Free BAYOU NOËL by Laura Wright Page B

dormitory
used by unmated Nurturers, but she’d declined.
    She needed to leave as she’d arrived.
    Bags in hand…her heart filled with hope for
the future.
    Call it closure.
    The thought had barely flared through her
mind when the door flew open, hitting the wall with enough force to
make the priceless paintings rattle on the wall.
    Molly shivered, but it wasn’t because of the
blast of chilled, early evening air. No, that honor belonged to the
tall, dark-haired male with rich caramel skin and eyes the color of
melted honey.
    Garrick.
    Molly felt as if she’d been kicked in the
gut.
    God. Even after five years the sight of him
still managed to steal her breath.
    He was so freaking gorgeous.
    The chiseled perfection of his features. The
ebony gloss of his hair that had been neatly trimmed. The whipcord
body that was encased in one of his outrageously expensive suits,
this one a pearl gray with a dark burgundy tie.
    He looked like he should be stepping off the
cover of GQ. Until you glanced into those honey eyes.
    Then it was easy to see the razor-sharp
intelligence and lethal danger of his cat that lurked just below
the civilized surface.
    And tonight, his cat was more obvious than
usual.
    “What the hell are you thinking?” he snarled,
his powerful presence cloaking her.
    Molly had always found it ironic that this
male was so distantly elegant, and yet carried the scent of the
wild elements.
    Tonight he smelled like an impending
thunderstorm.
    “Garrick,” she breathed, the suitcases
dropping from her suddenly numb fingers. “You’re supposed to be in
Paris.”
    He prowled forward, his expression clamped
down tight. “Your letter brought my ass home.” He halted mere
inches from her, his anger whipping through the cavernous formal
living room. “You aren’t going anywhere, Molly. So you can bring
those bags right upstairs. Better yet,” he reached down and picked
up one of her bags. “I’ll do it for you.”
    Finding her backbone, and ignoring the
flutters of excitement that raced through the pit of her stomach,
Molly snatched it back.
    Not this time.
    She wasn’t going to allow her aching
awareness of this male to blind her to the fact that he saw her as
nothing more than just another Healer.
    She lifted her chin and feigned impassive,
business-like composure. “If you read my letter, you know I’m no
longer your mother’s caregiver. If you want to bark orders at
someone, find Sylvia.”
    “I don’t know Sylvia,” he snapped. “And I
have no intention of knowing her.” He grabbed her shoulders, his
voice softening to a low rasp as his gaze swept over her face. “You
belong here, Molly.”
    She let him touch her, a deep sadness
settling in the center of her soul. “No, Garrick. I don’t. And
that’s the whole point.”
    Without warning, Garrick’s face paled to an
ashen shade. “You met someone.”
    She
pressed her lips together. If he only knew. If he only understood and cared
and wanted… “I told you
in the letter that I have a new position.”
    “One you clearly don’t need, since you
already have a position here,” he returned hotly.
    Frustrated at him, at herself, she pulled
away. “I think I’m capable of deciding where I want to work.”
    She watched the glow of his cat reacting to
her rejection, snarling, upper lip curling.
    “And caring for my mother is no longer good
enough for you?”
    “Don’t you dare imply I don’t love your
mother,” she rasped, her chin tilted to a defiant angle.
    She’d be damned if he demeaned the devotion
she’d offered over the past five years. Virginia was not just a
patient, not just a friend, and he knew it as well as she did.
    Reaching up, Garrick tugged on his tie, his
irritation clearly being replaced by genuine confusion.
    “ Why are
you so mad?” He gave a baffled shake of his head. “Why are you
acting like this? Or reacting like this? It’s not you.”
    Her heart squeezed painfully. “You don’t know
me.” She met his gaze