Read Online The Hostage Bride by Janet Dailey - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Janet Dailey
Ads: Link
Symington and tell him to find someone else.” He dismissed that argument. “If it’s the money … how much would you make? Whatever it is, I’ll double it.”
Tamara recoiled as if he had slapped her. Bick slammed his fist against the steering wheel and cursed savagely. He could have killed himself for making such a blundering remark.
“Tamara, I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. I was only trying to tell you that I’d give you the money if you needed it. I’m not poor.” He glanced at her wary expression, proud and apprehensive. “No matter what I say you are going to think I’m trying to buy you, aren’t you?”
She hesitated. “No … not if that isn’t what you meant.”
“It isn’t.” He reached to caress her cheek with the back of his fingers, stroking its curve to the line of her jaw. Her lashes fluttered down. “I know what I went through last night all alone. I don’t know if I can take it tonight.”
“Bick … there is something I have to tell you,” she began.
“No.” He pressed his hand against her mouth, restraining the rage that suddenly burgeoned inside him. “I don’t want to hear any confessions. I know it’s supposed to be good for the soul, but it would play hell with my peace of mind. I know I won’t be the first man who has made love to you. I can accept that. But spare me the details. I don’t want to know who or when or why!”
She pulled his hand away from her mouth and leaned forward, an earnest frown tracing lines in her forehead. “But I—”
“Do you want proof?” Bick interrupted angrily. “All right, I’ll give you proof. Have your dinner and do your typing. I won’t interfere because I won’t be around. I’ll be in my own home going quietly out of my mind. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”
“Yes. But—”
He sighed and smiled at her wearily. “Then please get out of the car before I change my mind.”
She opened the door and hesitated. “Will I sound terribly shameless if I ask whether I’ll see you tomorrow?” A smile played with her lips,lips that Bick would have preferred to have against his own.
“I have a board meeting in the morning. It will probably run through lunchtime. They usually do,” he said grimly. “But I’ll … manage to see you sometime tomorrow.” The way she was obsessing him, he wouldn’t live through the day if he didn’t.
Tamara chewed at the inside of her lip as Bick drove away. She had let another opportunity escape her. Turning to the house, she resolved that, no matter what, she would tell him the truth tomorrow. He would understand. To a company the size of Taylor Business Machines, the amount of money she had “borrowed” would be a drop in the bucket. Besides, she was going to pay it back in full and with interest.
Restlessly, Bick prowled the rambling rooms of the large two-story house. The television set was turned on in the informal family room. A stereo was emitting mood music from the four speakers in the rec room. The notes for the morning board meeting were spread out over his desk in the library. A light was on in the kitchen, where the remains of his dinner waited on the countertop for the housekeeper’s arrival in the morning.
Pouring a drink from the crystal decanter in the living room, Bick set it down untouched to walk back to the library. He flipped through a Rolodex to the S’s and dialed the second number under Slater.
“Hello, Peggy. Bick Rutledge. I’d like to speakto Adam,” he requested the instant he received an answer.
“He isn’t here. He’s working late … or so he told me,” was the laughing reply.
“He is?” Bick frowned. “Where? Finishing up the Signet books?”
“That’s what he said.”
“Did he give you a telephone number?” he asked, since the switchboard would be closed.
“Yes.” Peggy Slater gave it to him.
“Thanks.” He hung up and dialed the number she had given him. It rang a half dozen times before it was answered. It was
Tamara recoiled as if he had slapped her. Bick slammed his fist against the steering wheel and cursed savagely. He could have killed himself for making such a blundering remark.
“Tamara, I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. I was only trying to tell you that I’d give you the money if you needed it. I’m not poor.” He glanced at her wary expression, proud and apprehensive. “No matter what I say you are going to think I’m trying to buy you, aren’t you?”
She hesitated. “No … not if that isn’t what you meant.”
“It isn’t.” He reached to caress her cheek with the back of his fingers, stroking its curve to the line of her jaw. Her lashes fluttered down. “I know what I went through last night all alone. I don’t know if I can take it tonight.”
“Bick … there is something I have to tell you,” she began.
“No.” He pressed his hand against her mouth, restraining the rage that suddenly burgeoned inside him. “I don’t want to hear any confessions. I know it’s supposed to be good for the soul, but it would play hell with my peace of mind. I know I won’t be the first man who has made love to you. I can accept that. But spare me the details. I don’t want to know who or when or why!”
She pulled his hand away from her mouth and leaned forward, an earnest frown tracing lines in her forehead. “But I—”
“Do you want proof?” Bick interrupted angrily. “All right, I’ll give you proof. Have your dinner and do your typing. I won’t interfere because I won’t be around. I’ll be in my own home going quietly out of my mind. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”
“Yes. But—”
He sighed and smiled at her wearily. “Then please get out of the car before I change my mind.”
She opened the door and hesitated. “Will I sound terribly shameless if I ask whether I’ll see you tomorrow?” A smile played with her lips,lips that Bick would have preferred to have against his own.
“I have a board meeting in the morning. It will probably run through lunchtime. They usually do,” he said grimly. “But I’ll … manage to see you sometime tomorrow.” The way she was obsessing him, he wouldn’t live through the day if he didn’t.
Tamara chewed at the inside of her lip as Bick drove away. She had let another opportunity escape her. Turning to the house, she resolved that, no matter what, she would tell him the truth tomorrow. He would understand. To a company the size of Taylor Business Machines, the amount of money she had “borrowed” would be a drop in the bucket. Besides, she was going to pay it back in full and with interest.
Restlessly, Bick prowled the rambling rooms of the large two-story house. The television set was turned on in the informal family room. A stereo was emitting mood music from the four speakers in the rec room. The notes for the morning board meeting were spread out over his desk in the library. A light was on in the kitchen, where the remains of his dinner waited on the countertop for the housekeeper’s arrival in the morning.
Pouring a drink from the crystal decanter in the living room, Bick set it down untouched to walk back to the library. He flipped through a Rolodex to the S’s and dialed the second number under Slater.
“Hello, Peggy. Bick Rutledge. I’d like to speakto Adam,” he requested the instant he received an answer.
“He isn’t here. He’s working late … or so he told me,” was the laughing reply.
“He is?” Bick frowned. “Where? Finishing up the Signet books?”
“That’s what he said.”
“Did he give you a telephone number?” he asked, since the switchboard would be closed.
“Yes.” Peggy Slater gave it to him.
“Thanks.” He hung up and dialed the number she had given him. It rang a half dozen times before it was answered. It was
Similar Books
