High-Stakes Passion Read Online Free PDF

fistful of clothes at him. “Yet he gets up every morning and thanks God for one more day!”
    She glanced at the empty beer bottles and dirty clothes in her arms with a look of disbelief. Her brows drew together and her eyes darted about the room as if she were amazed to find it straightened.
    Mark stared at her. Her brother-in-law was dying? Whathad she called it? ALS? And the poor guy had a son? What a screwed-up world. His own father had never bothered to be a part of his or Keith’s lives.
    He realized he still held the beer. Ah, finally a nice, long swallow.
    She snatched his liquid relief just as he raised the bottle to his mouth again.
    â€œWhat the hell?”
    The interfering little tyrant stalked to the bathroom, and a second later he heard the sound of the precious fluid splashing in the sink, his hopes for a cure flowing down the drain. For a moment he sat frozen by fury until, like a volcano, he erupted, spewing every curse word he knew.
    She stomped back out of the bathroom and dumped the clothes and bottles in a heap at his feet. “What a waste of a life!” A smug look of triumph illuminated her face as she sailed out of the room.

Three
    A hoarse shout penetrated her sleep. Audrey rolled out of bed, grabbed her robe and scrambled down the stairs, heading toward the origin of the cry. Did her mother need another pain shot?
    Audrey stopped and rubbed her eyes as she became more alert. Her mother had died eleven years ago, and she was at the Double M.
    Had she dreamed the sound of someone yelling out in pain? She crept to Mark’s door and listened. When she heard nothing but silence, she turned to leave.
    â€œNo!” a strangled voice called out.
    She pushed open the door and raced to his side. With the light from the connecting bathroom, she could see his shadowy figure lying on the bed. He appeared to be asleep. The sheets were tangled around the lower half of his long torso, and his face and chest glistened with sweat. His hairwas mussed and he twisted away with a low moan. His expression looked so tortured, he seemed a different man from the belligerent drunk of last night.
    Was he reliving that night the bull crushed his leg? Or was there something else in this man’s life that prompted this horrible dream?
    She reached out a tentative hand to brush a strand of hair off his cheek, but checked her dangerous impulse. Her palm hovered over him for what seemed like minutes.
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    His arm flashed up and knocked her hand away with a coarse swearword.
    Mark bolted up in a cold sweat, shaking uncontrollably. His leg throbbed. Relentless images flashed through his mind.
    His mom was screaming. Mark dragged Keith to the safety of the back bedroom. His brother was only three, and didn’t understand what was happening. Through the bedroom window he saw the flashing light of the police car. The medic yelled, “She’s still alive,” while the cops took his father away in handcuffs. Dad would never come back.
    And Mark knew it was all his fault.
    â€œAre you okay?” a soft voice asked.
    Mark blinked and focused on a blurry figure a few feet away. Audrey. What was she doing here? Oh, God. Had he yelled in his sleep?
    â€œJust dandy.”
    â€œAnything I can do?”
    Great. Florence Nightingale to the rescue.
    â€œNo, I’m fine.” He closed his eyes and winced, wishing he hadn’t thrown out those pain pills the doctor had prescribed. They’d kept him blessedly numb in the hospital.
    Beer. He needed a beer and an aspirin.
    He threw back the sheet and started to swing his leg to the floor, but she was still there, hovering.
    Why didn’t she just leave? He couldn’t see much, but what he saw had his blood heating up. The lush curves teased him from beneath her robe. His body hardened. At least he wasn’t thinking about the nightmare anymore.
    â€œI heard you cry out. It might help to talk about it.”
    Her melodic voice aroused him