The Legacy Read Online Free PDF Page B

“You take care up there, Richie. That molding was here before you were bom, and if you treat it right, it’ll be here after you’re gone, too.”
    Richie threw the older man a grin. “You worry too much. Morning, Miss Deverell.”
    “Morning, Richie.” She turned back to Jeb Haines. “He’s right. You do wony too much. But I can’t tell you how much I appreciate the conscientious work you’re doing.”
    He lifted his hat, smoothed his hair, and replaced the hat. “Well now, I guess I do worry. But you know, this house is one of my earliest memories. I was a young boy during the times of your grandfather, Jake, God rest his soul. And your grandmother, Arabella—my, my, but she was a high-spirited lady. Me and my friends all had crushes on her, and we weren’t the only ones, let me tell you. ”
    Caitlin grinned. “That’s what I’ve heard.”
    “Well, you heard right. And this house fairly glittered when they lived here. You can’t see the house from town, but we used to make up all sorts of reasons to come down the road and have a look. 'Course, eventually the house was closed up, but I still loved to look at it. It was like as long as it was here, everything was all right. You know what I mean?”
    “I know,” she said softly.
    “Then when we were building the church—oh, that must have been about twenty-five, twenty-six years ago now—I could see the house from the roof. What a sight that was.”
    “It must have been,” she said, wondering fondly why Jeb Haines had missed the news that New Englanders were supposed to be taciturn. She glanced £tt her watch. “Conrad Gilbert will be here in about an hour,” she said, naming the architect who was working with her on the restoration and conversion of the house. “Can you join us?”
    “Just tell me where.”
    “Probably one of the second-floor sitting rooms. I’ll come get you.” She paused. “By the way, have you seen a tall black-haired man this morning?”
    “Sure have. Said he was staying here.”
    “That’s right.”
    “I think I saw him going into the study.”
    “Thank you. ”
    As she strolled slowly toward the study, she told herself that there was no earthly reason why she should be seeking out Nlco. As a matter of fact, there were probably several reasons why she shouldn’t. But disturbingly erotic thoughts of him had kept her tossing and turning all night. She’d never seen that particular combination of danger, physical weakness, and compelling power in a man before. She wanted to see him, to be near him, now.
    Knowing very well that she should stay away, she went to him anyway.
    She opened the study door and discovered Nico bent over the big desk. When he looked up and saw her, he closed a drawer.
    A troubled line creased her brow as she gazed at Nico. With his self-assurance and inherent poise, he seemed to belong behind the desk with its commanding, rhythmic lines and its rich, exotic citron wood. And yet she couldn't shake the sense that he’d been searching for something. “What are you doing?”
    With the manner of someone completely worry-free, he straightened and eased a hip down onto the desktop. “Good morning. I expected to see you in the kitchen when I came down, but Ramona told me you usually skipped breakfast.”
    “Ramona? You’ve met Ramona?”
    “Terrifying lady.”
    “Terrifying?” Did he really mean that? Ramona had worked for her mother for twenty-four years, and never in all that time had she been frightened of her.
    "She wouldn’t let me cook. When I tried to insist, she threatened to bring me breakfast in bed tomorrow.”
    “Yes, I can see why that would terrify you.” She spoke slowly, distractedly. Though his words seemed easy, unforced, she still couldn’t help but feel something wasn’t quite right.
    He shrugged. “I gave in and let her prepare my breakfast.”
    She crossed the vast expanse of parquet floor to the front of the desk. “What are you doing in here, Nico?”
    One dark