Free The Harder They Fall by Trish Jensen Page A

changed. He hated to think that it had everything to do with her looks and figure and nothing to do with her mind and personality. He was half-afraid her appeal was purely physical.
    And if that was the case, he was going to end up hating himself. He’d only go and prove that he was just like his old man. And there wasn’t a person on earth he despised more than his old man.
    Shoving aside the unpleasant thought, he picked up the wine bottle and poured more sauvignon blanc in their goblets. Darcy smiled her thanks, and Michael returned it.
    Her smile faded slightly as she stared at his lips. If he wasn’t mistaken, that blaze in her eyes stemmed from hunger and desire. For him? Or for men in general? Had she finally reached a point in her life that any man would do?
    The thought made his gut clench. Didn’t she realize how special she was? Didn’t she know she had a gift to offer up? Even though he’d avoided virgins his entire life, he sat in awe of her at the moment. He wanted to be the man to initiate her. Badly. Very, very badly.
    As they passed under the Memorial Bridge and by the splendor of the Lincoln Memorial on their left, Michael held up his glass in a toast. Darcy followed his lead.
    “To friendship,” he said, his voice sounding unusually husky to his own ears.
    Her smile trembled just a little. “To friendship,” she said, then started to touch goblets . . . with the force of a hammer. Michael pulled back just in time to avert disaster.
    To a friendly affair, he thought as he sipped.
    Darcy set down her goblet, licking her lips. She gazed out at the various monuments, all lit with spotlights and looking regal against the purplish night sky. Then she looked back at Michael, and something in her expression made his heart lurch. “What?”
    “Tell me about your family.”
    His heart lurched again. He shrugged. “Not much to tell.”
    “Where are you from?”
    “New York City, born and raised.”
    “Do your parents still live there?”
    He was about to snap that his personal life was none of her damn business, but something stopped him. Her expression was so guileless, he knew she wasn’t trying to unearth family secrets. He wondered how she’d react to the truth. And suddenly, he wanted to find out.
    He took a sip of wine before answering her. “My mother still lives there. I have no idea where my father lives . . . or if he’s still living at all.”
    That shocked her. Her goblet hit the table with a clang, sloshing some of the wine onto her hand. Michael gently pried her fingers loose from the stem and wiped her hand with his napkin, using it as an excuse to avoid her wide, questioning eyes.
    “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Will you tell me what happened?”
    Michael did look into her eyes then. There was no censure, not even pity. Just a certain sadness. For that he felt utterly grateful to her. “My mother’s from a very prominent family. When she was eighteen, she and a friend went to the city on a shopping spree. They had lunch at Tavern on the Green. My mother fell fast and hard for the man who waited on them—”
    “Your father.”
    “My father,” he agreed, his jaw clenching. “They dated secretly for a few months, because my mother was well aware that her father would never approve. Unfortunately, my mother became pregnant—” he swallowed “—with me.”
    Darcy’s jaw dropped like a lead weight. “Unfortunately? Unfortunately? ”
    Michael waved away the choice of words. “Anyway, her boyfriend wanted her to have an abortion, but she wouldn’t hear of it.”
    “Thank God,” Darcy murmured.
    Michael liked that response. “So my mother and father worked up their courage and confessed to her father. Needless to say, he wasn’t pleased. In fact, he was furious. Instead of letting them get married quickly and quietly, he actually tried to force my mother to get an illegal abortion. He kept her prisoner in the house. But somehow she managed to escape and run to