Dark Angel (Casteel 2)

early?"

Backing off from him, I shook my head

numbly. I wasn't Pa's daughter. Pa. A scumbag

Casteel.

"You said your father hated you, hated you

from the day you were born. Heaven, it is entirely

possible, Leigh being what she was, that she told your

father she was pregnant before she married him. And

now I am certain about who you are. It's your hair,

Heaven, and your hands. Your hair is the same color

and texture as Troy's, and your hands and fingers are

shaped like his. Like mine. We both have the Tatterton fingers."

He spread his hands, displaying his long,

tapering fingers, before I gazed down at mine. They

wer

e the same hands I'd seen all my life, small with

long fingers and long oval nails--and half the women

in the world had hair my color. Nothing exceptional.

And I'd always believed Granny's hands would have

looked like mine if she hadn't kept them working

slavishly most of her life.

Stunned and aching, sickened almost into

vomiting, I turned and left his office. Stumbling up

the stairs and into my room, I threw myself on my bed

and cried.

Not a Casteel? Not a no-good, rotten, scumbag

Casteel with five uncles imprisoned for life? Tony strolled into my bedroom without

knocking, to perch lightly on the foot of my bed, and

this time his voice was soft and kind: "Don't make it

so difficult, darling. I'm so sorry to ruin your romance