In His Brother's Place Read Online Free PDF Page A

she muttered between clenched teeth. “No matter how much it cost or how long it takes....”
    “The damned thing’s insured. Don’t worry about it. Let’s have a look at you.”
    Switching on a table lamp, he lifted her hand away from the injury. As his fingertips explored the rising lump, their touch sent shimmers of heat up her thighs. She was acutely aware of his nearness, the scent of his hair, the sound of his breathing. A moist ache stirred in the depths of her body.
    “You’ve got a nasty bruise,” he said. “We keep an ice bag in the kitchen. Hang on. I’ll fill it for you.”
    “Please don’t bother. I’ll be fine.” Her heart was pounding. She needed to get away.
    “No bother. It’ll only take a minute.” Rising, he strode back through the dining room and through the swinging door into the kitchen.
    Angie waited until the door had closed behind him. Then she pushed to her feet, limped out to the patio and fled up the outside stairs.
    Lucas was asleep in his father’s childhood bed, his hair a dark spill on the pillow. Aching with tenderness, Angie gazed down at him. Her son was so precious, so innocent and trusting, and she was all the protection he had.
    All she wanted was what was best for him. But how could she know what that was? Was he safer in this place with no gangs, no sirens, no gunshots in the night...or would he be better off far away from the cool, calculating man downstairs whose agenda hadn’t yet come to light?
    The boxes from Lucas’s old room were piled next to the bed. Angie had unpacked his clothes but left his toys, books and other small possessions for tomorrow. Now she found herself rummaging through the cardboard cartons, her fingers seeking then finding the familiar shape, the oval frame surrounding a childproof Plexiglas surface.
    The moon gleamed through the window, casting its soft light on Justin’s photograph. Angie’s finger brushed the corner of the smiling mouth. This man was Lucas’s father, not the gruff, scheming imposter who masqueraded behind the same face. She would remember that truth in the days ahead, and she would make sure Lucas remembered it, too.
    Setting the photo on the nightstand, she turned it toward the bed, where the boy would see it when he awakened. Then, with a last glance at her sleeping son, she tiptoed out of the room.

Three
    J ordan was at the kitchen table, drinking his early morning coffee, when a rumpled elf appeared in the doorway. Lucas’s cowlick was standing straight up. His blue-striped T-shirt was inside out and his sneakers trailed untied laces.
    He stared at Jordan for a thoughtful moment. “Are you really not my daddy?” he asked.
    “I’m really not your daddy.” Jordan tried to ignore the unaccustomed tug at his emotions. “I’m your uncle Jordan, and that’s what you can call me.” He looked the boy up and down. “I take it you dressed yourself. Where’s your mother?”
    “Mommy’s asleep.” His wide dark eyes, so like Angie’s, roamed the kitchen. “I’m hungry. What’s to eat?”
    Jordan rose. Most days, coffee was all the breakfast he wanted. Marta wouldn’t be here till after eight, and it was barely seven. He could hardly let a child go hungry that long. “What do you like?” he asked.
    “Pancakes.”
    “All right, I’ll see what I can do.” There was a box of pancake mix in the cupboard. Gathering dishes and utensils, Jordan set to work. The first three pancakes stuck to the griddle and ended up in the trash. On the next try he had better luck. He was able to drop three respectable-looking pancakes onto Lucas’s plate.
    The boy stared at the pancakes and shook his head.
    “Now what’s the matter?” Jordan demanded.
    “Mommy makes pancakes like a teddy bear. I want a teddy bear.”
    Blast it, where was the boy’s mother? Jordan sighed. “So how do I make a teddy bear?”
    “Like this.” Lucas arranged the pancakes to form a head and ears. “But the head is bigger and they’re all