Mom for the CEO's Daughter Read Free Page B

center island. His sexily mussed hair reminded her of how he’d looked at the beach the day before. Young. Carefree. Happy. As happy as she felt right now.
    Memories of their kiss sent joy shivering through her. One kiss wasn’t a happy ending, but it was the start, finally, of something personal between them.
    Then she met his silver-blue eyes. Worry flickered through them as he sighed wearily.
    â€œWe need to talk.”
    She headed for the cupboard, ignoring the bucketful of anxiety that landed in her stomach with a plop. For all she knew, the “talk” he wanted to have might be something good. Not bad. Maybe he wanted to find a way to work their new personal relationship into their professional lives?
    She threw together a pot of coffee, shoring up her courage with positive thoughts. But when she turned from the cupboard, she saw his eyes again. Something had been added to the worry. Something that appeared to be regret.
    Swallowing, she headed for the island. Needing to be able to see his eyes, she walked past the chair beside his and chose the one across from him.
    â€œThis thing between us,” he said, motioning from her to him and back to her again, “isn’t a good idea.”
    Anger rushed through her. She’d been in love with this man for months and
he
got to be the one to decide whether or not they’d pursue this? “It seemed to be a very good idea last night.”
    His gaze meandered over her. He took in the swell of her breasts that peeked above the U of her tank top, the long length of her neck, her mouth and finally caught her gaze.
    â€œI had a really bad marriage.”
    â€œThat’s what most people who are divorced say.”
    â€œMy wife adored me until she realized what my money could do for her.”
    She frowned. “She stole from you?”
    â€œNo. She changed.”
    â€œPeople are supposed to change. To grow.”
    â€œNot like this.”
    The coffeepot gurgled its final release. Kara slid off her stool, walked over to the counter and grabbed two mugs.
    When she brought their coffee to the center island, she caught him staring at her. The angle of his gaze told her he’d been looking at her butt.
    As she walked closer, he studied every inch of her, setting off a firestorm of sparks inside her and urging her not to quit, not to give up on him, on them. He
was
attracted to her. And he wanted this. He’d just hit a stumbling block because of the way his marriage had ended.
    â€œDrink this.” She set the mug in front of him.
    He shook his head. “Caffeine won’t change my mind.”
    â€œYou can’t judge all relationships based on one bad marriage.”
    â€œMy divorce didn’t sour me. It taught me a lesson. A lesson about money. When you hit a certain point of wealth, you don’t own the money anymore. It owns you.”
    She took her mug to her lips, but didn’t sip. “That’s sort of absurd. Money doesn’t have that much control. You have the control.”
    â€œReally? If money’s not that important, explain to me why I didn’t know about your past.”
    Heat rose to her cheeks. “You did know. I told you I was raised by a single mum.”
    â€œWho couldn’t afford to take you on vacations.”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œBaloney.” He waved his hand. “I don’t mean baloney on the vacations. I mean baloney on your pat story. Something about the fact you were poor really bothers you and you won’t talk about it. Maybe something embarrassing happened. Maybe you were merely kept from having something you desperately wanted. But whatever it was, it bothers you enough that it controls you. It controls how you tell your story.”
    She licked her lips. “It doesn’t.”
    â€œIt does.” He sucked in a breath. “Otherwise, you’d give me the whole story, not just the easy parts.”
    â€œAll right.” She set her mug