Rexanne Becnel (29 page)

“I can arrange for financial backing,” he said quietly.

“What?” Lacie stared at him as if he were mad. “You must think I’m a complete fool if you believe I trust one word you say!”

A muscle in his cheek tensed as he stared seriously at her. “We can prepare legally binding papers, if that will make you happy.”

That drew her up short, and for a moment she was speechless. He would help her start a school in Denver? But why? It made no sense whatsoever.

“I know you’re thinking I must have had too much to drink, but I assure you, Lacie, this is a well-considered proposal. You see, despite what you think, I really have no desire to fight you over Frederick’s estate. We both know the truth, and if it were to come out, you would be completely disgraced—not to mention penniless.”

“If this is another of your disgusting propositions, the answer is no!” she muttered, alarmed by how fast her pulse was racing. Although she wanted to attribute it to pure anger, she knew that a part of it was because of his implication that he still wanted her. No matter how she fought such a sinful desire, that knowledge nonetheless gave her an undeniable thrill.

“I think you may find what I have to say far from disgusting. Unless, of course, you’re opposed to marriage.”

At first Lacie wasn’t certain she had heard him correctly. But then he grinned a little crookedly at her, and she knew she wasn’t mistaken.

“Marriage?” she whispered, still stunned. “To—to who?” To me.

Lacie’s heart was in her throat, and she stared in amazement at him. This could not be happening. It couldn’t. A marriage proposal from him was not a possibility she had considered. Certainly it had not been a part of his plans up to now. And yet there he sat, smiling broadly at her, clearly amused by her shock but no less serious than before.

“If you’ll think about it, you’ll see that it’s completely logical,” he continued. “We both win. I’d regain control of my companies, and you’d get both the financial security you want and another school.”

“But—” her thoughts were too scattered to be quickly gathered. “But I already have a school.”

“It’s too far from here. Besides, as you already pointed out, Denver could use another good school. And people here can afford to pay the price.”

“But—but—” Lacie’s head was spinning as she tried to grasp the ramifications of his unexpected proposal. “But I can’t just abandon Sparrow Hill.”

“You’re not abandoning it,” he said smoothly, leaning forward more eagerly now. “You would just be moving it here.”

“Yes, but—” Lacie pressed her palms to her cheeks, trying to think clearly. Across the table Dillon watched her closely, awaiting her reply. He grinned at her, a blatantly sensual grin, beckoning and promising all sorts of rewards if she just answered him correctly. But Lacie closed her eyes to that overwhelming appeal of his. She couldn’t let herself be swayed by the irrational pull he exerted over her. She had to be careful. She had to be smart.

She took a slow breath in an attempt to calm herself. Then she looked back at him with dark, troubled eyes.

“I want to be sure—to be sure I understand,” she began haltingly. “If we marry, you will assume ownership of my portion of the companies. I would give up Sparrow Hill, and you would give me another school to occupy myself.” She paused and a frown creased her forehead. “In other words, you would get everything you wanted and I would get—” The frown deepened. “I would get nothing.”

“You would get another school.”

“But you would close Sparrow Hill. That’s what you’ve wanted from the very beginning.”

“You make it sound like I have something against that school. Dammit, I don’t. It’s just that it’s a losing proposition, Lacie. And it’s stupid to waste any more money on it.”

“It’s not stupid!” she cried. “It may never be a great moneymaker like your gold and silver mines, but that doesn’t mean it’s worthless!” She started to rise, but his hand on her arm prevented her from leaving.

“I think you’re overreacting. Can’t we discuss this matter more calmly?”

But Lacie knew that was impossible. Already the warmth of his casual touch was raising her temperature to a fever pitch. If she let him go on, he would melt all her resolve and destroy her ability to reason. Worse, she was sure he knew it and wasn’t above using such deplorable tactics.

With an effort she tore her arm from his grasp and pulled herself together.

“No doubt you can be calm about this,” she began coldly. “After all, it’s no more than a shrewd business merger you’re planning. You call it a marriage proposal, but it’s really just another underhanded attempt to get Frederick’s properties. Since I haven’t caved in to your other attempts, you’ve decided to marry me. Well”—she drew herself up as regally as she could—“I’m not interested.”

