Free Sweet Talkin' Scoundrel by Tess Oliver Page B

the life of me puzzle out why my job at Wildthorne had him in such a twist. Before I could form a decent, logical question, he headed off toward his plane. I didn’t follow immediately, instead I watched his long legs carry him across the runway. There was less confidence and a hard edged anger in his broad shoulders. It seemed there was a lot of past history in this place, and somehow, I’d landed right in the middle of it.

Chapter 8
    Kinley
    I’d set Becky a task of finishing up a painting she’d begun while I carried our snack plates down to the kitchen. My gaze brushed over the museum quality art lining the hallway walls. On my first day in the manor, I’d noticed that unlike most homes there were no family pictures hanging on walls or sitting on mantles. But the stately, conservative decor just wouldn’t have worked with a bunch creatively framed casual pictures of family beach trips or school portraits. As beautiful as the manor was inside and out, it had none of the folksy, relaxed feel of a true family home. No matter where my family lived, in the Sahara Desert under a canvas tarp or in a grass hut on some faraway river, my mom managed to make it cozy. And we always had family pictures taped and pinned to the walls.
    Katherine Underwood’s harsh, impatient voice overflowed into the corridor as I neared the entrance to the kitchen. “At least try to make an effort to be congenial. Maybe if you pried yourself away from those damn ship models once in awhile to engage in friendly conversation, this might work.”
    “Stop directing my life, Mother,” Marcus barked. His heavy footsteps were heading my direction.
    I froze in the hallway, wondering if I should turn back. But the old wood floor in the corridor creaked loudly, announcing my presence. I took a deep breath and pretended as if I had just reached the kitchen. Marcus nearly plowed into me in his haste to get away from his mother’s lecture.
    His mouth opened but no words came out. I’d taken him by surprise. Since he always had trouble finding his tongue, even when I hadn’t just popped up in front of him, he had an even harder time speaking. I filled in the awkward moment.
    “Afternoon, Marcus. How is the HMS Victory coming along? Is she nearly ready for her first voyage?”
    My moment of rambling gave him time to collect himself and his thoughts. He favored me with a rare, however faint, smile. “Considering she has no masts or ribs yet, no. I think we’ll have to delay her first voyage.” He nodded. “If you’ll excuse me, Kinley.”
    “Of course.” I stepped aside, even though there was plenty of room for him to pass. But I’d discovered Marcus truly hated any type of physical contact, even if it was just his shirt brushing my arm. I could only imagine what his reaction might have been if he’d actually run physically into me on his way around the corner.
    I continued on into the kitchen. Katherine looked up from a day planner she had open on the menu planning desk. “I heard the hallway creak and was beginning to think we had ghosts. Why were you lurking?” Her tone wasn’t accusatory, but it wasn’t exactly an airy, nonchalant tone either.
    She closed the planner and peered at me through reading glasses. “Were you having a conversation with Marcus?” There was an edge of hopefulness in her voice. That, coupled with what I’d caught of the conversation, in my moment of unintended eavesdropping, made it seem as if Katherine was worried about her son’s lack of a social life. She was right to be concerned.
    I carried the plates to the sink. “Yes, I asked Marcus about his model.” I started to rinse the dishes.
    “Leave those for Janice. Yes, Marcus does love those models.” She took off her glasses. “Kinley, I realize I haven’t covered enough of our safety precautions and protocols. After all, we are rather cut off from the world out here.” She walked to a tall cupboard that was painted with the same antique white as the