Read Online Christmas Confidential by Marilyn Pappano; Linda Conrad - Free Book Online

the money for his client? A few sweet words from him about just seeing her safely to her destination would have felt good, for about as long as it took her to remember that all his sweet words and actions last year had just been part of his job.
    No, she preferred honesty, even if his lack of denial did send a bit of regret shivering through her. She already had so many regrets—though not about taking the money. Her father owed them that, down to the last penny. Nothing she’d done to protect her mother or herself niggled at her conscience, either. They’d had to survive in a world that didn’t offer much help, so she made no apologies.
    She did regret the life she hadn’t lived. Once Social Services had come around, she never had another real friend. She’d learned to not even open herself to the possibility. She’d kept everyone at an emotional distance, and when she was old enough, she’d fixated on finding Sophy, Oliver, Chloe and their father and getting the money he owed them.
    And she regretted that the first person she’d chosen to trust since her mother’s death had been Dean. Sweet, charming, sexy, stubborn Dean. She’d opened herself to that possibility, all right, and look what it had gotten her.
    Learn from your mistakes. That had been a common refrain in prison.
    Men were put here to break our hearts, baby. Mom’s best advice.
    She wouldn’t start wanting anything sweet from Dean. She would prove she’d learned from that mistake.
    Before she could decide exactly how she would prove it, Dean muttered, “Damn.” She looked at him, then followed his tense gaze to the road. There was plenty of distance between him and the next vehicle—he was careful about that—but in front of it, traffic was slowing, brake lights flashing like a Christmas display gone wild. As she watched, far ahead a tractor-trailer jackknifed and slid as if in slow motion to block both lanes. She imagined she could hear the crumpling of metal and shattering of glass as the vehicles immediately behind it crashed into each other. At the same time she muttered a silent curse, Dean whispered a soft prayer.
    He braked, three quick taps, and began to steer the car toward the shoulder. Her fingers knotting in Boo’s fur, she glanced in the rearview mirror and gasped. “Dean!”
    A white pickup was bearing down on them, the vehicle high enough off the ground that all she could see was grille and one headlight. Breath catching in her lungs, she whispered in her head— please, please, please —and waited for the collision, the force that would whip them forward within their seat belts, that would crumple the trunk and fenders and probably a good part of the car’s interior if the damn giant truck didn’t just roll over them like a dozer.
    Dean jerked the wheel hard to the right, across the shoulder and into the grass, and the truck sailed past with no more than a few inches’ clearance. The Charger skidded sideways a few feet before stopping near the edge of a culvert. As far as Miri could see, the occupants of the truck didn’t even glance back, and the driver didn’t stop to make sure they were all right.
    The snow dampened the traffic sounds and collected in fragile blobs on the passenger windows while the wipers still worked to clear the windshield. Her breathing was audible over the rush of the heater, and suddenly she was so cold she couldn’t register the warm air blowing over her.
    “Are you okay?”
    She breathed. “Yeah. More importantly, no dings on the car.”
    The sound he made was derisive. “Don’t you love the Christmas spirit in all these good Samaritans stopping to see if we need help?”
    “We didn’t actually hit anything, and it’s probably all they can do to concentrate on not winding up here themselves.”
    He gave her an incredulous look. “Miriam Scrooge defending the common holiday traveler?”
    “I’m not a Scrooge.” She paused a moment. “I prefer Grinch.”
    His chuckle had a startled