The Baby Claim - Page 46

His face relaxed, seemed less contorted than before. “I imagine that was quite a ride.”

“We were kids. Our math was good.” She set the mug down, laughing softly. “Our sewing? Not so good. The sling gave way.”

“Ouch. Broken bones?” he asked, pulling the stew from the microwave.

“A fracture and a dunking.” She shuddered at the memory.

“Through the ice?”

She nodded. “It was scary. So scary.”

“You’re the one who went through?”

“Worse. My cousin Sage did. But I knew it had to be my fault.” She’d been the mastermind—the one who’d suggested the zip line. Sage had volunteered to go first, trying to prove she was brave. It had been a rite of passage, one that went terribly awry.

“How did you and your brothers haul her out?”

There had been no option except action. Even now, Glenna could feel her brothers’ grip as she’d gone in after Sage. Her arms reaching and thrashing in the cold water for any trace of her cousin.

“We held on to each other and went in as a human chain until she was safe.”

“You could have all died.”

“She would have done the same for us. We were close. You understand. You have siblings.”

“We were more…competitive. But yes, I like to think we would have gone to any extreme to save each other. Actually, I know we would have.” He looked down at his stew.

Glenna ran a light, encouraging hand down his back. “What about you and your sister Breanna?”

“Ah, so now we get to the heart of what you’re pushing for. You want the emotional grist.”

She chose her words carefully. “Your sister is clearly important to you and yet you and your family don’t mention her very often.”

“It was—is—painful to think about her,” he admitted hoarsely, staring down into his bowl of stew. “Most people don’t know, but we didn’t get a clean goodbye. Long after that crash, we were tormented by calls from sick bastards who wanted to milk us for money with everything from offers to speak to her in the afterlife to people who said they’d seen her. None of those leads turned out, of course. My father had each one investigated, no matter how crazy.”

“But I thought she died in the crash…”

“She did. Her body was—” he choked up “—badly burned. But there were a couple of teeth in the ashes. Her teeth. All evidence pointed to her dying that day and no ransom note ever came. We waited, even hoped for a long while, because at least that hell was better than death.”

“I am so very sorry. I had no idea your family went through that. That had to be difficult for all of you, not having the official closure of saying goodbye to your sister and mother.”

“Mom’s body was thrown from the plane before the fire really took hold. She was already…gone. It was hell, but at least we knew.”

Forget distance and boundaries. Glenna closed the space between them, slid her arms around his waist and rested her head against his chest. “Oh, Broderick, I am so sorry.”

He set aside his stew and held her closer. “My father was always nervous about someone kidnapping us because of his fortune. After the crash, I thought he would lose his mind. He assigned a bodyguard to each of us twenty-four-seven. I can assure you, that gets awkward at school.” He chuckled.

She didn’t. Because her heart was breaking for him. She touched his face, stroking his cheek. He captured her arm to stop her, and slowly, deliberately, kissed the inside of her wrist.

“Glenna, the last thing I want is your pity. The very last thing.”

His mouth sealed over hers with unmistakable possession.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

After the passionate night they’d shared, Broderick couldn’t imagine they would have the energy to make love again. But already he felt desire building inside him with each stroke of his tongue against hers. His erection throbbed between them. No question, he was ready, eager, wanted to be inside her again.

Morning sunlight streamed through the skylights over them in the kitchen, helping guide him, giving him an even better view of temptation.

Glenna’s arms glided up, her hands behind his neck, fingers feathering lightly. He knew the feel of her touch against his skin, the tips of her fingers teasing along his hairline. Yes, he remembered. And she was everything from all those years ago—and more.

His hands traced her sides, then cradled the sweet curve of her bottom. He lifted her, bringing her flush against him until her feet dangled off the floor. Her personality was so strong and magnificent he sometimes forgot she was so much shorter than him, slighter in frame. She was an oxymoron of delicate power.

Tags: Catherine Mann Billionaire Romance
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