Read Online The Winning Hand by Nora Roberts - Free Book Online Page B

testily. “I’m not a moron.”
    “Some things you’re better off not learning.” He gave her shoulders a light squeeze when the phone began to ring. “Answer the phone.”
    She turned on her heel, stalked over to the desk and snatched up the receiver. “Yes? Hello?”
    “And who might this be?”
    The abrupt demand in a thick burr was so commanding she answered immediately. “This is Darcy Wallace.”
    “Wallace? Wallace, is it? And would you spring from William Wallace, the great hero of Scotland?”
    “Actually …” Confusion had her pushing a hand through her hair. “He’s an ancestor on my father’s side.”
    “Good blood. Strong stock. You can be proud of your heritage, lass. Darcy, is it? And are you a married woman, Darcy Wallace?”
    “No, I’m not. I—” She snapped back and her brows drew together. “Excuse me, who is this?”
    “This is Daniel MacGregor, and I’m pleased to make your acquaintance.”
    She managed to close her mouth, take a breath. “How do you do, Mr. MacGregor?”
    “I do fine, fine and dandy, Darcy Wallace. I’m told my grandson is paying a call on you.”
    “Yes, he’s here.” Weren’t her lips still tingling from his? “Um. Would you like to speak to him?”
    “That I would. You have a fine, clear voice. How old might you be?”
    “I’m twenty-three.”
    “I wager you’re a healthy girl, too.”
    Totally at sea, she nodded her head. “Yes, I’m healthy.” She only blinked at Mac when he cursed under his breath and grabbed the phone away from her.
    “Shall I check her teeth for you, Grandpa?”
    “There you are.” Pleasure, and no remorse, rang in Daniel’s voice. “Your secretary transferred me. Of course, I wouldn’t have to be transferred all over hell and back to have a word with my oldest grandchild if you ever bothered to call your grandmother. She’s feeling neglected.”
    It was an old ploy, and made Mac sigh. “I called you and Grandma less than a week ago.”
    “At our age, boy, a week’s a lifetime.”
    “Bull.” He couldn’t stop the smile. “You’ll both live forever.”
    “That’s the plan. So, I hear from your mother—who bothers to call home from time to time—that you lost yourself a million-eight and change.”
    Mac ran his tongue around his teeth, glancing over as Darcy wandered to the window. “You win some, you lose some.”
    “True enough. And was the lass I was just speaking to the one who scalped you?”
    “Yes.”
    “A Wallace. Good, clear voice, good manners. Is she pretty?”
    Mac eased a hip on the desk. He knew his grandfather well. “Not bad, if you overlook the hunchback and the crossed eyes.” Idly he flipped open the notebook on the desk as Daniel’s hearty laughter rang in his ear.
    “She’s pretty then. Got your eye on her, do you?”
    Mac lifted his gaze from the pages crowded with margin-to-margin writing, and studied the way Darcy stood facing the window. The sun was a halo over her hair. Her hands were linked together in front of her. She looked as delicate as a wildflower in the unforgiving heat of the desert.
    “No.” He said it definitely, finally, wanting to mean it. “I don’t.”
    “And why not? Are you going to stay single all your life? A man your age needs a wife. You should be starting a family.”
    As Daniel blustered on about responsibility, duty, the family name, Mac cocked his head and read a page. It was about a woman sitting alone in the dark, watching the lights of the city outside her window. The sense of solitude, of separation, was wrenching.
    Thoughtfully he closed the book again, laying a hand over it as he watched Darcy watch the city. “But I’m having such fun, Grandpa,” he said, when Daniel finally paused for breath, “working my way through all the showgirls.”
    There was a moment’s pause, then a roar of laughter. “You always had a mouth on you. I miss you, Robbie.”
    Daniel was the only one who ever called Mac by his childhood name—and then he