Nobody's Business (Nobody Romances) Read Online Free Page A

gets, like, tunnel vision and can't see what's
on either side of him. He skis with his dog."
    Deep inside his brain, a dormant instinct sparked. His reporter's senses tingled, like Spiderman's. But he shoved the
sensation away. His reporting days were over; he couldn't type
and no way he'd be seen on television with The Claw. "Yeah,
right."
    "No joke. He's got a human guide for racing and stuff, but
just for toodling around the easy slopes, he uses his Labrador
retriever. The dog's a two-tracker, by the way."
    A smile twitched his lips, and Kerri-Sue beamed brighter
than sunshine on fresh snow. "Now that's more like it. You're
actually a good-looking guy when you're not growling at me."
    "I'm old enough to be your father." Or, at least, an uncle.
    She gave him the critical once-over. "You think so? You're ...
what? Thirty-five?"
    He shrugged. Thirty-five in years, but ninety in experience.
And feeling older every minute ...
    "How old do you think I am?"
    A dangerous question. And he had no intention of stepping
closer to that ledge. Not with a woman who could push him
off a cliff and get away with it.
    "Come on," Kerri-Sue pressed. "You started this. Finish it. "
    He'd lowball her to be on the safe side. "Twenty-one."
    She laughed. "Now you're just making fun of me. Come on,
be honest. I can take it. How old do you really think I am?"
    "No more than twenty-six."
    "Which would make you too young to be my father. The fact
is, though, I'll be forty this coming August." She must have
seen his eyes widen because she nodded like a bobblehead doll. "Really. Good Swedish genes. Great Swedish genes, actually."

    Okay, so maybe he didn't have clothes older than her.
    But maybe she only told him she was almost forty to make
him feel better somehow. Some kind of pity-lie for the cripple.
    His doubts must have shown on his face because she leaned
closer, eyes crinkled with mirth. "Wanna see my driver's license?"
    Embarrassment crept up his nape, and he quickly looked
away, focusing on the J-bar lift as it revolved from the bottom
to the top of the slope.
    "I can go back to the locker room and get my wallet," she
persisted.
    Leveling a steely gaze her way, he replied, "I'll take your
word for it."
    "Good. Then slap on your helmet and let's get started." She
picked up the helmet and shoved it at Doug's chest.
    Instinctively, he reached with his right arm, but, of course,
nothing happened. He'd left his prosthesis in his slopeside condo.
Still not one hundred percent comfortable with the motion of the
fake arm, he preferred to relearn skiing without it.
    "Here." With a maternal sigh, Kerri-Sue slipped the helmet
over Doug's head, then slid the goggles into place over his face.
She bent close to study his field of vision. "Can you see okay?"
    He had to swallow hard to keep his pride from screaming that
he could do these tasks himself. Because, the truth of the matter
was, he couldn't. Too frustrated to speak, he settled for a nod.
    Apparently that was enough acknowledgment for Kerri-Sue.
With gentle fingers, she clipped the strap under his chin.
    Once again, he gulped back his resentment. Good God,
how many more insults would his ego have to suffer? How on
earth could he ever be whole again? Bitterness bubbled like
bile in his gut. He couldn't. The best he could hope for was a
half-existence. He'd either be stuck fumbling with that phony
artifice that masqueraded as a human arm or playing helpless
victim so others could tie his shoes for him.
    No. No way. He'd fight this battle. No way did he intend to
spend the rest of his life with a hired coddler. Or his mother.

    Kerri-Sue smiled, her cheeks rosy from the cold. "Come
on, Doug. Let's hit the slopes!"
    After leaving Becky and Michael under the watchful eyes of
the kitchen staff amid steaming cups of cocoa and squares of
brownies, Lyn took one of her last runs of the day. At the top
of the Snow Blind trail's final hill, she stopped to watch the
new