The Last Real Cowboy. DONNA ALWARDЧитать онлайн книгу.
as Morris goes, maybe I am a bleeding heart because I can’t stand to see another creature abused. And if he’s a little leery of men, he has good reason. I consider him a fine judge of character!”
Sam’s dark eyes flared. “A fine judge of …” He made a sound like air whistling out of a tube. Morris howled again. “You know nothing about me. Nothing.”
“I know you’re a big bully who thinks I’ll dance to his tune because I need his money. But I won’t pander to you like Charles Spring and the others on the board. You can threaten, you can take funding away. Go for it. Because I would rather that than me betray all Butterfly House stands for by letting myself be pushed around by the likes of you.” She finished the speech out of breath.
“Without the funding, this place never opens.”
“Don’t be so sure.” Several times today she’d allowed Sam Diamond to mess with her confidence. But she was done with that. She’d faced worse than Sam Diamond over the years and come through with flying colors. Besides, she had an ace in the hole. She knew Molly Diamond was dedicated to this project. Molly believed in it and in her.
“You think I haven’t faced adversity before?” She pressed her hand to her collarbone, felt her heart pounding against her fingertips. “I’m stronger and more resourceful than you think. So go for it. Pull the funding.”
She wasn’t sure what made her dare him to do such a thing when they clearly pushed each other’s buttons so completely and quickly. That had only happened to her once before when she’d been seventeen and so very vulnerable. She’d fallen for Steven in record time and found herself smack in the middle of a volatile relationship. Her mother had taken one look at Angela’s face and said quietly, “Passion burns as hot as anger, dear.” But that wasn’t the kind of passion Angela ever wanted, and her parents certainly hadn’t set a shining example for her to follow.
It took everything she had to stand toe-to-toe with Sam Diamond now without cowering. And yet, as she looked into his handsome face, she somehow knew that she wasn’t being entirely fair. She was making connections, assumptions without basis. All through her career she’d worked very hard to be objective. She’d had to be.
So Sam Diamond shouldn’t be any different. But he was. And she admitted to herself that he had been from the moment he’d sauntered over and spoken to her in his slow, sexy voice at the benefit. Nerve endings had shimmered just at his nearness. He posed a different threat than physical fear. And that threat came from inside herself and her own weaknesses.
He hooked his thumbs into his pockets. “I’m not going to pull the funding. The Diamond family made a commitment, and we honor our commitments despite what some may think.”
The tension in the room seemed to settle slightly, no longer at a fever pitch amplified by sharp words.
“I appreciate that.”
He took a step closer and her heart started a different sort of thrumming. Earlier she’d taken great care to make sure she didn’t touch him as they passed in the crowded hallway. She stood her ground. She didn’t want him to know she was afraid. Goodness, she was a strong, capable, resourceful woman. It was ridiculous that one person could make her forget all of that just by breathing. She tried to remember what it was that Amy had said. That Sam Diamond took what he wanted until he was done and then he tossed it away like yesterday’s garbage. Amy’s words were completely opposite from Sam’s pledge, so which should she believe?
“You’re tired,” he noted, and to her shock he lifted his hand and ran his thumb along the top of her cheekbone. She knew there were dark circles beneath her eyes. Makeup had concealed it for most of the day, but it was growing late and as the makeup faded, her fatigue came to the surface.
But more than that—he was touching her. She flinched slightly at the presumptuous yet gentle touch, but he didn’t seem to notice. His thumb was large, strong and just a little rough. She was tempted to lean in to the strength of his hand for just a minute, but she held her face perfectly still instead as her insides quivered with a blend of attraction and fear. “I’ve been putting in long days,” she breathed. “There’s a lot to do.”
“I won’t keep you, then,” he replied, dropping his hand. She missed the warmth of his thumb and took a step backward, shocked at her response. No one ever touched her. Ever. And certainly not in such an intimate way.
“I’m sorry about Morris. He’s a very naughty cat. Did he get you very badly?”
And then it happened. Angela saw the barest hint of a smile touch his lips. Not the smooth, charming grin from this afternoon. A conspiratorial upturning of his lips that Angela couldn’t resist. It sneaked past all her misgivings and lit something inside her. She found herself smiling in return and chuckling. He joined in, the warm sound filling the kitchen.
Angela sighed as the laughter faded, looked over at Sam’s face, now holding a spot of devilishness that made her understand why the women of this town all swooned in his presence.
“I’ll live,” he said, the earlier hostility gone. “It was more of a surprise, really.” He lifted an eyebrow. “Just as well I have a tough skin. Maybe he smelled our dog or something. Buster has a way of putting cats on edge.”
Was he teasing her now? The idea made an unfamiliar warmth curl through her. She had to admit, knowing he was a pet owner added to his appeal. She had a momentary image of Sam on a huge horse with a dog following at their heels….
Dangerous. And trouble. At the very least, Amy had that part right.
“Don’t take it personally,” she offered weakly. “It’s not you …”
“If you say so.”
“I couldn’t just leave him,” she continued, not knowing why it was important that Sam understand about her cat but feeling compelled just the same. Another meow sounded behind the door. “He was hurt, and just a baby.”
Sam’s face was inscrutable. “Do I strike you as the kind of man who kicks puppies, Ms. Beck?”
Did he? Lord, no. He might use charm as a weapon, and he might have a ruthless streak—that single-mindedness he’d mentioned—but she found it hard to believe he’d be deliberately cruel. There was something about the way he’d touched her face …
She shook her head, not quite trusting her judgment.
“Well, that’s something, then.”
He turned to walk down the hall, back toward the front door, around the bags of home-renovation supplies and paint and everything else that would take up all her waking moments for the next several days. Perhaps weeks.
Maybe she could sweet-talk someone local into donating their time. School would be out for summer soon. Maybe a couple of students at loose ends … There was so much to do before the open house. The logistics of organizing that alone were taking up so much time and energy, and she’d already drafted the press release and sent it out….
The press release. The media was going to expect to see Molly at that, too. New nerves tangled as she thought of dealing with the press alone. She looked up at Sam. Getting more from him would be like getting blood from a stone. She’d figure something out. She had a little bit of time.
“I’d better let you get back to your dinner,” he said, putting his hand on the doorknob.
Her dinner. The tasteless glazed chicken that she’d popped in the microwave in lieu of a real meal.
“I trust that I’ll see you next month at the board meeting, then?”
His hat shadowed his eyes in the dim light of the foyer, so when he nodded briefly Angela couldn’t read his expression. Something between them hesitated, seemed to keep him from opening the door, made it feel that there was more to her question than she’d voiced—and more to his answer.
When she finally thought he must be able to hear her heart beating through her chest, he opened the door. Angela let out