Queen Bitch of the Callowwood Pack (Siren Publishing Classic) Read Online Free PDF

if I’m sitting down with you.” Then her eyes focused on her daughter critically. “You’re sure you’ll be okay?”
    “I’m sure, Mom. Just tired.”
    Beth snorted and shook her head fondly, but she pasted a plastic smile on her face for the benefit of the oncoming well-wishers. Julianna tried to copy her mother’s composure, but the man seated to her left distracted her each time he shifted in his seat.
    Why is he still sitting next to me? He probably thinks I’ll keel over again. He wasn’t this attentive when I threw myself at him eighteen years ago. Chagrin slid through her again, but she lifted her head and faced the mourners, grateful she didn’t have to face Jeff’s assessing gaze.
    Everyone wanted to say something to her mother or Jeff, but only a few had something to say to her. She had the oddest feeling she was some no-name courtier caught between a king and his grieving friend while the masses came to pay homage. She tried to focus on each and every person who came to the table, catching their eyes and nodding in greeting. Adopted or not, she owned the role of Gerry’s daughter, and she deserved the right to be in the “grieving party.”
    But you left, remember? Most of these folks don’t even know you.
    Icy dismay smothered her anger, and she dropped her eyes as grief swelled into the empty space.
    I didn’t mean to leave you for so long, Dad. Time just got away from me, and suddenly it was eighteen years later. I’m so sorry.
    Tears slid down her cheeks before she could check their flow while someone told a heartwarming story of her dad. She tried to calm her breathing, but her sobs forced their way out. Jeff shifted at her side and wrapped one hand around hers under the edge of the table. Her eyes closed on the room, and she bit her lip as she felt him lean closer.
    “Are you all right?” he whispered, his scent filled with concern.
    She shook her head, blindly. “No, my father’s dead, and I’m the worst daughter ever.”
    “Now, I can’t believe that—”
    “It’s true. I wasn’t there for him when he got sick. I didn’t come home often enough. I let him down.”
    “But you did come home, and you were here at the end.” Jeff squeezed her hand. “That’s all that matters. He knew you loved him. Whenever I saw him, he always talked about you with pride.”
    Julianna opened her eyes and turned to look at him, abashed. “He talked about me?”
    “All the time. You might not have been here, but we all knew when you got your degrees. Your dad bragged about the great steps you were taking in education.” Jeff gave her a gentle half-smile and wiped the tears off her face with the pad of his thumb.
    Julianna didn’t know what surprised her more, her dad talking about her to Jeff Lightfoot or Jeff gently smoothing her tears. I’d have paid a king’s ransom for him to do this to me when I was a girl .
    She gave him a tremulous smile and took a deep breath.
    “Thanks.”
    “You’re welcome.”
    He squeezed her hand again, and his words gave her the strength to face the rest of the reception with graciousness. Many people told funny stories of her father, and the group laughed heartily. A pattern emerged of a man well-liked and humorous, who gave back to the community and showed his respect to everyone he knew. She hadn’t been present for many of the events in her father’s life, and it saddened her that she’d missed so much when she’d run away.
    I’m sorry, Dad. I won’t run ever again.
    Julianna didn’t look at Jeff when her breath began to hitch again, but she felt his support and strength through the hand he still held beneath the table. She ached to feel his arms around her once more, but she contented herself with his comforting grip. It was more than she’d ever expected or hoped for.
    As the stories continued, she noticed several women in the crowd, some significantly younger than her, giving her venomous glances and aggressive grimaces rather than smiles. Her