The Secret Life of Bryan Read Online Free PDF Page A

wanted to know how Bryan maintained the shelter, where his donations came from, details on how he worked the safe house. She could use those details in setting up her own shelters.
    She also wanted to know all about him, the past that had molded him, the future he saw for himself, and why he had such a deep hatred for money.
    But most of all, she wanted him to know her, to give her a chance to prove she wasn’t the malicious, uncaring bitch portrayed in the papers. She wanted him to know she wasn’t a Crown Princess at all, regardless of what biased truths were told. She was just a woman who wanted, needed, to help others. But telling him wouldn’t do it. She had to show him.
    It was odd, but the very thing that had made her so appealing to other men—her wealth—was the one thing that would make this man despise her, and probably before she even had a chance to prove herself to him.
    She did care, very much. But she knew the type of rich people he detested. She extorted those people regularly with her many charity functions and benefits. She understood them, how to squeeze sizeable donations out of them, but she didn’t really like them any more than Bryan did.
    On the other hand, she knew people like herself, people with money who wanted to make a difference, likable people who cared. Her brother-in-law Sebastian was that way, but she didn’t tell Bryan that. He had his own prejudices to overcome.
    Thoughts of her sister and brother-in-law naturally led a trail to other questions, and before she could consider the impropriety of it, she asked, “Have you ever married? Are you married now?”
    Incredulous, he said, “That’s—”
    “None of my business, I know. But will you tell me anyway?”
    He leaned closer, saying succinctly, “No.”
    “But…”
    He caught her chin between his thumb and fingertips. “Listen up, sweetheart. Wife or no, you’ve got no reason to fear me. I only want to help you.”
    Right. And next he’d sell her a bridge. She’d seen his reaction to her body, to her. Even now, he had a hard time keeping his visual attention elevated above her neckline. He might not want to be interested in any other way, but as a man, some things were unavoidable.
    Her silence had him sighing and dropping his hand. “It’d help if you called me Preacher, like everyone else does.”
    “No,” she answered softly. “I don’t want to be like everyone else.”
    He shook his head. “Stubborn.”
    “And I don’t want to think of you as a preacher.” She saw he was ready to walk away, so she rushed through her explanation. “I prefer to think of you as a man, an extremely appealing man. And when you stop making assumptions, maybe you’ll start to think of me as a woman.”
    For someone who made compassion his stock in trade, he sure seemed uncomfortable with it, as if he’d rather be raising hell than serving heaven.
    “Trust me, I know you’re a woman.”
    Shay shivered again, this time because of the sensual threat in his tone, the masculine appreciation.
    “But—”
    She didn’t want to hear his “buts.” Smiling, she interrupted him to say, “I like you, Bruce Bryan Kelly. Maybe, once we know each other better, you’ll start to like me a little, too.”
    She wanted to stay and talk to him more, but she took pity on the poor man. He’d had a rough day saving a prostitute who wasn’t, trying to ignore his own natural inclinations, and now trying to ignore hers as well.
    Besides, she needed to call Dawn, to check on Leigh and make sure she got settled in. She left nothing to chance these days, not since that awful debacle with the pregnant girl. She trusted Dawn implicitly, but she still checked and double-checked everything, to make certain nothing like that ever happened again.
    She also needed to tell Dawn that she’d be staying in the safe house. The thought had occurred to her that it might be easier to get to know the women, to gain their trust, and for them to give her assistance