Christmas in Whitehorn Read Online Free PDF

a pile of bills. Apparently they'd been separated for a couple of years but hadn't wanted me to know. My dad had a penthouse in the city, we all had new cars. By the time everything was paid off, there wasn't much left. I had to drop out of school." She stabbed at her mashed potatoes.
    "The sad part is, I could have handled the news of their pending divorce if they'd bothered to tell me. At least we could have had an honest conversation before they died. Plus it turned out most of my friends were more interested in my lack of social standing and financial resources than in staying loyal. I grew up fast. By the time the dust settled, I was ready to take care of myself."
    She had an open face, he thought, watching her. Every emotion flashed across her eyes. She would be a lousy poker player.
    "You seem to have done a good job," he said.
    "Thanks. I tried."
    He touched the dining room table. "This looks old. Is it a family antique you managed to salvage?"
    She laughed. "I'm sure it's someone's but not mine. I bought it a couple of years ago at a garage sale. The hutch came with it." She grinned. "These days, I live for a good bargain. You should see me at the half- yearly sales. I'm formidable."
    "Sounds like it. Do you miss being rich?"
    "Who wouldn't?" She scooped up a forkful of stuffing. "But I like who I am now a whole lot more than I liked who I was before. I consider that a plus."
    She was a pint-size bundle of trouble, he thought grimly. Pretty, sexy, single and appealing. Why had he ever accepted her invitation?
    "What brings you to Whitehorn ?" he asked. "It's a long way from
Arizona
."
    For the first time that evening, she avoided his gaze. "I wanted to experience "big sky country," she said breezily . " You know – the myth of the Old West. I just sort of found my way here."
    Mark's chest tightened. She was lying. He would bet his life on it. Which meant there was something she didn't want him to know. Like Sylvia, she was a woman with secrets – and off-limits to him.

Chapter Three
     
    A fter dinner, they cleared the table, then Darcy led the way into the small living room. Mark followed, sitting at the opposite end of the sofa.
    "That was great," he said. "I'm impressed."
    "Thank you." She patted her stomach. "I'm full but don't feel as if I'm about to explode. I consider that a positive statement after a Thanksgiving dinner."
    "I didn't get through my half of the turkey."
    She laughed. "That's right. You were supposed to eat your whole twelve pounds' worth. Maybe I should pack it up and you can take it home. I have a great recipe for turkey enchiladas. I could write it down for you."
    "I don't cook much."
    She pretended surprise. "I thought all New York City detectives were incredibly domestic."
    "I missed that class." He studied her. "So you know I lived in
New York
. Am I a regular topic for gossip or is it just a sometime thing?"
    Darcy refused to give in to the embarrassment she could feel growing inside her. "Everyone has his or her fifteen minutes of fame at the Hip Hop Café," she said casually. "You were a hot topic when you moved back, but things have calmed down some since then."
    "Good to know."
    Darcy sipped her wine and regarded her guest over the rim of her glass. He was a good-looking man. Too good-looking for her long-celibate state. Tall, strong, with compelling green eyes. She liked that his dark brown hair was a tad too long and that his tailored slacks showed off his perfect butt nearly as much as his jeans did.
    She took another quick sip to keep herself from grinning. She couldn't believe she was sitting here thinking about Mark's butt. She had no right – nor was it her style. Even back in the dark ages when she'd actually dated, she'd never been overly interested in sex. She'd given in because it had been expected, but most of the time, she'd been faintly bored by the experience. In the past five years she'd missed the emotional closeness of male-female relationships more than the