His expression was calm in the face of her refusal, but Lacie saw his eyes flicker and turn a dark, stormy green. She tried to find some pleasure in having finally put him in his place. He had probably never considered that she might refuse him. It was very likely that no woman ever had up to now. But she found no solace in her triumph. If only he’d spoken of love, she thought morosely, or even of respect and affection. Perhaps then she might have been unable to deny him. Perhaps then she would have said yes.

But he’d made it sound more a practical business deal than a proposal. She was already embroiled in an uncomfortable business deal with him. She didn’t need any more of the same.

It was a struggle to fight down the tears that rose in her eyes. All she wanted was to escape to her room and have a good cry. But Dillon was not ready to let her go.

“Don’t turn me down without thinking over the repercussions,” he said quietly.

“I think I already have,” she muttered as she rose and turned to leave.

“If there is a child, it deserves to have a father.”

Lacie whirled to face him then, her eyes filling with tears despite her best efforts to contain them. “I told you, there is no child!”

“You also said you wouldn’t tell me if there were.” He stood up and approached her, towering over her in the intimate dining alcove. “For all I know, you’re lying to me. You’ve done it before.”

Lacie could feel her heart pounding in her throat, beating so hard she was sure it would break. Dillon was so near, the heat of him, the subtle masculine scent of him seemed to envelop her, drawing her to him and weakening her resistance. She was trembling violently from the terrible emotions overwhelming her, unable to stop the two tears that spilled over her lashes.

“You’ve been no more honest than I have,” she whispered hoarsely. “All you’ve ever wanted is Frederick’s property, and I was only something in the way. Now you think you can marry me to get what you want and perhaps an heir to boot. Well, this is one time you’re not going to have your way.”

She faced him stiffly, trying hard not to show any weakness before him. He stood just a foot away, staring at her. Glaring, she thought, although for a moment she thought she saw a glimmer of contrition. But she quickly banished that silly notion. It was only that her vision was blurred by the tears building up in her eyes. Dillon didn’t feel sorry for what he’d done or said. He didn’t have it in him to see any way but his own.

She turned then to go but she was stopped by his one low, husky word.

“Lacie…”

It took everything she had to steel herself against the visceral pull of that simple entreaty. You can’t trust him, she told herself harshly. Haven’t you learned that after all that’s happened? He only wants what’s good for him, and he cares nothing at all for you.

She lifted her chin, although she kept her eyes trained on the fringed curtains and the public dining area beyond. “There is no child. And there will be no marriage.” Then she pushed past the curtain and hurried toward the stairs, blinded by the tears that fell full force now.

She didn’t see Dillon come out to watch her flight. She didn’t see the desk clerk’s concerned stare or notice any of the other hotel guests in the lobby. She had only one objective, and that was to get away from Dillon Lockwood before she fell completely to pieces.

R
AIN WAS BEATING A
tattoo against the windows when Lacie awoke. In hundreds of angry drumbeats, it pounded futilely against the multi-paned glass. It seemed at once both mournfully sad and frustratingly angry, she thought.

Just as she felt.

With a weary sigh Lacie rolled to her side and stared at the beautifully curtained window. She was warm and comfortable in here. The Denver Palace provided every creature comfort imaginable, yet oh, how she longed to be back in her old familiar room at Sparrow Hill! She closed her eyes, picturing the huge old house with its wide inviting porches framed by towering white columns. Right now it was probably enveloped by a misty ground fog and looked for all the world like a strange white ship adrift in a murky sea, just waiting for the sun to bring it safely into the light.

The rooster would be crowing, calling the hens out to begin their daily routine. Lacie stretched her legs and flexed her feet beneath the covers, imagining the feel of wet grass and fine gravel beneath her bare feet along the path that led to the chicken yard.

