Rachel Brimble - What Belongs to Her

He nodded stiffly before storming toward the office. Sasha remained welded to the grass. When he was out of sight, she released her held breath and slumped. Now what? She didn’t want to be alone with him. That had never been part of the bargain. The frustration in his eyes from a moment before seeped into her conscience and lingered there, screaming with warning.

She sensed a pain as deep as hers in John...and that scared her. It took all her energy to fight the demons of her past and keep moving forward each day. She didn’t need the pull of caring about someone else. Especially not Kyle’s son, when it was Kyle who had unwittingly stopped her from bringing closure to her pain. Stopped her from winning a fifteen-year-old battle with Matt Davidson, the man who’d brought an end to her short-lived childhood.

She closed her eyes and her molester’s face taunted her from behind closed lids. In a single summer, his actions had tainted the fair and tarnished what Sasha held dear. Well, sooner or later she’d make it hers and she’d make it a good, clean place for all its future visitors. She’d make it a magical, fun-filled adventure, as it had been before him, before everything he made her do.

Opening her eyes, Sasha exhaled a shaky breath and strode toward the office.

CHAPTER FIVE

SASHA FOLLOWED JOHN into the graveled parking lot outside the Funland gates with her chin high and her decorum well and truly restored. She’d grabbed her bag from the office while John gave a glowering Freddy a few instructions. The lack of information about their intended destination had infuriated her equally as much as a spitting and angry Freddy.

Her gaze wandered and then stuck to John’s back as he marched ahead of her to his car. The temperature had risen and hovered at a pleasant eighty degrees. He’d removed his jacket and his broad, muscular back and strong shoulders shifted rhythmically beneath cotton as he strode forward. The guy’s butt didn’t look any worse in trousers than it did in denim—which initiated another tug on her already fraught nerves. Nerves that seemed constantly pooled in her damn panties.

He stopped beside a metallic blue Mercedes convertible and pointed his keys. Sasha stared in awed fascination as the roof slowly rolled backward into the open trunk with smooth, expensive precision. The cost of his car alone would probably keep her in rent payments for the remainder of the decade. She lifted her chin higher. His wealth wouldn’t intimidate her. No doubt Kyle had kept his son well-cared for over the years. There was no pride in handouts as far as she was concerned.

When he walked to the passenger side rather than the driver’s, her gait faltered. What was he doing? He opened the door and waved toward the seat. Sasha narrowed her eyes. If he thought a show of old-fashioned gallantry would penetrate her immovable anger, he’d better think again.

Yeah? So why are your cheeks hot and your stomach flying into a frenzy?

Forcing her eyes to his, she smiled. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

She slid onto butter-soft leather, and the door closed with a gentle, moneyed clunk. He walked around the hood and slipped on a pair of dark sunglasses. “So...” He turned on the ignition and the car purred to life. “Where are we headed first?”

Deciding she needed to up her game, Sasha pulled on her femme-fatale persona and faced him. Whether or not she was letting down the entire female population, she had to at least attempt to get John off his damn sexy winning streak. She was seriously lagging behind and it rankled. Her defense was to always be in the lead as far as sex was concerned. It was vital. If she gave up a modicum of trust, things could get out of her control very quickly.

“Why don’t we hit the town center first?” She smiled softly and looked at him from beneath lowered lashes. “I’m sure we’ll bump into plenty of people I can introduce you to there.”

He hesitated, a slight frown creasing his forehead. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“Only you’ve got a strange look in your eye.”

Hah! She lifted an eyebrow. “Am I making you uncomfortable?”

“No, just concerned. You look as though you’re sitting on something painful.”

Her smile dissolved, and she shot him a glare before slumping back into her seat. “Just drive, will you?”

He threw the car into gear, and they left the parking lot. Sasha glanced at him from the corner of her eye. He wore the biggest smile known to man, yet instead of it annoying her, it made her want to smile, too.

“We’re quite a pair, aren’t we?” He grinned.

Wishing she could see his eyes and have at least a moderate idea of what he was thinking, she blew out a breath. “Meaning?”

“Well, we haven’t stopped arguing or trying to outdo each other since we met.”

“I’m not trying to outdo you. I’m trying to figure you out.”

He glanced at her, one dark eyebrow rising above his sunglasses. “And what conclusions have you jumped to?”

She scowled. “Who says I’ve jumped? Maybe my conclusions are spot-on.”

He faced front. “Care to share them with me?”

Inexplicable nerves knotted her stomach as his smile vanished and his brow furrowed. It was pointless trying to deny how much more attractive she found the laughing, smiling John to the quiet, dangerous one.

She cleared her throat and focused on the road ahead. “I might be wrong, but I get the impression you’re in Templeton under duress.”

Silence.

She pressed on. “Am I right?”

He maneuvered the car through the traffic, his jaw tight.

When it was clear he wasn’t going to provide an answer, Sasha’s palms turned unusually clammy. “So, you’re not going to tell me how you’ve found yourself in this unfortunate situation?”

“I don’t know if it’s unfortunate yet.”

Curiosity sparked like a flint inside her. “I would’ve thought you’d have come to that decision upon our first meeting. I wasn’t exactly welcoming. And then the decidedly chilly phone call...followed by this morning’s fun and games—”

“Where you attempted a full-on assassination.” He glanced at her. “There’s nothing you or anyone else in this town could do that would be worse than what Kyle’s done. Don’t worry about your hostility toward me since I arrived...I’m not.”

A strange sensation skittered through her chest at his clear dismissal of her actions...and her. Cursing the heat that struck her chest and face, she looked to the side at the passing facades of the pretty, pastel-painted Victorian houses turned bed-and-breakfasts. She blinked against the frustration burning her eyes. “Great, well, that’s good. If there’s any chance of this working out, we need to get along.”

“You don’t want this to work out.”

She snapped her head around. “What?”

“Didn’t you say you have an offer for me? For the fair? That means you want me out of here ASAP.”

Sasha glared, wishing for a second time he’d remove his stupid glasses. Moreover, she wished they weren’t driving this fancy bloody car with him in the actual, and metaphorical, driver’s seat. “Yeah, and God willing, you want the same.”

“I don’t know what I want yet, so don’t hold your breath.”

Sasha curled her hands tighter around the straps of her bag in her lap. Her passion for the fair was so deeply seated no one but her grandfather and her best friend, Leah, could possibly understand what John Jordon’s presence did to her.

The man confused her. Gave her zero to work with...or on. She had to figure out a way to break through his ice-cold veneer whenever they talked about Kyle. She’d made him smile a few times, which was one thing, but clearly anything to do with his father sparked a livid anger she’d be hard-pressed to break.