A Wolf in Sheep's Clothing Read Online Free Page A

of beautiful mountains. She’d expected opposition to such a move from her family, so she’d carefully chosen the moment to let them know about her decision.
    No Alistair ever argued at the dinner table. So, sitting at the elegant antique table that had been handed down from Alistair to Alistair for generations, she had waited patiently for a break in the dinner conversation and calmly announced, “I’ve decided to take advantage of my inheritance from Great-Uncle Cyrus. I’ll be leaving for Montana at the end of the week.”
    â€œBut you can’t possibly manage a sheep ranch on your own, Harriet,” her mother admonished in a cultured voice. “And since you’re bound to fail, darling, I can’t understand why you would even want to give it a try. Besides,” she added, “think of the smell!”
    Harry—her mother cringed every time she heard the masculine nickname—had turned her compelling brown eyes to her father, looking for an encouraging word.
    â€œYour mother is right, sweetheart,” Terence Waverly Alistair said. “My daughter, a sheep farmer?” His thick white brows lowered until they nearly met at the bridge of his nose. “I’m afraid I can’t lend my support to such a move. You haven’t succeeded at a single job I’ve found for you, sweetheart. Not the one as a teller in mybank, not the one as an executive assistant, nor the the one as a medical receptionist. You’ve gotten yourself fired for ineptness at every single one. It’s foolhardy to go so far—Montana is a long way from Virginia, my dear—merely to fail yet again. Besides,” he added, “think of the cold!”
    Harry turned her solemn gaze toward her older brother, Charles. He had been her champion in the past. He had even unbent so far as to call her Harry when their parents weren’t around. Now she needed his support. Wanted his support. Begged with her eyes for his support.
    â€œI’m afraid I have to agree with Mom and Dad, Harriet.”
    â€œBut, Charles—”
    â€œLet me finish,” he said in a determined voice. Harry met her brother’s sympathetic gaze as he continued. “You’re only setting yourself up for disappointment. You’ll be a lot happier if you learn to accept your limitations.”
    â€œMeaning?” Harry managed to whisper past the ache in her throat.
    â€œMeaning you just aren’t clever enough to pull it off, Harriet. Besides,” he added, “think of all that manual labor!”
    Harry felt the weight of a lifetime of previous failures in every concerned but discouraging word her family had offered. They didn’t believe she could do it. She took a deep breath and let it out.She could hardly blame them for their opinion of her. To be perfectly honest, she had never given them any reason to think otherwise. So why was she so certain that this time things would be different? Why was she so certain that this time she would succeed? Because she knew something they didn’t: she had done all that failing in the past on purpose.
    Harry was paying now for years of deception. It had started innocently enough when she was a child and her mother had wanted her to take ballet lessons. At six Harry had already towered over her friends. Gawky and gangly, she knew she was never going to make a graceful prima ballerina. One look at her mother’s face, however, and Harry had known she couldn’t say, “No, thank you. I’d rather be playing basketball.”
    Instead, she’d simply acquired two left feet. It had worked. Her ballet instructor had quickly labeled her irretrievably clumsy and advised Isabella Alistair that she would only be throwing her money away if Harriet continued in the class. Isabella was forced to admit defeat. Thus, unbeknownst to her parents, Harry had discovered at a very early age a passive way of resisting them.
    Over the years Harry