Undercover Sir. Carolyn FaulknerЧитать онлайн книгу.

      Even though it was harder to do without her brother's money, she managed to save enough money to buy herself a second-hand car, which was the next step in what she saw as her liberation—her path out from under her brother's thumb.

      It wasn't much, but she'd had the family mechanic check it out, and he said it was sound—if old. She didn't care if it was old, as long as it would get her to work and back.

      "You didn't tell me you were looking for a car," Daniel had said one night at the dinner table as Taffy had set a beautifully done roast down in front of him to carve, and Ia brought up the rear with the scalloped potatoes and peas. He stood to carve off two slices, one for his wife and one for his sister. "Is there a problem with the Chevy?"

      "No, I'd just like to own my own car," she replied, going back for the rolls, butter, and corn.

      "That's very admirable of you." He smiled. "But you didn't have to bring it to Skip to have him check it out. I would have been glad to do it for you."

      "You're very busy, and that's what Skip does for a living."

      Daniel tried not to frown at her flat tone. Instead, he smiled and said, "I always have time for you, buttercup."

      They passed around the bowls of food with the efficiency of long acquaintance, then Daniel sat down, putting a hand out to his wife and the other to his sister, palm up. Each of them took it unquestioningly, bowing their heads as he did his.

      "For what we are about to receive, may the Lord make us truly grateful."

      "Amen."

      "This looks delicious, Taff. Another winner!" He smiled broadly at his wife, who preened under his praise. As he dug into the meal, he mentioned, "Don't buy anything without consulting me first, though, Ia. I want to make sure you don't get taken."

      "Thank you, but I'm neither an idiot nor a helpless female, and I'll do my homework. And since it's my money, I'll buy what I want."

      Their grandmother's milk glass butter dish that her brother had been holding landed loudly on the table at that pronouncement. Not that he'd dropped it, really, but rather he'd put it down with a certain amount of force. Daniel stared hard at his sister, but he didn't say anything further about it. If she didn't want his help, she didn't have to accept it, he guessed. It was uncomfortable for him that she was so adversarial, but he hadn't made any headway into changing how she was feeling. She wasn't doing anything wrong, and she wasn't being disrespectful—very carefully, so he thought, so he didn't feel he could spank her, and that might just make it worse, anyway.

      She clearly resented the fact that he was continuing to discipline her, but as long as she was under his roof, that wasn't going to change.

      A few weeks later, she bought a car that Skip had said checked out. He'd also told her that the price was a good deal, so she did it all without her big brother's help. One goal down, more to go.

      The next step toward independence was to find a place to live. Since she already had a job, she wanted it to be reasonably close to the bank, and she was also keen to find someone to share the rent with. But her friends from school had either moved away or were married, or planning to be married soon, so there really wasn't anyone she knew who wanted to go in on it with her. She could have advertised for a roommate or answered one of the few that were in the paper, but Ia was shy enough that she wasn't at all sure about living with someone she didn't know. There was a girl at work whom she had become friends with who might fit the bill, but she, too, was living at home, and having to pay rent, buy groceries, clean, and cook wasn't looking like much fun to her when she could keep all of her paycheck instead.

      Still, Ia spent her lunch hours—when not eating slash gossiping with her coworkers—pouring over the apartment for rent ads and dreaming. While she was waiting for a good opportunity, she was saving as much money as she could, eschewing new clothes and trips to the movies in favor of her dream.

      Someone she had spoken to about looking at a place had called home one day, though, and Daniel had answered it. He'd handed her the phone but hadn't moved once he did, standing there in the open area between the kitchen, dining room, and living room with his arms crossed over his chest, looking unhappy. Since the cord wasn't very long, Ia couldn't get very far away from him while she spoke, but then she straightened her back, knowing he was right there.

      Let him watch and listen. She had every right to move out, if that was what she wanted to do.

      "Mr. Cooper? Yes, this is Anna Maria Baldwin. Yes, I'm very interested. Tomorrow at nine sounds fine. Thank you very much. I'll see you then."

      She hung up the phone and tried to walk away, but his deep voice stopped her automatically in her tracks, even though she didn't want it to. "I didn't know you were planning on moving out."

      Forcing herself to turn around, she bravely met his eyes. "I'm just in the planning stages at the moment, but yes, I am."

      He took a breath and opened his mouth, as if he was going to say something, but thought better of it. Instead, he shoved his fists into his pockets. "I want to look at the place before you rent it."

      As much as she didn't want it to, that made sense to her. Unlike their friendly mechanic, she didn't know anyone else who might be able to evaluate the soundness of the apartment for her, and Daniel was very handy around the house. He would be able to tell her what might be wrong with the place, and he knew even more people than she did in the small town—business people—so he might well know the reputation of the person who was renting it, too, as well as knowing whether or not it was a reasonably safe part of town.

      She inclined her head. "All right. Can I go now?"

      "May I—" he corrected.

      But she interrupted, "May I go now?"

      "Yes, you may."

      Daniel had frowned after her for a good long time after she'd disappeared into her room before he grabbed the evening paper and sank down into his easy chair to watch the latest episode of The Milton Berle Show.

      That place hadn't worked out, and now, many long months later, she was still stuck here with her brother and his wife. She didn't mind Taffy so much, and even suspected that he spanked her, too, but that didn't bear thinking of, and it was of absolutely no comfort to her, anyway.

      Daniel had tried to talk to her—not about why she wanted to move out, which he thought might lead to an argument—but instead trying to emphasize the fact that she'd be wasting money.

      "Think of how much of your hard-earned dough you're saving by living here! Why would you want to waste your money like that when you don't have to? I don't understand it. You would have so much more to spend." He was reaching for something she might spend her money on. "Like filling up your hope chest or buying clothes and makeup or whatever."

      She'd laughed at that, but not in a humorous way. "If I had a hope chest, it would be old and dusty by now."

      He looked uncomfortable at being reminded that his little sister was an old maid. "Well, you never know."

      "Yes, I do, Daniel. I'm twenty-five, and I've never even been on a date."

      "Yes, you have! I fixed you up with…" He frowned. "…well, I forget his name."

      "Ernie Parker, whom we both know went out with me to try to score points with you toward a promotion. He barely looked at me the entire night. And his mother, with whom he lives, came with us to the movies and made us dinner at their house later. That does not count as a date."

      "Did he pay for the movie?" he asked, as if he'd found a loophole in her logic.

      "She paid for the movie, Daniel. You have to face facts—I have. Men don't have any interest in me. They never have, even when I was younger. I wear glasses, I'm bookish, and I won't act stupid just to make them like me, and I'm nothing special to look at whatsoever. Marriage and