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e t e r S o n
“If I only wanted to train to be a doctor, there are other ways
to accomplish the task without committing my life to someone.Now, if this is all you came to tell me, I’m going back inside tobe with my guests.”“He’s an Irishman!” Jake declared, stumbling forward.Deborah stopped and looked at him. The fact that Christopher Clayton was truly Christopher Clayton Kelleher was wellknown in her family and circle of friends, but why Jake thoughtit important to bring it up now was beyond her.
She shook her head. “I’m sorry, Jake. You’ve saved my life
more than once, but I don’t love you. We’re just good friends.”
He pushed her back against the house. “But I love you. Don’t
you understand? I want to marry you. It should be me.” He took hold of her face rather roughly and covered her mouth with hisown.Deborah fought against his hold. His breath reeked of beeras he sought to deepen his kiss. She tried to claw at his face, butJake quickly pinned her arms.“I can make you . . . happy,” he murmured against her lips.“Stop or I’ll scream!”She didn’t need to. In a flash, G.W. had yanked Jake away from her and onto his backside. Standing over the smaller man,Deborah’s brother shook a fist at him. “Of all the dumb things.What in the world is wrong with you, Wythe?”
“I love her. She shouldn’t . . . shouldn’t marry the doc. She . . .
she . . . she should marry me.”“You’re drunk.” G.W. reached down and pulled Jake to hisfeet. “You’re drunk and you attacked my sister. Get out of hereand don’t come back. You’re fired.”Jake looked at him, confused—as if the words didn’t make