Cherokee Marriage Dare. Sheri WhiteFeather

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СКАЧАТЬ much of a wind block. Maggie’s hair blew wildly around her shoulders, each light-brown strand tipped with gold. She wore a camel-colored coat, the collar lined with a faux-print fur. The effect was stunning. And distracting, Luke thought.

      She seemed vulnerable, and that made him want to touch her.

      She replaced her cup with an unsteady hand. “This is so awful. King Thomas founded the Institute because his wife died from cancer. He was trying to do something good for mankind, not destroy it. He loved his queen very much. It broke his heart to watch her suffer.”

      Luke nodded. He had seen firsthand how terribly cancer patients suffered, how the disease ravaged. He had lost his father to colorectal cancer. But Luke wasn’t going to tell Maggie about his past or the ache that came with it. The burden was his, and his alone. And so was the broken promise he’d made to his dad.

      He stared at his coffee, into the void of nothingness. He wanted to drop his head in his hands and mourn the mistakes he’d made.

      But he couldn’t. There was no turning back. He had to live with what he’d done, face himself in the mirror every day and despise the reflection.

      “Are you all right?” Maggie asked.

      Instantly, he locked away the pain. “Of course I am.”

      Their eyes met and held. Hers were a pale wash of blue, flecked with tiny sparks of green. Her incredible, ever-changing eyes.

      “Are you sure?” she pressed. “You seem troubled.”

      “It’s a troubling case,” he responded.

      “Yes, it is,” she agreed, her gaze never wavering from his.

      Once again he longed to touch her. They sat side by side, their shoulders nearly brushing. He resisted the urge to lift his hand, to stroke her cheek, to feel the warmth radiating from her skin.

      Luke reached for his coffee and sipped the bitter brew. This investigation was too critical to get sidetracked by a beautiful woman. Especially since she was the lady he had vowed to protect.

      Rey-Star Investigations was located in a dramatic tower overlooking the city. Maggie took the elevator to the ninth floor and entered Luke’s office through double-glass doors.

      A blue-eyed blonde sat behind a mahogany reception desk. Focusing on a computer screen, she pursed her racy red lips, forming a provocative pout.

      She was stunning—in a bombshell kind of way. A sweater, the same notice-me shade as her lipstick, stretched across her ample bosom.

      Maggie frowned, irked that Luke had a blow-up doll working for him. She cleared her throat and waited for the receptionist to acknowledge her.

      The blonde looked up and flashed a thousand-watt smile. That, too, managed to irritate Maggie. Apparently the other woman, who probably shared Luke’s bed whenever he beckoned, didn’t see her as a threat.

      Clearly Luke wasn’t as lonely as he appeared.

      “May I help you, Ms. Connelly?” the receptionist asked.

      “Yes, thank you.” She wasn’t surprised the other woman had recognized her. Maggie’s celebrity rarely went unnoticed. “Is Mr. Starwind available?”

      “I’ll let him know you’re here.”

      Within minutes Maggie was escorted into Luke’s office. He stood beside a window, gazing out at the city. The room was furnished with an ebony desk, leather chairs and a lacquered bar. A slim marble table held a bronze eagle, its enormous wings poised in flight. Stone and metal, she thought, with a blend of masculine elegance.

      Luke turned and met Maggie’s gaze. Dressed entirely in black, he looked as striking as the decor.

      He shifted his gaze to his receptionist. “Thank you, Carol.”

      The blonde nodded and closed the door behind her.

      Luke and Maggie stared at each other for what seemed like an endless amount of time.

      “She’s quite the bombshell,” Maggie said finally.

      He moved away from the window and sat on the edge of his desk. “Who? Carol?”

      Yes, Carol, she thought, wondering why he bothered to play dumb. “I wasn’t aware busty blondes were your type.”

      He crossed his arms, his mouth set in an unforgiving line. “So you analyzed her, did you?”

      “Women notice other women,” she replied in her own defense. “We’re quite observant in that regard.”

      “Really? Then why don’t you give me your evaluation of her?”

      Maggie removed her coat and flung it over a chair. Luke remained where he was, perched on the edge of his glossy desk.

      “Let’s see.” She walked to the bar and poured herself a cherry cola. Rattling the ice in her glass, she took a sip. “Carol takes long lunches, wears cheap perfume and keeps her boss entertained on cold winter nights. She has an average IQ, and buys more clothes than she can afford.”

      Luke uncrossed his arms and tapped his chin in an analytical gesture. “That’s very interesting, but you’re wrong on every count. First of all, she works her tail off. Second, most perfumes, cheap or otherwise, give her a headache. She also happens to be sharp as a tack, frugal to a fault and happily married to a man who adores her.”

      Maggie wanted to sink into the carpet. “I suppose they have children?”

      He nodded. “Two little boys. Whose pictures are prominently displayed on her desk. But you didn’t notice them. Just like you didn’t notice the absence of a fragrance or the gold band shining on her finger.”

      Mortified, she lowered herself to a chair. “I’m a lousy detective, aren’t I?”

      “The worst.”

      Maggie winced. Blond hair. Big breasts. Luke’s bed. Her evaluation had stemmed from a catty scratch of jealousy. Which was something she had never experienced before.

      “I’m sorry,” she managed to say, thinking she owed Carol an apology as well.

      He shrugged, and they both drifted into what she considered uncompanionable silence. She certainly wasn’t doing a very good job of making Lucas Starwind smile. And that was something she would have to remedy. Maybe not today, but soon.

      “So, am I going to work with you here at the office?” she asked.

      “Don’t you have finals this week?”

      “I can come by afterward.”

      “Then you’re welcome to use Tom’s old office.”

      “Thank you.” She wished this wasn’t a baby-sitting effort on his part. Maggie preferred to earn her keep. But that rarely happened. No one gave her any credit, not even her own family.

      Thoughtful, she studied her companion. Sooner or later the СКАЧАТЬ