Daring Dylan (The Billionaire Brotherhood Book 2) Read Online Free PDF Page A

picking blueberries.” She winced as the words came out of her
mouth. The admission made her sound about as sophisticated as Little Red Riding
Hood. Considering Dylan’s lady-killer reputation, he could easily fill the role
of Big Bad Wolf.
    He eyed her
curiously for a moment. “You grew up around here?”
    “Yep. Why?”
    “Do you
know a guy named Clayton Harris?”
    “You mean Doctor Harris?” She stressed Clay’s
professional title. Her interrogation skills clearly left something to be
desired since Richie Rich had taken control of the questioning so easily.
“Sure, I know him.”
    “What’s he
like?”
    “Nice guy,
good friend.” She couldn’t possibly sum up what Clay meant to her in a few
words. Thinking of his struggle to find out who he was and where he belonged,
she couldn’t resist the temptation to try and shake Dylan Bradford’s rock-solid
self-assurance. “He looks a lot like you actually.”

Chapter Three

 
    “No.” The
single syllable response sliced through the air like a scalpel while Dylan
stopped the car with robotic precision at the fork in the road. Only the rain
on the car roof and the whap-whap of the windshield wipers interrupted the
silence. “Which way?”
    Well, he
hadn’t fallen apart from her needling, but she’d obviously hit a sore spot.
“Right,” Gracie directed. “About another quarter of a mile. There’s a sign at
the end of a little lane.”
    Once he’d
reached the destination, his headlights picked up the script lettering and he
turned onto the driveway. “Liberty House? What’s that? A hotel?”
    “A
B&B.” She unbuckled her seatbelt and prepared to make a dash through the
rain.
    Gran had
turned on the exterior lights. The soft glow of Liberty House welcomed Gracie
home with the guest wings stretched out like giant arms. Small lights along the
walk revealed sprouts of pink phlox. Spiky delphinium stalked among the
boxwoods edging the front porch. The building exuded a charm that combined the
solid structure of days gone by, her grandfather’s expert carpentry, and her
grandmother’s loving care.
    The
unpleasantness of the past few weeks dissolved. Tears Gracie had kept frozen
inside threatened to melt under the onslaught of warmth and comfort that gushed
through her. She bent her head to hide any betraying emotion and hugged MacDuff
close.
    “Thanks for
the ride.” Her fingers groped for the handle. “Turn right at the end of the
drive, go about a mile, and look for a dilapidated school house with a caved in
roof.” She lifted her eyebrows to ask if he got that, and he nodded. “Turn left
onto Cleveland Road.”
    “You’re
kidding, right?”
    “Nope, but
the road’s narrow and overgrown. The sign’s been missing for years.” She
smirked. “See you around, Dylan Bradford.”
    “Wait,” he
commanded. “I don’t know your name.”
    “It’s
Gracie.” Impatient to see Gran and be out of the presence of another difficult
man, she prepared to jump and make a dash through the rain. “Gracie O’Donnell.”
    The tail of
her jacket hooked on the door handle, halting her exit. He leaned forward to assist
her, but she jerked free, slammed the door, and didn’t look back. Entering the
house, she heaved a sigh. Home at last.
    “Gran!” She
set MacDuff on the parquet floor and sniffed the familiar lemon furniture
polish and lavender potpourri. Those heavenly aromas mingled with Gran’s
cooking, stirring up a treasure-trove of childhood memories.
    “Finally!”
Her white-haired grandmother’s sweet voice that had soothed countless fears and
read thousands of bedtime stories floated to her. Emerging from the kitchen at
the end of the hall, Gran dried her hands on her apron. “I didn’t hear your
car. Why did you come in through the front? Looks like you got caught in the
rain. What’s that on your face? Is Baxter with you?”
    She opened
her arms, but Gracie stepped back. “No, wait. I’m all wet.”
    “A bit of
damp doesn’t matter, not