Spring Bride. Sandra MartonЧитать онлайн книгу.
airily. “How do you want your eggs? Fried or scrambled?”
“Your choice, babe. I’m starved. If I’ve eaten in the past twenty-four hours, I sure as hell don’t remember it.”
She waited until he’d finished everything, including two cups of coffee, and then she sat down across from him.
“Great breakfast, Squirt.”
Kyra smiled. “Not bad for an amateur, huh?”
Cade smiled back. “Matter of fact, I’ll have one last cup of coffee before I head to the office.”
“The office?”
“Yeah. I’ve got to look for some papers.”
Well, Kyra thought, here was an opening. It had crossed her mind that there might be something for her to do there, at the Landon Enterprises office, until the business was sold. She could learn to do things. Operate a computer. File letters. Answer the phone.
“What kind of papers?” she said.
Cade shrugged. “Nothing you’d understand.”
“Try me,” Kyra said, still smiling.
“Look, Sis, I know you mean well, but—”
“Why do I have to practically beat you guys on the head to make you listen to anything I have to say?”
She spoke lightly, but Cade shot from his chair. “What in hell’s going on here?” he said furiously. “I’ve about had it with this crap.”
“Well, so have I,” Kyra said, just as furiously. She sprang to her feet. “Just because I’m your little sister-”
“You mean, just because you’re female! Well, let me tell you something, Kyra. I’m male, yeah, but that doesn’t make me the enemy! If a man didn’t love a woman he wouldn’t—” Cade clamped his lips together. “I’m going downtown. If Zach or Grant calls, tell them they can reach me at the office.”
Kyra nodded coolly. “Yes, sir.”
Cade started to answer, thought better of it, and stormed out the door.
Cade spent the rest of the week either at the office or on the telephone. Neither he nor Kyra referred to the harsh words that had passed between them.
Kyra knew something was bothering Cade. He wasn’t just short-tempered, he was restless. She could hear him pacing his room at night—but then, she paced hers, too
What was she going to do with her life?
Late one moonlit night, after she’d pounded her pillow flat, she gave up trying to sleep and slipped down to the kitchen in her long flannel nightgown. She curled up in the bay window that looked over the new snow that had fallen on the shores of Crystal Lake.
Moments later, she heard Cade coming down the stairs. He seemed surprised to find her in the kitchen, sitting in the moonlight and staring out into the night.
“What are you doing up?” he said.
Kyra didn’t answer. What could she say? I’m depressed? I’m down? I’m trying to decide if I want to study manicuring or brain surgery?
Cade frowned. “It’s late. And it’s cold. You should be…you should be…”
Kyra looked at him, her brows raised, and he frowned.
“Hell,” he muttered. “Do I do that a lot?”
“Do what?”
“You know. Do I tell you what to do? Am I overprotective?”
Kyra sighed. “You’re not like Father, if that’s what you’re asking.”
He drew back as if she’d struck him. “Of course I’m not! I’m nothing like him. I’d never be like him!”
“No. You wouldn’t. You’re not dominating, or unkind. And you’re certainly not selfish.” She smiled. “But sometimes you do like to control people you love.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Maybe, down deep, you think you have to control them to keep them from abandoning you.” She gave him a thoughtful look. “I wonder if it has something to do with what happened the night of your twenty-first birthday.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Come on, Cade, don’t play dumb. It was when you learned Father had bought off that girl you were so crazy about. You were so hurt—”
“You’re nuts! I wasn’t hurt, I was angry.”
“Losing her that way must have been awful. But someday you’ll meet a woman…”
Suddenly, she knew. He’d met someone already; it was the reason he paced the floor, the reason he looked haunted—the reason he was questioning himself.
“Oh, Cade,” Kyra whispered, “you’ve already met her, haven’t you? And you don’t know what to do about it.”
Her brother’s eyes snapped with anger. “Thank you for that brilliant, and useless, analysis!”
He pivoted on his heel and marched from the room. Kyra watched him go, and then she sighed and turned her face to the window.
Had she deepened his wound by telling him the truth? She didn’t think so. Cade was hurting, but at least he was feeling like something more than a self-sacrificing martyr, which was what she’d been feeling like lately.
Hell. It was what she’d been feeling like ever since she was five years old and she’d become everybody’s idea of an angel, and she was sick of it!
Kyra got to her feet. She had to do something soon or she’d go crazy! She had to experience life, to feel…
To feel.
Does it disgust you, to want a man like me?
She came to a dead stop, the deep, husky voice echoing inside her head.
What would have happened if she’d said no, no, wanting him didn’t disgust her at all? If she’d said that wanting him had terrified her even as it had thrilled her, that it had made her feel alive in a way she never had before?
Her breath caught in her throat. My God, she really was losing her grip!
A change of pace, that’s what she needed. But how did you manage that when you were trapped in a house you hated, in a life you hated, with nothing more important to do than go on being the perfect little princess you’d always been?
You could take a trip, Kyra thought suddenly. You could go somewhere you’d never been before. You could see new things, do new things, meet new people…
But where? Where did she want to go?
She hurried into the library, threw on the light, and snatched a leather-bound atlas from the shelf. Then she opened it to a map of the world, shut her eyes, and stabbed it with her forefinger.
Her eyes flew open and she looked down. Her finger was resting in the middle of the Caribbean.
How could you go for a vacation on an ocean?
You could take a cruise, she thought, and smiled. A cruise in the sunny Caribbean.
Kyra’s smile became a grin. “Why not?” she said jauntily, and then she slammed the atlas shut, turned off the light, and trotted up the stairs.
EMPRESS of the Caribbean was hardly the ship of anyone’s dreams. And autumn, with its potential for storms and rough seas, was not the best time to cruise