Fortune's Legacy. Maureen Child

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СКАЧАТЬ did have a sense of humor.

      A twisted one.

      “What the heck was that about?” Isa demanded as soon as Kyra made it back to their table.

      She dropped into a chair, slapped one hand to her spinning stomach and reached for her margarita before she tried to answer her best friend. While the icy slush slid down her throat, Kyra tried to get a grip on the different feelings racing through her.

      But she just couldn’t do it.

      Finally, she lifted her gaze to her friend’s. “I have absolutely no idea.”

      Isa shook her head. “Not buying it, girlfriend,” she said flatly. “There is something going on between you two.”

      “He’s my boss.” Oh God, she’d danced with her boss. She’d gotten all hot and squishy while pressed up against Garrett Wolff. Kyra propped her elbows on the table and cupped her face in her hands. “This is so not good.”

      Isabella laughed, clearly enjoying herself. “Yes it is. God, Kyra, you’ve been so tightly wrapped the last few years, you might as well have been vacuum packed. It’s more than time that you cut loose a little.”

      Kyra lifted her head and glared at her friend. “Not with him.”

      “That wasn’t how it looked to me.”

      “Don’t you get it, Isa? The man holds my career in his tight fist. One word from him and I’m finished.”

      “Looked to me like he was thinking more about starting than finishing,” Isa said.

      “Yeah, but starting what? An affair?” Kyra groaned again. “God, that sounds so cheesy.”

      “But interesting, right?” Isa leaned on the table, crossing her arms on the glossy surface. “I mean, there was definitely some sparkage, right?”

      “Boy howdy.”

      “Excellent.”

      “Not excellent,” Kyra protested, though not quite as strongly as she should have.

      An affair with Garrett Wolff would be disastrous—and fabulous. Terrifying—and exciting.

      “It doesn’t have to be the end of the world, Kyra.”

      “Yeah, but it could be,” she said, then added, “and I can’t risk it. Can’t take the chance of putting my career on the line. I can’t fail, Isa. I owe my family that.”

      Isa had heard this before, so she leaned back in her chair and shook her head slowly. “You’re always thinking you owe something to somebody. So my question is, what do you owe yourself, Kyra? When do you get to do something just for you?”

      Good question.

      Kyra only wished she had an answer.

      Ryan Fortune drew in a long, shuddering breath and wondered how much longer he’d be able to accomplish that simple task.

      His body was shutting down. He felt it. The invader in his brain was winning the battle. He knew with a bone-deep certainty that there were only a handful of days left to him. If that.

      Lying against a stack of plump pillows, he shifted slightly in his bed, pleased to feel muscles respond to thought. Such a simple thing, really. To stretch. To feel the play of muscle and bone.

      To live.

      He stared up at the ceiling and watched the dance of sunlight and shadow across the pale surface. He felt the soft breeze slipping through the partially opened window, and he could smell spring on the wind. Through the open curtains, he saw the trees outside his bedroom, budding now after a cold, hard winter.

      He wished to hell he could be around to enjoy another spring. To curse another summer heat wave. Enjoy another Christmas. Hell, to do something as simple as walk the land, Lily’s hand firmly clasped in his.

      Frustration bubbled inside. His whole damn life he’d been a doer. He’d never been one to sit when he could stand, walk when he could run. He liked being in the thick of things. Holding out a hand to help those behind, while always reaching forward.

      He’d built a proud family. He’d increased the legacy left by his own father, and knew that his children would do the same.

      And still it wasn’t enough.

      He wasn’t ready to go. At sixty, he should have lots of years left. He should be able to sit on a damn rocking chair on the front porch of the Double Crown and watch his great-grandchildren playing in the sun.

      Hell, only a year ago he’d had grand dreams and plans, and now…he only wished he and Lily could stop and watch a sunset together again. He wished he had the strength to run his fingers through her hair, to kiss her, to make love to her one more time.

      Ryan’s eyes closed and a soft smile crossed his face as he remembered what his daddy used to say. If wishes were horses, beggars would ride.

      “You’re right, Dad,” he whispered, as if Kingston Fortune were there in the room with him. Who knew, maybe his spirit was there, getting ready to escort Ryan’s soul on its trip to…wherever.

      Funny. His mind kept drifting. Never used to be like that. Used to be able to concentrate. Focus. Now… “No more wishing,” he whispered into the silence of his room. “Instead, I’ll just remember what I’ve had.” More than most, that was for damn certain, he assured himself.

      He’d loved and been loved by two women in his life. He’d raised children and known the love of family, which when you came right down to it, was all that meant anything.

      He frowned and gave a short sigh—all he could spare. He’d made mistakes; all men did. He regretted some, but others had caused good things to happen in the end, so it was hard to be sorry about them. Still, he’d tried to do his best. Tried to make a difference—not only for his family, but for the world. He’d tried. Damn, he’d tried.

      He only wished he knew if he’d succeeded.

      “Ryan, honey?”

      He opened his eyes and turned his head on the pillow, following the voice that he knew would be with him through eternity.

      “Still beautiful,” he whispered, and watched his wife’s luscious mouth curve into a smile.

      “Silly man,” she said, and unnecessarily straightened the sheet and light blanket covering him. Smoothing, running her fingertips across the fine linen, she avoided looking at him.

      She did that so often these last few days.

      Ryan knew why. There would be tears in her amazing dark eyes. There were always tears now, and oh, how he wanted to be able to stop those tears for her. He wanted to grab her up, tumble her onto this wide, now lonely bed and bury his body deep within hers.

      Strange how the hunger for life didn’t ebb as death drew near.

      In his mind, he was still the strong young man who’d seen a teenage Lily Redgrove and lost his heart. СКАЧАТЬ