Children of Dynasty Read Online Free PDF Page B

voice, but his radar had already detected Mariah from across the crowded room.
    He wished even more that he’d come solo.
    She stood near the bar, a petite woman who could have looked fragile. Yet, the set of her proud head gave away her strength, that of a finely wrought saber. Rising young District Attorney Lyle Thomas, a burly blond who might have descended from the Vikings, rested a predatory paw on her arm. The man stood big enough to put Rory in his place if he gave in to a sudden irrational impulse to knock that hand off Mariah.
    Even through his suit coat, Sylvia’s lacquered nails dug into his forearm. Rory felt certain that in her low-cut leather sheath she had every man in the room aware of her wide-set, generous breasts. Black hair made a smooth fall over her bare shoulders. Yet he thought she came up wanting beside Mariah’s trim figure in a tasteful black velvet tunic, her golden hair caught up at the nape of her slender neck.
    After drinks and a buffet supper, an enthusiastic crowd greeted Sylvia’s father, the featured speaker of the evening.
    “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen.” With a sharp sweep of the room, Senator Lawrence Chatsworth managed to look at each person. “I recognize all my many friends here this evening, and I can’t begin to tell you how much your support means.”
    Takei Takayashi led a round of applause.
    While Chatsworth warmed to the topic of national security, Sylvia slid a hand onto Rory’s thigh and whispered, “Bored yet?”
    “Of course, but we ought to stay awhile.”
    The fact was that he couldn’t have been dragged out of here. Repositioning his chair, he checked how Lyle staked his claim on Mariah and studied the pale shadow at the hollow of her throat. When he’d thought of seeing her again, he’d imagined the same girl, just a few years older.
    But she was not the same; Mariah was more vivid than he recalled, more passionate … and suspicious, the way she’d asked if he invited her to the DCI party. Yet, how could he blame her? In her version of events, eight years ago he’d married another woman completely without warning. That Mariah had refused to talk to him for months before he exchanged vows with Elizabeth was no excuse in her view. Hell, they said peoples’ memories were so poor that even eyewitness accounts were unreliable. How could either of them be expected to have an accurate, much less dispassionate version of events? Especially after time had faded their colors and muted their sounds.
    While Rory studied Mariah, their glances suddenly met and held. Her faced remained in placid lines, yet her eyes revealed something deeper … a stark baring of what also ate at him, and had grown sharper since the last time he saw her. He nearly got up and went to her, but managed to stay in his seat when she turned away and smiled at something Lyle said.
    Rory’s reserve lasted until he applauded a speech he hadn’t heard, and in the hubbub of chatter and pushing back of chairs, Mariah rose and walked alone to the wall of windows.
    “I have some business with Miss Grant,” he muttered to Sylvia and got up. A poor excuse, but it would have to do. The remembered curve of Mariah’s cheek seemed a magnet for his palm.
    When he drew closer to her the rest of the room receded; the spotlights dimmed to little stars. Outside, downtown had donned its night sparkle; one of the Bay Bridge towers glimmered, and an approaching fogbank blotted out the others.
    Mariah appeared to study the skyline.
    Rory cleared his throat.
    She turned and said, “What are you doing over here? Aren’t you squiring old ‘Larry’s’ daughter to keep him doing favors for your father?”
    At her uncanny aim, he flinched. “I’m not involved in any so-called favors.”
    She shook her head so vehemently that her hair brushed her velvet-clad shoulders. “You thought you were clever at the party, talking about the past to soften me up, so I’d spill company secrets.”
    There, he saw