Falling for Rain Read Free

be anyone else. Seeing her again tonight was all he needed to convince him of this. But he had to make her stay long enough to convince her too.
    And he knew how he was going to do it, too. She wasn't going to like it, but then he wasn't going to give her a choice in the matter.        
         

Chapter 2
    If Emily had remembered to pack her travelling alarm clock, she might have carried out her mission as planned. If she had arrived at the lawyer's office at 9 a.m. instead of 11:30, she might have been back in Toronto by the same evening, leaving the lawyer to fight with Rain Storm and with her sense of superiority intact.
    But when she awoke the morning after her arrival, she was blissfully unaware of the larger picture.  She was, however, thoroughly annoyed with herself for not driving into town the night before. As Rain had pointed out, there was no hot water, and Emily, confronted with the mysteries of the hot water tank, was unable to solve them.
    The house itself was musty after being shut up for months on end, and a thick layer of dust coated every surface. The thick feather mattress that her grandmother had made was missing from her old bedroom, and, forced to sleep in what used to be her parents' room, she couldn't help but feel uneasy. Lying awake until almost dawn, listening to the old house creak and groan, it was no wonder in the end that she had overslept.
    She heated water for washing on the electric stove in the kitchen and carried it to the bathroom to add to the cold, rusty-looking water in the sink. She washed her face and opened one of the jars of cosmetics she had arranged beside the basin. The face that looked out of the mirror at her was soft. Her eyes were a soft brown shaded with long thick lashes. Her nose was tiny with a slight tilt, and her lips were soft and full. Her hair was styled in a severe blunt cut, but it constantly threatened to wave softly over her forehead.
    When they were children, Rain had called her his little fawn, and it was this impression of vulnerability that Emily eradicated every morning with jars of makeup and a hair dryer. There was no room for innocence in her life; she was tough, and everyone, including Rain Storm, would know it. It was like a mantra for her: I am strong, I am strong . If she said it enough, perhaps one day it would be true.
    She dressed in a straight black skirt that came just above the knees, a plain white blouse, and a severe black jacket. Black stockings and simple black leather pumps finished the look, what fashion magazines called power dressing. It was designed to be intimidating, but Emily carried it off to the point of hostility.
         * * *
    Although Martin Wright was foot taller and a hundred pounds heavier with a reputation in the village for being ruthless in business matters, he was reluctant to tell Emily the news.  He cleared his throat boldly. “I'm afraid I have some bad news for you, Ms. Alexander.”
    To the rest of the world, Rain Storm was Raymond or Ray Storm or just Storm.  Rain was Emily’s childhood pet name for him, and from her he accepted this play on his name – even liked it – as he liked everything about Emily.  However, anyone else who thought they could get away with calling him Rain had found themselves sprawled face down in the dirt of the schoolyard. He was a tough kid, sensitive to his parentless state, always on the alert to any slight. Most of the kids called him Storm, just to be on the safe side, and although he had long stopped getting into fights, the use of his last name had followed him into adulthood.
    Aware of the formal and tense nature of the visit, the lawyer used Rain’s full name with Emily. “Mr. Raymond Storm came into my office this morning with a letter your father had written before he died.”
    “Well, he couldn't have written it after he died.” She had learned from Jonathon never to give her opponent an inch.
    The lawyer paused to determine whether she had said this