Fortune's Mergers. Bronwyn Jameson

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      “Skylar Fortune.”

      Exhausted both mentally and physically from trying to keep all of Case’s family straight in her mind, she stripped off her coat and let it fall to the floor. “Steps, halves and wholes,” she said wearily and collapsed onto the sofa. “How on earth do you remember all their names?”

      Chuckling, he dropped beside her and cupped a hand at the base of her neck, squeezed. “Years of practice.”

      She moaned pitifully as he kneaded the tensed muscles of her neck. “Please don’t stop,” she begged.

      The telephone rang, but she ignored it.

      “Aren’t you going to answer that?” he asked.

      She shook her head. “I’m too tired to move. Whoever it is will just have to leave a message.”

      At that moment, the answering machine clicked on, playing her recorded message. Seconds later, a male voice came through the speaker, “Gina, it’s your father. Call me at your earliest convenience.”

      Ice shot through her veins at the sound of her father’s voice.

      “Aren’t you going to call him back?” Case asked.

      She turned her face away. “No.”

      “But it sounded important.”

      “I’m not interested in anything he has to say.”

      “Gina,” he scolded gently. “Isn’t that rather harsh?”

      “Actually I was being kind, considering how I feel about him.”

      “But he’s your father,” he reminded her.

      “My family’s not like yours,” she informed him. “My father and I have never been close. His choice, not mine.”

      He looked at her in puzzlement. “What do you mean, ‘his choice’?”

      “He never had time for me. Or for my mother, either, for that matter,” she added bitterly. “His one and only love is and always has been Reynolds Refining.”

      She saw the look of surprise on Case’s face and felt he deserved some kind of explanation. However she was reluctant to offer one, especially after meeting his family and seeing how close all the Fortunes were. She pushed to her feet and crossed to the window to stare out, needing to distance herself from him, while she shared her less-than-picture-perfect past.

      “My mother committed suicide,” she said, after a moment. “It was her last and final act to gain my father’s attention.” She shook her head sadly. “But I’m not sure she gained it even then. I know I never did.

      “After her death, he sent me away to boarding school. He rarely called, never came for visits. What communications we did have were filtered through his secretary. She sent my allowance each month, shopped for all my birthday and Christmas gifts and mailed them to me. After boarding school, I went on to college, and the pattern remained the same.”

      She heard Case rise, felt the weight of his hands on her shoulders, the nudge of his nose against her ear.

      “I’m sorry,” he said softly.

      She blinked back tears at the sympathy in his voice. “Don’t be. I’m not. Not anymore.”

      She stared out the window, remembering the years of neglect, the pain her father had caused her, as well as the means she’d found to finally sever her ties to him completely.

      “The only duty he ever felt toward me was a financial one, and when I was a junior in college, I finally found a way to free him of that obligation.”

      “How?”

      “My writing. I was still in college when I sold my first book.” She felt the same swell of satisfaction she had the day she’d received the call. “The advance check gave me the financial freedom I needed to cut him out of my life entirely.”

      “But you moved back to Sioux Falls,” he said, obviously wondering why she’d return to the place where her father lived. “Was it in hopes of reuniting with your father?”

      “Hardly,” she said wryly. “Sioux Falls is home to me, the only one I’ve never known. He robbed me of that and all that was familiar when he shipped me off to school.” She shook her head sadly. “I guess I’m slow, but it took me a while to realize that I had as much right to live here as he did. When I did, I packed up my things and moved back.”

      “And you haven’t seen him since your return?”

      “No. In fact, the phone call you just heard was the first time he’s attempted to contact me in years.”

      Finding the entire subject of her father depressing, she turned and forced a smile. “Now that you know all the dirt about my family, how about a glass of wine?”

      His gaze on hers, he lifted a hand and brushed her hair back from her face. “I have a better idea.”

      She shivered as he stroked a thumb beneath her eye. “W-what?”

      “This …”

      He bent his head and she closed her eyes in anticipation of his kiss. His lips touched hers once, sweetly, withdrew, then touched again. The tenderness in the gesture, the comfort she found in it, drew tears to her eyes. Lifting her arms, she wrapped them around his neck and gave herself up to the kiss, to him.

      With a low moan, he vised his arms around, drew her to her toes and deepened the kiss. His taste filled her, a heady aphrodisiac that flowed through her bloodstream and turned her bones to jelly. Everywhere his body touched hers tingled with awareness, anticipation. Need.

      His hands seemed to be everywhere at once. Squeezing the cheeks of her buttocks. Sweeping up her back. Framing her face. Her body responded to each and every touch. Arching. Heating. Aching for more. He slid a hand between their chests and covered her breast. Her breath grew ragged, her nipple rigid, as he gently kneaded the mound.

      Unable to breathe, to think, she dragged her mouth from his. “Case, please.”

      He rained kisses over her face, down her neck. “Please, what?”

      She knew what it was she wanted from him, what her body ached for. But she knew, too, that she couldn’t give in to that need.

      She shook her head. “I can’t do this.”

      He drew back far enough to peer at her. “Can’t, what?”

      “This,” she said in frustration.

      “Why not?”

      “I told you before. I’m saving myself for marriage.”

      “No sex until marriage?” he asked doubtfully. “Isn’t that rather extreme?”

      “Well, maybe engaged,” she conceded reluctantly. “But the commitment has to СКАЧАТЬ