"But why, if Bram knew you didn't want to get married?"
She stared at her half-eaten dessert. Finally, she looked around the table. "Abram claims I have an inherent sense of character. He hoped that I could meet you, get to know each of you a little bit, and objectively choose."
"Then choose!" Jesse growled.
"Tomorrow!" Willa growled back, stabbing her cake and making one of the cherries shoot off her plate. It landed on Jesse's white shirt.
Chapter Three
Darcy and Paula wantedto go dancing next.
Would the evening never end?
Willa could dance about as well as she could walk in heels. And her date must have realized exactly how she felt about it, because Sam's eyes lit up when everyone agreed they would go to a favorite nightspot. Well, she'd simply have another drink and watch from the table. She wasn't about to step into his arms naively, because Sam Sinclair downright disconcerted her. He made her palms sweat. He made her arm tingle whenever he took hold of her elbow. And she had a hard time breathing properly whenever he looked directly at her with those impaling ice-blue eyes of his. He was a good head taller than she was, although that didn't exactly make him a giant. His shoulders did that. But it was his broad, masculine chest that really made her want to throw herself into his arms. That was why she wouldn't dance with him. She was afraid she'd get wrapped up in his arms, against that chest, and start to drool. He also smelled much too good. She wasn't about to get close to a well-built, handsome, broad-chested, nice-smelling man. It had simply been too long for her. Since her divorce five years ago, Willa had persuaded her hormones to hibernate, but the damn things had woken up when Sam took her elbow to escort her to the boardroom. Now they were practically jumping up and down in anticipation.
"Where's your purse?" he asked when the car pulled to the curb to pick them up.
Willa looked him right in the eye. "On the floor in the restaurant."
He heaved a mighty sigh and turned to go back in.
She grabbed his sleeve. "Leave it. It's got three tissues and a comb in it."
He looked at her, his blue eyes intent. Suddenly, he grinned and helped her into the car. Once again, Willa found herself sandwiched between Ben and Sam, across from Jesse, the two women on either side of him. And once again, the silence became awkward.
"What have you and Bram talked about these last six weeks?" Jesse asked.
"Everything," she answered honestly. "About life. And death. About accepting both. He told me that he buried all three of his sons. And he says he misses Rose very much."
"Our father was Bram's middle son. His oldest son, Michael, died in a fire at the age of six. And Peter, his youngest, died at age twenty in a skiing accident," Jesse explained. "Our father and mother died in a plane crash more than twenty years ago."
"He told me Rose passed away five years ago."
"Yes. Our home, Rosebriar, is named for her."
"Bram also talked about you three. About how ‘damn proud' he is of you," Willa said with a sincere smile. "And about how stubborn you all are for not getting married," she added, darting an apologetic smile at the two women across from her.
"We'll marry in time," Jesse said. "But on our terms-not Bram's."
"Abram told me he made the mistake of raising you all to be just like him."
Jesse gave Willa a roguish grin. "That's quite a compliment."
"Not really. I think all of you, Abram included, should have been drowned at birth."
Darcy and Paula gasped. Jesse's grin broadened. Ben snorted. Sam's shoulders shook, which shook her
.
"How long were you married?" Sam asked.
"Three long, long years," she admitted with a sigh.
"And you're sure it was your size that got you divorced?"
"I think, Mr. Sinclair, that ultimately it was the huge rottweiler David found in our bed."
"You didn't!" Jesse sputtered on a choked laugh.
"I was getting desperate. A friend owned a very sweet rottweiler who happened to dislike men. David
came home one night a little too late, a little too drunk, and a little too perfumey." Willa smiled. "I think he still walks with a slight limp."
Darcy and Paula looked incredulous, but both sides of Willa started shaking, until Ben and Sam couldn't hold in their laughter any longer.
"A partridge." Jesse snorted. "More like a falcon, Sam."
Willa frowned. "What are you-"
The limo driver suddenly cursed as the car swerved hard to the right, throwing them off balance. More curses erupted from the men as it swerved again, and Willa was suddenly slammed up against a stone-hard chest. Bands of steel tightened around her as everyone was tossed like clothes in a washing machine, all three women screaming.
The wild ride stopped with unbelievable force, throwing Willa to the floor. A heavy weight landed on top of her. Though her head was protected by the large hand cupping it, her body felt as if a tank had just slammed into it. And she couldn't breathe.
Old ghosts rose in Willa's mind, filling her with terror. She shoved at Sam with all her might. "Out! We have to get out. It's going to burn!" she cried, still shoving. "Everyone out!"
"Easy, Willamina. It's okay. We're not on fire," Sam said close to her ear. Feet and arms and legs poked at her, as more cursing ensued. A back door opened.
Willa shoved at Sam again. "We have to get out! It could still burn. Get off me!"
"Easy, we're getting out," Sam said calmly, trying to quell her panic. "Are you hurt?"
"Just get me out of this car!" she shrieked, scrambling for the open door. Sam lifted her out, helping her stand as he visually inspected her. She broke free and whirled suddenly, looking at the limo on its side in the ditch. "Is everyone out? Is everyone out?" she shouted, trying to run back to the car.
Sam pulled her against him, walking them away from the limo. "We're all out, Willamina. And the car's not on fire. Take it easy."
Ghost eyes met his; then she started looking around for the others. Ben had taken Paula a short distance away and was sitting with his date on his lap on the grass, cradling her against his shoulder. Jesse was trying to get Darcy to sit on the coat he'd thrown onto the ground for her, but she appeared too unsettled. Finally, he picked her up and simply sat down with her. Sam looked back at Willamina. She wasn't panicked by just this accident. "Are you okay?" he asked, lifting her face so he could see her eyes.
She didn't answer, shaking silently. Ronald came over with his jacket and put it on her shoulders. Sam wrapped it tightly around her and embraced her again, tucking her head under his chin. "What
happened?" he asked Ronald.
Their driver motioned up the road, and Sam saw several cars in the ditch ahead. People were stumbling out of them as other vehicles stopped to help.
"The sports car cut off that blue SUV, which braked suddenly. I could only head for the ditch, boss,"
Ronald explained.
"Good driving."
"We pretty near rolled," he confessed.
"Like I said, good driving. Have you called it in?"
Just then, Sam heard sirens coming from a distance. Ronald's teeth flashed white in the darkness.
"Everyone's got cell phones."
"See if there's a blanket in the trunk."
"There is," Ronald assured him, hurrying to get it.
"Don't let him near the car!" Willamina cried, trying to pull out of Sam's embrace.
"There's no fire, Willamina. Come sit down here with the others. You're shaking. Are you sure you're not hurt?"
"Don't patronize me!" she snapped, shrugging out of Ronald's jacket and letting it fall to the ground.
"That car could burst into flames at any minute. It's happened before!"
"It won't happen this time," he promised, grabbing her and sitting down with her on his lap. Hell, if it worked for his brothers …
"It-it's happened to me before," she whispered against his chest, shaking uncontrollably. "I barely got her out before it exploded."
"Got who out?" he asked softly.
She wouldn't answer and quietly started sobbing. Ronald returned with a blanket and tried to hand it to Sam. He shook his head, shrugging out of his evening jacket. "Take it to the others. And tell me as soon as an ambulance gets here."