Read Online Truly Married by Phyllis Halldorson - Free Book Online
Authors: Phyllis Halldorson
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adored him, and was unstinting in letting him know how she felt. So why had he stopped loving her? What had Elaine offered him that she hadn’t? She’d asked herself these questions time and again over the years and had found no answers.
She must have dozed, because the car was stopped and two big hands cupped her head and repositioned it gently as Fergus’s voice murmured gently but distinctly, “Wake up, honey. We’re home.”
She opened her eyes and sat up. A quick look around convinced her they were parked at the curb of one of the downtown city streets.
“This isn’t home,” she said. “Fergus, where are we?”
There was enough street light for her to see his small smile.
“We’re in the valet parking area of the Adams Mark Hotel. You’re going to spend the rest of the night here with me.”
Chapter Four
S haron woke up by degrees. Like a diver surfacing from the deep, she drifted through several layers of diminishing darkness until she gained enough control over her muscles to open her eyes. She found herself in an upscale hotel room, but not one of the Starlight’s.
Then the events of the previous day came back to her, and she groaned as she curled up in a ball and pulled the sheet over her head. Floyd Vancleave was dead, and she’d been arrested for murdering him!
Not that she hadn’t been mad enough to do the dastardly deed, but fortunately the idea hadn’t occurred to her. Instead, she’d walked out and left him furious with her, but alive and healthy.
Then Fergus had come to her rescue.
Just the memory of the shock she received when she walked into that interview room and saw him there made her heart pound and sent a tremor through her whole body.
He said Anna had called and told him she’d been arrested. She should be mad at her housemate for contacting Fergus without her permission, but after spending several hours in that jail cell, Sharon felt nothing but gratitude toward Anna for doing what Sharon had been too proud and stubborn to do.
So where was Fergus now? She shoved back the sheet and sat up, then saw her image reflected in the mirror of the dresser against the opposite wall. She was wearing only her panties and a man’s white T-shirt.
Dear heaven, where had that shirt come from? It must be Fergus’s, but she didn’t remember putting it on. Had he undressed her...?
No. No, of course not. Now it was coming back to her. She’d insisted on taking a shower before going to bed. After being in that jail cell she’d felt dirty all the way to her soul. Fergus had loaned her a shirt to sleep in.
A glance at the bedside clock told her it was 11:43 a.m. Her memory of what had taken place last night after Fergus had arrived was pretty jumbled. Apparently he’d been right about her being in shock, but she did remember that he’d brought her to his hotel instead of taking her home after she was released.
At first she’d objected, but then he’d told her he’d reserved a suite—a bedroom, and a living room with a pullout bed. She could have the bedroom complete with her own bath.
A wave of sadness washed over her. She should have known he had no intention of seducing her. He’d stopped wanting her a long time ago. Why else had he gotten involved with another woman? Even so, he’d been protective of her. A half smile tilted the corners of her mouth upward as she remembered how he’d even taken off his suit coat and put it around her when they’d entered the hotel so she wouldn’t be conspicuous walking through the lobby in her jail clothes.
Enough of this malingering, she thought, as she crawled out of bed and headed for the bathroom. She had to wake up and face Fergus and the mess she’d found herself in. He didn’t deserve to be kept waiting around all day.
Her ex-husband was a busy man, but still he’d apparently dropped everything to come all the way to St. Louis to try to pull her chestnuts out of the fire. The least she could do was stop feeling sorry for
She must have dozed, because the car was stopped and two big hands cupped her head and repositioned it gently as Fergus’s voice murmured gently but distinctly, “Wake up, honey. We’re home.”
She opened her eyes and sat up. A quick look around convinced her they were parked at the curb of one of the downtown city streets.
“This isn’t home,” she said. “Fergus, where are we?”
There was enough street light for her to see his small smile.
“We’re in the valet parking area of the Adams Mark Hotel. You’re going to spend the rest of the night here with me.”
Chapter Four
S haron woke up by degrees. Like a diver surfacing from the deep, she drifted through several layers of diminishing darkness until she gained enough control over her muscles to open her eyes. She found herself in an upscale hotel room, but not one of the Starlight’s.
Then the events of the previous day came back to her, and she groaned as she curled up in a ball and pulled the sheet over her head. Floyd Vancleave was dead, and she’d been arrested for murdering him!
Not that she hadn’t been mad enough to do the dastardly deed, but fortunately the idea hadn’t occurred to her. Instead, she’d walked out and left him furious with her, but alive and healthy.
Then Fergus had come to her rescue.
Just the memory of the shock she received when she walked into that interview room and saw him there made her heart pound and sent a tremor through her whole body.
He said Anna had called and told him she’d been arrested. She should be mad at her housemate for contacting Fergus without her permission, but after spending several hours in that jail cell, Sharon felt nothing but gratitude toward Anna for doing what Sharon had been too proud and stubborn to do.
So where was Fergus now? She shoved back the sheet and sat up, then saw her image reflected in the mirror of the dresser against the opposite wall. She was wearing only her panties and a man’s white T-shirt.
Dear heaven, where had that shirt come from? It must be Fergus’s, but she didn’t remember putting it on. Had he undressed her...?
No. No, of course not. Now it was coming back to her. She’d insisted on taking a shower before going to bed. After being in that jail cell she’d felt dirty all the way to her soul. Fergus had loaned her a shirt to sleep in.
A glance at the bedside clock told her it was 11:43 a.m. Her memory of what had taken place last night after Fergus had arrived was pretty jumbled. Apparently he’d been right about her being in shock, but she did remember that he’d brought her to his hotel instead of taking her home after she was released.
At first she’d objected, but then he’d told her he’d reserved a suite—a bedroom, and a living room with a pullout bed. She could have the bedroom complete with her own bath.
A wave of sadness washed over her. She should have known he had no intention of seducing her. He’d stopped wanting her a long time ago. Why else had he gotten involved with another woman? Even so, he’d been protective of her. A half smile tilted the corners of her mouth upward as she remembered how he’d even taken off his suit coat and put it around her when they’d entered the hotel so she wouldn’t be conspicuous walking through the lobby in her jail clothes.
Enough of this malingering, she thought, as she crawled out of bed and headed for the bathroom. She had to wake up and face Fergus and the mess she’d found herself in. He didn’t deserve to be kept waiting around all day.
Her ex-husband was a busy man, but still he’d apparently dropped everything to come all the way to St. Louis to try to pull her chestnuts out of the fire. The least she could do was stop feeling sorry for
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