Don't Tell Read Online Free PDF

Eli and Dana, she’d never had to hire a babysitter, not once in the seven years since arriving in Chicago with little more than the shirt on her back.
    And now he was gone. Eli was gone. Regret speared like a lance. He’d never see her graduate, and she was so close. Only one more quarter and she’d have her degree. It was still hard to believe. She, a high-school dropout would soon have a college degree. Deep in her heart she thanked Dana for pushing her to get the GED high school diploma. Deep in her heart she thanked Eli for giving her the chance to achieve so much more than she’d ever dreamed possible.
    Her hefty sigh rattled the papers on her desk. And now he was gone.
    Caroline glanced at the clock, determined not to grieve the day away. She had only another hour before Dr. Hunter was due, just enough time to finish the payroll report.
    It was the shuffling sound that drew her from her concentration on the payroll. She’d heard that sound before, so long ago. It was the sound of hospitals, of patients dragging their feet against tiled floors, walkers and canes supporting them as they took on the agonizing task of learning to walk again. It was still a sound that could make her shudder. But she didn’t shudder. It was an unwritten law in rehab. You never showed pity or revulsion for those around you. It was a very strong ethic amongst the broken and recovering.
    Digging deep and finding a true smile, Caroline looked up from her paperwork as the shuffling ceased to find a smooth, wide hand with long fingers clutching the end of a curved wooden cane. She shifted her gaze a bit higher to find a trim waist and very broad chest covered with the coat of a double-breasted suit. She swallowed. And looked farther up. Her eyes continued upward until they reached the face of the man standing before her desk. He was tall, taller than Tom. He was dark, but certainly not menacing, his jaw strong and square, his dark brows slightly bunched. His hair was thick and black, trimmed close to his nape. A lock fell over his forehead, giving him an almost boyish look. His suit was navy and tailored and fit his broad shoulders very well. His tie was paisley and emphasized the strong muscles of his neck. Smoky gray eyes looked back at her, a serious mouth showing no trace of a smile. He abruptly hooked the cane on his belt at his back, hiding it with his suit coat.
    Inexplicably, Caroline’s heart beat a little faster. This was a man, with a capital M, as Dana would say. Now Caroline understood the meaning of „sex appeal.“ He all but exuded it from his perfect pores.
    Mercy.
    She cleared her throat. „Can – “ She stumbled over the syllable and felt her face heat in embarrassment. Although a man who looked like him probably left drooling, stuttering women in his wake every day. She cleared her throat again. „Can I help you?“
    „I hope so. I’m looking for Caroline Stewart.“
    The woman’s eyes widened and Max felt the room grow suddenly smaller. Her smile had been genuine, almost enough to tug him from the stern facade he wished to portray on his first day. Her dark brown hair hung to the middle of her back in a loose braid, a few curls escaping to frame her face. It was a nice face, all the features in the requisite places. A nice medium nose, full lips, dainty brows arched in question. But it was her eyes that drew him. Blue as the sea in the Caribbean and readable as a book. She was impressed with his face. He got that a lot. She was surprised, but not put off by his cane. That reaction was less common and meant quite a bit more.
    Then she stood, extending a steady hand. Nice, neat, unpolished nails were consistent with the simple makeup barely dusting her face. The top of her head wouldn’t reach his shoulder. Just looking at her made him feel larger, stronger. She spoke again, her voice dripping with honey. A strong, deep sexy drawl.
    „I’m Caroline Stewart.“
    Her smile had brightened a notch, drawing an