LITMIR.BIZ

Скачать книгу

His parents had sent him away, hoping military school would break him. It had. Broken him down then built him up. The navy had taken over and done the rest, and he’d emerged a skilled, reliable attorney and naval officer. “I’m here, aren’t I? This was what you wanted—for me to come home, meet Della, and sew things up for the family. But I’m not staying.”

      Picou stared at him for a full minute before shaking her head. “I don’t expect you to fix anything, Darby. I only wanted you to meet your sister and help her if you can. Just be part of this family, and don’t be afraid of finding a piece of the boy you left behind. You don’t have to live here, but you shouldn’t close your mind off and dust your hands of who you are.”

      Darby shrugged. “I’ll try.”

      He didn’t want to admit part of that boy he’d left behind had showed up that afternoon at first sight of Renny. Sheer lust had lurched through his body, stirring him, waking him, making him want to do irrational things.

      Which was a bad idea.

      Renny might be his legal wife, but that title meant little. In fact, before he’d come to Beau Soleil, he’d stopped in Lafayette to talk with Sid Platt, his father’s former college roommate and long-time legal advisor to the Dufrene family, and had him discreetly initiate divorce proceedings. Since neither he nor Renny would contest and neither had cohabited, the case should move through the cogwheels without difficulty. Six months easily, but if Sid could work some magic, maybe even sooner.

      “There is no try, only do.”

      Darby rolled his eyes. “Yoda?”

      Picou gave a small smile and turned back to whatever brew she was concocting as he slipped out the swinging door and headed up to his former room for a quick shower. Maybe he could stop by Renny’s place and break the news they were married. Didn’t know how he’d do it, but the longer he waited, the more the secret burned inside him.

      She needed to know.

      Of course, he had no clue where she lived or if she had plans for the evening, but once he cleared the air, he’d feel better. Maybe.

      Then he could focus on meeting Della and getting his ass to Seattle to start a new life.

      Seattle. He’d been kicking around the possibilities of where to settle as his time in the service wound down and the Pacific Coast city was high on his list. Then when he met Shelby at an officer mixer and struck up a conversation with her, things fell into place. She was from Seattle, leaving to return to her home in mere weeks, and her father was looking for a new associate for his firm situated in the heart of the city. At that moment, standing there holding a gin and tonic, he’d felt destiny tap him on the shoulder and ask him to dance the pretty teacher all the way to a new life.

      So he’d taken Shelby’s hand and vowed to listen to reason. To fate. To what the stars had lined up for him. It was as if life had laid all the pieces out in front of him and said, Here you go, Darby.

      Seattle and Shelby sounded good. There he wasn’t known and could be whoever he wanted to be without any preconceived notions. Without a family name. Without whispers of his past or a meddling mother trying to dredge up history so she could spackle it with plaster and make it all better.

      Onward and upward.

      Or maybe backward and downward.

      He wasn’t sure.

      But before he could move anywhere, he had to divorce Renny.

      * * *

      RENNY GLARED AT THE MAN standing on her front porch holding two take-out boxes and a bottle of wine.

      What in the hell did he think he was doing?

      She gripped the French door and tried not to let her bad leg buckle. “What do you think you’re—”

      “I’ve got to talk to you,” he said, shouldering past her into her house. “Better to do this in private.”

      She spun around. “Get out.”

      “You don’t want the neighbors to hear this. I brought food.” He walked through her living area to the adjoining dining area and set the boxes on her newly restored antique drop-leaf table, looking as if he had every right to stalk into her world and tilt it on its side. Typical Darby. It was how he’d always been. Presumptuous and entitled. A true Dufrene.

      “I didn’t invite you in, and I really don’t want to hear what you have to say to me. Nor do I want any food. So get the hell out before I call the police.” She waved toward the open door. Her body trembled with rage and something unidentifiable. She didn’t have time to worry about what that was. She needed him to take his larger-than-life body and remove it from the intimacy of her living room.

      “Give me a few minutes, okay? You need to hear me out. Trust me.”

      “Trust you? I don’t even know you anymore. You’re a memory. That’s it.”

      He turned around and waved the wine bottle. “Do you have an opener? Trust or not, you’ll need a drink for this conversation.”

      “I don’t want a drink. I want you to leave. Don’t be an asshole, Darby. If you need closure, fine. I forgive you for getting drunk, hitting a tree, nearly killing me and then forgetting about me while you went off to the East Coast. There. Done. Now get out.” Her knee did that buckle thing and the scar on her thigh ached. She wanted to sit down, but didn’t dare show weakness in front of this man.

      “I didn’t forget you,” he said, his brow crinkling in confusion. “I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

      Realizing he wasn’t going to leave without her actually calling the sheriff, she slammed the door. “Fine. You want to talk. Bring it on. I’ll get the damn bottle opener.”

      Renny moved toward the kitchen, more aware of her limp than normal. She didn’t want him to watch her. Didn’t want his pity or his guilt, but even so, she felt it with every step. “Stop looking at me.”

      She swallowed unshed emotion that had appeared out of nowhere and entered the kitchen, yanking open a drawer and ignoring the fact her cat, Chauncey, had leaped onto the counter and drank milk from the cereal bowl she’d left in the sink that morning.

      She turned and jabbed the opener toward the man who’d followed her into the kitchen. “Here.”

      “Why wouldn’t I look at you? You’re still so beautiful it takes my breath away.”

      His words slammed her and she flinched. “Oh, God, Darby. Are you serious? That’s what you’re going to say. I’m beautiful?”

      He shrugged in a matter-of-fact manner that was so achingly familiar it made her heart hurt.

      “Look, I know what I am, so don’t give me your pity. At least show me that courtesy.” She waggled the opener before thrusting it at him once again.

      His blue eyes darkened and his mouth softened. She wished she hadn’t noticed, but she had. The man was abnormally good-looking with that golden hair and tan skin. Probably had a six-pack, too. He was too good to be true...like most things were. She wasn’t biting whatever worm he wriggled at her. She knew what trusting Darby had gotten her. “Lord, Renny, I don’t pity you.”

      She rolled her eyes. “Okay, sure. No one pities me. I don’t have a complex. I swear. Something about you here in my kitchen, in my space, freaks me out. Let’s go back into the living room.”

      He reached out and brushed a piece of hair from her cheek and she flinched again. Not because she didn’t want his touch, but because the heat in that simple gesture seared her. It was as if a match had been struck and the air thickened with something dangerous. “I don’t want to freak you out. I’m sorry about that, but don’t ever think I would pity something as rare as you.”

      His words plucked a chord in her and she didn’t like where her heart and head were sliding. She needed to get it together. Fast. “Lay that

Скачать книгу