Read Johnson Family 1: Unforgettable for Free Online Page A

that didn’t involve a silly socialite falling for him.
    “I’m not holding a grudge. I don’t want to be friends with you.”
    He turned away. “This was obviously a waste of time,” he muttered.
    “Obviously.” She only had to maintain this arctic front a little longer so she could get him out of there, and then she could relax.
    He swung around. “I came to talk, to see if we could build a bridge or something.” Her silence fueled his anger. “For the record, I wanted to be friends, nothing more. I have plenty of women in my life.”
    The words had been thrust at her with dagger-like force, making it clear he didn’t want her , no matter what she thought. Somehow she managed not to flinch.
    “Good for you. Then why are you here?” she shot back.
    “I’m beginning to wonder the same thing.”
    Right then, the door swung open and Katie bounded in, her long braids pulled back into a ponytail. Her mouth fell open and she looked up at them in surprise.
    “Oops! Sorry. I didn’t know you were in a meeting. Cynthia wasn’t at her desk.”
    Ivy’s kept her voice calm even though her pulse started to race. “Go back down the hall to the visitor’s office. I’ll be there as soon as I wrap this up.”
    Quietly, Katie obeyed and left, shutting the door behind her.
    “She looks just like you,” Lucas said. He paused. He looked at her strangely, studying her face again.
    “I have a million things to do. I need you to leave,” Ivy said.
    His head jerked back at her abrupt dismissal. “Damn, Ivy, I just—” He shook his head. “You know what, forget it. Lucas Baylor doesn’t stay where he’s not wanted. Take care of yourself.”
    He stormed out, and after he left, Ivy closed her eyes and sagged against the desk. That was close.

Chapter Six
    Lucas marched down the hall, fury and the stirring of blood in his loins making his stride heavy.
    What a waste of time and how embarrassing. So what they couldn’t be friends?
    He had plenty of friends, just like she did. So what if his eyes had dropped to the sway of her hips when she walked ahead of him? He barely even noticed that her body was rounder, fuller, more womanly.
    He wanted to wrench the mask of stoicism from her lovely face. The woman he remembered had been passionate, not cool and detached. Was the old Ivy completely gone? The wild child—more child than wild—with her contradictory innocence and adventurous spirit, determined to live life to the fullest while shunning the spotlight that had dogged her for years.
    He frowned.
    And what had that look been about at the end? It wasn’t just surprise. It was worry. No. Concern? No. Alarm . Why would Ivy be alarmed in his presence?
    It was around lunchtime and the offices on either side of the hallway were empty. A movement in one of them caught his eye. Ivy’s daughter was in there, seated in a guest chair and writing in a composition notebook on her lap.
    Before he had time to contemplate his actions, he entered the office. She was part of Ivy, and that drew him out of curiosity, if nothing else.
    “Hey there.”
    She quickly covered the pages of the book protectively with her arm.
    “What do you have there?” he asked.
    “Nothing.” Her glasses gave her a studious, serious appearance.
    “Looked like you might be working on a story,” he said.
    She shrugged and kept her arm over the book.
    He almost smiled. He knew what it was like to want to protect your words before allowing anyone to see them and criticize. “You don’t want me to see?”
    She shrugged again. “I don’t know if I’m any good,” she mumbled.
    “Any good at what?”
    “Writing.” Behind the black-framed glasses, she had pretty eyes, with long, curled lashes. “Writing is my hobby, and I love it. My mom says I’m like my dad in that way.”
    Ivy’s husband had been fond of writing. That was a surprise. “So your dad liked to write too, huh?”
    The little girl nodded. “Mommy said his words were like magic.”
    A