If She Only Knew Read Online Free PDF

of your heart, now there’s an interesting concept,” Alex said, skipping over Nick’s concerns.
    â€œIsn’t it?” Nick grabbed the door handle. Wind and rain lashed the cab. “That’s my best offer, Alex. My only offer. I’ll be there within the week. Take it or leave it.” Pumping the accelerator, Nick turned on the ignition and didn’t wait for an answer. The Dodge’s engine coughed, sputtered, then caught.
    Cross with the world in general and himself in particular, Nick slammed the door shut and flipped on the wipers. Nothing his brother could say would make any difference one way or another.
    Like it or not, he was on his way to San Francisco.
    â€œHell,” he ground out as the wipers slapped away the rain and he threw his pickup into reverse. Gravel sprayed and, on the bench seat beside him, Tough Guy nearly lost his balance.
    â€œSorry,” Nick growled as he jerked the truck into first and glowered through the foggy windshield. Alex stood in the puddle-strewn lot, his wool coat catching in the breeze, his expression as dour as an undertaker’s. Nick snapped on the wheezing defroster, then flipped the stations of the radio, but he heard only static.
    He thought of Marla, and his gut tightened. He still wanted her. After fifteen years. Fifteen damned years. There had been more than a dozen women in his life since then, but none of them, not one woman had left the deep impressions, the scars upon his soul that she had. His gaze narrowed on his reflection in the rearview mirror. Harsh blue eyes glared back at him. “You’re a fool, Cahill,” he growled under his breath. “A goddamned fool.”

Chapter Two
    â€œWill Mom remember me?” an impertinent girl’s voice demanded, and Marla strained to open her eyes. The pain had abated, probably due to some kind of medication, but she couldn’t move her mouth. Her tongue felt thick and tasted awful, her eyelids were too heavy to open and she had no sense of time. She knew only that she’d floated in and out of this state of semiconsciousness, her mind a jumbled blur. But she wanted to see her daughter. Marla fought to lift a lid but couldn’t.
    â€œOf course your mother will remember you,” her mother-in-law said softly, her sharp, staccato footsteps snapping loudly as she approached the bed, the soft chink of jewelry accompanying the scent of that same elusive perfume. “Don’t worry.”
    â€œBut she looks terrible.” The girl again—her daughter. “I thought she’d be better by now.”
    â€œShe is, but it just takes time, Cissy. We’re all going to have to be patient.” There was a tiny hint of reproach in the older woman’s voice, almost a warning.
    â€œI know, I know,” Cissy said with a theatrical sigh.
    In the past few days floating in and out of semiconsciousness, Marla had come to recognize the nursing staff, Dr. Robertson and her family members by their colognes, their footsteps, and their voices, though often she was confused, in that nether state between waking and sleeping, never knowing if she was dreaming or if the medication was keeping her mind foggy.
    She had pieced together that the older woman, her mother-in-law, was Eugenia Cahill and that Eugenia’s husband wasn’t around, maybe dead or incapacitated or just not interested; at least he’d never been to visit that she could remember . . . but her memory was the problem. A major problem.
    Her mother-in-law seemed sincere, caring and had visited often . . . or at least Marla thought she had. Cissy hadn’t been here before . . . or had she? Marla couldn’t remember. Then there was her husband. Alex. A stranger and a man she should feel some tender emotion for, yet didn’t. Her head began to pound again, setting off a pain so intense it felt as if skaters were turning triple axels on razor-sharp blades in her brain. The powerful