Partners by Contract Read Online Free PDF Page A

hadn’t kissed him!
    A kiss—even an innocent, well-intentioned one—in those circumstances, when emotions were running high, when the people involved were both hurting like hell and feeling empty, was always going to be liable to go horribly wrong.
    When you added the fact that one person, namely herself, had been nursing a forbidden passion for the other for some years then the odds on something going horribly wrong became a lot shorter. The horribly wrong part became almost inevitable when the person instigating the kiss happened to possess a face and body identical to the wife the grieving husband had just lost.
    ‘Sorry about that, Con,’ she’d said huskily when the storm of weeping had at last abated. She’d slipped out of his light, comforting embrace.
    ‘There’s no point keeping it locked in, Phoebe,’ Con had replied gently, levering himself onto the arm of the sofa and looking compassionately down into her tear-stained face. ‘And there’s no need to apologise for crying—not to me.’
    The kindness in his voice had made the tears well afresh. ‘Oh, God!’ she gasped shakily, grabbing the loose hem of his blue denim Oxford shirt and mopping her face. ‘S-sorry.’
    Connor had produced a tissue from somewhere on his person and Phoebe had blown her nose noisily on it.
    ‘Before, I couldn’t cry, now I can’t stop. How about you?’
    ‘Me?’
    ‘Have you cried, Con?’
    He didn’t answer, she hadn’t really expected him to. Con wasn’t a sharing, caring, sort of bloke. Even in the semi-lit room where his features were reduced to a series of hard planes and complementary brooding shadows, she could tell his control had stepped up a notch, the tension emanating from his lean frame was almost tangible.
    ‘Let’s throw a bit of light on the subject, shall we?’ she said thickly, reaching for the table lamp.
    Her painfully tear-swollen eyes narrowed against the sudden light.
    ‘We all have our own ways of coping, Phoebe.’
    ‘In other words, butt out and mind my own business.’ It was desperately hard to keep her tone light. The empty expression in his eyes made her want to cry all over again.
    ‘I wouldn’t be so rude...’
    ‘Yes, you would.’ She was comforted to see the faint amused quiver of his wide sensitive lips. The humour didn’t extend to his eyes, but it was a start.
    ‘I’m making allowances for your fragile emotional state, but—’
    ‘I think you’d be better off to make allowances for your own fragile emotional state,’ she told him bluntly. She could almost see him visibly withdrawing further from her. ‘All right.’ She held up her hands in a gesture of surrender. ‘I won’t mention empathy,’ she promised.
    Dark eyes meshed with navy blue. The colour of Connor’s eyes always was a fair barometer of his mood—the more intense his feelings, the deeper the shade.
    ‘A deal,’ Connor agreed, extending his hand to her.
    Phoebe’s fingers were enclosed in his as, still seated, hehoisted her to her feet. ‘I just can’t believe she’s gone...’ The tears started flowing once more as the extent of her loss hit her—as it did many times a day—all over again.
    ‘I know...’
    ‘I know you know,’ she gulped with a watery smile.
    His strong fingers tightened around hers so vigorously that she actually cried out.
    ‘Sorry,’ Connor said as she rubbed her crushed hand against her shoulder.
    She brushed aside his concern with an impatient gesture. ‘It would have been better if it had been me. I wouldn’t have been missed nearly as much,’ she cried, bitterness quivering in her broken voice.
    Connor was on his feet before the hissing sigh of anger had passed between his tightly clamped lips. Phoebe gave a startled bleat as she was grabbed unceremoniously by the shoulders. He just stopped short of shaking her, but it was obvious from the expression of blistering fury on his face that it had been a close thing.
    ‘If I ever hear any more of that