Page 60 of Wyoming Tough
“I did not plant it there. I swear!”
“They’ve hired a private detective. So have my brothers. The same detective—how’s that for a coincidence?” he murmured.
She shifted in her seat. This was getting too close for comfort. She couldn’t endure a thorough background check. “I’ll sue for invasion of privacy!”
“Gelly, the detective is investigating the theft of a priceless jeweled egg,” he reminded her. “How does that involve your privacy?”
She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry.” She forced a smile. “I wasn’t thinking clearly. I’m very upset. Her father is obnoxious!”
“He loves her. He’s very protective. I’d be that way about my own kids.”
She snuggled up to him. “Wouldn’t you like to have a family? I would. We could get married right away.”
“We could. But we aren’t going to.”
“But you like me, don’t you?”
He looked down into eyes like cash registers, as cold as ice, and realized that he’d never seen Gelly as she really was until now. It had taken a near tragedy to open his eyes to her real nature.
“You really want to be rich, don’t you?”
She gaped at him. “Who doesn’t?”
“There are things more important than money.”
She laughed coldly. “Of course there are, if you’ve got it.”
“I want to hear more about that friend of yours, Cardman,” he said suddenly.
She looked around restlessly. “He’s just someone I know. He’s down on his luck.”
“Would it be because of the lawsuits?”
She cleared her throat. “I think I’ll try to have a little nap,” she said with a practiced smile. “I’ve had a very upsetting evening. You don’t mind?”
“I don’t mind.”
She curled up in her seat and pillowed her head on her arm. Mallory got up and went to sit in the front seat, where he had access to a laptop. He opened it and started doing some digging of his own.
WHEN HE GOT HOME, his brothers were both in the living room, having coffee and watching the news before bedtime.
They stared at him curiously. “You’re back early,” Tank said. “I thought the plan was to fly back in tomorrow.”
“There was an unexpected surprise.”
They both raised eyebrows.
Mallory stuck both hands in the pockets of his dress slacks and glared at them. “Kingston Brannt has a daughter.”
“Oh?” Cane mused with a wicked smile.
“Does he, now?” Tank added. “And you noticed her?”
“It was hard not to,” Mallory snapped. “She worked for us for several weeks.”
There were shocked faces all around.
“Morie?” Cane asked. “She’s the daughter of that Brannt?”
Table of Contents
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