Her heart stopped and a thin sliver of air worked its way down her lungs. Blindly, she reached out one hand to the doorjamb and held on as if it meant her life.
"She was the closest to the old man and it's entirely possible that she knows something she's not even aware of," Sage continued.
Colleen felt sick. Her heartbeat was slow. Heavy. Like a movie played in extremely slow motion. Ice dropped into the pit of her churning stomach and the cold seemed to spread, snaking out tentacles that reached throughout her body until she shivered with reaction.
She should leave.
She knew she should turn and run. Hit the front door, race to her car and get off the mountain. But she couldn't move. It was as if her feet were nailed to the floor. She wanted to be struck deaf so she wouldn't have to hear any more. She wanted to have never come downstairs. To have never come here to this ranch at all.
Sage shook his head and laughed at whatever his brother was saying. "You're wrong, Dylan. Trust me, I'm not getting too close to Colleen. I don't do close. Besides, this isn't about what I want-it's about what I want to find out."
Did she make a sound? She might have. A tiny gasp. A small moan. Of course she did. How could her body contain so much pain without letting some of it escape? Whatever that sound was, he heard it, because he slowly swiveled around in his chair, spotted her across the room and said simply, "Colleen."
Funny. It was the look in his eyes that finally freed her enough to run. The shock. The surprise. The guilt. By the time he slammed the phone into its cradle, she was gone.
* * *
Panic roared into life in Sage's chest and had him bolting from his office, racing after her, determined to catch her. To explain. To- Hell. He didn't know what he'd do.
"Damn it, Colleen, wait!" He caught her at the front door and slammed one hand on the heavy oak panel so she couldn't yank it open no matter how hard she tried.
"Get away," she said and he heard tears choking her voice.
Pain lanced him as he called himself all kinds of vicious but accurate names.
"I mean it, Sage," she muttered thickly. "Let me go."
"It's raining, Colleen. You can't leave in a storm."
"I know how to drive in the rain-and I'm leaving."
"I can't let you do that." That panic was still bubbling up inside him and staring down into her damp eyes, it only got worse. She was trying to leave and he couldn't let her. Not like this.
"What you heard back there? It wasn't true." He hung his head and gave it a shake before finding the strength to meet those tear-filled blue eyes again. "I was just trying to get Dylan off my back, that's all."
"No," she said, her mouth twisting as if she were trying desperately to keep her bottom lip from quivering. "It was true. All of it. I'm only surprised I didn't see it sooner."
Seeing tears clouding her clear, beautiful eyes tore at him. Knowing he had caused it nearly killed him. The worst kind of bastard, he'd hurt a woman who didn't deserve it, all to cover his own ass and save his pride with his brother.
"Why else would you ever go for a woman like me?" Shaking her head, she lifted her chin and he saw what that defiant, proud move cost her. "So don't tell me that conversation with your brother wasn't true. Recent behavior notwithstanding, I'm not an idiot, Sage. Now open this door and let me leave."
"You don't really want to go and I don't want you to," he said, gaze moving over her lovely features, searing her face into his mind. He drew her scent in deep and felt her permeate every cell in his body.
He should have locked the damn office door. Then this wouldn't be an issue. She never would have overheard him. They could have gone on as they were, and both of them would have been happy. Instead, he had to try to unravel the damage he'd done.
The thing was, he hadn't meant a damn thing he'd said to his brother. He just hadn't wanted to admit to himself, let alone Dylan, that he'd come to...care for Colleen. Oh, it might have started out differently, using her as a means to an end, but somewhere along the line, that had changed. Into what, he couldn't say. All he was sure of was that he hated seeing her in pain. Hated knowing he was the cause.
Bending his head, he kissed her and refused to allow her to turn her face from his. Wouldn't let her ignore the fire between them. And in seconds, in spite of the turmoil churning inside her, she was kissing him back. His heart gave one wild lurch as he realized that maybe, just maybe, he could still salvage what he had with her. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly, losing himself, as always, in the heat that engulfed him the moment they came together.
Seconds, minutes, it could have been hours that passed as they stood, wrapped up in each other, mouths fused, hearts beating in tandem. But when he tried to draw back, to lead her toward the stairs and his bedroom, Colleen said, "No."
He stared at her, confused by the refusal. "What?"
"No," she said again, pulling away from him, taking a step back to increase the space between them. "I won't go back upstairs with you, Sage. I can't."
He shoved one hand through his hair. "But you kissed me back just now. You believed me when I told you that I didn't mean any of what you heard."
"Didn't you?" Her eyes were wounded. There was no sign of tears now, but the cool detachment he saw in her expression worried Sage more than a flood of tears might have. "Why did you first come to see me, Sage? Why did you first want to spend time with me?"
Instead of answering, he asked a question of his own. "Why are you doing this?"
She laughed shortly, but the sound was harsh and strained. "I really don't want to, but I have no choice. So tell me why, Sage."
He wouldn't lie to her. Couldn't bring himself to look into those honest, oh-so-innocent eyes and lie just to save his own ass. He'd bring her more pain and it would rip him apart, but she deserved the damned truth.
"You know why." As his gaze locked with hers, he saw her eyes widen slightly and another slash of pain dart across their surfaces.
"So it's true."
"It's not true now," he countered and took a step toward her. He stopped when she backed away, maintaining the distance between them. "I didn't know you," he said, forcing himself to keep meeting her eyes, acknowledging the pain he was causing her even as it sliced at him, too. "All I knew was that J.D.'s will had been changed. He'd cheated my sister out of what should have been hers, and J.D.'s private nurse was suddenly a millionaire."
She sucked in a gulp of air and the gasping sound filled the quiet house. "You really believed I had somehow tricked J.D. into leaving me money and cheating your sister?"
"Don't you get it, Colleen? Nothing was making sense. J.D. turned on his daughter. Thinking you were somehow behind it all made as much sense as anything else." It sounded so stupid now, knowing her as he did. But in his own defense, hadn't he had his own experience with J.D. paying women off? "Can you blame me? You know what my father did to me once before. He betrayed me then...and now, from the damn grave, he's doing the same thing to Angie."
She shook her head sadly. "You've let that one horrible experience color your whole life, haven't you?"
"Why shouldn't I? It was a valuable lesson and I learned it well."
Her luscious mouth twisted into a parody of a smile that was almost harder to see than the single tear escaping her eye to roll along her cheek.
"Oh, Sage," she said, her voice aching with the hurt he'd just dealt her. "What you didn't learn was that J.D. didn't do that to hurt you. He did it to protect you. That's what we do for people we love."
"Protect me?" He laughed, astonished that she could still take J.D.'s side in this, in spite of everything. "How? By making me doubt myself, my judgment? By ensuring that I wouldn't trust another damn soul? Some help."
Shaking her head again, she looked at him with disappointment. "You chose that path, Sage. Your father didn't put you on it." Her voice was so quiet he had to strain to hear it over the thundering beat of his own heart. "He was trying to save you from more pain later on down the road." She paused, then hurried on before he could speak. "Sure, he made mistakes. But people do. Especially the people who love us."
What the hell was he supposed to do with a woman like her? She continually looked for the good in people-and had found it in J.D. Despite what he'd done to Sage so many years ago, the old man had done the best he could by all of his children, and maybe Sage was now willing to accept that. If he did, it just made the will that much more perplexing.