The Cowboy's One Night Bride Read Online Free PDF Page B

Gianna snapped. “Then yes, it does unsettle me, knowing that you’re probably as old as my father.”
    Anthony laughed, throwing his head back. “Well, well. The little sparrow has some bite to her. Don’t worry, Gianna. I might be forty, but I can assure you that I am in excellent health, both mentally and physically. My finances are well in order, as is my reputation in this town. You will be very well taken care of, if I marry you.”
    Gianna snorted inwardly. She had serious doubts about his mental health, given his somewhat psychotic mood swings. However, it was the word “if” that fixated her. If I marry you, he had said, not when.
    Opening his desk drawer, Anthony retrieved a set of documents. “This is the marriage paperwork. Our signatures on this will confirm our matrimony. Half of my assets will be in your name, and the rest of it will be divided amongst Annie and any children we might have.”
    Children! Gianna almost choked. She wondered how she hadn’t thought about something so obvious. She had been worrying so much about keeping up this facade that it never occurred to her that motherhood was something quite close in her future.
    “Now,” Anthony held his pen over the paper, “I need to fill in our names, so it would very much oblige me if you could tell me your name.”
    Lifting her eyebrows, Gianna stammered. “My … my name? I thought I told it to you.”
    Anthony cocked his head. “I’m an old man, remember?” He stared at her unwaveringly. “Your name, please.”
    Taking a deep breath, Gianna looked him straight in the eye.
    “My name is Feng Ling.”
     
    ++++++++
    Anthony threw his pen down on the table, watching in satisfaction as the girl jumped. Despite his anger, he couldn’t help feeling impressed by her vigor in sticking to her little tale. He had been deliberately unsettling but somehow, she had always recovered her composure. Was she doing this for money? Was she a seasoned con woman?
    Slowly walking over to her, he stared her down. She looked so tiny and fragile in the chair.
    “I’ll give you one last chance. What is your name?”
    In spite of the slight tremor that animated her white face, the girl’s voice was steady as she spoke.
    “My name,” she repeated, “is Feng Ling.”
    His temper flaring, Anthony pulled the girl to her feet, ignoring her gasp of surprise and pain as he drew her close to him.
    “You must think me a fool,” he said with his jaw clenched. “To think I would fall for your little tale. You’re as Chinese as I am a talking frog.”
    “Let me go,” she struggled against his iron grip. “You’re hurting me.”
    Anthony barked in laughter. “Hurting you?” This girl is going to be so easy to break. Gathering her up in his arms, he sat back on the table as he laid her face down across his knee. She struggled wildly against him as he pinned her down on his lap. The hem of her dress rose up high above her upper thighs, offering a tantalizing peek of her bottom. He felt his groin awakening with interest.
    “I have given you numerous chances to own up to your deceit,” he said, satisfied as he felt her stiffen. “But fine. I’ll give you one final chance to convince me that you are who you say you are.”
    “Let me up.” Her voice was strained as she tried to turn her head towards him. “Let me up, and we can have a decent conversation about this.”
    Thwak!
    The girl squealed as he brought his hand down sharply upon her shapely derriere.
    “The time for mutual respect is over. Say your piece, or I will discipline the truth out of you.”
    When the girl spoke again, her voice was laced with anger.
    “I am Feng Ling. My mother is Italian, and my father is Chinese. I have my mother’s eyes and my father’s name.”
    She cried out, as his palm went down again.
    “My contact spoke with your mother on the telephone,” Anthony lied colorfully and he took pleasure at how she paused her struggling. Obviously, this was news to her. “Seems