The Owner of His Heart Read Online Free Page A

Matthews off his body with freezing water.

CHAPTER FOUR
     
    INSIDE HER cozy apartment in Squirrel Hill, Layla was also cursing herself. Honor was always being touted as such a great quality to have in movies and books, but in real life, it only caused you more trouble than it was worth. For instance, if she hadn’t felt compelled to pay back her father’s debts along with her student loans, she might have a bigger nest egg of her own by now. And if she weren’t so honorable, she definitely wouldn’t be in the position of having to meet with Nathan Sinclair, a man who didn’t even try to hide how much he despised her for reasons she still couldn’t remember.
    Moving to Pittsburgh in order to unearth the mystery of her last year here had been a gift to herself for being so good and honorable all these years. For once, she was putting herself first. She had even started saving money toward hiring a private investigator. But then she’d had her run-in with Nathan Sinclair, and her honor hadn’t let her back down and walk away with a simple apology for her father’s deceit. Oh no, her honor demanded she not only pay him back the money her father had taken from his family, but that she also do so as quickly as humanly possible.
    She sold her car and started taking the bus everywhere. She’d also picked up extra hours by signing up for the center’s mobile physical therapy service, which involved visiting clients all over the city. The extra hours wouldn’t have been so bad if she still had a car. But as it was, bussing everywhere meant she often didn’t crawl into bed until eleven at night, only to wake up again at five am for her regular shift at the center.
    Layla had never been a complainer and wouldn’t have minded the lack of sleep, except for two things: one, by her calculations, she would have to work at this rate for eight more months to pay Nathan Sinclair back, and two, he kept showing up in her dreams.
    She only got six hours of sleep a night, but for some reason, an embarrassing number of those hours were taken up with images of the man she disliked most in the world doing things to her, in a large window seat of all places…sexual things, so graphic in nature she’d often wake up from them with a hot face and an aching leftover desire between her legs.
    The morning of her check appointment with Nathan Sinclair had been no different. She woke up from a scorching hot dream, dripping wet, and with no time to pull out her vibrator, because it had taken her braying alarm clock fifteen minutes to actually break into her sex dream and wake her up.
    “Girl, please take a day off,” Peggy, the grandmotherly receptionist at the St. Mary’s Physical Therapy Center said when Layla dragged into work that morning. “I’m getting tired just looking at you.”
    Layla tried to rub some of the sticky sleepiness out her eyes. “I’ll be fine after a cup of coffee. A really large one.”
    “You know what’s even better than coffee, I hear.” Peggy leaned in and whispered like it was a state secret, “Sleep.”
    Layla gave her a tired smile. “I’m fine, Miss Peggy. But I really appreciate your concern. You’re kind to fuss over me.”
    “You know what’s even better than an old black lady fussing over you?” This time Peggy cupped a hand around her mouth to whisper even louder, “A good-looking man fussing under you.”
    Layla burst out laughing. “Peggy, you need to stop.”
    “No, you need to stop. Literally. Go find yourself a nice man and start spending your weekends with him as opposed to all these busted up people.”
    Layla waved her off and continued into the center after a little more small talk. She wished she had the time and energy to date. She could use some non medically-mandated company.
    Growing up, she dreamed of meeting a nice guy and starting a family. But first there had been all the physical therapy after the fall that had not only robbed her of her memory, but also broken just