Page 48 of The Making of Marnie Jones

Heretofore previously unknown, unfurling desire that curled through her belly. In that moment, she was curious. What would it be like to be touched by Jake? Kissed by Jake? Made love to by Jake? She'd seen it in his eyes—the desire was mutual.

She took another swig of water. Fanciful dreaming. She was a woman who’d never been kissed, never been held, never been made love to. She was a woman who'd been raped, repeatedly, by a monster. She’d only ever read about romance. Had previously only ever seen people being lovingly intimate on a television screen. But now there was Loriana and her husband Mitch. Of course, they tended to keep things pretty tame when they were around her.

Who was she to think she had anything to give a man like Jake McGrath? There might be sexual attraction, but she could never act upon it. After all, she'd frozen when they accidentally touched, and she asked him to never touch her.

Except he’d held her hand on the plane. Granted, extenuating circumstances were present but, despite that, his touch had been warm. Sure. Reassuring. What would it be like if he touched her deliberately? What if he could awaken desire within her?

She took another drink of water.

Too far-fetched to contemplate. She’d probably freeze up if he touched her. Probably have a panic attack if he kissed her.

She owed him a lot. At least now she knew she was capable of physical attraction. That scared her and fascinated her at the same time.

Huh. Olivia’d been MIA for over an hour now. Time to make her move.

Balancing the plate of food in one hand and a glass of milk in the other, she made her way to the bedroom. She placed everything on the bedside table, walked across the plush pale-gray carpet, and knocked on the bathroom door. “Olivia?”

No answer.

“Olivia, it's Marnie.”

Silence.

“Okay, I’ll leave your lunch out here, and I'll be in the kitchen.” She let several beats pass. “I expect to see you in the next half hour or I’ll have to break down the door.” She grinned to herself. She was giving Olivia some space, but not too much. They both knew she was incapable of breaking down the door. Jake, on the other hand, was very capable. Making her way back to the kitchen, she was at loose ends. With no meals to prepare, and no cleanup to do, she had time on her hands.

Find something. Anything.

Curious, she headed toward the end of the condo opposite from the master bedroom. After a debate with herself, she turned the handle and entered what she presumed was the second bedroom.

The venetian blinds were angled slightly to keep out the direct sunlight, and as she stepped into the room, she realized why.

A huge mahogany desk was placed in front of the windows, facing the stunning view of Lake Ontario. A chair filled one corner and the rest of the room was full of bookcases. Floor-to-ceiling, solid mahogany bookcases. At least ten. Crammed full of books. Some were classic leather-bound while others were more contemporary hardcovers. A few shelves contained current bestsellers in softcover.

She’d set up a room like this in her own house if she had the courage. Bookshelves and tomes spoke permanence—and she never quite shook the belief her life in Mission City was too good to be true. She kept waiting for discovery, and the need to flee again.

She pounced on the first shelf containing a complete leather-bound set of the Harvard Classics. She’d read a few of those significant works of literature and she salivated over the delight of reading more. Next was Durant’s eleven-volumeThe Story of Civilization. Also, a first edition of hisThe Story of Philosophy. She always loved the story of Will and Ariel Durant. Married when Ariel was just fifteen, they’d been together for almost seventy years, finally dying within two weeks of each other. They’d had a true partnership in every sense of the word.

A partnership Marnie’d never be privy to.

Oh well, nothing to do about that. She continued to peruse the bestsellers.Jake collects romance novels?Grabbing one, she headed back to the living room.

She was fully engrossed in her book when Olivia emerged. Glancing up, she watched as the young woman put her dishes in the dishwasher.

Then Olivia came back toward the living room and flopped on the couch opposite the chair where Marnie was curled.

You can do this.

Seriously, how hard could it be? Ask a few innocuous questions. Establish trust. Avoid land mines. Easy.

Yeah, right.

Olivia put her feet on the coffee table, and Marnie guessed the young woman to be an inch or two under six feet tall.

She was slender with a flawless complexion, her hair was long and blonde, eyes the same shade of blue as her uncle’s. The family resemblance was unmistakable.

Those eyes were mistrustful as they evaluated Marnie. Steeling herself, she met Olivia's scrutiny head-on. She had to hold her ground, and several minutes passed before the young woman spoke.

“Jake says I have to talk to you.”

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