Read Online Alanna (When Hearts Dare Series Book 2) by Kathleen Bittner Roth - Free Book Online

Mr. Wolf. You told us you were a small child when your parents abandoned you in despicable Missouri.”
    “And?”
    “ And? ” Mrs. Malone’s flaming cheeks and drawn mouth told Wolf she had moved past any shred of courtesy she might extend him. “You are nothing more than an adult street urchin.”
    “A what?” Not only had his gut grown stone-cold, his heart had joined in.
    “A . . . a ragamuffin. And a border ruffian at that,” she sputtered.
    This time his heart felt a sharp stab of pain. “Mrs. Malone,” he began slowly, deliberately. “Not everyone raised in Missouri is an uncivilized border ruffian. I can assure you there are people residing there who are as sophisticated, as wealthy, and as philanthropic as the best in Boston. But are you actually telling me that if your daughter fell in love with a wealthy, self-made man who just happened to have spent a childhood fending for himself, that he would not be fit for her?”
    “Are you a wealthy, self-made man, Mr. Wolf?”
    “I wouldn’t call myself wealthy , but—”
    “Well, there you are.” She made a move to exit. “Once a street urchin, always a no-good.”
    A couple of long strides, and he stood in front of her, blocking her exit. She came to an abrupt halt to keep from running into him. A flicker of fear shot through the coldness in her eyes.
    “A few questions, Mrs. Malone, and then I’ll see you out.”
    The woman’s jaw slackened. Nonetheless, she boldly lifted her chin and met his hard gaze straight on.
    “As you wish.” Any attempt to sound strong and forceful failed—her voice wavered.
    His words emanated from deep within his chest, barely above a murmur, as he kept his emotions contained. “If you were ever to come across a ragamuffin, would you give him warm clothing on a cold winter’s night?”
    Mrs. Malone’s hand lurched to her throat.
    “And if a street urchin were ever to invade your home looking for food, would you have him arrested? Shot? Or would you see his roguishness as redeemable, and set yourself to give him the guidance he never received in his youth?”
    The tip of her tongue darted out to wet her lips, and she looked over his shoulder to the door, as if she was about to force her escape.
    “Perhaps,” he continued, “our conversation should take a different direction here. Perhaps, I should be telling you to advise your daughter to stay away from me .”
    She gasped.
    He moved to help the woman out the door, his hand held gently against her elbow. “One more thing, Mrs. Malone.”
    She turned back and paused in the doorway, confusion written all over her face.
    He winked. “We might want to keep this little clandestine meeting to ourselves.”
    She exhaled with a whoosh and nodded.
    “And let’s keep one other secret, shall we?”
    “What . . . what’s that?” she stammered.
    Waywardness engulfed him until it tilted the corners of his mouth. “Perhaps what you perceived to be a problem did not actually exist. But perhaps you managed to create one in the wake of your own fears.”
    Her eyes rounded, and her pudgy, ring-encrusted fingers crept to the base of her throat.
    He leaned casually against the doorjamb, crossed his arms over his chest, one closed fist still filled with beads. “Because, you see, warning me to stay away from anything”—his voice came low and mischievous—“even so much as a piece of apple pie, is like waving a red cape in front of this street urchin’s bullheaded face. Good day, madam.”
    He shut the door after the woman was well out of sight, and whistled lightly as he sauntered over to the table where he’d left the ginger tea bag. His thoughts ran curious now as to what the dinner hour might hold.
    As he reached for the bag, his hand brushed against the whiskey glass, sending it shattering against the coal grate. “Ah, hell.”
    He deposited the beads into the bag, and then bent to clean up the broken glass glittering under the sun’s rays streaming through the