Paper Rose

Paper Rose Read Free

Book: Paper Rose Read Free
Author: Diana Palmer
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the woods.”
    He leaned forward, one elbow on the beautiful cherry wood of the table, and stared right into her eyes.
    She felt nauseous. She folded her arms over her breasts and stared into space, shivering. It was the worst nightmare she’d faced in her young life.
    â€œAll right, don’t go into mental convulsions over it,” he said quietly. He looked as if nothing ever ruffled him. In fact, very little did. “He won’t touch you, I guarantee it. I have a solution.”
    â€œA solution?” Her green eyes were wide and wet, and full of hope.
    â€œI know of a scholarship you can get at George Washington University, outside Washington, D.C.,” he said, thinking how good it was that he’d learned to lie with such a straight face, and never thinking this lie might come back to haunt him. “Books and board included. It’s for needy cases. You’d certainly qualify. Interested?”
    She was hesitant. “Yes. But…well, how would I get there, and apply?”
    â€œForget the logistics for now. They aren’t important. They have a good archaeology program and you’d be well out of reach of your stepfather. If you want it, say the word.”
    â€œYes, I want it!” she said. “But I’ll have to go back home…”
    â€œNo, you won’t,” he said shortly. “Not ever again.” He threw his legs off the chair and got up, reaching for the telephone. He punched in a number, waited, and then began to speak in a language that was positively not English.
    She’d lived around Lakota people most of her young life, but she’d never heard the language spoken like this. It was full of rising and falling tones, and sang of ancient places and the sound of the wind. She loved the sound of it in his deep voice.
    All too soon he ended the conversation. “Let’s go.”
    â€œThe truck, the other orders,” she protested weakly.
    â€œI’ll have the truck taken back to your stepfather, along with a message.” He didn’t mention that he planned to deliver both.
    â€œBut where am I going?”
    â€œTo my mother on the reservation,” he said. “My father died earlier this year, so she’s alone. She’ll enjoy your company.”
    â€œI don’t have clothes,” she protested.
    â€œI’ll get yours from your stepfather.”
    â€œYou make this sound so easy,” she said, amazed.
    â€œMost things are easy if you can get past the red tape. I learned long ago to cut it close to the bone.” He opened the door. “Coming?”
    She got up, feeling suddenly free and full of hope. It was like one of those everyday miracles people talked about. “Yes…”

Chapter One
    Present day
Washington, D.C.
    C ameras were flashing all around Cecily Peterson. Microphones wielded by acrobatic television journalists were being thrust in her face as she walked quite calmly out of the fund-raising dinner that Senator Matt Holden was hosting.
    Behind her, a furious tall man with a long braid of black hair was waiting for a tureen of expensive crab bisque to complete its trip down the once-spotless dress slacks of his tuxedo before he tried to move. The diamond-festooned blond socialite with him was glaring daggers at Cecily’s back.
    Cecily kept walking. “Film at eleven,” she murmured to no one in particular, and with a bright little smile.
    She didn’t really look like a woman whose entire life had crashed and burned in the space of a few minutes. Her life was like Tate Winthrop’s tuxedo—in ruins. Everything was going to change now.
    She went to the big black utility vehicle that her date had driven her here in, to wait for him to join her. Her high heels were damp from the grass. She could feel her medium blond hair coming down from its high, complicated coiffure. The street and traffic lights were blurs of color to her pale green eyes because she

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