The Gift-Wrapped Groom Read Online Free PDF Page A

you?”
    â€œThirty-three.”
    â€œYou’ve never been married?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œHad children?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œHave you ever raised your hand in anger against another human being?”
    â€œYes.”
    Her head came up again. This time not only interest but alarm swam in those silver-green eyes. “Who?”
    â€œA petty official.”
    â€œWhat did you do to him?”
    â€œI broke his hand.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œHe had used it to push an old woman who was in his way.”
    Curiosity replaced alarm. For the first time since she had walked into the room, her eyes met his directly. The heat increased in Nicholas’s hands.
    â€œDid you know this woman?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œThe petty official?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œThen why did you do it?”
    â€œIf you have to ask why, then I can give you no answer you would understand.”
    A flash of irritation swept through her eyes at his mild rebuke. He could see her wrestling with wanting to quickly change the subject and wanting to get further details. Her curiosity for the details won out. So, he’d learned another thing about this Noel Winsome.
    â€œWhat happened after you broke his hand?”
    â€œI ran.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œIn Soviet Russia, running was the only safe thing to do when one was ten.”
    â€œTen? How could you break a man’s hand when you were only ten?”
    â€œI was a big ten.”
    Her look measured his shoulders, almost unconsciously, seeming to test the truth of this statement. He felt the muscles tense and warm along his collarbone, his upper arms—everywhere those cool eyes touched.
    Then, for the space of a heartbeat, something not nearly so cool flickered in the depths of her eyes. Nicholas felt that heat in his hands again. That very curious heat.
    Her gaze returned to his face, once again avoiding his eyes.
    â€œWhat happened after you ran?”
    â€œI was visiting distant relatives in Kazakhstan. They sent me back home for protection.”
    â€œWhat happened to the woman and the petty official?”
    â€œI do not know.”
    This answer clearly disappointed her. She had wanted a more satisfactory ending to the story. Probably a Hollywood one, he suspected, where everyone would shoot everyone else, leaving rivers of red running in the white snow.
    â€œHave you ever struck anyone else?”
    â€œNo.”
    She studied his face dispassionately a moment more before returning her attention to the sheet of paper in front of her. He could see she was keeping peripheral tabs on her grandfather, who was pacing a few feet away. Her pen once again moved nonchalantly over the paper. Nicholas wondered if this was a nervous thing she did—this scribbling. She did not look nervous.
    â€œYou understand, Dr. Baranov, that according to my grandfather’s stipulations, we are to be married within twenty-four hours of being introduced?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œAnd we are to live together as husband and wife in my Midwater home?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œBut you will not have community property rights to either my home or business. You will be required to sign a prenuptial agreement. If our marriage ends in divorce, I keep my home and business. Is that understood?”
    Nicholas had thought he would not mind any questions she might ask. However, he was finding he did mind the implication in these questions very much.
    â€œYour grandfather has explained this, Miss Winsome. Fully. I do not wish to take your home or business from you.”
    She looked up, seemed to read in his eyes what had not come through in his voice, and repositioned herself as though suddenly uncomfortable in her chair. Then she quickly looked down again and resumed her scribbling. Once again, the tone of her voice told him his answers to the next questions did not really interest her.
    â€œWestern Montana can have very harsh winters, Dr.