What She Doesn't Know Read Online Free Page B

in her throat. What could she say? What should she say? No one, least of all Max, would understand if she told him that Louis Royale might have died tonight, but her father had died nineteen years ago, on the day he married Georgette.
    “Did you hear me?” Max asked, his tone sharp with displeasure.
    “Yes, I heard you. You said that Louis Royale passed away tonight.”
    “Visitation is planned for Saturday night and the funeral for Sunday afternoon, but I can change those plans if—”
    “No. There’s no need to change the plans for me.”
    “You will come home for the funeral, won’t you?”
    “I…I don’t know.”
    “Damn it, woman, the man was your father. If you couldn’t show him any love and respect while he was still alive, the least you can do is show up for his funeral.”
    “Go to hell, Max!”
    Jolie slammed down the receiver, then fell across the bed and curled into a fetal ball. Tremors racked her body as she tried valiantly to control her emotions. But suddenly, uncontrollably, she cried. Tears of regret. Tears of loneliness and hopelessness. Tears for herself. Her mother. Aunt Lisette. And yes, tears for her father, too.

Chapter 2
     
    There were days when Eartha Kilpatrick hated everything about Sumarville, and on those bad days, she found herself being less than charitable toward others. At thirty-nine, she felt trapped in a life that wasn’t anything like the one she’d once dreamed of having. A teenage pregnancy, then marriage to a real louse had set her on the wrong path. Raising two kids after her divorce hadn’t been easy, nor had taking care of her father, who’d died four years ago, after suffering from Alzheimer’s since he was fifty. She supposed she should be thankful for her blessings. She’d inherited the Sumarville Inn from her parents and had taken over the management of the town’s only hotel/ motel after her father’s illness made it impossible for him to continue running the business. Both of her daughters were away at college on scholarships. And she had an interesting man in her life, even if their relationship was pretty much a backstreet affair.
    As she passed the mirrored wall in the lobby area of the hotel, she caught a glimpse of herself and smiled secretly. Unlike a lot of women approaching forty, she hadn’t lost her figure. Men still found her attractive. Men like Max Devereaux. Of course she knew the limits of their relationship. Friendship and sex. He’d been totally honest with her from the very beginning. The guy had been burned badly by his one and only marriage. And it didn’t help that the rumors about him having killed Felicia Wells Devereaux still surfaced from time to time. Although she knew Max was no saint and he possessed a dark, dangerous side, she had never believed him capable of murder.
    Eartha entered the restaurant and walked straight to the bar. Glancing around, she inspected her employees as they swept the floor and set the tables for breakfast the following morning. Only two customers remained at the bar, which would close in thirty minutes. A couple of regulars, both middle-aged men who didn’t want to go home to their wives.
    “What’ll it be, boss lady?” R. J. Sutton, her recently hired young bartender asked.
    She smiled at him. The guy was damn good looking, and if her instincts were right, a bad boy to the core. If she were a few years younger, she’d be tempted to find out just how bad he was. Perhaps that was the reason she found Max so irresistible—she’d always had a weakness for hellions.
    “Whiskey and water.” Eartha watched R. J. as he lifted a bottle of Jack Daniels from the shelf. He was tall, lanky, and broad shouldered, with thick blond hair that hung almost to his shoulders.
    After he filled her glass halfway and added the water, he turned and set it in front of her. Just as she started to say thanks, she noticed his gaze leave her face and settle at the restaurant’s entrance.
    “Trouble’s back,” he