Read Her Sister's Secret (Mills & Boon Vintage Superromance) for Free Online

be more. Now what can I do for you?”
    Whitney focused on Rhys. “You work here?” she asked, stupid as the question was.
    Rhys gave an easy hearty laugh. When the even white smile faded, he lifted his arms and laced his fingers behind his head, his biceps flexing with the movement.
    “Yes. What did you think? That I was one of the bikers here yesterday?”
    Heat rushed to her cheeks.
    When she didn’t respond right away, a slow grin spread across his face. He bent forward, pulled a slim brown cigarette from his shirt pocket, tamped it against the desk, but didn’t light it. He leaned back in the chair again and waved a tanned hand in her direction.
    “It’s my shop, so unless another customer comes in, my time is yours.”
    Whoa . She felt a tiny bit like Alice tumbling into the rabbit hole and finding everything skewed. She was here under false pretenses, and Gannon was ready and willing to help her. He was a drug addict who looked nothing like one—and on top of that, he was the owner of the store.
    He seemed intelligent and articulate. Moreover, he wasn’t the twenty-year-old punk she’d expected. He had fine character lines that cut through dimpled cheeks and crinkled around penetrating blue eyes—and she couldn’t stop thinking he’d make a fantastic photographic subject.
    The whole scenario was bizarre.
    But if Morgan had told the truth, it was all a ruse. He was a con artist. A shape shifter. A man who could seduce wallpaper if he wanted.
    Whitney stared out the window in the suddenly airless room, reminding herself that a shop, even a respectable shop, could easily be a front for a dealer.
    The thought reviled her. How many innocent kids had ruined their lives so he could own this place? How many had he used? How many had overdosed and died like Morgan?
    She felt as though her lungs had collapsed and she couldn’t draw a full breath. It was as though the oxygen had somehow been sucked from the room.
    She fumbled in her backpack until she found a pen and notebook, then stared at the back of the bronze-framed photograph.
    She had to ask.

 
     
     
     
     
     
    CHAPTER FOUR
     
     
    RHYS STARED across his desk into Whitney Sheffield’s translucent blue eyes—the most determined eyes he’d ever seen.
    And he was as fascinated today as yesterday.
    He recalled her touch, tentative, uneasy. But he liked that. Somehow it made her more real, less the high-society lady. The ice princess.
    What he didn’t like was the physical reaction he’d had to her yesterday. He could chalk it up to the fact that he’d sworn off women for the past six months, but it was more than that. He’d met his share of desirable women in the past and had no trouble with self-control.
    Not this time. The hormones he’d successfully ignored for months were raging like an adolescent’s.
    He studied her face. Yeah, right now, Ms. Whitney Sheffield’s full pink lips and arresting smile sent his primitive instincts into overdrive. He searched for flaws. Something to remind him she was off limits in every  possible way.
    He wasn’t too crazy about the way she pulled her long blond hair into that barrette in back. Her features were almost too fine, too perfect. And her smooth skin and the thick dark lashes that rimmed those clear blue eyes were…well…they just were.
    Flaws? Hell, he couldn’t find one.
    In addition, her statements about herself and her career held no guile or self-importance. The lady was convincing, and so was that Hassleblad. That caliber of camera wasn’t used for snapshots in a family album.
    It’d surprised him when she’d asked him for an interview. He grinned at the thought. But why not? It might even be fun—if he was careful. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually had fun with a woman.
    “Must be someone special in that picture,” Whitney said, waggling her pen toward it.
    He glanced at the photo on his desk. “The love of my life—aside from motorcycles—which, I believe, is