Her Galahad Read Online Free Page B

ran down her face. "I'm a bigamist! And I always thought I'd lead a boring, unadventurous life!"
    He'd hated this woman for years; he hated her still for what she'd done to him. Yet he felt a grin twitching at the corners of his mouth. Well, the whole situation was absurd; and he'd always responded to her quirky sense of humor that shone out at odd moments. "We'd better stick to the speed limit. If the cops put my driver's license through a computer, they may notice that I'm supposed to be eighty-one." He grinned. "Jirrah McLaren was my grandfather on my mother's side who died two years ago. My cousin put my photo on Pop's ID and fudged the birth date. It was fairly easy since we were born just about fifty years apart."
    She mopped the laughter-tears from her cheek. "Thank God we're in the country—if we got pulled over for random breath test or speeding, and neither of us can say who we are!"
    "Crazy," he agreed, with a grin.
    He could feel her eyes on him: her old, lynxlike gaze of unnerving honesty. "Duncan and Cameron did this to you, didn't they? They set you up so Cameron could have me."
    He nodded, swamped by the magnitude of his relief. He'd half expected her to deny it all, dump him by the roadside when he told her what Beller and her brother had done to him. But with the integrity typical of the girl he'd known, she recognized the truth, no matter how tough it was to accept. The inescapable fact that she'd committed bigamy was the linchpin on which he'd based his hope, and he'd been right—helped along, no doubt, by the death certificate he didn't know they'd given her.
    That must he why Beller blew up the car today: to stop them from meeting and swapping stories—but the plan backfired. Stupid jerk! He'd have been out of Tessa's life forever by now if Beller bad left his car alone.
    He frowned. Beller had played a star part in his prosecution, and trying to prevent his parole; but it had been a respectable, plausible part. The fierceness of this sudden rampage—acting himself instead of using a hired goon, taking such risks—told him Beller was bloody scared. Scared of losing his life. Losing the support and admiration of Sydney society. Losing his wife.
    This time, Beller would be out for blood. His blood.
    He negotiated the rocky terrain of the untarred back road in silence, waiting for her to work out the rest. He knew she would. Tessa might be many things, but she wasn't stupid.
    She drew a deep breath, and said the words he'd expected. "When did they set all this up?"
    "The cops arrested me on the way to your dad's house."
    It had finally been spoken, her worst fear: the connection in time between the wedding and his arrest. Tessa slumped in her seat, reliving the slow horror of that morning.
    The day after their secret marriage.
    She'd had to come alone to tell her widowed father about her marriage to an Aboriginal carpenter. Only she could tell him that she, his most cherished and beloved child, had gone against his will in a way he'd never forgive. Keith Earldon, millionaire barrister, loving, overprotective father and inconspicuous racist always had, always would consider David Oliveri to be a man far beneath his daughter, in every possible way.
    It was hard, so hard. She endured her father's pleading, his recriminations and coldness; she even took his eventual disowning of her in unflinching silence. With tears streaming down her face she packed her bags, knowing this choice had been inevitable from the moment she met the man she loved. She dearly loved the father and brother who'd brought her up, but her heart belonged to David. They'd surely come around…
    She'd stood outside the gates of the exclusive beachside acreage, waiting for her husband to come for her. Waiting with all the sweet confidence of young love. Waiting. And waiting.
    And then the slow, chilling realization came creeping into her soul. David wasn't coming to face her father with the reality of their marriage. He wasn't here to