Free Wildest Hearts by Jayne Ann Krentz Page A

entertain me,” Annie said earnestly as she hurried along beside him. “I really don't want to interfere with your normal evening routine.”

    He ignored her comment as he opened the door onto the roof. The huge greenhouse loomed in the shadows, its glass walls reflecting the rain-swept lights of the city.

    “What's this?” Annie asked. Curiosity abruptly replaced the incipient nervousness in her voice.

    “My private world.” Oliver paused at the control panel to turn on the lights. Then he opened the door of the greenhouse. The primal scents of moist earth and growing plants enveloped them.

    “Wow!” Annie took a deep breath as she stepped into the humid atmosphere and surveyed the lush, vibrant green foliage that surrounded her. “This is fantastic, Oliver. I've never seen such spectacular ferns. It looks like a slice of a rain forest.”

    “I thought you'd like it.” He released her and stood back to watch as she walked slowly down the nearest fern-choked aisle.

    He had been right. She looked perfect here among the lush, primitive greenery of his private world. Annie was as natural and real as the ferns were.

    “Beautiful.” Annie paused to admire a magnificent maidenhair. “Absolutely beautiful.” She moved on to examine a tray of young plants.

    “Do you like ferns?”

    “Yes, indeed,” Annie said. “I've killed dozens of them in my time. I don't have what you'd call a green thumb, but I keep trying. How long have you been interested in them?”

    “Since my college days.” Oliver hesitated. “There was a time when I planned to make a career in botany.”

    Annie looked at him from between the fronds of a pretty little holly fern, her eyes sharp with perception. “Not business?”

    “No. Not business. The last thing I ever wanted to be was a businessman.”

    Her eyes widened. “What made you change your mind and pursue your business interests as a full-time career?”

    “I'm sure Daniel has told you about my father.”

    “I know he walked out on you and your family.”

    Oliver was not certain he liked the soft sympathy in her voice. He was not accustomed to sympathy. He wasn't certain how to deal with it. “He left a mountain of debts and I had four brothers and sisters to look after.”

    “You felt you had to pay off the debts and restore your family's financial security?”

    He shrugged slightly and looked out through the glass wall of the greenhouse. “Yes.”

    “That was an enormous undertaking.” Annie searched his face. “The interesting thing is that you seem to be every bit as good at business as you are at growing ferns.”

    “They're not unrelated. Both require patience. And self-control.”

    “And you have plenty of both, don't you?” Annie jerked her fascinated gaze away from his face and looked at the nearest fern, another maidenhair.

    “Yes.” He took cold satisfaction in that simple affirmation of what was, after all, the truth. Idly Oliver traced the delicate outline of the tightly curled crosier of a lady fern. He wondered if Annie's nipples would feel like the new frond, firm and full of passionate promise.

    “Do you ever worry about being overcontrolled?” Annie asked. Her eyes were fixed on his finger as it traced the coiled crosier.

    Oliver smiled at the naive question. “There is no such thing as having too much self-control.”

    “I suppose it's that attitude that's gotten you where you are today.”

    “Yes.”

    “You've paid a price, though, haven't you?”

    Oliver met her eyes. “There's a price on everything.”

    “Uh-huh.” She sounded unconvinced.

    Oliver decided to change the subject. “About Barry Cork.”

    She jumped. “What about him?”

    “I think it would be best if you did not tell him that our marriage is one of convenience.”

    Annie went very still. “Why not?”

    “Let's just say I think he would have a difficult time keeping the information to himself.” Oliver paused, thinking. “He seemed shaken