Read The Wrong Sister for Free Online Page B

I’ll grab some wine.”  
    He escaped to the huge garage where his wine cellar was built into the underground side wall. He laid his forehead against the cool rock, closed his eyes, and tried to regain his shattered equilibrium. This was hopeless. He was hopeless. She was going to break down all his defenses.  
    It had been bad enough waiting for Jan to slip slowly away. He’d thought the torment of those last few weeks unbearable. He’d been angry beyond belief that his darling wife was being stolen from him. But compared to this?  
    He rolled his head wretchedly, eyes still closed. Compared to this, it had been bearable after all. There had been an end in sight—albeit a shattering end to life as he’d known it.
    But with Fiona? There was not even a beginning in sight. And no chance of one, the way things stood. It was too soon. She was Jan’s sister. She worked on the other side of the world. She’d showed no interest in him anyway, and never would, and that was just as well. Even if she wanted him, he might lose her the same way he’d lost Jan.
    He piled up the reasons in his feverish brain.
    And added one hopeful disturbing memory—their strange interaction right after she’d cut her finger and he’d grabbed for her.
    She’d been hurt. He’d comforted her. There was no more to it than that, surely? But she’d not objected to him taking charge. And she’d suddenly pressed herself against him for those few intoxicating seconds.  
    It would be all he had to enjoy, and endlessly re-run in his brain, through the long nights to follow.
    He was thankful there’d be plenty of other company tonight. Being confined in the house alone with Fiona would be absolute hell. Especially now she looked so different, so touchable, so casually attractive , so unlike Jan.  
    She might appear to be a new woman, but all the underlying reasons why he couldn’t have her remained exactly the same.
    With a vicious curse, he snapped on the wine cellar’s light and started to run a hand along the bottles as he considered the labels.

    An hour later he stood waiting in the spacious marble-tiled entrance foyer as Fiona descended the half-flight of stairs from the top bedroom level of the house. She trod with care, holding Nicky in her arms. He’d got together all the baby paraphernalia they’d need.  
    Fiona’s new feathery hairstyle still shocked him. And instead of her usual conservative clothes she wore lime-green trousers that outlined her body in sensuous supple folds. He watched with gnawing hunger as the fabric tightened and relaxed across her thighs and groin with each slow step.  
    She bent to set Nicky in the stroller, revealing a slippery bright top, scooped low over her breasts. As she dipped, his eyes followed the creamy curves barely contained in black lace. His brain gave a kettledrum kick of wretchedness. She looked so desirable he was sure all the men at the barbecue would be eyeing her, wanting her, pursuing her if they were free to.  
    As he most definitely was not.  
    Dammit to hell—this wasn’t what he’d been expecting. So much for being grateful for extra company!
    They settled Nicky and set off for one of the other homes in the exclusive harbor enclave. It was a fine clear evening for walking, which meant he could relax with a few drinks and not worry about having to drive home.  
    Relax? That was a laugh. With Fiona looking the way she did now, all his senses were super-tuned, razor-sharp.  
    He watched as she stashed her salad on the storage rack below the stroller’s seat. Once again her breasts taunted him with their beauty and accessibility.
    “Will it be safe there?” she asked him.
    “Safe as houses. Can you carry the wine?”

    Fiona took the calico carry-bag from him and glanced at the bottle motifs stenciled on the fabric. It was no doubt one of Jan’s gallery finds; there were reminders of her everywhere. And the biggest reminder walked right beside her—now dressed in snug