Her Defiant Heart
Page 44
Simultaneously they dove for their robes, which were lying at the foot of the bed. They had just finished tying the sashes when the pounding on the door began.
"At least they're knocking," she said.
"It doesn't matter," he said as he straightened the blankets. "I'm firing all of them."
Wilton Reilly breached the entrance first. "I told her that you would not want to be disturbed, sir," he said, shooting a sideways glance at Mrs. Brandywine. "I'm afraid I couldn't stop her."
"And there'd be hell to pay if you had," she retorted, crossing the threshold defiantly. Behind her stood four other members of the staff. Mary Margaret's cap was askew because she was nodding her head energetically in support of the housekeeper.
"Isn't anyone going to tell me what this is about?"
"He's to blame, Mr. Marshall," said the butler. "He walked in here not five minutes ago, right past me he went, looking for you. Turned the place on its ear, he has. This sort of thing never went on in the Van Dyke home, I can speak to that."
Jenny nodded. "That's true, Mr. Reilly. But neither did we have so much entertainment. You mustn't be priggish." She craned her neck, trying to get a look at the mysterious "he" that had so upset Reilly. "By all means, show the fellow in."
The employees looked at one another, shrugging, nodding, and finally, parting. A young man stepped forward to fill the void.
"It's my fault, I'm afraid."
Under the covers, Jenny's hand found her husband's. She did not need an introduction to the man who was steadily approaching the foot of their bed. He spoke with Christian's voice. He tilted his head at the same precise angle. His eyes, pewter gray rather than aquamarine, were as cool as a spring rain. He plunged his hand through dark hair threaded with copper and bronze.
"It was the story in the paper," he was saying. "The one that described how you caught the Benningtons with the pinhole camera. The Savannah Press picked it up... I read it. There was something about it... something familiar. It was the first time in two years that I remembered any part of my past. In two days, I remembered every other part. I came as soon as I could—" He shrugged helplessly, not really knowing what else to say, suddenly aware of what he had intruded upon. Embarrassed, he grinned sheepishly. "This is probably the most dangerous situation I ever put myself in, and that's including the time I spent in Andersonville."
Jenny's gaze strayed to her husband. Christian's face was beautiful in its stillness. His strong throat looked tight with the effort it took not to cry. Still, tears glistened at the rim of his eyes. Her heart swelled near to bursting with gladness for him. She squeezed his hand and waited.
Christian swallowed hard, unable to take his eyes off their visitor. It was because of Jenny that he was here, Christian thought. Without her there would have been no pinhole camera, no story, no sudden revelations after two years of nothing. Jenny. His sweet Jenny Holland had already brought him so much joy. And now this. Christian returned the gentle pressure of Jenny's hand.
"Welcome home, Logan," he said.
The End
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HIS HEART'S REVENGE
The Marshal Brothers Series
Book Two
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His Heart's Revenge
The Marshall Brothers Series
Book Two
by
Jo Goodman
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HIS HEART'S REVENGE
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"I could help you find that," Logan said matter-of-factly. He was leaning against the door to Katy's bathing room, his arms crossed casually in front of him and a smile on his lips that did not quite reach his eyes. He was still in his evening clothes and rather than appearing overdressed, he managed to make Katy feel underdressed in her own bathtub. "The soap," he said, pointing to where her hand had stilled beneath the water. "Do you require some assistance?"
"I certainly do," she snapped, angry enough to forget who her enemy was. She opened her mouth to scream.
Logan was kneeling beside the tub, his hand over her mouth, smothering her cry to a lamb's bleat.
Above his hand her eyes were wide and frightened. Logan saw it and wasn't moved to loosen his grip. When she began to struggle, he pressed tightly on the back of her neck. Her hands came up to claw at him but he averted his face, protecting it from her tapered nails. She pried unavailingly at his arms. Water splashed everywhere until Logan was kneeling in a puddle and his coat was soaked. "Have a care for your modesty," he warned her, his voice dry and calm. "You're losing all your bubbles."
His laconic, caustic observation infuriated Katy. She bit him.
Logan swore, yanked his injured hand away, and increased the pressure of his other hand on her neck. Katy was forced forward until her face hovered just above the surface of the water. She gasped for air, certain that Logan was going to push her under. She was surprised when she heard him speaking as calmly as he had a moment before.
"You have choices, Katy. You can settle down or you can scream all you want—under the water. You have five seconds."
"Bastard," she gritted.
"Two."
"Son of a—"
"Three."
"I should—"
"Four."
"What happened to one?"
"Five."
Katy sputtered as her face skimmed the water. "All right! Let me up! I won't scream again."
The words were garbled but Logan had no trouble making them out. He eased up. "I'll hold you to that promise. Break it and I'll put you under."
"Six feet?"
"What?"
She jerked her head away from him and this time Logan let her go. Glaring at him as he sat back on his haunches, Katy repeated herself. "Six feet under. As in dead and buried."
"The idea has merit."
Katy jerked in reaction to his softly spoken answer.
She looked at him sharply, trying to assess for herself how serious he was. He was giving nothing away. "You mean... you would actually..."
"I haven't decided."
So he had been considering it. Or was he still toying with her? Katy drew her knees up to her chest, conscious that all around her bubbles were evaporating. Thinking he was going to touch her, she pushed herself against one corner of the tub when Logan's fingers dipped into the water.
With a faint, cynical smile, he said, "Your bath's getting cold. You should get out of there."
"Go to hell."
Logan stood, chuckling under his breath. He stripped off his wet swallow-tailed coat, tossed it at a hook on the wall near the sink, and sat on the edge of the tub. He looked supremely confident, very relaxed. It was a pose guaranteed to raise Katy's ire and Logan was well aware of it. "Swear at me one more time," he said, "and I'll find that soap and you know where I'll use it."
His Heart's Revenge
The Marshall Brothers Series
Book Two
by
Jo Goodman
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His Heart's Revenge
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Meet Jo Goodman
Jo Goodman is a licensed professional counselor working with children and families in West Virginia's Northern Panhandle. Always a fan of the happily ever after, Jo turned to writing romances early in her career as a child care worker when she realized the only life script she could control was the one she wrote herself. She is inspired by the resiliency and courage of the children she meets and feels privileged to be trusted with their stories, the one that they a
lone have the right to tell.
Once upon a time, Jo believed she was going to be a marine biologist. She feels lucky that seasickness made her change course. She lives with her family in Colliers, West Virginia. Please visit her website at www.jogoodman.com.
Table of Contents
Cover
A Note from the Author
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Excerpt from HIS HEART'S REVENGE - The Marshall Brothers Series, Book 2
Meet the Author