Perfect Specimen Read Online Free PDF Page B

through in her life.”
    Mark’s carefully modulated, professionally informed tone softened. “Like I said, if you two were an item, I’d say stick it out, try to help her. But she’s obviously a basket case. And forgive me if I don’t want to spend my family holidays sitting across the table from an unbalanced woman, especially if there’s a carving knife within reach.”
    Clay scowled at the image. “I’m not saying I want to marry her. I just want to give the relationship a fair shot. To find out if she is the one. And meanwhile, if someone’s abusing her, then either way, I want to help her.”
    “Unfortunately, if she’s as far gone as she sounds, you can’t help. She needs a professional. And not me, because I can’t be objective. But I can recommend someone.” Mark’s expression grew stern. “If you really want to help, give the diary back, let her go, and refer her to one of my colleagues.” Turning toward the window, he added dryly, “I hear a car. Is the diary still on the kitchen table?”
    Clay nodded.
    “Go get it then.”
    “If I give it to her, that’s that. No more connection.”
    “Clay . . .”
    “I’m not going to read it. But I’m not giving it back either. Not until she talks this through with me. With us .” Clay stood and walked into the front hall, ignoring his older brother’s groan. Mark would complain, but he’d come through for him, just as Clay would do for Mark if the situation were reversed and Mark needed legal advice.
    And despite himself, Clay was starting to smile. He was going to see Sara again, and this time, he’d be ready for her. No more cussing or complaining. She needed him to be strong so she could let down her guard and lean on him.
    And that’s exactly how it was going to go this time.
    Reaching the door at the same moment she did, he pulled it open before she had a chance to knock. Then he stared in dismay at her red-rimmed, bloodshot eyes.
    Had she actually been crying that hard? Over a diary?
    “Did you read it?” she demanded.
    “No, Sara. Not a word. I promise.”
    “Oh, Clay!” She surprised him again, this time by throwing herself into his arms and hugging his neck. “Thank you, thank you. I knew I could trust you. Of all the men I’ve ever known, you’re the best. In every way. Oh, God, what a relief.”
    Clay could feel Mark’s gaze on his back, and knew his brother was concerned—professionally and otherwise—by Sara’s overreaction.
    But at least she was in his arms. That was a good start. So he hugged her close, loving the softness of her skin under her white silk blouse. “That’s right, Sara. You can depend on me. All I want to do is help. And be with you.”
    “Mmm . . .” She leaned her cheek against his chest. “What a morning.”
    He stroked her soft blonde curls. “Yeah.”
    When she finally lifted her face, she was smiling wistfully. “You shouldn’t have taken the journal, but at least now we can say good-bye nicely. I hated sending you away angry this morning. Not that I blamed you, but this is so much nicer.”
    Clay arched a playful eyebrow. “Before we get to that, there’s someone I want you to meet. The ugly guy standing right behind me.”
    “ What ?” Sara pulled free, clearly startled. Then she saw Mark and her smile returned. “Dr. Ryerson, I presume? Which one are you?”
    “The psychologist.” Mark’s expression was warm as he shook her hand. “Nice to meet you, Sara. My name’s Mark.”
    “A lawyer, a doctor and a psychologist.” Her blue eyes twinkled. “Your mother took that song seriously, I guess, and didn’t let any of you grow up to be cowboys.”
    “The jury’s still out on the youngest one,” Mark said with a laugh. “But he’s shaping up to be more of a bum than anything else.”
    “Well, if he’s half as handsome as his big brothers, he can make a fine living as a gigolo.”
    Mark laughed again, but his expression was gentle. “I can see why Clay’s such a fool for