Read Online The Sapphire Pendant by Dara Girard - Free Book Online

tightened his grip around the steering wheel. He had a wild desire to say yes, just to shock her, but he knew she was up to something. After falling for a number of her pranks, he knew the pattern. “It’s a nice offer, but I’m really busy at the moment.”
    “Of course,” she said, attempting to appear nonchalant. Inside, she was burning like a lit oil spill. He was turning her down, rejecting her like a bad credit card. She felt like crawling out the door and scraping her pride off the road. He probably never would turn Deborah down, or Tracy, or the infant he took to the Ashford mansion. “You could have just said no, instead of offering a lame excuse that you’re busy. We’re not friends, so you don’t have to use your nice-guy act with me.”
    “Nice-guy act?” He smiled blandly. “Now, what’s that supposed to mean?”
    “It means that I, unlike most people, know the truth.”
    He rubbed his chin, trying to loosen his tightening jaw. “And what would that be?”
    “That you’re a fake. That you’re hiding the real you under a I. You play the game all other guys play, but you disguise it so cleverly. You use people—”
    He changed gears with more force than necessary. “I’ve never used anyone.”
    “You used me.”
    He softly swore, but kept his voice level. “Look, you’ve got it all wrong. You always have.”
    “I don’t want to talk about it.”
    He stared at her, incredulous. “You’re the one who brought it up.”
    “Will you please look at the road?”
    He did, glancing up at the street sign. “Aw, hell, I’m going the wrong way.” Again he made a sudden U-turn.
    “Do you always drive like this?” She held onto the door handles, her knuckles pale from strain.
    “Only with you in the car.”
    “I’m glad to know I have such an effect on you. I’d probably crash into a tree on purpose.”
    “Jasmine—”
    “Don’t call me that!”
    “Why not? It’s your name, isn’t it?” He paused. “It’s a beautiful name.”
    She laughed without humor. “Yes, my father had a sense of humor.”
    “What’s wrong with being called Jasmine?”
    “How would you like me to call you—”
    “Don’t,” he warned, knowing the name that was on her lips.
    It took an extra amount of restraint not to call him Kenny, the name for which he had given two boys bloody noses. No one could figure out why it bothered him so much.
    “Then you understand,” she said.
    “Fine, then. Jessie, we need to talk—”
    “I don’t want to talk about it.”
    “That’s because you enjoy being angry with me. You don’t want to know the truth.”
    “The truth is that you hurt me like no one ever has, and you betrayed me.” Her voice was almost a whisper. “That’s all I need to know.”
    Kenneth stared ahead at the smooth surface of the road until flashes of stars fell between his eyes. He squinted. Oh, hell, he wasn’t breathing again. He took a deep breath. Many thoughts crashed in his mind, but he couldn’t find the words to express them. They always came to the edge of discussing what had happened, but somehow she always pushed it to a standstill. It lingered between them like the scent of a rotten dish, at times faint, but still hanging in the air to be remembered.
    * * *
    They spent the rest of the drive in silence. Kenneth turned on the radio, but neither listened to the soothing sound of the steel pan filling the air, too wrapped in their own thoughts to care. He dropped her off in front of her house, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, determined not to say another word.
    “Thank you,” she grumbled, opening the door.
    She broke his resolve with those two words. Though they were spoken reluctantly, he felt that maybe he had a chance to redeem himself. He grabbed her hand.
    Jessie’s first instinct was to pull away, but she didn’t. She looked down at his hand and wondered if she had suffered a concussion, something to explain the strange fluttering in her stomach and heart.