Because You're Mine

“What?” Alanna touched Barry’s arm to steady herself.

Barry tapped the folder with his finger. “He says you worked in a strip club three years ago and includes a list of your clients, including current ones.”

Did Barry believe it? “It’s a lie.” She dropped her hand from his arm and took a step back.

“Did you work at the Blue Dipper?” he asked, his gaze hooded.

She didn’t want to admit it. “I was a barmaid, but all I ever did for customers was serve them drinks. I quit when the owner tried to pressure me into performing other services.”

She wanted to shudder at the memory of that time, but she kept her gaze on Barry, willing him to believe her. Their gazes locked and the doubt in his eyes stung. “I’m not like that, Barry. You should know better.”

He dropped his gaze. “You’ve never let me in, Alanna. How am I supposed to know all about your past?”

She nodded. “My past is not something I like to talk about.” How would he react to knowing she was a tinker’s daughter? So few people knew her background, and she preferred to keep it that way. Not even Thomas had ferreted it out yet. Barry’s bloodline was as blue as the ocean across the sea grass. She should have disclosed her past to him before he agreed to give her child his name, but she hadn’t deliberately attempted to keep him in the dark. Would he have married her if he knew about her past?

He raised his gaze to study her face. Was he thinking she’d duped him?

“Your word is enough,” he said, breaking a silence that was beginning to grow uncomfortable. He thrust the folder into her hand. “We won’t speak of it again. I’ll take care of this.”

There was something in his eyes she couldn’t tear her gaze from. Was the darkness there a warning, or the passion she knew he felt for her?





Fifteen


Loneliness crept up on Alanna as she walked to the porch the next day. Barry had gone out to look at the summerhouse after announcing that his parents would arrive in the afternoon. She watched for Prince, but the dog stayed hidden. She couldn’t sit around doing nothing but counting the minutes until she had to face Barry’s parents.

Pressing her lips together, she marched up the curving staircase to the second floor. There were too many doors to decide which to peek into. She chose the one just beyond her own room.

The knob turned easily under her hand, and she stepped into a large bedroom. White dust covers draped the bed and other furniture. She walked toward the window and sneezed when dust flew from the floor. The rotted curtains felt greasy in her hand. She couldn’t ask one of her friends to stay in this room.

But if she cleaned it up, got new linens and curtains, maybe it wouldn’t be too bad. She went to the closet and opened it. Dresses from the twenties hung inside, and hatboxes were piled high on the shelf over the clothing. Old shoes lined the floor. This had been a woman’s room. Alanna would have to pack all this stuff and take it to the attic.

Barry’s voice came from behind her. “What are you doing?”

She turned with a smile. “Whose room was this, Barry? These things look like they’re from the twenties.”

He joined her at the closet and shut the door. “This was my great-grandmother’s room. No one has occupied it in eighty years.”

“It needs cleaning. I thought I’d look for new bedding and such. Ciara could stay here.”

He put his arm around her shoulders and guided her to the door. “It’s going to take more than you realize. The mattress is likely full of bugs and mildew and will have to be replaced. The drawers in the dresser are warped. The whole thing needs to be gutted and redone.”

“Are any other rooms better?”

“Not really. By the time we could have rooms here ready, I’ll have the summerhouse finished. A couple of weeks, tops.”

“They can’t be staying in the hotel that long. It’s much too dear.”

“Then they can move into my condo. I’m going to call Ciara and tell her I’ll bring in the key.”

It was good of him to take care of things. His dependability was one of the things she really liked about Barry. “Thank you. We’ll need a place to practice. Any ideas?”

He frowned. “I’ve been thinking about that. The ballroom might not be a bad idea. I could get the boxes cleared away into the attic. Might take a couple of days.”

“I could help.”

“I wouldn’t turn down the company.”

His arm was still around her shoulders. She could smell the spicy tang of his cologne and the clean scent of his shirt. She turned her head to look up at him. His gaze held hers, and she saw the longing there. That hint of darkness she’d seen yesterday was gone.

He’d been so good to her. She leaned against him slightly, not fighting the warmth rushing through her limbs at his nearness.