Page 23 of Megan's Mate
She laughed again. “Which one of them?”
“Oh, all of them.” Grinning, he sat on the low wall, drew her down beside him. “They’ve always been... remarkable. Holt had this thing for Suzanna, though he wouldn’t admit it. Being as he was my friend, I selflessly crossed her off my list. That left three for me after I conquered that dragon.”
“But you never did face the dragon?”
A shadow passed over his face. “I had another to deal with. I guess you could say we left it at a draw, and I went to sea.” He shook off the mood, and the uncomfortable past. “But I did have a brief and memorable interlude with the lovely Lilah.”
Megan’s eyes widened. “You and Lilah?”
“Right before I left the island. She set out to drive me crazy. I think she was practicing.” He sighed at the memory. “She was damn good at it.”
But they were so easy with each other, Megan thought. So relaxed and friendly.
“You’re so easy to read, Meg.” He chuckled and slipped his arm around her shoulders. “We weren’t exactly Romeo and Juliet. I kissed her a few times, did my damnedest to convince her to do more. She didn’t. And she didn’t break my heart. Well, dented it a little, maybe,” he mused.
“And Max isn’t bothered?”
“Why would he be? He’s got her. If we’d had a flaming affair—which we didn’t—it would be a smoldering matchstick compared to what they’ve got.”
He was right there. Each of the Calhoun women had found her match. “Still, it’s interesting,” she said quietly. “All these connections within connections.”
“Are you thinking of me, or yourself?”
She stiffened, abruptly aware that she was sitting hip to hip with him, his arm around her. “That’s not something I care to discuss.”
“Still raw?” He tightened his arm, comforting. “From what I’ve heard of Dumont, I wouldn’t think he’d be worth it. Settle down,” he said when she jerked away. “We’ll let it go. Too nice a night to uncover old wounds. Why don’t you tell me how they talked you into taking on that old account book?”
“How do you know about that?”
“Holt and Suzanna filled me in.” She was still rigid, he noted. But she wasn’t running. “I saw them before they left.”
She relaxed a little. It was comforting to discuss it with someone else who was just that small step outside the family. “I don’t know how they talked me into it. I barely opened my mouth.”
“Your first mistake.”
She huffed out a breath. “I’d have had to shout to be heard. I don’t know why they call it a meeting, when all they do is argue.” Her brows knit. “Then they stop arguing, and you realize you’ve been sucked in. If you try to pull yourself out, you find they’ve united in this solid wall that’s impossible to beat.”
“I know just what you mean. I still don’t know if it was my idea to go into business with Holt. The notion came up, was debated, voted on and approved. The next thing I knew, I was signing papers.”
Interesting, she mused and studied his strong profile. “You don’t strike me as someone who could be talked into anything.”
“I could say the same.”
She considered a moment then gave up. “You’re right. The book’s fascinating. I can hardly wait to get at it.”
“I hope you’re not planning on letting it take up all your free time.” He toyed with the ends of her blowing hair. No, not red, he mused. It was gold, enriched by quiet fire. “I want some of it.”
Cautiously she inched away. “I explained to you, I’m not interested.”
“What you are is worried because you are interested.” He cupped a hand under her chin and turned her to face him. “I figure you had a rough time, and maybe it’s helped you cope to lump all men in with the bastard who hurt you. That’s why I said I’d be patient.”
Fury flared in her eyes. “Don’t tell me what I am or how I’ve coped. I’m not asking for your understanding or your patience.”
“Okay.”
He crushed his mouth to hers, without any patience at all. His lips were demanding, urgent, irresistible, conquering hers before she could draw the breath to deny it.
The embers that had smoldered inside her since the first time he’d kissed her burst into reckless flame. She wanted—craved—this flash point of feeling, this fireball of sensation. Hating herself for the weakness, she let herself burn.
