Maureen Child - His By Any Means

“Wouldn’t that be like a slap in the face to J.D.?” she asked aloud, not really expecting an answer.

“Lots of people wanted to slap J.D. over the years.”

She whirled around to face Sage, who stood in the open doorway, one shoulder braced against the doorjamb. He leaned there casually, looking taller and stronger and somehow more intimidating than he had in the parking lot. And that was saying something. His cool blue gaze was locked on hers and Colleen felt the slam of that stare from all the way across the room.

Her heartbeat jumped into a gallop, her mind went blessedly blank for a second or two and her mouth dried up completely. There was a buzzing sensation going on inside her, too, and it was tingling long-comatose parts of her body back into life. What was it about this man that could turn her into such a hormonal wreck just by showing up?

“What? I mean,” she muttered, irritated that once again she felt tongue-tied around him. She’d always thought of herself as a simple, forthright kind of woman. Before now, she had never had trouble talking to anyone. But all Sage had to do was show up and her mouth was so busy thinking of doing other more interesting things that it couldn’t seem to talk. “I didn’t know you were there.”

“Yeah,” he said, pushing away from the wall and strolling confidently into the room. “You seemed a little...distracted.” He glanced around the sumptuous room, taking in the pale blue quilt, the dozen or more pillows stacked against a gleaming brass headboard and the brightly colored throw rugs covering the polished wood floor. “This place has changed some.”

“It’s a lovely room,” she said, again feeling a pang about leaving.

He glanced at her and shrugged. “When I was a kid, this was my room.”

His room. Oh, my. A rush of heat swept through her system so completely, she felt as if she’d gotten a sudden fever. She’d been living in Sage’s room for the past few months. If she’d known that before, she might not have been able to sleep at all.

She smiled hesitantly. “I’m guessing it looks a lot different to you, then.”

“It does.” He walked to the window, looked out, and then turned back to her with a quick grin. “The trellis is still there, though. You ever climb down it in the middle of the night?”

“No, but you did?”

“As often as possible,” he admitted. “Especially when I was a teenager. J.D. and I...” His voice trailed off. Then he cleared his throat and said, “Sometimes I just needed to get out of the house for a while.”

Colleen tried to imagine Sage as an unhappy boy, escaping out a window to claim some independence. But with the image of the strong, dynamic man he was now, standing right in front of her, it wasn’t easy.

“So,” he said abruptly, “what do you want to slap J.D. for?”

The sudden shift in conversation threw her for a second until she remembered that he’d been listening when she was talking to herself.

“I don’t. I mean...” She blew out a breath and said, “It’s nothing.”

“Didn’t sound like nothing to me,” he mused, turning his back on the window and the view beyond to look at her again.

Backlit against the window, he looked more broad shouldered, more powerful...just, more. The bedroom suddenly seemed way smaller than it had just a few minutes ago, too. Sage Lassiter was the kind of man who overtook a room once he was in it, making everyone and everything somehow diminished just with his presence. A little intimidating. And if she was going to be honest with herself, a lot exciting.

Which wasn’t helping her breathing any. “I was thinking out loud, that’s all.”

“About?”

She met his gaze. “If you must know, about whether or not I should accept the money J.D. left me.”

Surprise shone briefly in his eyes. “And the decision is?”

“I haven’t made one yet,” she admitted, dropping the T-shirt onto her half-packed suitcase. “To be honest, I don’t know what I should do.”

“Most people would just take the three million and run.”

Colleen shrugged helplessly. “I’m not most people.”

“I’m beginning to get that,” he said, stuffing both hands into his jeans pockets as he walked toward her. “Look, I came on a little strong earlier—”

“Really?” She smiled and shook her head. She remembered everything he’d said that morning. Every word. Every tone. Every glittering accusation he’d shot at her from his eyes. She also remembered that electrical jolt she’d gotten when she touched him.

He nodded. “You’re right. And I was wrong. J.D. wanted you to have the money. You should take it.”

“Just like that?” She studied him, hoping to see some tangible sign of why he’d changed his mind, but she couldn’t read a darn thing on his face. The man was inscrutable. As a businessman, the ability to blank out all expression had probably helped him amass his fortune. But in a one-on-one situation, it was extremely annoying.

“Why not?” He moved even closer and Colleen could have sworn she felt actual heat radiating from his body to enclose her in a cocoon of warmth. Warmth that spread to every corner of her body. She swallowed hard, lifted her chin and met his eyes when he continued. “Colleen, if you’re thinking about turning down your inheritance because of what I said, then don’t.”

A cold breeze slipped beneath the partially open window and dissipated the warmth stealing through her. That was probably a good thing. “I admit, what you said has a lot to do with my decision. But mostly, I’m worried that other people might think the same thing.”

He pulled one hand from his pocket and slapped it down on the brass foot rail. “And that would bother you?”

Stunned, she said, “Of course it would bother me. It’s not true.”

“Then what do you care what anyone else thinks?”

Did he really not see what it would be like? Were the rich really so different from everyone else? “You probably don’t understand because you’re used to people talking about you. I mean, the Lassiters are always in the papers for something or other.”

“True,” he acknowledged.

“And as for you, the press loves following you around. They’re always printing stories about the black sheep billionaire.” She stopped abruptly when she caught his sudden frown. “I’m sorry, it’s just—”

“You seem to keep up with reports about me,” he said softly.

“It’s hard not to,” she lied, not wanting him to know that she really did look for stories about him in the paper and magazines—not to mention online. God, she was practically a stalker! “The Lassiter family is big news in Cheyenne.” She covered for herself nicely. “The local papers are always reporting about you and your family.”

He snorted. “Yeah, and I’m guessing the will is going to be front-page news as soon as someone leaks the details.”

Surprised, she asked, “Who would do that?”

“Any number of clerks in the law offices, I should think,” he said. “The right amount of money and people will do or say anything.”

“Wow...that’s cynical.”

“Just a dose of reality,” he said, his hand tightening around the brass rail until his knuckles whitened. “I used to think most people were loyal, with a sense of integrity. Then I found out differently.”

“What happened?” she asked, caught up in the glimmer of old pain and distant memories glittering in his eyes. The house was quiet, sunlight drifting in through the bedroom window, and it felt as though they were the only two people on the planet. Maybe that’s why she overstepped. Maybe that’s why she allowed herself to wonder about him aloud rather than just in her mind.