He wasn’t the same man she’d met then—recently returned from combat in the Middle East, fighting the nightmares while maintaining a strong facade for the women in his family he’d spent a lifetime supporting.
Then one night he’d let her in, and he wished she’d never seen that side of him.
“Until we can get a good look inside and evaluate the damage, the mill is a huge security risk. So the Blackstones have asked me to oversee this initial part of the investigation.”
“I heard it was a bomb.”
He nodded. Yep. A bomb set off by a crazy man.
“Any suspects?”
It was a natural question. Simple curiosity. So why did his muscles tense when she asked?
“Yes, but that information is not being released to the public.”
The words came out in a more formal tone than he would have normally used, but it was all for the best. Keeping their distance meant keeping himself sane. Instead of leaning in to see if her hair smelled the same as it did before.
He did not need to know that.
He eyed the bright waves dancing around her shoulders. He definitely didn’t need to know.
“So it would be better to stay away from there right now.” And away from me, so all these emotions will respond to my control. “Wait until we can guarantee it’s safe.”
“In the parking lot?”
“Right.” He didn’t care if she wasn’t buying it. A man had to do...
Suddenly realizing he’d accomplished nothing but torturing himself during this visit, he stalked back to the door. Unfortunately, she followed, until she was within arm’s reach. He was too far away from the door to escape.
It all flooded back—all the memories he’d struggled to hold at bay since that first moment he’d seen her again at the mill. The way his heart pounded when she laughed. The way her soft voice soothed his nerves as she told him a story. The way his body rose to meet the demands of hers.
So many things he couldn’t force himself to forget.
But he could force himself to walk away this time. “I’ll be seeing you, Sadie,” he said, as casually as he could.
She pulled the door open and smiled. “Definitely.”
Something about her tone, that confident edge, ruffled him, pushed him to throw her off balance. He couldn’t stop himself. He stopped in front of her, bending in low to place his mouth near her ear. He sucked in a deep breath. “So...” he said, letting the word stretch, “aren’t you gonna tell me why you really left?”
Her gasp left him satisfied...for now.
Sadie’s entire body instantly snapped to attention. She might not have moved, but every nerve ending was now awake and focused on the man before her.
She hadn’t thought he’d directly address her leaving. Indeed, he’d seemed to do everything but ask the all-important question: Why? She’d thought she was prepared. Her flippant answer rattled around in her brain for a moment, but she couldn’t force it out.
Instead she stared up into his brooding dark eyes and lost her breath. She’d known she would hurt him, leaving like that. He’d never tell her so, but she couldn’t help but wonder if it were true from his somber gaze.
His body seemed to sway a little closer, and her mouth watered at the thought of his lips on hers once more. Then the trill of her phone broke the moment of silence.
Suddenly he was back to arm’s length, leaving her to wonder if she’d imagined that moment. Wished it into being.
His eyes grew wider, reminding her that her phone was still ringing. She ignored both him and the phone. Her mother called late in the evening, when her duties for the day were done. Only one person would be calling her at this time of day, and she wasn’t about to speak to him in front of Zach.
Her heart pounded. She licked her lips, trying to think of something to say.
Instead of waiting for an answer, Zach gave a quick smirk and then walked out the door without another word. She waited until he was down the stairs and out of sight before pushing the door closed. Then she dissolved against it like melting sugar.
Tears welled, along with the wish that things didn’t have to be this way. She quickly brushed both away. Her life had been one long lesson in dealing with reality, not dreaming of fairy tales.
At least he hadn’t forgotten her.
Forcing herself to her feet, she crossed to the sitting area and picked her phone up off the low table. The very name she expected flashed across the screen. She sucked in a deep, bracing breath, then touched the screen to call him back.
“I’m listening.”
She hated when he answered the phone like that. The part of her that rebelled against what she had to do forced her to hold her words just a minute longer than necessary, garnering some petty satisfaction from making him wait.
“What do you need, Victor?” she asked.
“Ah, Adams. Where were you?”
The impersonal use of her last name grated on her nerves, but she was, after all, simply a servant. “Away from my phone.”
“Don’t get uppity with me, Adams. Just because you’re hundreds of miles away from Texas doesn’t mean you’re off the leash.”
Right. Remind her of the dog she was—that would make her work harder. But it was an apt description—she was a hunting dog. Sent to search for and fetch exactly what her owner wanted.
“I apologize,” she said, hoping he couldn’t tell her teeth were gritted. “But I didn’t think you wanted me to answer the phone and give you an update in front of Zachary.”
“Very good, Adams. I knew I could trust your judgment.”
As if it had been all his idea. If Victor Beddingfield had an original idea ever in his life, she’d be shocked. Of course, this little expedition was his idea—and here she was. But the idea wasn’t original to him. His father had tried it first.
“So you’ve already made contact? Good girl.”
Yep, she was definitely a dog to him. “I have, but he’s not happy about it.”
“You simply have to make him like it. You know how to do that...don’t you?”
She wished to goodness Victor had never found out the truth about her last visit to Black Hills. Not that he cared about her choice to deceive his father, telling him that Zachary couldn’t possibly be the son he sought. The longer Zach had been out of his life, the more of their father’s money Victor could spend. Still, the knowledge had given him a weapon to use against her—but not the biggest one.
“This might take some time.” Although, even if she had all the time in the world, Zach would probably never forgive her—then or now.
“Well, we don’t have time, remember?” he said, his voice deepening in a way she perceived as a threat. “I need money. Now. And I’m sure you do, too—or rather, your sister does.”
Not really. Amber didn’t worry about that sort of thing. The hospital treated her cancer, that was all she knew. It was all Sadie wanted her sister to know. The practical aspect—bills, scheduling, medical decisions—all of that was handled by Sadie. Some days, it was enough to make her feel like she was drowning, but she did it anyway. It kept her sister