Free A Light For My Love by Alexis Harrington Page B

fear and anger.
    His shrug was casual, but his green eyes
bored into her. "I suppose it could seem that way—to a person with
something to hide."
    Panic began inching its way into China's
heart, but she tried to show only annoyance. "I can't imagine what
you mean." She turned to walk away and would have left the kitchen
to escape him and his questions, but the next thing he said stopped
her dead in the doorway.
    "You might as well give up the game,
China."
    She heard the chair legs slide over the
flooring as he pushed himself to his feet. He crossed the room and
stood right behind her, nearly touching, but not. She sensed him
there—she could feel the heat of his body, almost like an
electrical charge. She took a step forward to put some distance
between them.
    "I saw you with him. And I know everything."
Oh, God, China thought, lacing her cold hands tightly in front of
her. She'd tried so hard to be careful, to stay away from the
carriage house. But in the last few days that had been impossible.
She turned and faced him.
    "I guess you've developed a taste for the
working class," Jake said, irony in his voice. He reached out to
tweak a lock of her loose hair. "I imagine there are people who'd
be interested in hearing all about what keeps you so busy out
there." He tipped his head in the direction of the carriage house
and gave her a shrewd look. "And I'll be happy to tell anyone
who'll listen, starting with Aunt Gert, if you don't let me move to
a room on the second floor."
    China could hardly believe what she was
hearing. She tried to think of some way to throw him off, but the
only defense she could formulate lay in denial and feigned
ignorance. "I repeat," she said firmly, "I don't know what you're
talking about. But whatever it is, I guess I shouldn't be surprised
that you'd stoop to blackmail to get your way."
    Jake leaned a little doser. She should no
longer find him attractive, not after all the problems he had
created, especially given the horrible things he was saying. How
could she even notice his lean jawline or the curve of his mouth,
turned down in a humorless smile? For the briefest instant, he
gazed back at her with an odd yearning expression that caught at
her heart. Then a frown darkened his face, and he crossed his arms
over his chest as he considered her.
    "My using blackmail isn't any worse than a
man who's low enough to risk a lady's reputation by meeting her for
a tryst in a stable."
    "What!" she choked, inflamed by his
outrageous insinuation.
    "But I guess he's done me a favor. He's made
it possible for me to move out of that closet you gave me to sleep
in."
    "Just what are you implying?" China demanded.
She knew exactly what he meant. There was an angry, ominous glint
in his eyes that should have frightened her. Instead, it nipped at
her own temper.
    "Shall we go upstairs? I'd like to choose my
room and get moved in before dinner."
    Jake strode from the kitchen and down the
hall to the back stairs, taking the steps two at a time. It was all
China could do to keep up, encumbered by her full skirts on the
narrow, circular staircase.
    "Jake! Stop it!" she commanded breathlessly,
but he ignored her and charged ahead. Her eyes were fixed on the
broad stretch of his shoulders, which the white shirt only
accentuated.
    "Let's see." He flung open the door to the
guest room where he'd often spent the night years earlier. "I
remember this room—"
    The gaslight from the hall threw a shaft of
light across the bare floor and up the empty wall. Except for a
small table near the closet, the dark, shuttered room held no
furniture. Only the lace curtains still hung at the windows.
    "Hmm, what did you do? Burn everything after
I left?" he asked with vague amusement.
    "You have no right—" she snapped, but he
moved on to the next door as though she hadn't spoken.
    Down the hall he went, opening another room
and finding it the same as the first empty of furniture, rugs, and
pictures. China hurried after him, pulling on