Read Online The Right Wife by Beverly Barton - Free Book Online

her true feelings?
    Thayer opened the iron gate for Maggie, and she rushed quickly to the carriage, Daisy only a step behind. Standing there by the horses was an enormous black man who stepped forward to help Maggie into her seat. She was as impressed by the immaculate newness of the well-tailored suit the man wore as she was by his vast size. He immediately turned to assist Daisy. Maggie noticed the way his dark eyes explored her servant from head to toe. She wondered what Daisy thought of this handsome buck.
    “This is Phineas,” Thayer said. “He’s Aaron’s man. Been with him over ten years. Isn’t that right?”
    “Yes, sir.” When Phineas smiled, his thick mustache curled upward. “I been looking after that man since he weren’t much more than a boy.”
    Thayer seated himself beside Maggie and motioned to Phineas that they were ready.
    “It will probably be best if you go in Aaron’s room without me,” Thayer said. “One look at me and he’s liable to start throwing things. I’m not sure he’s forgiven me for missing the bullet.”
     
    Maggie stood outside of room six, feeling hesitant about knocking. Running her hands down the skirt, she smoothed her dress and tried to calm her nervous trembling. Wishing she had taken time to change, she looked down at the blue percale that had been cut from the endless yards in one of her mother’s full-skirted dresses. The material had been slightly worn and faded long before she fashioned it into two dresses, one for herself and one for Jude. She supposed it was just as well that she hadn’t changed. Aaron had already seen her in her Sunday best, the dress she could never wear again because it was hopelessly stained with his blood.
    Taking a deep breath and uttering up a prayer, Maggie knocked on the dark wooden door. Her knock was so light that she knew no one could have heard it. Her second try was more forceful.
    “Go away!” Aaron’s angry voice blasted through the door.
    “Mr. Stone,” she called out, her voice quivering. “It’s Maggie Campbell. May I come in?”
    There was no reply, but Maggie could hear the sound of shuffling movement quite clearly. Suddenly the door swung open, revealing a half-dressed Aaron Stone glaring down at her.
    “Well, well, Miss Maggie,” he said. “To what do I owe the honor of this visit?”
    “I . . . er . . . I . . .” What am I doing here? she wondered. It was obvious that he wasn’t happy to see her, that he didn’t want her here.
    “How did Thayer persuade you to come?” he asked, his green eyes glowering with resentment.
    She stood there in the doorway, speechless, her soft pink mouth slightly ajar, and her honey-gold eyes gazing up at him in awe. She had never seen anything like the big man whose near nakedness hypnotized her.
    Aaron stood bare-chested and barefooted, an impressive six feet three, his huge arms planted squarely on each side of the doorframe. The stained bandage circled his middle, and the upper expanse of his broad chest was covered with an abundance of thick, sandy hair. His long, muscular legs were encased in a pair of unbuttoned trousers hanging loosely about his slim hips.
    “Well, don’t just stand there gaping,” he said. “Either come in or leave.”
    When he turned back into the room, Maggie stepped over the threshold and closed the door, unsure if she were doing the right thing. She knew it was very improper to be alone with a man in his hotel room, but where this man was concerned, she seemed to have lost all sense of reason.
    He slumped on the edge of the bed, a frown marring his handsome face as he groaned.
    Maggie moved farther into the room, going immediately to the bed. “You’ve hurt yourself with so much activity, Mr. Stone. You should be in bed.”
    Reaching out toward a box of cigars on the bedside table, he winced with pain, but stifled a grunt before it reached his lips. “Damn. Hand me a cigar.”
    “Please get in bed, Mr. Stone.”
    “I want a