Page 35 of A Jilted Bride for the Cowboy

He couldn’t do it.

But he also couldn’t abandon her to the wolves. “Cadence?”

Her gaze flew to meet his. “Yes?”

“I’m needed back in the office. Please come find me when you’re ready.” Ready for what? Graham couldn’t have said. Then he nodded stiffly at Cadence’s father. “I assume you’ve checked in? Dinner will be served in the dining room shortly. We have an excellent chef. I’m sure you won’t be disappointed.”

Graham kept his cool and nodded at Paul, managing not to walk over and slug the guy. He knew how that would go down. Paul had muscles where Graham had nothing. Being tossed into the pool would seem like mercy compared to being punched.

He measured his strides to the door and down the corridor and didn’t dare breathe until he entered the great room. Then he sagged into the nearest leather chair, took off his glasses, and rubbed his face in his hands.

Had he done the right thing?

How was a guy supposed to know? No one was going to hurt Cadence, not in the lodge. They weren’t going to kidnap her and force her to return to Chicago. Was he absolutely certain of that? Fairly. At least in the short term. They were still trying to appeal to Cadence’s sense of family loyalty.

Her parents didn’t deserve her allegiance. Not if they were using her the way it sounded like. None of them loved Cadence the way she deserved. Not her parents. For sure not Paul.

But what did Graham know of love? His parents remained together simply because it was too much hassle and expense to separate. They knew they were stronger together, and the value of that unified front overrode everything else.

Look at Uncle James and Aunt Maribel. They’d divorced years ago because Sullivan Enterprises drove a wedge between them. But it also kept them together, because neither had given up their positions within the family company.

Money — and the love of it — did that to people. It drove Uncle Donald and Aunt Frances. It definitely drove their son, Paul. It was driving the Fosters.

Did it drive Graham?

He wouldn’t have thought so, but now he wondered.

Who would he be without the Sullivan money? Without the Sullivan name? Without the Sullivan position?

Graham would be an average awkward accountant, earning a fraction of what he made now. Could he be happy that way? Would it be easier to find love if ginormous dollar signs didn’t dominate the landscape and blind everyone?

He didn’t want to find love with some random woman. He only wanted Cadence. He should go back in there, put his arm around her, and face the wolves beside her.

Movement behind him and to the side caught his eye.

Cadence strode through the place, head held high, eyes not seeking his. Behind her trailed her parents and then Paul.

Smug, cocky Paul, whose gaze latched onto Graham’s unerringly. The guy smirked at him.

Graham balled his hands into fists and forced his butt to remain in the armchair until the entourage had passed.

Should he go find Cadence? But she hadn’t even looked his way. Who was he to think she’d appreciate his interference now?

Wasn’t there a gym down the north corridor for guests’ use?

He’d heard working out was a great stress reliever. And, wow, could he ever use a vent at the moment.

It would have to be later. Now he had to stand by in case Cadence needed him. But how would he know?

Chapter Ten

Paisley jumped to her feet when Cadence entered the duplex hours later. “Weston said you took a horse out tonight.”

“Yep.” And she was still in no mood to talk about it, not that her roommate knew the definition of personal space or private thoughts.

“Which one did you ride?”

Cadence blinked. “Enchantment. He’s a bit of a handful, but that was good. Gave me something to focus on.” Drat, she’d given Paisley ammunition.

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