Harlequin Romance March 2021 Box Set Cara Colter (the mitten read aloud TXT) 📖

couldn’t force my mother to come back, he told us we were dead to him. We haven’t seen him since.’

‘So… Frances, your mother and you were a family of sorts?’

They had been, and he didn’t have enough family to be blasé about losing any of their number.

He refused to allow his attention to fix on her lips.

‘She paid my college tuition fees. Without the benefit of that education I’d be pulling beers in some bar or lugging bricks around a building site. And, while there’s absolutely nothing wrong with either of those things, she gave me the opportunity to find my place in the world. That education opened doors that had been previously shut to me.’

Her brow cleared. ‘That’s what you meant when you said she’d given you everything you needed while she was alive?’

Exactly.

‘I’m glad.’ But she didn’t smile. She stared across the room, her brow once again furrowed.

Owen… Frances’s voice sounded a warning through his mind.

He ground his teeth together. ‘What’s wrong? You don’t look pleased?’

Her gaze swung back to his. ‘You and your mother looked after Frances?’

‘We all looked after each other.’

She made a noise of frustration, lifting her hands. ‘So why didn’t she leave her money—her estate—to the two of you, instead of me and my mother?’

‘We didn’t want her money!’ His throat burned. ‘That’s not what our relationship was based on.’ He leaned towards her. ‘But, speaking of despicable…’ He was incapable of keeping the edge from his voice.

Their gazes clashed and she raised an eyebrow in exactly the same way Frances used to do, and for a moment he couldn’t speak.

‘What have I done that’s despicable?’ she asked. ‘Besides being late for this morning’s meeting and choosing the wrong hotel?’

Don’t raise your voice. Don’t yell. Don’t roar at her that Frances deserved better.

‘You said you wanted revenge on Frances.’

Her jaw dropped. ‘I said no such thing!’

She wanted to deny it? He’d been there!

‘Just after Mr Dunkley told you about the inheritance.’ He dragged in a breath. ‘You were smiling, and I asked you if you were already spending the money.’

She stared back, and then her face cleared. ‘I wasn’t referring to my grandmother when I said I wanted revenge.’

‘Who were you referring to?’

‘None of your business.’

Bizarrely, he had to fight a smile.

‘Until a couple of weeks ago I didn’t even know my grandmother existed. Why on earth would I want revenge on her?’ She slumped back. ‘She’s given me all this money. What I don’t understand is why she never tried to contact me when she was alive.’

He shot to his feet. ‘Can we just cut that pretence? I know the truth.’

She stared at him and rose too. Something had changed in the depths of her eyes—the blue was neither so brilliant now, nor so clear.

‘Would you care to explain that? Are you saying Frances did try to contact me?’

He’d just told her how close he and Frances had been. Did she honestly think him ignorant of the letters? Hell, he’d posted an awful lot of them himself.

He strode across to the antique dresser on the far wall and pulled open the top drawer, gesturing for Callie to come and take a look. The moment she drew near, the scent of spring flowers filled his senses. He backed up a step. Callie might look pretty, and she might smell pretty, but her heart was as black as pitch.

He kept his face trained on hers as she drew out the letters—hundreds of them—some of them addressed to Callie and others to her mother. She took them back to the sofa and stared at them. With her lower lip caught between her teeth, she sorted through them, checking the dates on the postmarks and collating them into two piles—hers and Donna’s.

Eventually she glanced up at him, her eyes suspiciously bright. ‘She wrote to me…’

He didn’t bother dignifying that with an answer.

Her lips twisted. ‘Oh, that’s right. You’re being a typical discerning male. I suppose it’s logical to think that because they were returned I was the one who returned them.’

He blinked, felt something scratching through his chest. Was it possible he’d read her wrong? She didn’t look guilty. Unlike Fiona when he’d caught her out in her lies. Of course that could simply mean she was a better actress than Fiona.

Or it could mean you have this wrong.

Facts. He needed to focus on facts.

She drew a pen and a scrap of paper from her handbag, scrawled something on it and then held it out to him. Forcing his frozen legs to move, he took it. She’d written Return to Sender. Then she handed him one of the letters addressed to her.

He studied the handwriting. With a mouth that had gone as dry as the Arizona desert, he reached for one of the letters addressed to Donna. The instruction on both letters was written in the same hand, but it was different from the sample that Callie had written on the scrap of paper.

He lowered himself back down to the sofa. ‘Your mother returned all of these?’

He didn’t know why he asked the question when the evidence in front of him provided the answer.

‘So it would seem.’

‘So when you said you weren’t aware of your grandmother’s existence…’

‘I wasn’t lying.’

He rubbed the back of his neck. ‘I didn’t believe you.’

She shrugged, gesturing at the letters. ‘I can see why you came to the conclusion you did.’

They were both quiet for several long moments. Eventually she glanced up. ‘You thought that of me—’ she pointed to the letters ‘—and yet you still came to my rescue at the hotel today. Why?’

He hesitated, reluctant to tell her the truth, but suspecting he owed it to her. ‘I promised Frances I would provide you with every assistance if you should ever come to New York.’

‘And, despite how you felt about me, you were determined to carry out her wishes.’ She tapped a finger against her lips. ‘Which turned out lucky for me.’

‘Callie, I’m sorry. I—’

She waved his apology away. ‘It doesn’t