The Widow and the Wastrel Read Online Free

put me on my best behavior?" Jed had mocked.
    "I've made my wishes known," Jeremy had stated stiffly. "I would like to have you as my best man. It's up to you to accept or refuse."
    Without answering, Jed had turned and walked away.
     

 
    Chapter Two
     
    A FLASH of total recall brought vividly back to life that long-forgotten incident. Elizabeth's fingertips were unconsciously pressed against her lips. In retrospect, Jed's kiss did not seem nearly so frightening or unpleasant. The discovery was very unsettling because it was so at odds with her opinion of him.
    Jed had not been best man at their wedding. In fact, a few days after her introduction to him, Jeremy told her that he had left for parts unknown. Although he had not added it, Elizabeth had sensed that Jeremy wished his brother Godspeed and a long journey. Secretly she had been surprised that his parents had endorsed the thought, but mostly she had felt relief that Jed would not be around.
    In appearance, he and Jeremy had not resembled each other except for the brown hair. Jeremy had been an inch or two taller than Jed's six feet. His frame had been broader and more muscular in appearance than Jed's lean build. In Elizabeth's judgment, Jeremy had been the handsomer of the two, with a fine strong face that was youthfully manly.
    At twenty-three there had been a chiseled hardness to Jed's features that the years had seemed to intensify, making him appear more cynical and ragged. Yet it had been his overpowering sense of maleness that had left Elizabeth feeling so naively insecure and inexperienced. She had known that she could become the kind of socially acceptable wife that Jeremy wanted, but the thought of Jed as her brother-in-law had filled her with trepidation. Then he had removed himself, taking with him her fear and uncertainly.
    Now Jed had returned. Why? It was a question without an answer, one that he had dodged successfully when she had asked him. If he had returned after Jeremy's death or his father's, Elizabeth would have understood. But there seemed little purpose for his return. She couldn't believe it was prompted by any sense of family loyalty or any driving desire to return to the home of his birth.
    If it had been that, he wouldn't have returned looking like a common tramp, dirty and disheveled. No, if he had hoped to get back in good graces with his mother as the only remaining male member of the family, he would have made his homecoming in a more auspicious manner. He would have spent his last cent to look the part of a Carrel and not come walking across fields carrying a knapsack on his back, unshaven and unkempt.
    "A penny for your thoughts—or is it more expensive to know what a Carrel is thinking?"
    Elizabeth blinked into a pair of gold-brown eyes, catlike like the rest of Jed Carrel, always insinuating a lazy feline arrogance. She didn't have to be told it was a pose, that he could respond with catlike swiftness.
    "They—" She took a deep breath to control the sudden acceleration of her pulse. "They aren't worth a penny."
    "My omelette?" Jed prodded mockingly when she continued to stare at him.
    "Right away."
    She turned quickly to the refrigerator, tearing her gaze from the transformation that had occurred in the space of a few minutes. The beard growth was gone, revealing a lean jaw and high cheekbones. The heady scent of some male aftershave lotion drifted around her nose. His tobacco brown hair gleamed a darker brown, courtesy of the shower spray; its natural waywardness even when combed properly giving him a more rakish appearance.
    But again she had been struck by his maleness, her awareness awakened by the crisp, white, short-sleeved shirt only partially buttoned. The tanned skin of his bare arms rippled with sinewy muscles and the dark curling hair on his chest heightened the teak shade of his tan. His leanness made his strength seem primitively masculine. An inner sense told her that even when he was in formal clothing the