Corbin's Fancy Read Free Page B

them under one arm.
    Jeff stared at her in furious amazement. “What the devil do you think you’re doing?”
    The violet eyes met his squarely. “I’m helping you, of course. That’s what your brother hired me to do.”
    “Damn his hide. I don’t want any help!”
    “That’s your major problem, I would imagine. That and the fact that you’re acting more like a spoiled little boy than a grown man.” Incredibly, she strode to the doorway and flung the laundry she’d gathered into the hallway. After that, she advanced to the bed, pulling off the blankets and sheets, denuding the pillows of their cases. “It’s time you stopped sulking and started acting your age, Jeff Corbin.”
    Jeff was appalled for a moment, but then the singular humor of the situation came home to him and he began to laugh. What a ridiculous, delicious sight this Fancy was, her wild hair tumbling from its pins and silver starscoming loose from her dress. As she bent to gather up the sheets in both arms, Jeff felt a familiar stirring inside him.
    She paused, looked at him uncertainly for the first time. “What’s so funny?”
    “That dress. Your name. Everything.”
    Fancy’s lush little body stiffened and that perfect chin jutted out in fierce pride. “I’m glad you’re amused,” she said. “Perhaps that’s a step forward.”
    Again, Jeff ran a hand through one side of his hair and, with one fleeting glance at the mirror, saw that his fingers had left ridges above his right ear. “Just what did my brother tell you? That I’m some kind of recluse? That I need to be saved from myself?”
    “Something on that order, yes.”
    Jeff was furious. “I love a woman I can’t have,” he said. “In fact, she’s my brother’s wife.”
    “Life is tough,” said Fancy, with a shrug.
    “I lost my ship!”
    “People lose things every day.” She paused, looking around the spacious, well-furnished room. “From what I’ve seen, you have more—much more—than the average man, anyway.”
    “You don’t understand!”
    Fancy dropped the sheets and came to stand in front of him, looking up into his face. “I’m afraid I do. You’ve been hurt. You’re angry. And now you’re throwing a tantrum!”
    “A tantrum?!” Rage sang through Jeff’s veins; for the first time in months he felt fully alive. “How dare you say that?”
    “I dare,” she assured him evenly.
    Jeff had absolutely no answer for that. He watched Fancy in silent fury as she turned away, retrieved thesheets, and started toward the door. What was she going to do next, pull down the curtains? Roll up the rug?
    “Damnation!” he muttered.
    “I’ll be back with fresh linens in a few minutes,” she sang out, without even bothering to look back.
    Jeff was not used to people—especially women—reacting to him in quite that way. The chit was downright obnoxious, that’s what she was! “Wait a minute!” he roared.
    She stopped, looked back over one trim, bestarred shoulder. “Yes?”
    “I don’t want you to help me, do you understand? I don’t want you gathering my laundry and changing my sheets—”
    “Someone has to do it,” came the flippant reply, before the minx disappeared entirely.
    Jeff lunged to the doorway, gripping the framework in white-knuckled hands. “Not you, God damn it!” he bellowed.
    Fancy spread one of the sheets on the floor of the hallway and then bundled all the other laundry into it. “Why not me?” she asked, without particular emotion.
    “Because—”
    “Yes?” urged the imp, swinging the enormous bundle up onto her back like a female Saint Nicholas.
    Again, Jeff Corbin, always glib, was stuck for an answer. Hellfire and spit, he’d never met a more annoying woman in his life!
    By the time she’d returned, this time carrying a stack of neatly folded sheets, he had had a chance to come up with some ammunition. Sprawled comfortably in a chair near the window, he watched as she began remaking the bed.
    “I never would have