Yet her warm memories were no real comfort to her. She thought of the chicken yard—and saw Dillon standing beside the gate. She pictured the porch—but imagined Dillon waiting there. The barn, the dining room, even the library in the second-floor hall—everything there was now associated with Dillon Lockwood! He had somehow left his stamp on it all. Or else on her.

Lacie compressed her lips tightly. He had most definitely left a permanent stamp on her. It might have been a brand imprinted on her heart, marking her forever as belonging to him, it was so deep. Yet it was not her heart that he wanted. Everything but.

With a morose sigh Lacie tossed back the cover, then slowly swung her legs around and sat up. She was still tired. Last night’s confrontation with Dillon had been emotionally traumatizing, and once she had reached her room she had cried herself into exhaustion. Like a violent storm her emotions had battered her until, bruised and heartbroken, she had lain in the dark, drained and empty, unable to pretend she was strong enough to fight him anymore. All she wanted was to go home.

But there would be no comfort there either. As long as she maintained her deception, she would be connected to Dillon. And he would never give up until he got what he wanted.

Lacie rose from the bed and crossed to the window. The glass was cold against her brow as she leaned against it. Outside the world was gray and wet, and the clouds pressed down on the town as they let loose a steady stream of depressing rain. If only she could bury her woes beneath the covers and blot out the rain and this town. And Dillon Lockwood!

For a long while she stood at the window, staring blindly without, watching the erratic trickle of the drops running together down the glass. Like one of those little drops, she too was caught up in a torrent, unable to avoid being swept along on this path of no return. As much as she wished to flee, she could not. As desperate as she was to avoid Dillon and his heartless offer of marriage, she must nevertheless confront him again at the board meeting.

She turned away from the window at the thought of coming face to face with him once more. How would she be able to hold up during the long grueling hours of the meeting with him at the other end of the table staring at her, demanding things of her with his potent gaze? Her refusal was hardly likely to deter him from his single-minded goal. Indeed, knowing him as she did, she feared it would only encourage him. By turning him down, she had sent him a challenge he would not be able to ignore.

She shook her head in despair. What was she to do? Perhaps when he realized she wasn’t lying about a baby he would relent, she thought hopefully.

Lacie pressed her hand to her flat tummy. For one weak moment, she wondered how it would feel to have Dillon’s baby within her, to know something sweet and wonderful was growing deep inside her. She had never considered motherhood before, at least not seriously. Yet although she knew it was not the case, she couldn’t help but imagine it now.

Maybe things would be different if she were pregnant. Maybe they would be better, for at least she and Dillon would have some common ground. Unable to resist, she wondered what a child of theirs would look like. Green eyes or gray? Dark hair, of course. Dillon would prefer a boy, no doubt, but she had seen him with Nina, and it was obvious he could happily spoil a little girl of his own. She knew he would be a good father.

At that thought, she shook her head hard and jerked her hand away from her stomach. She was a fool to think such things. Dillon would be a terrible father and an even worse husband. He’d had a poor enough example in his own upbringing. As a result, he had grown up to be a cruel and calculating businessman. He wanted neither wife nor child and had only proposed to her because it was the easiest way to get what he wanted. Oh, but she was ten times a fool to be in love with him!

At least she could take solace that there had been no child resulting from that night….

That night.

That night she could not put out of her head, no matter how hard she tried, no matter how many times she reminded herself of his ulterior motives for every tender gesture and every passionate caress. Even when he had shown kindness, it had only been a part of his selfish plot, she recalled with brutal clarity.

Lacie dressed with haste. It was easier to push Dillon Lockwood out of her mind when she was busy, and she wasted no time in preparing for her coming confrontation. Yesterday she had been cool and elegant, even demure in her gray suit. But today the board’s polite hostility could very well erupt into open warfare. Today she would wear the new red and black basque that Mrs. Gunter had made to go with her slim-fitting skirt. Today she would not let Dillon Lockwood tear her emotions apart.

The lobby was quiet when she went downstairs. The desk clerk smiled respectfully as she hesitated at the bottom of the stairs. The only other person she saw was an early morning diner, smoking a cigar as he pored over a local newspaper.