Brenda Joyce - [Francesca Cahill 06] Read Free Page B

wrist and held up her left hand. They both stared at her fourth finger now, Francesca as if hypnotized. No ring adorned it, neither on top of the glove nor beneath it.
    Francesca wanted to tug her gloved hand free, but her muscles had lost their ability to function. She knew that she had to explain the fact that she did not wear his ring andthe reason she had really left town. Now was the perfect and appropriate time. But the blood was rushing in her veins, pounding in her ears, causing her to become exceedingly dim of wit.
What should she do?
    “So this is your decision,” he said tersely.
    Francesca gasped in real surprise, their gazes clashing, hers startled, his hot. She suddenly realized what he was assuming—that she was ending their engagement—but he was wrong. The notion had been debated in these past four weeks, of course, but she hated that very idea. She simply did not know what to do—but before she could protest, he tilted up her chin. “And when were you going to tell me? Or did you think to run away and hide like a frightened child?” He demanded. “You cannot hide from me. Did you enjoy your stay at the Monument Inn, darling?”
    She gasped, stunned. “How did you know where I was?”
    His jaw flexed hard. “I made it my business to know. Money buys anything, Francesca.”
    “No,” she managed, trembling. “It doesn’t buy loyalty—it doesn’t buy love.” Only one person had known where she was going—her friend Sarah Channing. He had clearly forced the information from her.
    He made a derisive sound. “Like hell it doesn’t.”
    She found it hard to breathe; he seemed trembling and breathless as well. “Hart, this isn’t what you are thinking.”
    “No?” He was incredulous. “Do tell me what I am thinking, Francesca, please do! And it’s Calder, damn it.”
    His anger always unnerved her. And when she was nervous, she always called him Hart. She took a deep breath for composure and even courage. “First of all, what I did was perhaps thoughtless, but I didn’t mean to hurt you,” she began worriedly, trying to think of what to say and how precisely to say it.
    “Hurt me?” His dark brows slashed upwards again. He laughed. “You hardly hurt me, Francesca. Do you really think my feelings so fragile?”
    Of course she hadn’t hurt him. The man was an islandunto himself—he needed no one. She stiffened. “I am sorry I
inconvenienced
you, then.”
    His eyes darkened. “You did not inconvenience me, either,” he said grimly. “You are your own woman, an exceedingly independent one, and if you wish to travel, it is your right.” Suddenly he gripped her left wrist and held her gloved hand between them.
“When were you going to tell me?”
    He did not give her a chance to speak. “I thought we had more than a passing attraction to one another, Francesca, no, I know we have more than that. We are friends, or have you forgotten? Has fear—has Rick—so addled your brain that you have forgotten why we are so fond of one another in the first place? That we began as friends and that, no matter what does happen, we shall end as friends?”
    And she felt despair. “We are friends,” she whispered, meaning it. “I could not bear to ever lose your friendship, Calder. Do not talk of endings!”
    He started, his expression changing, almost appearing taken aback.
    She swallowed and tried to find the right words. “I went away to think. It’s been so hard. Things are moving so quickly. I—” She faltered.
    “You what?” he asked, not letting her off the hook.
    “Marriage is forever. I do not want to make a terrible mistake.”
    “And marrying me would be a terrible mistake?” he asked softly.
    “I did not say that!” she cried. “Do not dare put words in my mouth!”
    “Then what are you saying, my dear? And do not become an incoherent lackwit now!” His gaze hardened.
    But she was. Her mind spun. She simply could not give up this man, and she knew instinctively that if