The Black Sheep's Inheritance(12)

"He's obviously brilliant as well as gorgeous. I like him already."                       
       
           



       

Colleen did, too. Which was worrying on a whole different level. Still,  first things first. Now that she'd decided to accept J.D.'s amazing  gift, her life was going to change. Big-time. Laughing to herself, she  said, "You know this means I can quit my job."

Jenna lifted her glass. "Excellent. Soon-to-be nurse practitioner Colleen Falkner."

Colleen put one hand to her abdomen to ease those bats that were still  flying in formation in the pit of her stomach. But it was a futile  gesture. Her body had been through so many ups and downs today, there  was no calming it. Oddly enough, it wasn't even the money or the  knowledge that she could make her dreams come true that was really  affecting her. Nope, that was all Sage Lassiter. His eyes. His mouth.  The deep rumble of his voice, the impossibly broad shoulders.

Oh, God.

She shouldn't be going to dinner with him. Colleen turned and glanced  into the mirror again and what she saw didn't make her feel any better.  Her eyes were too wide, her boobs were too big, her hair was a mass of  waves on her shoulders because no matter what she'd tried, she hadn't  been able to clip it up and keep it from looking like a rat's nest.

Why was she putting herself through this? What if she couldn't talk?  What if staring at him across a table turned her into a mute? Or worse,  her mind taunted, what if she babbled incoherently?

"Stop."

"What?" Colleen came up out of her nerve-racking thoughts like a  drowning woman breaching the surface of a lake. She was practically  gasping for air.

Shaking her head, Jenna said, "You're making yourself nuts. It's just  dinner, Colleen. You eat dinner every day. You can do this."

Could she? She didn't think so. Heck, her last date had been...oh, God,  she couldn't even remember when she'd dated last. All she could recall  was that the guy in question had bored her to tears and then tried to  grope her on her front porch. Good times. "I'm being crazy, aren't I?"

"Just a little."

"Right." Sage certainly wouldn't be boring, she told herself. And if he  tried to grope her, she might just let him. Oh, boy. Get a grip, she  told herself silently. She was making too much of this. Sage wanted to  talk about his late father. All she had to do was keep remembering that  and she'd be fine. By talking to him, spending time with him, she could  help him get the closure he no doubt needed.

This wasn't about her and her fantasies. This was about a man, who in  spite of his wealth and remarkable good looks, had lost a link to his  past. With that thought firmly in mind, she let her sympathy for his  loss rise up to drown her silly hormonal meltdown.

"You're right," she said, and reached out to take another sip of  Jenna's wine. Colleen hadn't poured herself any because she hadn't  wanted to risk alcohol on a nearly empty stomach. But the crisp, sharp  taste of the Sauvignon Blanc felt like bliss sliding down her too-tight  throat. Then the cold, wheat-colored liquid hit her stomach and  immediately soothed those pesky bats.

She took a breath, handed the glass back and checked her reflection one last time. "It's just a meal with a grieving man."

"Yep. Just dinner with the gorgeous, incredibly sexy, unattainable  black sheep billionaire," Jenna said with a grin. "No pressure."

Oh, God.





     Five

The condo was small, even for a condo.

Sage gave it a quick once-over as he approached the front door. It was  tidy, with its cream-colored paint and postage stamp – sized front garden,  where spring bulbs were pushing up through the earth. There was a  wreath of silk flowers hanging on her front door and when he pushed the  doorbell, he wasn't even surprised to hear a series of melodic chimes  sounding out from somewhere inside.

What did surprise him was Colleen.

She opened the door and every scrap of air escaped from his lungs. She  was wearing that red dress again. The one she'd worn the night of the  rehearsal dinner. The night he'd really seen her for the first time.  That damn dress was designed to bring a man to his knees. It molded her  figure, defined her luscious breasts and skimmed across rounded hips  that made a man think of long, dark nights and hot, steamy sex. Her dark  blond hair tumbled over her shoulders and looked like raw honey. He  caught the wink of gold earrings when she tossed her hair back and then  his gaze dropped lower-to the expanse of smooth, pale flesh that ended  in a spectacular display of the tops of her breasts. It was all he could  do to lift his gaze to meet her eyes.                       
       
           



       

"You look beautiful," he said before he could think better of it. Hell,  he was always in control of any given situation, and at the moment, he  felt like a teenager on his first date. Hard body and vacant mind.

She beamed at him as if he'd handed her flowers, and immediately he  told himself he should have done just that. If he was trying to sway her  into spilling her secrets, then he should use all the weapons he could  bring to bear.

"Thank you," she said, her voice just a little breathless. "Let me get my coat."

She reached into a hall closet, pulled out a heavy black coat and  slipped into it, covering herself up so thoroughly, Sage's brain was  able to kick back into gear.

She stepped onto the porch, locked her front door, then joined him with another smile. "Shall we go?"

And he knew at that moment, when her blue eyes were staring into his, that this night was not going to go according to plan.

At the restaurant, Sage was grateful for the clink of fine crystal and  the murmured conversations that reminded him they were in a public  place. Otherwise he might have been in trouble. She was damned  distracting, sitting across from him.

"This is lovely," she said, turning her head to look around the  interior of Moscone's Italian restaurant. It was filled with small round  tables, covered in white linen and each boasting a single candle in the  center. A sleek black-and-chrome bar stood along one wall and Italian  arias played softly over the loudspeaker. The floors were tile, the  waiters were all in white aprons and the scents filling the air were  amazing. "I've never been here before."

"Food's good," Sage mused. "But they're going to have some serious  competition when the Lassiter Grill opens up." Damn. He could hardly get  words past the knot of need in his throat. Sage took a sip of the wine  the waiter had poured just moments before.

"It was really nice of you to bring me here," she said, "but it wasn't necessary. We could have talked at my house."

But then she wouldn't have worn the dress. Sage shifted uncomfortably  on the black leather bench seat. He hadn't expected to spend the night  in agony, but apparently he was going to. And just by looking at her, he  knew she had absolutely no idea what she was doing to him. He had to  take back control of this situation or he was going to achieve nothing.

"What can you tell me?" he asked, blurting the question out to divert himself from the thoughts plaguing him.

"Anything you want to know."

Like if you talked an old man into leaving you money? Did you steer him  away from giving Angelica the company she loves? Did you wear that damn  dress on purpose, knowing what it would do to me?

Couldn't start with those questions, though...could he? His brain scrambled, coming up with a different way to begin.

"First tell me about you. How long have you been a nurse?" Good. Get  her talking. Then later, once she'd relaxed her guard, he'd be able to  slide the more important questions in.

She took a sip of wine and he watched, hypnotized by the movement in her throat as she swallowed. Not good.

"Eleven years," she said, setting the goblet back onto the table and sliding her fingertips up and down the long, elegant stem.

Sage's gaze fixed on to that motion, and his brain fogged over even as  his body went rock hard. He had to force himself to pay attention when  she continued to speak quietly.

"When my father got sick, it was such a blessing to be able to help my  mom take care of him." Old pain etched itself into her eyes briefly.  "After he died, I realized that I was more interested in taking care of  people one-on-one than in a hospital setting. I decided to become a  private nurse. So I could make a real difference in the lives of  families who were going through what we went through."

Was she really as selfless and kind as she appeared? He wanted to spot  deception, gamesmanship in her eyes, but those soft blue depths remained  as clear and guileless as ever. Was she really that good an actress, he  wondered. Or was she really an innocent?