His Chosen Wife. Anne McAllisterЧитать онлайн книгу.
knows? Where’s she been. What’s she been doing. Why she’s here now.” Cristina ticked off plenty of possibilities. All the while studying Ally as if she had her under a microscope. “Maybe she’s after his money.”
“Well, she certainly isn’t after his well-behaved relatives,” Mark grinned. “Cristina can be a little, um, protective.”
“She thinks I can’t fight my own battles,” PJ said dryly, coming back to hand his brother-in-law a beer.
“Because I’m older than you,” Cristina said loftily.
PJ rolled his eyes. “Four minutes.”
“And I’m married—”
“So am I—”
“Which, amazingly, seems to be true. At least, you seem to have produced a wife.”
“I didn’t produce her. I married her.”
“But you don’t live with her, either. I, on the other hand, live with my spouse. Always have. And I have a child. So I have a wealth of domestic experience you don’t have,” she said to her brother with a smug grin. “And I’m looking out for your best interests. So go out in the garden and talk to Mark about his trip. Or baseball. Or boats. And let me do my sisterly duty. Go!” she said again when neither man moved.
Mark looked at PJ. “Your fault.”
“I didn’t invite her over,” PJ protested.
“As if you could have kept her away once she found out Ally was here.” Mark laughed and shook his head. “You know what Cristina is like when she’s got the bit between her teeth. Might as well let her get on with it.”
How had they found out she was here? Ally wondered. But she didn’t ask. She just turned to PJ and said stoutly, “Go on. I’m perfectly happy to talk to your sister. I don’t need you.”
PJ’s brows lifted. But Ally met his gaze squarely. And after a long moment he turned to face his sister.
“Do not alienate my wife,” he instructed.
Cristina looked indignant. “As if I would!”
“You would,” he said with conviction, “if you thought it was a good idea. I’m telling you it’s not.”
Brother and sister stared at each other. It was like watching mortal combat—death by eye contact.
Clearly his sister brought out a side of PJ that Ally had never seen before. He didn’t look particularly upset to have his sister here, but he still looked a little wary—as if he didn’t entirely trust her.
Ally wasn’t wary or worried. She found herself almost eager to confront PJ’s sister. Once she understood who the other woman was, the tension inside her eased. This was no floozy she had to warn off. No woman trying to worm her way into PJ’s life.
Warn off? Ally jerked herself up short. What was she thinking? She had no interest in PJ’s love life! She was only a wife on paper. His women were nothing to do with her.
Besides, it looked as if Cristina was determined to vet any woman who crossed his path. Ally smiled at the thought, feeling instantly calmer and far more in control.
Also she was curious.
She hadn’t expected PJ to tell his family anything about their marriage. Yet apparently he had. So, what had he told them? And when? And why?
She also found herself intrigued by Cristina.
She’d never met any of PJ’s family. He had talked about them occasionally. She knew he had grown up in the middle of a boisterous, noisy, demanding Greek-American family.
“I was never alone,” he said. “Ever. God, I even had to share the womb. I never had silence. Cristina never shut up. I always had to share a room with my brothers. I never had space.”
Ally, who had had far too much loneliness, silence and space in her life, frankly thought PJ’s childhood sounded appealing. She’d asked questions, but except for a few comments, whenever he had talked about them it had been mostly about how glad he was they were practically on the other side of the world.
Now, face-to-face with the woman he’d “shared a womb with,” Ally couldn’t pretend indifference.
Neither apparently could Cristina. The men had barely gone out through the door and slid it shut behind them when PJ’s sister sat down at the table opposite Ally and jumped straight in.
If Cristina had ever heard of circumspection or tact, she’d determinedly forgotten everything she’d ever heard. She wanted to know where PJ and Ally had met, when they’d married. And why?
“I wouldn’t ask why,” she said bluntly, “because ordinarily it would be obvious. You’re gorgeous and PJ has always had an eye for a gorgeous woman. But if it were for that reason, he wouldn’t have let you walk out of his life again. So … why?”
She regarded Ally intently, and in the face of Cristina’s clear concern, Ally found herself answering.
She’d never told anyone else. Besides her father and, recently, Jon, she’d never told a soul she was married.
But this was PJ’s sister. Ally didn’t have siblings. She had never experienced the bonds that could exist between them. But it was clearly there—and just as much in PJ’s words to Cristina as in her attempted defense of him. It bespoke a loyalty and love she could only envy.
And in response, she couldn’t deny the kindness he’d done her. Nor could she minimize it or pretend it had been some frivolous or foolish thing they had done.
And so she began to talk.
She spoke haltingly at first about her father’s demands on her—about what she should take in university, about what job she would hold when she finished, about the man he expected her to marry. It sounded medieval and melodramatic to her ears as she told it, and she fully expected Cristina would roll her eyes.
Instead the other woman listened raptly and nodded more and more vigorously.
“Fathers!” she muttered, eyes flashing in indignation. “Mine is just as bad. They always think they know what’s best. And they can be so clueless!”
But her indignation vanished and she beamed gleefully when Ally told her about her grandmother’s legacy and how she could use it to avoid having to fall in with her father’s demands.
“I couldn’t be the person he wanted me to be. I needed to be me. To get away and find out who I was. But I couldn’t get away without the legacy. And I couldn’t have the legacy without being married—”
“So PJ married you!” Cristina clapped her hands together delightedly, her eyes were alight with satisfaction. And all her original skepticism and animosity toward Ally seemed to evaporate.
“That is such a great story.” She cheered Ally’s determination—and her brother’s part in it. “I should have known he wouldn’t do anything stupid.”
She didn’t even blame Ally for “using” him to get what she needed.
“Blame you?” she’d said, affronted, when Ally suggested it. “Of course not! What else could you have done?”
Ally shook her head, surprised at Cristina’s approbation.
“So what did you do? Where did you go?” PJ’s sister asked.
And Ally told her that as well. And in telling her the truth about how she had used PJ to get her legacy, to get her education, to travel and learn and work and become the person she’d become, far from putting Cristina off, actually brought her around to Ally’s side.
“I think it’s absolutely marvelous. What a hero!” And for an instant Ally thought Cristina might jump up and go outside and throw her arms around her brother. Instead she just shook her head