Page 96 of Pretend To Be My Cowboy
Patrick opened his mouth as if to protest, but she wasn’t done.
“And you can’t marry your way into it.”
His mouth snapped shut. Some of that self-righteous anger sputtered slightly at the flicker of guilt in his eyes.
“I’m sorry about that,” he muttered gruffly. “I never would have pushed him to do something like that if I didn’t think he honestly cared for you. But I saw the way my son looked at you and I...I…”
He shrugged as if at a loss for how to finish.
To his credit, she saw shame in his eyes.
Emma never had much of a temper and she could feel her anger melting despite her best attempts to cling to it. Anger was so much easier than hurt. She wet her lips and took a deep breath.
“Well, you were wrong,” she said simply. She wasn’t about to explain to this man how it had all been for show.
He didn’t deserve her explanations, and it wasn’t her place. This was Nash’s father. If anyone ought to explain, it was her fake boyfriend.
She took a deep breath and said a silent prayer asking for the strength that she so badly needed to make it through this conversation and this day. “Nash is never going to ask me to marry him,” she said. She managed to get the words out, despite the fact that they felt like daggers scraping her chest and throat on the way out.
But it was time to face facts. To speak the truth, even if it hurt.
Patrick was frowning at her again, and this time she was almost certain his concern was genuine.
It was that concern that had her voice wobbling when she continued. “But even if I was lucky enough to have him ask for my hand, the property still wouldn’t be yours. It’s O’Sullivan land, and it will never belong to a Donahue.”
31
Nash stood frozen in the corridor, tucked out of sight, but able to see and hear everything. His chest swelled with pride at Emma’s calm but forceful pronouncement.
But that pride was nothing compared to the other emotion that hit him like a tidal wave.
Even if I was lucky enough to have him ask for my hand…
Did she mean it?
His heart slammed in his chest as his gaze took in the sight before him with new eyes. His Emma. So sweet. So kind.
She’d been right, she didn’t need his protection.
He watched Emma’s lower lip quiver with emotion, but her shoulders were back and she was facing down his father in a way he rarely had. The way he should have done when he’d first realized just how obsessed his father had become with possessing the O’Sullivan land.
“Now, Emma,” his father said, his voice taking on a patronizing tone that made Nash wince.
“No. Don’t you ‘now Emma’ me,” she said, steel in her voice and in her spine.
Nash fought the urge to intervene on her behalf. She didn’t need him to, and he had a hunch this was something she had to do for herself.
“My offer would be more than fair,” his father continued, not seeming to understand that the more he fought, the more she’d dig her heels in.
Emma might be generous to a fault, but it was obvious she was no pushover, and it was about time his father realized that.
“I’m sure it would be,” she said. “And if my family decides to sell, we’ll takealloffers into consideration. But, I have to be honest, I’m not certain we will sell.” She nodded as if confirming this to herself.
Nash studied her face, trying to read the emotions there.
“If we do, who we sell to will be up to my sisters and me,” she continued. “No one else. And I assure you, Patrick, the more you try to push and cajole, the more you try to manipulate my feelings for your son, for your own gain, the more I am absolutely certain we won’t entertain any offer from you, no matter how good the price.”
“Well, I...I…”
