Free A Fortune's Children's Wedding by Barbara Boswell Page A

soap bubbles.
    She found herself resorting to her own private fantasy that something—somebody!—would come along to help improve the relationship between her mother and baby brother. More specifically, a good man who could relate to both Casper and Romina because it was achingly clear that Casper needed a strong male presence in his life, especially with Danny gone. Immediately, Angelica reproved herself. A good man to set everything right? How embarrassing! Her fantasies were becoming downright retro; she’d undoubtedly watched one too many reruns of those old heartwarming family sitcoms. Next she’d be proclaiming that “Father Knows Best.”
    She cast a stealthy glance at Flynt. He’d pushed up the sleeves of his jacket and reached for a plate coated with an ominous-looking blue substance. He tentatively dipped it into the sink.
    Angelica was totally diverted by the sight of his muscular forearms, now exposed by the rolled up sleeves ofhis jacket. They were covered with a light dusting of wiry hair. Her stomach turned a wild somersault. She’d seen plenty of bare forearms—the doctors in the hospital scrubbed to their elbows—but none of them ever had impacted upon her like the sight of Flynt Corrigan’s. And his hands…
    She stared at his big hands, the long, well-shaped fingers. Not even the fact that those fingers were now holding two of the most disgustingly filthy bowls she’d ever seen detracted from the compelling masculinity of his hands. She watched him reach for the scrub brush.
    â€œDon’t bother,” she said hastily. “These dishes need to soak for hours.”
    â€œSounds like you’re experienced with this sort of thing.”
    â€œPretty much,” Angelica murmured, as an entirely new wave of sensation rolled over her. She had been so riveted by the sight of his hands she hadn’t noticed that when he’d moved to stand next to her at the sink, their hips had made contact. And remained touching as they stood together.
    Her head seemed to be spinning. Just being near him, their bodies touching in exciting yet comfortable familiarity was a sensual experience that she wanted to prolong, to savor. She stood, dazed by these strange new feelings, watching Flynt helpfully finish putting the dishes into the sink to soak.
    â€œThank you,” she said softly, suddenly feeling overwhelmingly shy.
    Flynt nodded and pulled off three squares from the roll of paper towels. Angelica couldn’t help but count;their mother had drilled them into the one-square rule since toddlerhood.
    â€œWould you say you owed me a favor?” He scrunched the paper towel into a ball and slamdunked it into the trash can.
    Angelica knew she should be suspicious. Instead, her heart pounded with nervous anticipation. “That depends.” She inhaled sharply. “What does this favor involve?”
    â€œYour father, Brandon Fortune.”

Chapter 4
    D isappointment rolled through Angelica in waves. Flynt was standing close to her, their bodies touching; she was aware of his masculinity in a way that enticed her instead of intimidating her.
    But Flynt didn’t appear to notice, or at least, he didn’t intend to talk about it. The question he’d asked about her owing him a favor contained no sexual innuendo whatsoever. Damn! exclaimed a naughty, previously unheard-from little voice in her head. Angelica firmly stifled it.
    Flynt wanted to talk about her father Brandon Fortune. Mortification swiftly replaced disappointment. She could only be grateful that he didn’t know how wildly she had misinterpreted his request.
    â€œYou said your mom told the other men in her life that they were fathers, but they chose to ignore that fact—and their kids.” Flynt stated his premise.
    Angelica could picture him using a similar technique with suspects during his FBI days. She purposefully moved away from the sink. Away from Flynt. She stood