Read Taming Natasha for Free Online

indeed. She jammed her fork into the steaming seafood pasta. That kind of man expected payment in full for a meal. The candlelight and wine type, she thought with a sneer. Soft voice, patient eyes, clever hands. And no heart.
    Just like Anthony. Impatient, she set the dish aside and picked up the glass that was already dripping with moisture. But she was wiser now than she had been at eighteen. Much wiser. Much stronger. She was no longer a woman who could be lured by charm and smooth words. Not that this man was smooth, she remembered with a quick smile. He— Lord, she didn’t even know his name and she already detested him—he was a little clumsy, a little awkward. That was a charm of its own.
    But he was, she thought, very much like Anthony. Tall and blond with those oh, so American good looks. Looks that concealed a lack of morals and a carelessly deceitful heart.
    What Anthony had cost her could never be tallied. Since that time, Natasha had made very, very certain no man would ever cost her so dearly again.
    But she had survived. She lifted her glass in a self-toast. Not only had she survived, but except for times when memories crowded in on her, she was happy. She loved the shop, and the chance it gave her to be around children and make them happy. In her three years there she had watched them grow. She had a wonderful, funny friend in Annie, books that stayed in the black and a home that suited her.
    She heard a thump over her head and smiled. The Jorgensons were getting ready for the evening meal. She imagined Don was fussing around Marilyn, who was carrying their first child. Natasha liked knowing they were there, just above her, happy, in love and full of hope.
    That was family to her, what she had had in her youth, what she had expected as an adult. She could still see Papa fretting over Mama when she neared her time. Every time, Natasha remembered, thinking of her three younger siblings. How he had wept with happiness when his wife and babies were safe and well. He adored his Nadia. Even now Natasha knew he still brought flowers home to the little house in Brooklyn. When he came home after a day’s work, he kissed his wife, not with an absent peck on the cheek, but robustly, joyfully. A man wildly in love after almost thirty years.
    It was her father who had kept her from shoveling all men into the pit Anthony had dug for her. Seeing her father and mother together had kept that small, secret hope alight that someday she would find someone who would love her as much and as honestly.
    Someday, she thought with a shrug. But for now she had her own business, her own home and her own life. No man, no matter how beautiful his hands or how clear his eyes, was going to rock her boat. Secretly she hoped her newest customer’s wife gave him nothing but grief.
    Â 
    â€œOne more story. Please, Daddy.” Freddie, her eyes heavy, her face shiny from her bath, used her most persuasive smile. She was nestled against Spence in her big, white canopy bed.
    â€œYou’re already asleep.”
    â€œNo, I’m not.” She peeked up at him, fighting to keep her eyes open. It had been the very best day of her life, and she didn’t want it to end. “Did I tell you that JoBeth’s cat had kittens? Six of them.”
    â€œTwice.” Spence flicked a finger down her nose. He knew a hint when he heard one, and fell back on the parent’s standard. “We’ll see.”
    Sleepy, Freddie smiled. She knew from his tone that her father was already weakening. “Mrs. Patterson’s real nice. She’s going to let us have Show and Tell every Friday.”
    â€œSo you said.” And he’d been worried, Spence thought. “I get the feeling you like school.”
    â€œIt’s neat.” She yawned hugely. “Did you fill out all the forms?”
    â€œThey’ll be ready for you to take in tomorrow.” All five hundred of them, he thought with a sigh.