Read Chain of Love for Free Online

husband mentioned it to his best friend. It’s only to be expected.”
    “Only to be expected that when I make a fool of myself the whole world has to know?” she inquired bitterly.
    “I hardly qualify as the whole world,” he said reasonably. “And I know this will come as a great shock, but the previous love affairs of
    Miss Cathy Whiteheart are not of great importance to me. I have a great many other things on my mind.”
    “I’m sorry,” she said again, and then laughed ruefully. “I always seem to be apologizing to you. Maybe it would be better if I just
    kept my mouth shut to begin with.”
    “Better, perhaps, but not half as interesting.” His hazel gaze raked her averted profile. “That was very noble of you, to let your sister
    and Charles go out tonight. I know a ride home with me was the last thing you wanted.”
    Guilt flooded Cathy’s pale cheeks. “That’s not true.”
    “Oh, then you wanted to be with me?” he inquired, a satanic lift to his brows.
    “No, of course not. I mean—” She broke off, floundering. “I wish you wouldn’t trap me into saying what I don’t
    mean,” she said irritably.
    “Then maybe we’d be better off not talking at all,” he suggested in a neutral tone.
    “Better, but not as interesting,” she shot his words back to him, and was rewarded with a laugh.
    “Check and mate.” He chuckled. They fell into a silence, but a surprisingly comfortable one. It was odd, Cathy thought, that neither of them
    seemed to feel the need to fill the silent car with idle chatter. Leaning back against the leather seat, she shut her eyes, the tension slowly draining out
    of her weary body. A moment later she was sound asleep.
    She dreamed she was back with Greg, lying in his arms. It was a dream that had haunted too many of her nights during the past three months, a nightmare
    that had no ending. Night after night she had felt the warmth and love turn swiftly into ugly, blinding hate and pain, physical pain as she flinched from
    the raging fury that confronted her.
    But this time it was different. She felt the sweetness of his breath on her face, the smell of his skin, his aftershave strong in her nostrils, and she
    knew if she opened her eyes that Greg’s warm, hazel ones would be smiling down at her. But Greg had cold blue eyes, she thought suddenly, struggling
    out of the mists of sleep, and he favored a sickly sweet cologne, not the spicy tang that assailed her. Her eyes opened to stare into the hazel gaze of her
    dream, but it belonged to Sin MacDonald.
    “Don’t you think it’s a little dark for sunglasses?” he inquired gently, reaching out and taking them from her face before she had
    a chance to gather her wits and stop him. The car was parked outside her apartment building, and he was hunkered down on the sidewalk, inside the open
    passenger door, staring at her face in great concentration. The streetlight was very bright overhead, and she heard his sudden intake of breath.
    “My God, they’re green,” he murmured, his voice low and husky. “If I’d known that I wouldn’t have let you wear those
    damned sunglasses for so long.”
    “Give them back,” she demanded, feeling naked and horribly vulnerable in the face of his piercing regard.
    “Cathy, it’s almost nine o’clock at night. You don’t need sunglasses at this hour,” he said in an almost tender voice.
    “Besides, you’re home.”
    She looked past him at the ancient building that held her apartment and three other luxury flats. “How did you know where I live?” she demanded
    suspiciously. “I don’t remember telling you.”
    Sighing in exasperation, he rose to his full height, catching her arm and pulling her out of the car at the same time. “That’s because
    I’m a Russian spy and it’s my duty to know these things,” he said wearily. “How come the paranoia?”
    “Charles must have told you.” Cathy satisfied her own curiosity, not noticing that Sin neither confirmed nor