A Self-Made Man Read Online Free PDF

wrist.
    She turned and glared at him icily, willing him to release her. It was a look that had intimidated many an importunate admirer.
    But of course it didn’t work on him. Not on Adam.
    â€œI’m beginning to wonder,” he said quietly, studying her face, “if I might have been wrong.”
    â€œWrong about what? That I’ve changed? Yes, Adam, you were quite wrong about that. Now, if you’ll excuse me—”
    â€œNo,” he said, a half smile curling his upper lip, and a sardonic angle high on one dark eyebrow. “I mean I may have been wrong about married money.” He looked down at her huge, vulgar, square-cut diamond, tilting her hand so that it flashed in the light. “It’s quite possible that you had to work much harder for your paycheck than I did.”
    Â 
    G WEN DIDN’T SHOW UP at the house after the party, for which Lacy should have been grateful. But as the long night wore on, Lacy realized that even an argument with her stepdaughter would have been preferable to being alone with her thoughts.
    Lacy pounded her pillow for hours, making an inventory of the deadly comebacks she should have used, the perfectly crafted put-downs that would have forced Adam Kendall to choke on his own effrontery. But a fat lot of good they did her now, spoken onlyto Hamlet, her silver Persian kitten who blinked at her angry tone, curled up in the crook of her knee, and fell asleep halfway through her best line.
    Stroking Hamlet’s silken fur and envying him his easy slumber, she struggled for hours with frustration, confusion and something that felt like fear. How long was Adam planning to stay? And how much damage could he do to her peace of mind before he grew tired of the game and jetted away again to parts unknown?
    She buried her face in her pillow. Oh, God, what was she going to do? The question drummed against her mind relentlessly—but she found no answer in the desperate darkness.
    When dawn finally crawled in through the window, Lacy unwound herself from the knotted covers with relief. She hated this feeling—and she despised the wreck she saw in her mirror, all puffy eyes and tangled hair.
    Suddenly her pride came marching in belatedly to her rescue. This wasn’t Lacy Morgan. This looked more like pitiful Lacy Mayfair. And she wouldn’t stand for it—she had fought too hard to banish that lonely little girl. Lacy Mayfair had foolishly allowed Adam to have the final word last night. But this morning belonged to Mrs. Malcolm Morgan.
    So…what was she going to do? She was going to do what she had always done. She was going to protect herself and survive. She was going to take the lessons she’d learned over the past ten years and put them to work. Lessons about courage, about compartmentalizing, about burying unwanted emotions, about squaring her shoulders and soldiering on. Shewas going to wrap herself in indifference so thick even Adam Kendall’s blue eyes couldn’t pierce it, so cold even his hot fingers couldn’t melt it.
    In fact, she told her reflection sternly, for the first time in ten years she was now completely free. A long-dreaded storm had finally broken. After ten years of seeing Adam only in dreams, she had been forced to talk to him, look into his eyes, feel his fingers on her skin.
    It had hurt, but she had survived. Fate had fired its last bullet at her—and it had missed. There was nothing left to fear.
    Two hours later, when she arrived at the hospital, a cucumber lotion had soothed her eyes, a small silver clip snugged her hair neatly into its accustomed French twist, and a crisp ice-blue suit completed the picture of a calm working professional.
    No more angst. Now it was simply back to business. Raising money, putting out office brush fires, posing with happy parents who wanted to remember their friends on the staff of Pringle Island General Hospital. These were all things that the competent Lacy