“You have a better reason?”
He stared at her flushed face, moist pink lips, and tangled hair. She was angry and utterly enchanting. In all his life, he’d never met a woman like her.
She was driving him crazy. If he didn’t get out of there, he was going to kiss her again, just on principle.
“No. Not one good reason,” he snarled, turning on his heel and walking out of the room.
“I’m going home and telling Abram that none of you deserves to be CEO!” she called out, stalking him
down the hall. “I’m going to tell him you should all be written out of his will, too. He should leave his money to charity!”
Sam stepped into the elevator, then turned to face the irate woman standing in the halclass="underline" torn dress, wild hair, and barefoot. “Go to bed, Willamina. I’m not going to kiss you again, so stop chasing me down the hall.”
The elevator door closed on her shriek. Sam walked to the glass wall so he could watch her stomp back down the open hall, and he broke into booming laughter when she tried to open the door to her room. He’d have to send someone up to rescue her; her key card was on her bed. She turned and caught sight of him laughing at her as the elevator carried him down. Sam’s eyes widened at the gesture she shot him before she started banging on her door. Sam keeled over in laughter. The woman needed a keeper.
Chapter Four
It took every bitof willpower Willa possessed to get out of bed the next morning. Muscles she’d forgotten she had were complaining, her head felt as if a channel buoy was clanging inside it, and even her teeth hurt.
The hot shower helped. Sliding into old soft jeans felt heavenly. Leaving off her bra and pulling on a fluffy sweatshirt was especially comfy, and her worn-in sneakers were balm to her abused feet. Feeling older than her geriatric workers, she tried to walk the stiffness out of her muscles by pacing her hotel room. While she walked—and groaned—Willa pondered her predicament. She’d come there to make a choice that was impossible. As Abram had said, they were all capable. She couldn’t find one outstanding difference that that would tell her how to vote. Even Sam, the kissing fool.
She shouldn’t have kissed him back, but her hormones had gone into full riot at the touch of his lips. She’d fought them valiantly but had lost the battle when Sam’s heat had slowly permeated her body. When she’d come to her senses, he’d smiled at her like some triumphant pirate. The jerk. He’d kissed her just to prove that he could get a response.
She should pack what was left of her suitcase, get on a plane this morning, and go back toMaine . And the minute she got home, she would give Abram Sinclair a piece of her mind, then tell him to go find a cave to die in if he was too stubborn to go home where he belonged. He had no right involving her in his personal affairs.
Willa picked up the phone to book a flight just as someone knocked on her door.
Sam leaned his forehead on the hotel door and knocked again. Damn, he hated to be there. He even hated life itself today.
The door opened, and he straightened, only to go still at the sight of Willamina Kent . She looked…different.Normal . Even beautiful—until she turned frantic when she saw his face.
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
Sam stepped into her room, forcing her to step back.
“Is it Abram?”
Sam could only nod.
“Oh!” she cried, whirling toward her bed. “I’ve got to go to him. I promised to be there. I’ve got to go now .”
“Willamina. Willa.”
“He promised he’d wait for me to get back,” she wailed, throwing her battered bag onto the bed and tossing her clothes into it. She swept past him, going into the bathroom and cramming her cosmetics into a pouch.
“Willa.”
She came out and bumped into him, her eyes dark with anguish. “I’ll be with him, Sam. I know you want to be, but I promise, I’ll be with him,” she vowed fiercely.
He said her name again, but she was desperately trying to close her suitcase. The zipper was torn beyond use. “Help me,” she pleaded, her face hidden by her hair, tears falling in splotches onto the suitcase.
Sam pulled off his belt, gently pushed her aside, and wrapped it around the overnight bag to cinch it closed. He picked it up and carried it out of the room. “Don’t forget your purse.”
She grabbed her large purse and went out ahead of him, all but running to the elevator. In silence, they rode down to the street, where Ronald was waiting. Sam gave him the suitcase and opened the back door for Willa, handing her in.
“Can I take your helicopter to the airport? I need to hurry, Sam.”
“That won’t be necessary.”
“Is he at my cottage or in the hospital? Do you know?”
“He was at the hospital,” he answered stonily.
Ronald got in and started them on their way. Sam turned to Willa and stared at her hands, which she was wringing.
“Willa—”
“His timing stinks. He was supposed to wait for me to get back,” she whispered without looking up.
“That was the deal. If he wouldn’t let the three of you be with him, he promised me I could.” She looked
up suddenly. “No one should be alone, Sam. No matter what, Abram shouldn’t be alone.”
“He wasn’t.”
“He’s made friends of my workers,” she told him. “They’ll stay with him until I get there.”
“They did. Bram wasn’t alone.”
“You mean isn’t .”
“Willa,” Sam said, putting his arm over her shoulder, “Abram died early this morning.”
Every drop of blood drained from her face as she looked up at him with wide eyes. Huge tears suddenly spilled down over her cheeks, then she snapped her head down and hid behind the curtain of her hair. With his own groan of agony, Sam pulled her to him, pressing her wet, hot face against his chest.
“I was supposed to be there. That was the deal,” she cried into his shirt. “He promised .”
“Bram loved you, Willa. He wasn’t about to let you see him die, any more than us, honey,” Sam crooned hoarsely, rubbing her back. “He was a proud man.”
“But he only knew me for six weeks. I’m a stranger to him. It was going to be okay for me to be there.”
“I imagine Bram fell in love with you the moment he met you,” Sam told her as he stared straight ahead, resting his chin on her hair. “No matter what you thought, he wouldn’t have let you be there. It’s almost as if he timed this.”
She lifted her tear-soaked face, looking up at him with pained eyes. “What happened?”
“He had a heart attack yesterday afternoon, Spencer said.”
“I know Spencer. He visited Abram several times.”
“He’s been Bram’s lawyer for forty years. Spencer called this morning.”
“He’s inMaine ?”
“Yes. The doctor contacted him yesterday. Bram had left instructions with one of your workers.”
“W-was Spencer there this morning? When…when…”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
She rested her head against Sam’s chest and gave another harsh sob. He wrapped her tightly in his embrace, and they rode in silence. Finally, she spoke again without lifting her head. “I should probably see to the arrangements. He had things worked out with a local funeral home to prepare him to ship here. His casket’s already there.” She raised her head and looked at him. “I-I’d like to come back for the funeral.”
“Everything’s being taken care of, Willa. That’s what Spencer is doing now. Bram will be here tomorrow morning. He’ll lie in state at Rosebriar, then be buried in the family cemetery on the grounds, next to Rose and his sons.”
“Oh.” She tried to wriggle away from him.
Sam held her in place. “I’m taking you to Rosebriar now,” he said, lifting her chin to look at him. “It’s up inConnecticut .”
“I can stay at a nearby hotel.”
“No. Bram wanted you at Rosebriar.”
“I’m not family, and I don’t belong there.”