Secrets and Sins: Malachim (A Secrets and Sins Novel) (Entangled Ignite) Read Online Free

offering.”
    He nodded then shifted his attention to her education and employment history. She’d memorized the information—when a person handed over a fabricated list of her skills and accomplishments, the prudent choice would be to know it by heart. The paper detailed her high school education and two years of community college in the Chicago area, a long eight-year break, and a certification from an online paralegal program. All fake, and for three thousand dollars, all 100 percent verifiable.
    “I notice you’ve recently moved to the Boston area.”
    If by “moving,” you meant sneaking out in the dead of night to flee one state for another with one’s life packed into a single suitcase, then sure. “Yes. From Chicago.”
    “You have family here?” he asked.
    “No. I just wanted a change.” That sharp gaze studied her as if he could peer beneath her skin to the truth beneath. “I grew up in Massachusetts before my family left years ago.” Truth. “When I needed a fresh start, it seemed the place to go. At one time, it was home.”
    He bent his head, scanning her résumé once more. His hair gleamed under the ceiling lights, the strands like a cap of white gold. Would his hair feel soft to the touch like silk? Or would the short length be coarser? The inane thought popped unbidden into her head before she could shut it down.
    I’m not his damn barber, so I don’t care. And she shifted her attention away from his head to the painting behind him.
    The art depicted a lone, shadowed figure of a man standing on an outcropping of rocks. A lighthouse, proud and solid, soared to the sky as waves crashed onto the boulders below. It wasn’t a cheery picture; the mass of clouds in the gray sky was too dark, too menacing. And to Danielle, the man appeared to lean forward, gazing into the turbulent waters as if searching for something—or someone—among the swells.
    It snagged at her soul, and in that moment her inspection of the painting was no longer a carefully affected façade but true fascination. That’s me . In such a dark, seemingly hopeless and storm-battered place. Yet, like the man who peered into the angry night, she stared into her future with hope, desperate to spot the lifeline capable of keeping her from drowning.
    “It’s called Still Waiting. ”
    She glanced down where Malachim watched her, not the painting. “It’s by a local artist.”
    Silence hijacked the room. Why would Malachim Jerrod have this piece of art in his inner sanctum? Why would it call to him, of all people? Yes, he was presently embroiled in a legal mess, but he was still wealthy, still successful.
    I don’t care, she reminded herself. Not my business.
    “It’s lovely,” she said and cleared her throat. She gestured toward the paper in his hand. “I know my work history doesn’t contain much experience, but—”
    “That’s an understatement.” He laid the résumé on the desktop, and his steady contemplation never wavered. “There is a gap for almost eight years.”
    She’d practiced the story in the mirror until she could repeat it without the smallest pause or hesitation. Her facial expression—chagrin and the slightest bit of defensiveness—had been perfected until Julia Roberts would’ve been jealous of her acting skills. She notched her chin up.
    “I was in a long-term relationship that didn’t work. After it ended, I decided to pursue something for myself, which was the move to Boston and a career as a paralegal.”
    “For the last year, you’ve been working at—” he cast a fleeting look down “—Pat’s Diner?”
    “Not many firms are willing to take a risk on a newly minted legal assistant with only book knowledge.” An image of Patrick Duncan, the diner’s owner and the only person she’d been able to call “friend” in the last year, charged to the front of her mind. “And waitressing is hard, honest work.” Good going. She squelched a wince. Snapping at the man is the perfect way