Read Online Forever in My Heart by Jo Goodman - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jo Goodman
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side. She watched him go to the wardrobe and root through one of the drawers until he came away with a silver flask. He unscrewed the cap and raised it to his lips. "You may want to go easy with that," she said. "You're not at your best when you've been drinking."
Ignoring her, Connor took a long swallow. He capped the flask and slipped it inside his vest pocket.
Beryl's taffeta gown rustled and the iridescent shades of purple shimmered as she moved toward him. She put one hand on his forearm in an imploring gesture, but there was no hiding the edge of anger in her tone. "You're being ridiculous, Connor. You don't seriously mean to go through with this. That land can't be so damned important that you'd sell yourself for it."
"I think I'm proving that it is," he said quietly. He removed her hand from his forearm.
"But so cheaply?"
His short laugh held no humor. "We all have our price, Beryl.
Just because you held out for more . . ." He shrugged.
She slapped him hard.
Connor didn't retaliate. He pinned her with his stare, letting the heat and color of the imprint fade from his cheek before he spoke.
"I trust you have that out of your system," he said calmly. "The next time you even think about hitting me I'll lay you out."
Beryl had held her ground. At his icy, controlled words she took a step backward. "You good as called me a whore," she said.
"So?"
Beryl's beautiful features contorted with fury. "You bastard!"
Knowing that his calm was all the more infuriating to her, one of Connor's dark brows kicked up. "Bastard? I don't think so. God knows, though, had I been one I probably wouldn't have these problems.
That land would have been mine free and clear when my mother died, instead of ending up in my father's hands."
"If she had wanted you to have it she should have made a will," Beryl snapped. "Perhaps she meant for Rushton to have it. It forced you back to New York, didn't it? It forced you to acknowledge that you have a father. Perhaps Edie knew exactly what she was doing all along."
The fact that Beryl could be right did nothing for Connor's temperament. He had dwelled on the same idea himself, but it was another thing entirely to hear it from her. He had never thought of himself as unreasonable yet he was being forced to reconsider that opinion. "Leave it alone, Beryl. My mother's wishes had nothing whatsoever to do with you."
The strain of anger dissolved in Beryl's features. High color receded from her complexion, leaving it milk-white and smooth. Her full mouth settled in serene composition. The pale blue of her eyes was emphasized by the dark centers and the glistening wash of unshed tears.
"Do you really hate me so much, Connor, that you can't even contemplate that I might be right? Is it so intolerable to give me my due?"
Yes, he thought, it was intolerable. He said nothing and turned away.
Did he hate her? he wondered. Or did he hate himself? It wasn't easy to admit that, against all reason, he could still find himself attracted to her. That was the power she held over him, that in spite of everything he could not quite manage to feel the indifference he feigned. To feel nothing at all would be liberating; hatred bound him.
It didn't matter that it was unfair. He resented her all the more for that. He found some small comfort in the fact that he didn't love her, had probably never loved her. That would have been unendurable.
"We should be going," he said. "That is, if you're still planning to accompany Father and me. I assure you it isn't necessary."
"I'm well aware of that, but the invitation included me." She walked to the full-length mirror again and smoothed the crown of her deep chestnut hair. She curled a tendril at her ear with her index finger.
"And I'm insatiably curious," she said. "I want to meet the man who thinks he can buy you for his daughter." Her smile was wickedly beautiful. "And I want to meet the
Ignoring her, Connor took a long swallow. He capped the flask and slipped it inside his vest pocket.
Beryl's taffeta gown rustled and the iridescent shades of purple shimmered as she moved toward him. She put one hand on his forearm in an imploring gesture, but there was no hiding the edge of anger in her tone. "You're being ridiculous, Connor. You don't seriously mean to go through with this. That land can't be so damned important that you'd sell yourself for it."
"I think I'm proving that it is," he said quietly. He removed her hand from his forearm.
"But so cheaply?"
His short laugh held no humor. "We all have our price, Beryl.
Just because you held out for more . . ." He shrugged.
She slapped him hard.
Connor didn't retaliate. He pinned her with his stare, letting the heat and color of the imprint fade from his cheek before he spoke.
"I trust you have that out of your system," he said calmly. "The next time you even think about hitting me I'll lay you out."
Beryl had held her ground. At his icy, controlled words she took a step backward. "You good as called me a whore," she said.
"So?"
Beryl's beautiful features contorted with fury. "You bastard!"
Knowing that his calm was all the more infuriating to her, one of Connor's dark brows kicked up. "Bastard? I don't think so. God knows, though, had I been one I probably wouldn't have these problems.
That land would have been mine free and clear when my mother died, instead of ending up in my father's hands."
"If she had wanted you to have it she should have made a will," Beryl snapped. "Perhaps she meant for Rushton to have it. It forced you back to New York, didn't it? It forced you to acknowledge that you have a father. Perhaps Edie knew exactly what she was doing all along."
The fact that Beryl could be right did nothing for Connor's temperament. He had dwelled on the same idea himself, but it was another thing entirely to hear it from her. He had never thought of himself as unreasonable yet he was being forced to reconsider that opinion. "Leave it alone, Beryl. My mother's wishes had nothing whatsoever to do with you."
The strain of anger dissolved in Beryl's features. High color receded from her complexion, leaving it milk-white and smooth. Her full mouth settled in serene composition. The pale blue of her eyes was emphasized by the dark centers and the glistening wash of unshed tears.
"Do you really hate me so much, Connor, that you can't even contemplate that I might be right? Is it so intolerable to give me my due?"
Yes, he thought, it was intolerable. He said nothing and turned away.
Did he hate her? he wondered. Or did he hate himself? It wasn't easy to admit that, against all reason, he could still find himself attracted to her. That was the power she held over him, that in spite of everything he could not quite manage to feel the indifference he feigned. To feel nothing at all would be liberating; hatred bound him.
It didn't matter that it was unfair. He resented her all the more for that. He found some small comfort in the fact that he didn't love her, had probably never loved her. That would have been unendurable.
"We should be going," he said. "That is, if you're still planning to accompany Father and me. I assure you it isn't necessary."
"I'm well aware of that, but the invitation included me." She walked to the full-length mirror again and smoothed the crown of her deep chestnut hair. She curled a tendril at her ear with her index finger.
"And I'm insatiably curious," she said. "I want to meet the man who thinks he can buy you for his daughter." Her smile was wickedly beautiful. "And I want to meet the
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