"Arthur, Keri - Ripple Creek 01 - Beneath a Rising Moon" - читать интересную книгу автора (Arthur Keri)Beneath a Rising Moon
*** Keri Arthur She’d seduced him—bound herself to him through this phase of the moon—to find a killer, but he was turning the tables on her… “Your mother was born on the Bitterroot Reservation over in Idaho, wasn’t she?” It felt like Duncan Sinclair had punched her. Neva Grant’s breath left in a whoosh of air, and for several seconds, she couldn’t even breathe. Couldn’t do anything more than look at him in horror. “Did you know,” he continued mercilessly, “that as a sixteen-year-old she took part in a raid of the Sinclair stronghold over there and burned it to the ground?” “No.” “Yes.” His voice was monotone. Relentless. “Thirteen people died that night, and many more were injured. Your mother was never charged because her old man paid off the right people.” She slapped her palms on the table and thrust upright. “Get out.” His smile was grim. “She’s done it once, Neva. She “I said, get out.” Her voice shook with the force of the fury rolling through her. “A good investigator considers all options.” “My mother is not an option. Now get the hell out of my house.” He didn’t move. Didn’t even blink. Might have been made of stone, and she was certain his heart was. “Then perhaps you should consider your father,” he said, his rich voice as cold as the storm outside. “Did you know he’d been questioning Betise about who was dancing with whom up at the mansion?” She’d been questioning Betise—and the older wolf had certainly never mentioned her father doing the same. And she would have, if only because Betise hated Neva’s father. It was actually doubtful whether she’d give him the time of day. “I said get out. I meant it.” “Your days and nights are mine, little wolf. I’m not going anywhere.” “You’re a...” Words failed her. Somehow, bastard just didn’t seem strong enough. His smile contained little warmth. “So you keep saying.” She hit him. Not physically, but emotionally. Hit him with all the anger and humiliation and pain that had built |
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