Read Online Her Sister's Secret (Mills & Boon Vintage Superromance) by Linda Style - Free Book Online
Authors: Linda Style
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you.”
Whitney hung up and as she did, a feeling of resolve settled within her.
This was going to work out. It just had to.
If she could get Tanya, who was not only her editor but her best friend, to agree to the book idea, she’d feel less vulnerable when she faced Gannon again.
A sharp twist of apprehension coiled in the pit of her stomach. Around Gannon her emotions took one erratic turn after another. His presence attacked her sensibilities, filling her with doubt and guilt and a whole lot of other reactions she didn’t want to acknowledge.
She closed her eyes and focused on the one thing she needed to do. One step at a time. She had to make this work. If she didn’t, she could lose everything.
The book was the vehicle through which she’d insinuate herself into Rhys Gannon’s life. Then, when she found SaraJane, she’d make her move.
If everything went well, Gannon would never know what hit him.
CHAPTER SIX
RHYS GATHERED the gearshift and a few other parts that had come in for the custom job he was working on, placed them in a box to take to the workshop and patted his pockets for the keys. It probably wasn’t necessary to keep the shop locked in a town like Estrade, but he did, anyway, from force of habit. The equipment was too expensive to take chances.
He grabbed the blueprint from the top of the file cabinet and unrolled the tube, smiling with satisfaction as he did. This was a far different career from what he’d been doing for the past twenty years, and far more gratifying.
He picked up a wrench and tossed it from one hand to the other, glancing around the vacant store before he headed out to the shop. Not a customer in sight.
When he bought the business a year ago, he’d had plans. Not big ones, just plans that went along with his need to change the direction of his life. But since then, with the trial taking up most of his time and money, he’d been unable to get things off the ground.
As much as he wished things had been different, they weren’t, and there was no point in thinking about what he couldn’t change. He’d get the money he needed…one way or another. He tossed the wrench into the box, pulled out his phone and called home.
“Hi, it’s me. How’s my girl?” Listening to his morning report, he grinned. At least some things had worked out.
SaraJane was safe and happy. It was the one part of his life that was going perfectly. And since it was the most important part, he wasn’t about to let anything screw it up.
“No, I didn’t call to check up on the photographer. Maybe she’ll come back, maybe she won’t. Makes no difference to me.”
He drew in a patient breath. “You’re impossible, you know that?” he said affectionately. “Besides, at forty-one, I don’t need a wingman. I can handle my personal life.” He paused. “Even if I haven’t done a spectacular job of it up to now.”
He listened for a moment. “Yes, I’ll be there at the usual time. See you then.”
He hung up and smiled at the framed photo of SaraJane he’d replaced on the desk. Her golden curls reminded him of the blond photographer who’d appeared out of nowhere and now had him thinking about her more often than he wanted.
He didn’t need a woman in his life right now. And when, or if, he ever did, it sure wouldn’t be a woman like Whitney Sheffield. He’d had enough divas to last six lifetimes.
Still, she unsettled him, made him wonder if her skin felt as smooth as it looked. Made him wonder how she’d feel naked against his bare chest, and if that long blond hair would slide through his fingers like silk. Yeah, he’d had a fantasy or two. But hell, he could wonder from here to Alaska, because he wasn’t going to do anything about it.
Not that he had to worry. She’d said she had to wind up some business in California, said she’d be back in a day or two, and that was three days ago. She’d probably blown him off without another thought—which wouldn’t surprise
Whitney hung up and as she did, a feeling of resolve settled within her.
This was going to work out. It just had to.
If she could get Tanya, who was not only her editor but her best friend, to agree to the book idea, she’d feel less vulnerable when she faced Gannon again.
A sharp twist of apprehension coiled in the pit of her stomach. Around Gannon her emotions took one erratic turn after another. His presence attacked her sensibilities, filling her with doubt and guilt and a whole lot of other reactions she didn’t want to acknowledge.
She closed her eyes and focused on the one thing she needed to do. One step at a time. She had to make this work. If she didn’t, she could lose everything.
The book was the vehicle through which she’d insinuate herself into Rhys Gannon’s life. Then, when she found SaraJane, she’d make her move.
If everything went well, Gannon would never know what hit him.
CHAPTER SIX
RHYS GATHERED the gearshift and a few other parts that had come in for the custom job he was working on, placed them in a box to take to the workshop and patted his pockets for the keys. It probably wasn’t necessary to keep the shop locked in a town like Estrade, but he did, anyway, from force of habit. The equipment was too expensive to take chances.
He grabbed the blueprint from the top of the file cabinet and unrolled the tube, smiling with satisfaction as he did. This was a far different career from what he’d been doing for the past twenty years, and far more gratifying.
He picked up a wrench and tossed it from one hand to the other, glancing around the vacant store before he headed out to the shop. Not a customer in sight.
When he bought the business a year ago, he’d had plans. Not big ones, just plans that went along with his need to change the direction of his life. But since then, with the trial taking up most of his time and money, he’d been unable to get things off the ground.
As much as he wished things had been different, they weren’t, and there was no point in thinking about what he couldn’t change. He’d get the money he needed…one way or another. He tossed the wrench into the box, pulled out his phone and called home.
“Hi, it’s me. How’s my girl?” Listening to his morning report, he grinned. At least some things had worked out.
SaraJane was safe and happy. It was the one part of his life that was going perfectly. And since it was the most important part, he wasn’t about to let anything screw it up.
“No, I didn’t call to check up on the photographer. Maybe she’ll come back, maybe she won’t. Makes no difference to me.”
He drew in a patient breath. “You’re impossible, you know that?” he said affectionately. “Besides, at forty-one, I don’t need a wingman. I can handle my personal life.” He paused. “Even if I haven’t done a spectacular job of it up to now.”
He listened for a moment. “Yes, I’ll be there at the usual time. See you then.”
He hung up and smiled at the framed photo of SaraJane he’d replaced on the desk. Her golden curls reminded him of the blond photographer who’d appeared out of nowhere and now had him thinking about her more often than he wanted.
He didn’t need a woman in his life right now. And when, or if, he ever did, it sure wouldn’t be a woman like Whitney Sheffield. He’d had enough divas to last six lifetimes.
Still, she unsettled him, made him wonder if her skin felt as smooth as it looked. Made him wonder how she’d feel naked against his bare chest, and if that long blond hair would slide through his fingers like silk. Yeah, he’d had a fantasy or two. But hell, he could wonder from here to Alaska, because he wasn’t going to do anything about it.
Not that he had to worry. She’d said she had to wind up some business in California, said she’d be back in a day or two, and that was three days ago. She’d probably blown him off without another thought—which wouldn’t surprise
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