His Black Sheep Bride (Aristocratic Grooms 1)
Tamara almost laughed. True, Sawyer had a surprisingly passionate side, but he was also a ruthless and calculating operator of the first order.
Much like her father.
“You always accused me of putting Kincaid News first, and that may be so. But Sawyer is a different breed, or at least he’s become different.” Her father shot her a piercing look. “This isn’t about business. Quite clearly he values something else more these days.”
“All the evidence is to the contrary,” she replied bitterly. “Especially now that victory is in his grasp. In a few short months, he’ll be a father.”
The minute the words were out of her mouth, Tamara clamped her lips shut.
“Ah, I see,” her father said, a twinkle in his eyes. “May I extend my heartiest felicitations?”
“Sawyer didn’t tell you?”
Her father shook his head. “No. I imagine he wanted to protect you from further upset.”
Her gut twisted. “I suppose making me pregnant is quite enough.”
“Sawyer is refusing to go ahead with the merger,” her father announced. “Only you can get him to see sense and change his mind.”
Tamara’s heart clenched. Sawyer was refusing to proceed with the merger? She couldn’t fathom it, even as her heart whispered that it was because of her. Because he cared.
Still, she steeled herself—she’d been hurt and betrayed too much already. “Do you really expect me to care?”
Her father scrutinized her face. “I believe you do care, whether you want to or not.”
She sniffed. “It’ll pass.”
Her father grasped the arms of his chair and rose. “If you felt that way about him, you wouldn’t be pregnant in the first place.”
Tamara opened and closed her mouth.
Her father gave her a little smile. “Perhaps you’ve met your match.” Then he leaned over and peered at the jewelry she had on display inside a glass case. “Your craftsmanship is quite superb. I imagine that with someone at your side handling the business angle, you’ll have no problem becoming exactly who you want to be.”
“Oh? And who would that be?” she asked challengingly.
Her father surprised her by straightening, and then walking over to her and giving her a quick peck on the cheek. “You’ll figure it out. You can keep holding on to bitterness at a perceived wrong, or you can leap with your heart. I may be a serial divorcé, but I also never stopped believing in the leap of faith.”
He tapped her nose. “In fact, I made another leap of faith with you and Sawyer. Don’t try to prove me wrong for the sake of making a point.”
After her father had departed, Tamara was left to ponder his words as she absently moved things about in the loft.
Today had been the closest she and her father had ever come to an honest and forthright conversation. And it was all due to Sawyer, strangely enough.
And Sawyer was calling off the merger.
She supposed she should thank him.
Or stay mad at him.
Or…take a leap of faith.
Tamara stared at the pouring rain beating against her loft windows from her position looking out over the back of her couch. As soon as the thunderstorm let up, she promised herself she’d leave.
She nervously fingered one of the emeralds on the necklace that encircled her neck.
She was going to make the biggest leap of faith of her life today.
She looked down at herself. She’d carefully chosen the scoop-neck beige knit dress to show off her necklace to its greatest advantage.
A rap sounded at her front door, startling her. She wondered who it might be. Her buzzer hadn’t sounded from downstairs.
She crossed the room and checked the peephole. She stilled, but then in the next moment, she opened the door.
Sawyer stood there, wetness clinging to the shoulders of his open trench coat and to his trouser legs.
She hungrily took in the sight of him.
“May I come in?” he asked. “One of your neighbors was kind enough to allow me to follow him into the building.”
Silently, she stepped aside, and then shut the door once Sawyer was inside.
Then they stood facing each other. Neither spoke, though the air between them was fraught with tense energy.
She studied his face. It had the same smooth, uncompromising planes as always, but droplets of rain clung to his tawny hair, and his eyes…
The expression in his golden eyes was pure, undisguised longing, and she caught her breath.
He held out some papers in his hand. “These are the documents so far for the proposed merger. Tear them up if you want.”
She swallowed hard as she took them from him and placed them aside. “Why?”
He raked his free hand through his damp hair. “Because I can do without Kincaid News, but I can’t live without you. Because I’ve searched for a way to have you trust me, and this is the only way I have left to try to convince you that you matter more.”
She sucked in a breath. “Oh, Sawyer.”
“I took the wrong tack when I came here the other day,” he went on. “But for the record, you still have something that belongs to me.”
“What’s that?”
He took her hand and guided it until it lay flat against his heart.
Her eyes widened. And then, all of a sudden, her heart began to thud loudly.
Time slowed. From outside, the dim noise of the roaring city could be heard.
Her lips parted, and then closed again.
Emotion clogged her throat. “I—”
“Help me out,” Sawyer joked, his voice nevertheless carrying an undercurrent of need.
Instead of replying, she went on tiptoes, pulled his head down to hers and pressed her lips against his mouth.
In response, he banded his arms around her, and opened his mouth over hers.
They kissed in a hot press of need, unable to get enough of each other.
When they came up for air, he looked into her eyes. “I love you.”
“Oh, Sawyer.” She felt the prick of tears. “I love you, too.”
Tenderly, he cupped her face and stroked his thumbs over the dampness near her eyes. “What’s this? Tears for me?”
She nodded. “I’ve been shedding buckets for the past several days.” She took a tremulous breath. “In fact, I was coming to see you just as soon as the rain let up.”
He looked at her inquiringly.
“My father came here yesterday to tell me you were refusing to go through with the merger, and he had some surprisingly sage advice to deliver with the news.”