Free Relentless by Cherry Adair

teachers and a gaggle of schoolkids clattered past them, and they stepped aside to let the herd pass. “No,” he told her succinctly when they resumed their descent.
    She was worried about him standing for hours, but the only way she could get him to sit down had been to insist she was hungry so they could go upstairs to the cafeteria.
    They unlocked the door and turned on the lights. “Why is your injury such a big secret?”
    “It’s not a secret. It’s none of your business.”
    “Apparently,” she said, unoffended. Her father was grumpy a lot of the time because he was distracted, or hungry, or too hot. “Too personal?”
    Thorne took a fresh pair of cotton gloves from the box by the door. “Is anything too personal in your book?” he asked, pulling on a glove while giving her a less than friendly look.
    He had nice hands. Big and strong-looking. The bright overhead lights shone on several scars across the back of his right hand before he pulled on the other glove. Part of the same accident?
    “How did your brother die?”
    “Jesus—”
    “I just wondered if your injury and your brother’s death were linked, that’s all.”
    A muscle jumped in his jaw, and his eyes looked black.“Garrett was swept overboard m—the family yacht. There was a squall, he… died.”
    “That’s terrible.” Her heart ached for him. What a tragedy. She stopped what she was doing to look at him. He continued working as if she weren’t there.
    “We were alone on the Breeze .”
    “God. That’s even worse. You must’ve fought so hard to save him.”
    “I did. Other people didn’t see it that way. He was the heir, and I was glad for it. He liked everything that entailed. It worked out well for everyone.”
    “And then he died, and now you’re the heir.” Neither Thorne nor his father appeared to be very happy about it.
    “I have absolutely no interest in being a wealthy dilettante. I have a job. I pay my own freight. If you’re going to chitchat and waste my time, you can go back to the cafeteria and read a guidebook while I work.”
    Isis turned an imaginary key against her lips. “Just Thorne” was not amused. He went straight back to the drawer of artifacts he’d been touching before they left for lunch and before she’d started asking questions.
    She too pulled on a pair of gloves. Being an only child, she couldn’t fathom what it was like to lose a sibling. Hideous, she imagined. “How much older was Garrett?”
    He was quiet for so long, Isis thought he wasn’t going to answer. “If I tell you will you shut the hell up?”
    “How do you get to know someone if you don’t ask questions?”
    “ One ruddy question. Choose wisely—it’ll be the only one you get.”
    “How old was he?”
    “Twenty-one when he died. And bonus answer? He was seven minutes older than I.”
    “Dear God. You were twins.” The distance between Thorne and his parents now became a little clearer to her. They blamed Thorne for his brother’s death.
    “Are you going to dog my footsteps for the rest of the day?” he demanded with a scowl as he rested his hand briefly on each item in a wide drawer, multitasking by giving her an irritable look as he did his work.
    The question had been rhetorical, and since she could almost smell brimstone in the room, she backed off. “I like watching you work,” she told him easily. She liked looking at him. His shirt still looked crisp and fresh; he looked like a man on a mission, with those sleeves rolled up his muscular forearms. He had a nice straight nose, almost Roman, and his ears lay flat and neat against his head. Very sexy.
    The planes of his face were hard, but she liked the soft look of his military-short haircut, and the no-nonsense, almost fluid way he moved. Even though he was a large man, and even with the limp, his movements were almost graceful. He was aware of the space he took up and filled it to capacity. Isis found it very sexy. He intrigued her.
    Wanting to reach out