Read Online Brenda Joyce - [Francesca Cahill 06] by Deadly Promise - Free Book Online Page B

asked. And she had forgotten now about Emily. All she could think about was how unhappy this man was and that she was the cause.
    And he didn’t deserve unhappiness or pain. No one deserved a life of joy more than he. Bragg had earned it by a lifetime spent helping others.
    He stood, went to the door, and closed it. Then he faced her. “Do you love him?”
    She stiffened. And she could not find an answer to his question.
    “Well? If you are marrying him, you must love him!” Bragg was angry now.
    “I don’t know if I love him. I only know that my world was turned upside down the day you told me that you were married!” she cried, and it was the truth. “Nothing has been the same since.”
    “So your marrying him is my fault.”
    “I hardly said that.” She couldn’t believe they had come to this—it was as if they were foes and in the midst of a bitter battle.
    “It is my fault and we both know it. Because a month ago you were in my arms, Francesca, vowing eternal love to me, and now you are engaged to him!”
    She backed up. Because he was right. “A month ago Leigh Anne was in Europe, a wicked witch of a woman whom you despised, a woman with lovers, a woman who was never coming back!”
    “You know I wish she never came back,” he said almost viciously. “You know I despise her!”
    For one moment she could not speak. “I know no such thing.”
    “You also know that I don’t lie,” he said harshly. “Or has your plan to marry him led you to doubt my word, my integrity?”
    “I would never doubt your word or your integrity, and that wasn’t fair!” she cried, shaken.
    “And is your marrying Hart
fair?”
he asked bitterly.
    She fought for composure and could not find it. “Youare with Leigh Anne. I have every right to marry someone else.”
    “But it is temporary!”
    “Is it? And don’t jump on me and say I am doubting you.”
    “If you are not doubting me, then what are you doing?” he demanded.
    She took a breath. “I think,” she said carefully, “that you have very complicated feelings for your wife, and you refuse to be honest with yourself. I know you’d never lie to me deliberately, Bragg.”
    He stared. “Why are you doing this?” he finally asked. And it was a plea.
    His tone held anguish, and Francesca started forward, about to rush to him—to comfort him was automatic. But she stopped herself. “I am genuinely fond of Hart,” she heard herself say. “I enjoy being with him. He wants to marry me. I cannot seem to resist.” She didn’t add that she no longer wanted to resist.
    Bragg laughed, the sound harsh and unpleasant. “He hates me. He has hated me for as long as I can remember—and I remember the day our mother died, the day I tried to hold him in my arms and comfort him. He was only a small frightened and angry boy of ten. I had just turned twelve and I was every bit as frightened as he. Of course, I dared not reveal how I really felt. He pushed me away then and has done so ever since—and worse. He only wants you, Francesca, because I do. He only wants you to get at me.”
    She hugged herself. “That is not true. He is as genuinely fond of me.”
    Bragg rolled his eyes and stalked away, his back stiff with anger. Then he whirled. “You didn’t find the timing of his announcement a bit odd?”
    She became uncomfortable. “Yes, I did, actually. I’m sorry. I’m sorry you had to learn the way that you did. I wish I had told you privately, first.”
    “How can you even be thinking of marrying him?” he cried. “If you are in love with him, he will break yourheart—immediately, I believe. What are you doing? Are you, in some way that you do not realize, trying to punish me for allowing Leigh Anne to move into my home? How often must I repeat the fact that it is only temporary? You know we have agreed to divorce in six months—five, actually, now.”
    “I am not trying not punish you,” she gasped. “How can you say that? And will you stop sleeping with