The Secrets of Her Past. Emilie Rose

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СКАЧАТЬ His sarcasm stung like a whip. “You’re ten pounds underweight and your clothes hang on you like a sack.”

      Her hackles rose. It was okay for her friends to nag her, but Adam had no right. “I lost weight when I took up running, and I have more important things to spend my money on than new clothes. I might be built more like a plank than an hourglass, but I’m in good shape—I have to be. It takes strength to manhandle heavy animals.”

      Adam looked unconvinced or, more likely, uninterested. Well, bully for him. His opinion didn’t matter anyway.

      * * *

      ADAM STRODE TOWARD his father’s office, eager to ditch Madison and get on with his day. He mentally scrolled through his task list, trying to find time to fit everything into his schedule.

      Madison stopped on the front porch so abruptly in front of him that he almost barreled into her. He locked his muscles and shot out a hand to prevent a collision. His palms landed at her waist and his nose grazed the top of her ponytail. The scent of her hair filled his nostrils. The firmness of her hips registered a split second before the warmth of her body scorched his palms. He had the oddest urge to caress her unexpected curves.

      What in the hell? He removed his hands and backed away. “Is there a problem?”

      Her small breasts rose and fell, then her gaze ricocheted from the door to his face. Emotions chased through her eyes so rapidly he couldn’t label any of them—but none were good. “Damn it, Madison, you’re not backing out.”

      She swallowed, then licked her lips. His gaze locked on her sweeping pink tongue, and his brain took a seriously wrong turn. Her damp mouth was not alluring. Definitely not. He had no inclination to find out how she tasted. None. Despite his brother’s boasts about his hot sex life, Madison was Andrew’s wife. End of story.

      Even thinking about touching her was perverted. If his pulse pounded double-time it was only because he didn’t have time for this second-thoughts crap.

      “Madison,” he warned when she remained motionless and silent.

      “I’m fine.”

      Liar. He knew it as well as he knew his own name. What was it about this office that repelled her? He didn’t have the time nor the inclination to find out. “The staff’s expecting you. They’ll show you the ropes.”

      “I— Do I know any of them?”

      What difference did it make? “How am I supposed to know? They’ll do their job. Make sure you do yours.”

      He returned to his car.

      He was not running, damn it. He had a jammed schedule and needed to get started. Madison was a grown woman, a trained veterinarian. She didn’t need him to hold her hand and make introductions.

      He checked his rearview mirror. She stood stiffly on the porch, her fists clenching and relaxing by her sides. Guilt and frustration needled him. He was on the verge of throwing the vehicle into Reverse and dragging her inside when she reached for the handle and opened the door. It closed behind her. He merged into traffic. He’d done his part and delivered her to the office. The next few hours were up to her.

      Madison had ghosts to face. But she deserved to suffer through the experience alone. He’d been living with those damned ghosts for six years and no one had made it easy for him.

      * * *

      “LUNCHTIME,” DR. DRAKE’S assistant, Lisa, said. “Princess Pug was our last patient this morning.”

      Madison heaved a sigh of relief and nodded. Adam hadn’t been kidding when he predicted she and the staff would be busy. She hadn’t had a minute to dwell on the past since she’d stepped through the door this morning and found a patient waiting—a fact she greatly appreciated. She wasn’t looking forward to the lull ahead when the memories would crowd into the now empty halls and treatment rooms.

      She trudged toward the private offices. She’d been able to avoid the back of the building until now, but she hadn’t packed a lunch and didn’t want to force her company on the staff. She definitely wouldn’t bum a ride to lunch as Adam had suggested.

      Dread quickened her heartbeat as she approached the office she’d shared with Andrew. A lump the size of a Saint Bernard lodged in her throat. She wanted to duck her head and plow past, but she forced herself to stop outside the door.

      C’mon. You can do it.

      It took colossal effort to turn ninety degrees and face her past. She deliberately kept her gaze high, focusing on the wall behind Andrew’s desk. She started at the long horizontal transom-style windows just below the roofline that allowed sunlight into the room. Then she let her gaze slide down. His mahogany-framed diploma occupied the same spot. It was flanked by the bookshelves he’d ordered custom-built in the same dark glossy finish as the frame. The textbooks and knickknacks he’d collected still cluttered the shelves.

      Her heart thumped harder and her nails bit into her palms. Taking a bracing breath, she allowed her gaze to click incrementally down like the second hand on a clock to the high back of his chair and then to the surface of his desk. The leather blotter and desk set she’d given him as a graduation present remained in the center. The frame that had held their wedding photograph still occupied the front right corner. She inched forward on leaded feet, and slowly turned the rectangle around.

      Seeing the two of them with their hands linked, love in their eyes and radiating from their smiles, crushed the breath from her like a horse pinning her against a stall wall with his haunch. They’d been so young, so idealistic and so certain of their future together. At least she had been.

      Had Andrew been plotting even then to derail her plans? Had he ever intended for her to join his father’s practice? Or had he always planned for her to be a stay-at-home mom like Helen?

      She scanned the rest of the desk and a familiar emptiness yawned in her belly. She cradled the ache with both hands. Andrew had gloated that their son had been conceived during a quickie on this surface while the staff was at lunch. He’d thrown that in her face that horrible night.

      And that was when she’d taken her eyes off the road.

      A tremor racked her. She pried her gaze away and examined the rest of the space. Another shrine to Andrew. Nothing had changed since he’d left, and yet ironically, nothing in her life was the same.

      With his drunken boast he’d crushed her faith not only in him but in herself. How could she have been so blind, so gullible, so stupid?

      An undeniable urge to bolt swept through her. She raced down the hall into Dan—Dr. Drake’s office and planted her palms on the edge of his desk. It had been six years. She shouldn’t still react this viscerally.

      Out of habit, she gulped deep breaths and rammed the darkness into its hidey-hole by counting her blessings. Her health. Her home. Her practice. Her pets. Her friends. The peaceful town she’d grown to love.

      Tilting her head back, she closed her eyes and tried to focus on something else—anything besides the grief gnawing away her hard-won peace. There had to be something positive in this horrible experience.

      Her morning had been crammed with everything from avians to reptiles, testing her memory and her training to the limit. Not knowing what she’d find upon entering a treatment СКАЧАТЬ