Trading Secrets Read Online Free PDF Page A

open window and filled
     her lungs with deep, steadying breaths.
    "Oh, Christ, Sabrina. I'm sorry." The words were flat, without
     any inflection.
    It took Sabrina a moment to find her own voice. "Do you mind
     telling me why?" she asked. Her eyes remained focused unseeingly
     on the lights of the cruise ship.
    "It's a long story. It's got nothing to do with you."
    "I think that's debatable." Her whole body felt used and he had
     the nerve to tell her his actions had nothing to do with her? A
     slow rage finally began to burn away some of the numbness she had
     been feeling since she had arisen from the bed.
    "Look, let's just write it off to one too many whiskeys, okay?"
    "Too much alcohol?" she replied sharply, aware that he was
     sitting up slowly. She didn't turn around. "I'm expected to excuse
     near rape because you've had too much to drink?"
    "Sabrina," he muttered, "it's complicated. I can't even explain
     it all myself tonight. It's late, I've had too much to drink, and
     I—"
    "And let's not forget your hard day," she reminded him too
     sweetly.
    "They're all hard these days," he grunted.
    She drew another deep breath. "Just tell me one thing. I got the
     feeling you hated me. But we only met this evening. Were you
     confusing me with someone else? Were you so damn drunk you thought
     I was another woman?"
    "Hell, no. It was nothing like that." He was on his feet now. She
     could feel him coming up behind her, although he made no sound on
     the cool slate floor.
    Sabrina still didn't turn. She didn't want to face him. "If you
     weren't confusing me with someone else, then why?" she demanded
     tightly.
    His hands came up to close around her upper arms and he tugged
     her gently back against him. "Sabrina, I'm sorry. I guess I had
     some notion of doing the guy back in Dallas a favor or something.
     Shit, I don't know how to explain it. I've had too much to drink!"
    "And you've had a tough day! What guy back in Dallas?"
    "Forget it. Things got a little out of hand. I understand you're
     a bit upset right now, but—"
    "Your perception is definitely improving with every second! Who
     the hell do you think you are?"
    He turned her gently to face him, his eyes dark and brooding as
     he gazed down into her stormy features. "I'm sorry. That's all I
     can say. Come back to bed with me and I'll make you forget what
     just happened."
    "You must be out of your mind! Get out of here. Do you hear me?
     Get out of here before I call the house detective or whatever they
     use here in Mexico!"
    "Easy," he soothed, moving his thumbs in gentling motions on her
     jaw. "Take it easy, honey. This time will be different. I'll make
     it good for you; I promise. I'll—"
    "You're not only drunk, you're crazy. And to think you're trying
     to justify your actions by telling me you've had one too many
     whiskeys."
    "It's more complicated than that, but I don't think I can explain
     it very clearly tonight," he muttered. "Sabrina, will you please
     calm down? You're getting hysterical."
    "I'm getting goddamned furious!"
    "This time we'll do things right," he promised, trying to pull
     her back into his arms.
    "You can say that again! This time I'm going to throw you out
     before you have a chance to play any more weird games!"
    "Sabrina!"
    But she had already broken free of his grasp and was rushing
     across the room to the side of the bed on which he'd lain.
     Scooping up the leather sheath that he'd placed on the floor, she
     fumbled with the handle of the knife and then whipped out the
     sleek blade. Moonlight gleamed on the sharp, savage length of it.
     "I said get out of here, Matt. Get dressed and get out. Right
     now."
    "Put down the knife, Sabrina." This time there was soft command
     in his tone. Matt's voice had taken on the same cold edge as the
     steel she was holding.
    "I'm not putting it down until you leave."
    "Damn it, stop acting hysterical and give me that knife."
     Imperiously he held out his hand as he walked deliberately