No Rules Read Online Free PDF Page A

friendly and happy. The kind of man who would never reject his only child and shut her out of his life. “No,” she bit off. “He didn’t.”
    “Damn it,” he mumbled, obviously irritated. “He said he would.”
    It was probably a good time to press her advantage. She blew out a breath, gathering her outrage. “Listen, Mr. Donovan. I haven’t been on speaking terms with my father in fifteen years, so no, he didn’t mention you. And call me crazy, but I don’t care for men breaking into my house in the middle of the night. Now, are you leaving, or do I have to call the sheriff?”
    She lifted her chin with determination and hoped he didn’t know about the miserable lack of cell phone service out here, or the fact that she’d already had the phone company disconnect the landline, not thinking she’d need it. Bright move, Jess.
    Her threat to call for help didn’t appear to bother him. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a key and dangled it in front of her with exaggerated patience. “Call if you want. It’s not breaking in when you have a key.”
    She blinked as he slipped it back into his pocket. “Why do you have a key to my father’s house?”
    “Because we were close friends.”
    “Professor Drake said my father didn’t have any close friends.”
    “Oh, for…He left me the contents of this house, didn’t he?”
    “Yes, very suspicious, seeing that no one else at the funeral seemed to know you.”
    He looked annoyed at having to explain himself. “Our friendship wasn’t exactly public knowledge.”
    Not public knowledge?
    Oh! The implication registered with a jolt, and Jess felt her mouth open in surprise as the real reason for her parents’ divorce became clear. Poor Mom, abandoned for a male partner, and a much younger one at that. She stared at the man who seemed a perfect example of what women found attractive. You just never knew.
    “You mean you and my father…” she began.
    Donovan scrunched his eyebrows momentarily, then gave her an incredulous stare. “Not that kind of friendship. Jesus.” He shook his head in apparent disbelief. “Look, Jessie—”
    “Stop calling me that. It’s Jess.” Jessie was Daddy’s little princess, his pride and joy, and that part of her life had died long ago.
    “Fine. Jess. Are you sure Wally didn’t contact you in any way? Send something in the mail, maybe a map? Leave a message on your phone? A note with his lawyer?”
    She shook her head in stubborn annoyance. “I told you, we’d been out of touch for fifteen years. No notes, no calls.” It wasn’t exactly true. She paused, then decided the whole truth, no matter how personal and private, might help convince him that things hadn’t gone the way her father had led him to believe. “Okay, he did stop by to see me a few days ago,” she admitted, then immediately held up a hand to ward off the excited look on his face. “No, wait. It was a brief visit, two hours tops, and he never mentioned your name. He didn’t talk about anything important. Not his work, not current events, not anything relevant. The fact is,” she said, then hesitated, an attempt to soften the blow. After all, he had been her father’s friend, “he didn’t make much sense, as if his mental abilities had deteriorated. It was sad. He never gave me anything, either, so I can’t possibly have whatever it is you’re looking for.”
    She’d swear he hadn’t heard anything after the first sentence. He stepped closer, close enough that she smelled wet leather and the faint scent of pine, as if he’d been rolling around under the trees. On him, it was disturbingly manly. He reached for her, closing one gloved hand around her arm, holding it a little too tightly in his intensity. She shrank back at the big dose of alpha male, more imposing than any man she’d ever met. The fact that her rapid breaths were due to a thrill that most definitely was not paralyzing terror must mean she’d made progress with her