her expression grew wary. “Depends on the question.”
“It’s related to religion.”
“Okay.” She dropped her guard a fraction.
“My experience of Christianity is pretty much limited to an occasional visit to church for a wedding or funeral, but I seem to recall that one of the basic tenets is forgiveness. I’m having difficulty reconciling your obvious commitment to your faith with your bitterness toward your father.”
Although his comment was met with silence—and a cold stare—he caught the flicker of conflict in Monica’s eyes. Apparently he wasn’t the only one having difficulty reconciling the two.
“I guess you minded the question.” He cradled his mug in his hands and watched her.
“I didn’t hear one.”
“Touché.” He kept his tone casual and let a smile tease the corners of his mouth, hoping his relaxed approach would suggest conversation rather than confrontation. He was on shaky ground, and he knew it. But if understanding the rift helped him keep her safe, he’d risk pushing for information. “Let me rephrase. How do you justify your feelings toward your father in light of what your faith teaches?”
She took a long, slow sip of her coffee as she considered his question. Coop half expected her to brush it off. But to his surprise, she responded. “I can’t. But I can’t help how I feel, either.”
Coop let a few beats of silence tick by as he studied her. “You don’t strike me as the type to hold a grudge without just cause. What did he do to you, Monica?”
The quiet question was laid on a foundation of steel, and the subtle arch of her eyebrows told him she’d picked up on that.
“It’s a long story.”
“Mark takes long showers. And we don’t have to leave for church for a couple of hours.”
“Why do you want to hear it?” She’d turned the tables on him.
And he wasn’t sure how to answer. While there were security motivations behind his probing, in truth there were personal reasons too. But he couldn’t tell her that.
Gripping his mug, he chose his words with care. “I’ve always believed you can never have too much information about anything—or anyone—you’re involved with.”
She hesitated, as if debating her next move. “How about I give you the highlights?”
He let out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding in. “Fair enough.”
She took a seat at the table, and he moved to the counter to refill his cup. As he lifted the coffeepot, his gaze fell on the Bible. If he was a praying man, he’d be tempted to send a plea heavenward at this point, asking for God’s help and guidance. He could use both for the professional part of this assignment. Keeping Monica Callahan safe when she ventured out into the world was going to be a challenge.
But he was also worried about his own safety—in the emotional, not physical, sense. He’d worked with beautiful women on other assignments. Had dated more than his share of gorgeous females. And while many had tried, none had ever managed to tap into his deeper emotions.
Yet in one short day, the woman across the room—with zero effort—had breached the defenses around his heart.
He didn’t know how she had accomplished that feat. All he knew was that he was on dangerous ground. And that if he wasn’t careful, he’d be tempted to violate his long-standing vow to keep his distance in relationships.
Grasping the mug with one hand, he touched the Bible with the other. No question about
“I noticed the Bible yesterday. Interesting place to keep it,” he remarked.
“It’s a good way to start the day. It centers me.” She lifted the cup to her lips and looked at him over the rim. “I’m sorry if my insistence on attending church this morning is complicating things.”
“We have it covered.” He watched, momentarily distracted, as her lips tested the temperature of the liquid. “Mind if I ask you a question?”
Her expression grew wary. “Depends on the question.”
“It’s related to religion.”
“Okay.” She dropped her guard a fraction.
“My experience of Christianity is pretty much limited to an occasional visit to church for a wedding or funeral, but I seem to recall that one of the basic tenets is forgiveness. I’m having difficulty reconciling your obvious commitment to your faith with your bitterness toward your father.”
Although his comment was met with silence—and a cold stare—he caught the flicker of conflict in Monica’s eyes. Apparently he wasn’t the only one having difficulty reconciling the two.
“I guess you minded the question.” He cradled his mug in his hands and watched her.
“I didn’t hear one.”
“Touché.” He kept his tone casual and let a smile tease the corners of his mouth, hoping his relaxed approach would suggest conversation rather than confrontation. He was on shaky ground, and he knew it. But if understanding the rift helped him keep her safe, he’d risk pushing for information. “Let me rephrase. How do you justify your feelings toward your father in light of what your faith teaches?”
She took a long, slow sip of her coffee as she considered his question. Coop half expected her to brush it off. But to his surprise, she responded. “I can’t. But I can’t help how I feel, either.”
Coop let a few beats of silence tick by as he studied her. “You don’t strike me as the type to hold a grudge without just cause. What did he do to you, Monica?”
The quiet question was laid on a foundation of steel, and the subtle arch of her eyebrows told him she’d picked up on that.
“It’s a long story.”
“Mark takes long showers. And we don’t have to leave for church for a couple of hours.”
“Why do you want to hear it?” She’d turned the tables on him.
And he wasn’t sure how to answer. While there were security motivations behind his probing, in truth there were personal reasons too. But he couldn’t tell her that.
Gripping his mug, he chose his words with care. “I’ve always believed you can never have too much information about anything—or anyone—you’re involved with.”
She hesitated, as if debating her next move. “How about I give you the highlights?”
He let out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding in. “Fair enough.”
She took a seat at the table, and he moved to the counter to refill his cup. As he lifted the coffeepot, his gaze fell on the Bible. If he was a praying man, he’d be tempted to send a plea heavenward at this point, asking for God’s help and guidance. He could use both for the professional part of this assignment. Keeping Monica Callahan safe when she ventured out into the world was going to be a challenge.
But he was also worried about his own safety—in the emotional, not physical, sense. He’d worked with beautiful women on other assignments. Had dated more than his share of gorgeous females. And while many had tried, none had ever managed to tap into his deeper emotions.
Yet in one short day, the woman across the room—with zero effort—had breached the defenses around his heart.
He didn’t know how she had accomplished that feat. All he knew was that he was on dangerous ground. And that if he wasn’t careful, he’d be tempted to violate his long-standing vow to keep his distance in relationships.
Grasping the mug with one hand, he touched the Bible with the other. No question about
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