âPrimânâProperâ Turner had caught herself out. What had she been thinking? The way she was sitting up now, so stiff backed and strait-laced, she could have been a Victorian spinster school teacher on her way to meet her new school in a village full of head hunters.
But she wasnât as strait-laced and spinsterish as she liked to make out, he knew that first hand. Sheâd been no unbendable block of concrete in his hands. Instead, sheâd felt all woman, a combination of tantalising dips and sweet curves, her feminine scent beguiling, her lips a silken caress.
He almost growled at the memory. And she was here now, on his island, in his territory. How would Fletcher react to that news? An eye for an eye, a sister for a sister.
Which reminded himâ¦
âHow is it your name is Turner?â
âExcuse me?â She swung her head round but not before heâd noticed how the breeze shook tendrils of her hair loose to curl around her face and sculpt the soft fabric of her dress so it clung to her breasts and playfully teased around her knees. Then she noticed the direction of his eyes and tucked the wayward material under her legs. He didnât mind that either, because now it only highlighted the elegant tapering of thigh to knees.
Long, shapely legs. Nice breasts. He could only imagine what other treats the surprising Miss Turner had in store. A pity, reallyâ¦
âYouâre nameâs Turner,â he said, pulling his thoughts back into line. âNot Fletcher. But you werenât married, you said, or at least youâre not now. Fletcher never mentioned having a sister.â
She hesitated, and he sensed the cogs in her brain working out his angle. She didnât trust him, that much was obvious, although she was beginning to lose a little of that abrasive defensiveness. All that talk about what kind of car he droveâsheâd been thinking about him, and heâd lay odds she hadnât been thinking about automobiles. Finally, when heâd almost given up on a response, he picked up her shrug in his peripheral vision.
âItâs no big secret,â she began on a sigh, almost as if resigned to the fact heâd find out eventually anyway. âOur parents separated when I was barely a year old, splittingeverything in two, including the kids. Dad kept Jake, Mum took me. She changed my name to hers, I guess so she didnât have a constant reminder of her ex. I didnât know about any of it for years.â
The gears in Danielâs mind crunched. So she was Fletcherâs sister, as sheâd claimed. Joâs digging would confirm it, but he had no doubt she was telling the truth. Which meant that she probably was in on whatever her brother had planned to make this so-called marriage look as legitimate as possible in order to extract the best settlement. âSo, how did you two find each other again?â
The buggy sped along the narrow track. Glimpses of brilliant sunshine and a sapphire sea appeared only to be swallowed up again by the foliage.
âMum died two years ago. Some lawyer told me then that I had a brother. Iâd had no idea. I was too young to remember anything. We met for the first time at her funeral. And thatâs when I learned that our father had died ten years before. My mother neverâ¦â
Her voice broke. He glanced over, but she wasnât looking at him, her eyes appeared fixed on some point ahead of them as she took a deep breath, her breasts rising under the slip of silk.
âAnyway, thatâs the whole gruesome story.â
She sounded so lost and alone in that instant that it was his turn to take a deep breath. Next thing he knew, heâd be feeling sorry for herâFletcherâs sister, of all people! Besides, he remembered seeing Jakeâs old man once, sitting on the veranda of their timber house. The place had been practically falling down around him while heâd sucked
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