Read Online My Feline Protector (Middlemarch Shifters Book 6) by Shelley Munro - Free Book Online
Authors: Shelley Munro
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words echoed her thoughts. But she hadn’t thought, hadn’t considered danger for herself. “Thank you. I’d enjoy the company.”
“I’ll pick you up at six thirty and we’ll go to Storm in a Teacup or we could go to the pub.”
“Storm in a Teacup sounds nice.” She’d enjoyed their visit the previous night and maybe someone to talk with would help dispel the numbness in her mind. “Six thirty,” she agreed.
Alone in the room, she went through Jenny’s belongings, since she’d have to move out soon. Jenny’s clothes and possessions. Packing brought tears to her eyes since each garment held a wealth of memories. The sparkly red shirt Jenny had purchased in Melbourne and the skinny jeans London had eyed with envy because she’d never cram her chunky legs into the tight denim. A possum-and-merino hat and scarf set she’d purchased in Queenstown. London stroked the scarf and tears filled her eyes. It was cooler today. She’d coveted the hats and scarves in the shop but couldn’t afford to buy one, not if she’d wanted to eat and visit attractions during the rest of their holiday. She’d told Jenny she had plenty of hats and scarves at home. The truth, yet not.
She set them aside to wear, telling herself Jenny wouldn’t mind.
Home. Royce? Sugar . Should she call Royce?
Officially, he was still Jenny’s husband. The man in Wellington had said they’d contact Royce, but should she too, for decency’s sake? She’d mentioned Jenny and Royce’s separation and the restraining order against him to the cops. She hadn’t told the rotund policeman, for a crazy instant, she’d thought she’d seen Royce last night.
A ludicrous idea.
Planes and Royce didn’t mix as he hated flying. One of the many reasons Jenny had decided on a trip to the other side of the world.
Reassured by the thought, she kept on with her folding and going through Jenny’s things. She pulled out Jenny’s suitcase and noticed something tucked into an inner pocket. Papers. Probably a hard copy of their travel itinerary. Jenny had copies on her laptop and phone and this was a backup. She pulled out the sheath of papers and flicked through them before coming to an envelope with her name written on it in her sister’s writing.
She stared at the papers, the words jumbling as more tears fell. Then, long seconds later, she opened the envelope and started reading.
Chapter Five
Stone Farm cottage, Gilcrest Station, outskirts of Middlemarch
The man stomped across the open ground, fury still pumping through his veins hours after the deed. The bitch had taunted him, told him she had a new lover, a new life, and she didn’t need him any longer. Surplus to requirements, she’d said. Surplus!
He strode along the path bordering a river. Several fishermen hailed him as he passed, their friendly greetings grating on his nerves. Bah! Why were they so happy? Stuck in this back end of the world with no entertainment, no decent restaurants, no whisky. God, he’d had to resort to common stuff when he only drank premium Scottish.
Why had the woman traveled halfway across the world?
She’d pushed him to act.
It was her fault she was dead.
He stopped at a bend in the river and dropped onto a seat placed beneath a willow. The afternoon had turned nippy, the cold whistling over the piles of schist rock and striking his face.
He cursed and cursed again.
All his problems started with women.
If she hadn’t taunted him, hadn’t boasted of her new love and told him what she done to best him, she’d still be alive. He’d have taken her to bed and made her scream, given her the pain she deserved, the prod that added spice to a loving and made him come hard. Fuck, he should’ve agreed to a baby when she’d suggested it to him. She wouldn’t have left him if they’d had a child.
Her fault.
Her fault.
Her fuckin’ fault .
His heart thumped so hard, he wondered if he was having a heart attack. He forced an extra big inhalation. Slow and
“I’ll pick you up at six thirty and we’ll go to Storm in a Teacup or we could go to the pub.”
“Storm in a Teacup sounds nice.” She’d enjoyed their visit the previous night and maybe someone to talk with would help dispel the numbness in her mind. “Six thirty,” she agreed.
Alone in the room, she went through Jenny’s belongings, since she’d have to move out soon. Jenny’s clothes and possessions. Packing brought tears to her eyes since each garment held a wealth of memories. The sparkly red shirt Jenny had purchased in Melbourne and the skinny jeans London had eyed with envy because she’d never cram her chunky legs into the tight denim. A possum-and-merino hat and scarf set she’d purchased in Queenstown. London stroked the scarf and tears filled her eyes. It was cooler today. She’d coveted the hats and scarves in the shop but couldn’t afford to buy one, not if she’d wanted to eat and visit attractions during the rest of their holiday. She’d told Jenny she had plenty of hats and scarves at home. The truth, yet not.
She set them aside to wear, telling herself Jenny wouldn’t mind.
Home. Royce? Sugar . Should she call Royce?
Officially, he was still Jenny’s husband. The man in Wellington had said they’d contact Royce, but should she too, for decency’s sake? She’d mentioned Jenny and Royce’s separation and the restraining order against him to the cops. She hadn’t told the rotund policeman, for a crazy instant, she’d thought she’d seen Royce last night.
A ludicrous idea.
Planes and Royce didn’t mix as he hated flying. One of the many reasons Jenny had decided on a trip to the other side of the world.
Reassured by the thought, she kept on with her folding and going through Jenny’s things. She pulled out Jenny’s suitcase and noticed something tucked into an inner pocket. Papers. Probably a hard copy of their travel itinerary. Jenny had copies on her laptop and phone and this was a backup. She pulled out the sheath of papers and flicked through them before coming to an envelope with her name written on it in her sister’s writing.
She stared at the papers, the words jumbling as more tears fell. Then, long seconds later, she opened the envelope and started reading.
Chapter Five
Stone Farm cottage, Gilcrest Station, outskirts of Middlemarch
The man stomped across the open ground, fury still pumping through his veins hours after the deed. The bitch had taunted him, told him she had a new lover, a new life, and she didn’t need him any longer. Surplus to requirements, she’d said. Surplus!
He strode along the path bordering a river. Several fishermen hailed him as he passed, their friendly greetings grating on his nerves. Bah! Why were they so happy? Stuck in this back end of the world with no entertainment, no decent restaurants, no whisky. God, he’d had to resort to common stuff when he only drank premium Scottish.
Why had the woman traveled halfway across the world?
She’d pushed him to act.
It was her fault she was dead.
He stopped at a bend in the river and dropped onto a seat placed beneath a willow. The afternoon had turned nippy, the cold whistling over the piles of schist rock and striking his face.
He cursed and cursed again.
All his problems started with women.
If she hadn’t taunted him, hadn’t boasted of her new love and told him what she done to best him, she’d still be alive. He’d have taken her to bed and made her scream, given her the pain she deserved, the prod that added spice to a loving and made him come hard. Fuck, he should’ve agreed to a baby when she’d suggested it to him. She wouldn’t have left him if they’d had a child.
Her fault.
Her fault.
Her fuckin’ fault .
His heart thumped so hard, he wondered if he was having a heart attack. He forced an extra big inhalation. Slow and
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