Storm Over the Lake Read Online Free PDF Page B

quietly. “If you hadn’t written that story, somebody else would have. And if something’s meant to happen, young one, it will.”
    â€œYou’re a fatalist.”
    â€œYou betcha. The Mister hates what happened, but I don’t think he’d carry a grudge that far that long,” she said firmly, wiping her hands. She opened the oven door and shot the pie in, closing it gently. “He’ll get over it.”
    â€œI should live so long,” Dana murmured, pushing her taffy-colored hair back into her bun. “He’s got me for six months, and I promise I’ll pay for sins I haven’t even thought of committing before he’s through with me. He can be so ruthless, Lillian.”
    â€œAnd so blind.”
    Dana met the older woman’s sharp eyes. “Blind?” she echoed.
    Lillian returned her attention to the remains of the pie crust and began to clean it up. “Tell me what you’ve been doing for the past three years.”
    â€œIf I can have another cup of coffee, I’ll give you all the inside gossip about that society murder in Miami earlier this month.”
    â€œThe one where the main suspect was found dead with his mistress?” Lillian asked, wide-eyed.
    â€œThe very same.”
    â€œHere,” she said, handing Dana the coffee pot. “And I’ll throw in a homemade sweet roll. Start talking.”

Three
    S he got through the week, but her nerves were almost in shreds by the end of it. Confirming those miserable invitations had been an inhuman test of her temper. The men liked her husky voice and wanted to flirt. The women wanted to know why “Adrian” wasn’t extending personal invitations, and who was Dana? But the dragon was the worst of all. The very worst.
    â€œHello,” the reply came when Danareached Fayre Braunn’s residence, in a voice like silk and honey.
    â€œMiss Braunns, I’m calling for Adrian Devereaux,” Dana said in the pat speech she’d rehearsed. “He’d like you to join him at a party on the lake Saturday night about seven. He’ll pick you up at your apartment at six.”
    â€œWho are you?” Fayre asked haughtily, all the silk and honey turning bitter.
    â€œI’m Dana Meredith, Mr. Devereaux’s private secretary.”
    â€œWell, well, he hasn’t mentioned you . How long have you worked for him?”
    â€œA week, Miss Braunns. Will you attend the party?”
    â€œOh, good heavens, of course I will! How old are you, Miss Meredith?” the voice purred.
    â€œEighty-six. And a half,” she added tartly. “I’ll tell Mr. Devereaux you’ll be ready. Goodbye.” She hung up on the gasp at the other end of the line. Her chest rose in an agitated sigh. She knew she’d catch hell for that piece of effrontery, but she didn’t regret it. Not one little bit.
    She didn’t regret it until she heard him come into the den, and turned and saw the familiar black anger written all over his heavily lined face.
    â€œYou, madam,” he said levelly, “are pushing your luck over a cliff. I’ve just spent the past hour calming a very irritated tigress who seems to have the idea that I’m harboring a kept woman!”
    â€œIf you mean the dra…I mean, Miss Braunns,” she corrected quickly, “she was more interested in interrogating me than she was in accepting…”
    â€œI don’t give a damn. If she wants to know the color of your pajamas, Meredith, you tell her!” His eyes narrowed, glittering down as he stood over her at the desk. “By God, you’re an employee here, not the mistress of the house dispensing invitations!”
    She felt every muscle in her body contract at the icy attack, and it took every bit of will power she possessed to keep her composure. “Excuse me, I didn’t realize that the job involved selling my pride as well.”
    â€œIt involves whatever