Honor Bound by Joey Hill (good novels to read in english TXT) 📗

it. “Fine. Since you need to know before I can have even one day off, I’m having a procedure to remove a polyp from my uterus, then they’ll do a biopsy.” She glared at him. “Satisfied?” Her blast of anger was almost cleansing, wiping out the fear.

He sat back, his eyes serious, flecks of amber in the hazel. “I’m sorry. I’ve been worried about you.”

“It won’t affect my work.” She groaned inwardly. It had affected her work; she wasn’t prepared for the meeting today.

“I didn’t mean your work. I was worried about you.”

“Me?” She was an employee, an executive, true, but still a commodity he had to manage.

“Yes, Sophia, you.” He leaned forward, his knee brushing hers, and this time, he touched her, his fingers on the back of her hand. “How soon will you get the results of the biopsy?”

Her nose prickled. Her eyes started to ache. The dream came flooding back. But she would not cry in front of Ford Connelly. “Three days. By Thursday at the latest.”

“Take the time off until then.”

“I don’t need to.” She’d spend it thinking the worst. She already was.

“You can be with your friends and family.”

“My family’s in Texas.” Just her mom, who didn’t even remember she had a daughter.

“I’m fine coming back to work, Ford, but I appreciate your concern.”

“All right.” He tipped his head, spearing her with his gaze. “Do you have someone taking you home?”

“Of course.” The surgery center wouldn’t allow you to drive yourself. “I’ve scheduled a driver.” Why was he asking? They’d worked together for three years. He was pleasant and a good boss. But he didn’t know her. And she didn’t know him.

“I’m not talking about a driver. I’m talking about a friend who’ll get you settled and take care of you.”

Her throat clogged just as it had when she’d woken from the dream. It hadn’t occurred to her to call someone she knew. She didn’t have friends, per se. She had . . . acquaintances.

She was a private person. In her career, you had to be or people took advantage. There were all sorts of sycophants out there who couldn’t wait to use you. Boy, didn’t that sound bitter, but she’d learned that lesson the hard way when she was twenty-two. Her father had never forgiven her for the way she’d learned it. He hadn’t spoken to her since, not relenting even the day he died, though she’d striven the last twenty years to live her life scandal free. Not even a whiff. Giving up so many things she’d wanted, even craved.

She had no real friends. Was that what Ford wanted her to admit?

“No,” she managed. “I do not have anyone picking me up. I’ll be fine.” Her nose

suddenly stuffed up, and her eyes hurt. If she didn’t get away right now, she wouldn’t be responsible for what happened. She tried to rise.

Ford didn’t release her hand. “Well, I’m not letting a fucking driver take you home. I’ll pick you up.”

She stared at him. Why would he do that? Her heart beat so hard it set her pulse thrumming in her eardrums. “I really don’t need you to do that, thank you.”

He squeezed her hand, looked into her eyes. “I want to.”

She sucked in a breath, held it, forced it out. Ford actually felt sorry for her. Sophia suddenly saw her life for what it was. She had no friends and no activities except those associated with her work, and even then, she was just a face on a piece of poster board.

She’d never married, never had children, never truly fallen in love. She’d never even had an orgasm while a man was inside her. So many things she’d missed out on. When she died, she would die totally alone. She was so damn pathetic even her boss pitied her because she had to hire a driver to take her to and from the surgery center.

Ford shook her hand gently when she didn’t answer. “Let me do this for you, Sophia.”

The words overwhelmed her. His kindness made her heart ache. Her chest felt so

agonizingly tight, she thought her ribs might crack from the pressure. For the first time in more than twenty years, Sophia lost control and burst into tears.

Two

Ford didn’t have a clue what to do for her. Sophia was always the consummate

professional, calm, controlled, never a hair out of place. She even cried without making a big mess.

But Jesus. He was a little freaked.

“Here.” Wanting to touch her, he handed her a box of tissues off the coffee counter instead. She’d always been standoffish, even after his divorce. He was attracted to her, but she’d never given him an opening.

She patted her eyes, her nose. “I’m sorry. I know I’m overreacting.”

“There’s no need to apologize. I understand how difficult this must be.” To have thatthreat hanging over you. His dad had died of lung cancer. He remembered those killing days waiting to hear test results, the radiation, the way the life had drained from him slowly yet inexorably.

“I’m trying to maintain some equilibrium. I realize I’m blowing this all out of

proportion.” She smiled weakly, then her face crumpled, and a fresh wave of tears pooled in her beautiful eyes.

Part of him wanted to swoop in like the proverbial knight in shining armor, bundle her into his arms, but that was taking advantage of her moment of weakness. She’d regret it later.

But he sure as hell wasn’t going to let her hire a driver to bring her home. He slipped his index finger through her curled fist, and, like a child, she gripped him. “It’ll be okay.” He was a good dad, an effective CEO, a decent leader, but like the first time one of his daughters came to him with a broken heart, he felt completely helpless in the face of her pain.

“I know I’m overdramatizing.” She sniffed, dabbed her nose, then gulped a breath.

“It’s natural to be afraid of the worst, but that doesn’t mean it will happen.”

“I know.” She rolled