Read Online The Stranger: The Heroes of Heyday (Harlequin Superromance No. 1266) by Kathleen O`Brien - Free Book Online Page B

couldn’t breathe properly. She had to get off.
    â€œI want to tell you how much we’re enjoying your lovely little sister. It’s not an easy life, campaigning. She’s young, I told Freddy that might be a problem,but she’s doing real well. She’s handling things like a trouper. And of course, she’s pretty as a picture.”
    Mallory tried another smile, hoping he’d assume the rain was responsible for its unnatural quality. He had two or three men with him, all in elegant black coats with large, shiny black umbrellas shielding them—and him—from the rain.
    She, on the other hand, probably really did look like a drowned rat.
    Worst of all, he was so loud. He might as well have been shining a spotlight on her.
    â€œYes,” she said valiantly, keeping her voice low. “Mindy is a wonderful person.”
    The boat was coming to a stop. She had no idea where they were, but it didn’t matter. This was her exit.
    But Phil Earnshaw was ready to move on anyhow. Politicians had to work the crowd. “Super to see you,” he was saying again, this time patting her hard on the shoulder. “Just super.”
    Finally he and his entourage were gone, though several of the other passengers were still staring at her, wondering what that had been all about. With shaking fingers, she pulled the drawstring of her hood tighter and bent to pick up her purse.
    And that’s when she realized that the money was gone.
    Â 
    W HEN THE DOORBELL RANG , Mindy looked up at the clock guiltily. How could it be midnight already? She’d been sitting here with the sketch pad in her lapfor the past four hours, and yet it felt like about forty-five minutes, at most.
    She slipped the paper under the sofa cushion, cast a quick glance in the mirror and hurried to let Freddy in.
    â€œBaby!” He swooped through the door, his arms full of white roses. He waved them at her with a flourish and then, depositing them on the table, he pulled her up against his chest. “We missed you tonight. Are you feeling any better?”
    â€œLots,” she said, pressing her nose into his shirt and taking a deep breath. She loved the cologne he wore to parties. If only she didn’t hate the parties so much. “Headache’s all gone.”
    He kissed the top of her head. “I’m glad. Poor baby, I hated to think of you here all alone tonight, with no one to rub your head.”
    She shut her eyes, fighting back the guilt. He was too good—she didn’t deserve him. There hadn’t been any headache, of course. Every now and then, she just couldn’t face one of the seemingly endless events on his social calendar.
    Usually it happened when she was feeling tired, or insecure about her looks. If her face broke out, or if she had premenstrual bloating, or if she just couldn’t afford anything new to wear, sometimes she told him she had a headache and stayed home. He thought she was devastated to miss the excitement, but she was secretly thrilled to have an entire evening to draw and watch TV and slouch around in an old T-shirt and socks.
    Lately, though, she’d been letting herself do that too often. She’d have to watch out. Freddy was beginning to worry. As he left tonight, he’d said maybe she should go see a doctor, find out what was causing all the headaches.
    He guided her to the sofa now and sat down, ready for a cuddle. But, as he sat, the sketch pad she’d hidden beneath the cushion crinkled noisily. He lifted slightly, felt around beneath his knees and pulled out the incriminating papers.
    He frowned at her, half teasing, but half genuine disappointment. “Mindy,” he said as he flipped through the pages. “You were supposed to be sleeping.”
    â€œI did sleep,” she said. “But when I woke up, I needed something to do. I didn’t draw for long, only after my headache was better.” She looked up at him.