Forbidden Passion

“Brett and I were trying to start a family and we…” She ducked her chin. A rush of pink swept her high cheekbones before the curtain of her hair swept forward to conceal her features. “The day he died was the beginning of my fertile cycle.”

His belly bottomed out. Could this day get any worse? He’d buried his baby brother, made love to his brother’s wife and may have impregnated a woman he should be protecting, not hurting. And then her words sank in. She and Brett had been trying to make a baby. Brett had been the only family he had left, and his brother’s seed might already be growing inside Lynn’s womb. Sawyer clutched the link to Brett like a lifeline.

He might be an uncle.

Or a father. He swallowed the lump in his throat and struggled to breathe despite the constriction of his chest muscles. The first would be a blessing, the second a curse on his soul for taking what wasn’t his and yet, he liked the idea of Lynn having his baby. The possibility tied his insides into knots—knots he couldn’t unravel when his thoughts were as convoluted as this. He shoved the issue aside to deal with later, when he’d recovered a shred of reason.

He should leave, get the hell out of here before he made things worse, but he couldn’t until he knew Brett had provided for Lynn. “I stayed behind because I need to know if Brett’s life insurance will be enough to support you—” he swallowed again, but the tightness in his throat persisted “—and a child.”

The silence stretched so long that he didn’t think she’d answer, and then her gaze met his. She looked so damned fragile. He sucked a sharp breath at the worry in her eyes and battled the urge to pull her close.

“Brett let the policy lapse.”

Great. His brother had never been one for what he considered trivial details. “What will you do?”

She shifted on her feet, reminding him that she was bare and wet beneath the skirt of her dress. Hell. He yanked his thoughts back on track.

Her jaw set. “I’d rather not discuss this now, Sawyer.”

He fisted his hands in frustration. “I’m not trying to be callous. I know you’re tired and it’s been a rough day, and I’ve added to that, but I won’t leave until I know you have enough money to cover immediate expenses.”

“That’s not your problem. If I have to I’ll get a job.”

“Doing what?”

“I don’t know. I can always go back to waitressing.”

Lynn had been a waitress in a downtown Chapel Hill coffee shop when he’d met her four and a half years ago. She’d lured him with her sunny smile, sky-blue eyes and sun-streaked blond hair, and then she’d hooked him with her contradictions. Her work uniform had consisted of a starched white shirt, pure schoolmarm, and a short black skirt, one hundred percent siren when combined with her long, lithe legs and a no-nonsense hip-swinging gait. She’d been shy until he’d gotten to know her, and then her gutsy and ambitious side had peeked through and reeled him in. Lynn dreamed big—something they had in common.

He’d debated for months before asking her out because she was too young for him, but in the end he couldn’t resist. They’d dated a few times, and then he’d made the second biggest mistake of his life. He’d introduced her to his brother. An extended business trip had called him out of town, and he’d returned to find Brett and Lynn married.

Move on, Riggan. You can’t change the past. She chose Brett. “You’d only make minimum wage. You deserve better.”

“Sawyer, I have a high school diploma and one semester of college. I’m not qualified for anything better.”

“You should have finished school.”

Lynn looked away, revealing beard burn on the delicate skin of her neck. He’d marked her in his passion. The unexpected urge to soothe her chafed skin with his mouth hit him hard. “Brett wanted me here.”

That wasn’t the way Brett told the story. “Have you gone over the finances with your accountant yet?”

“Brett kept our books.”

His belly sank even lower. Brett was a marketing genius, but numbers had never been his strong suit. “When will you meet with the lawyer to go over the will? You need to know if you have enough money to hold on to the house and your car.”

She pressed a hand to her temple and bowed her head. He wanted to smooth her tangled hair as badly as he wanted his next breath. He shoved his hands deeper into his pockets. “I’ll meet with the lawyer in a few days, but I’ve looked over the accounts. Money is going to be tight until I sell the house.”

Her words didn’t make sense. Brett had earned a generous salary as marketing director of Riggan CyberQuest. “You’re selling the house?”

She lifted her chin and met his gaze. The wariness and fear in her eyes knotted his gut. “It’s too big for just me.”

He cursed his brother. If Brett had kept up the life insurance policy then Lynn wouldn’t be forced to sell the house where she and Brett had lived—he swallowed hard—and loved. “What can I do to help?”

“Nothing, thanks. I’ve already contacted a real estate agent. He’s coming out to give me an appraisal.” She seemed determined to tough it out alone.

He was just as determined to help her. Lynn was his responsibility now—especially if she carried a Riggan baby in her belly. “You can move in with me until you find a new place.”

Her eyes rounded. “I…no, thank you.”

He couldn’t blame her, since he’d violated her trust today. He shoved a hand through his hair. “What happened today… I can’t tell you how much I regret it. I won’t lose control again. You have my word, Lynn.”

Why did the words feel like a lie? And why did Lynn flinch as if he’d slapped her? He wanted to kick himself. Instead, he pulled out his wallet and extracted the cash inside. “This is all I have with me, but I can get more—as much as you need.”

She recoiled, and her skin flushed. “Are you trying to make me feel like a hooker?”

He winced and his skin heated. “No.” Dammit. “I thought you might need money for food or…whatever.”

She made no move to take the cash. “The neighbors brought enough food to last a week. I don’t need anything else.”

“I want to help—”

“I know you’re used to taking care of Brett, but I’m twenty-three years old, Sawyer. I can take care of myself. Now I’m exhausted, so I hope you’ll excuse me.” She opened the front door. Her invitation to leave couldn’t have been clearer.

“Lynn—”

“Please, Sawyer, I just can’t do this right now. Go home.”

She looked ready to collapse, so he didn’t argue. “We’re not finished.”

Two

“You’re saying the situation is worse than I thought?” Lynn perched on the edge of her chair across from Mr. Allen, the estate lawyer. Her nails dug into her palms, and her stomach clenched into a tight knot. An hour’s worth of legal terminology spun in a confusing mass in her head.

The older gentleman regarded her somberly through his wire-rimmed bifocals from across his wide cherry desk. The richly furnished office smelled like money. Ironically, he’d just told her she had none.

“Your husband’s estate is heavily burdened with debt, Mrs. Riggan. You’ll have to liquidate your assets to cover those debts. As far as I can ascertain the thirty-percent share of Riggan CyberQuest you’ve inherited is your only debt-free asset.”

Lynn gulped her rising panic and stiffened her spine. “So I should sell Brett’s share of the company?”

“Yes, if you hope to have anything to live off, but your brother-in-law has right of first refusal should you choose to sell.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem. Sawyer will want to buy Brett’s share.”

Mr. Allen shuffled the papers in front of him until she thought her nerves would snap. “You have rights of survivorship on your home which means you can sell it without waiting for the estate to be settled, and I would highly recommend you do so before the bank takes action, since your payments are past due. I’ll have my secretary give you the names of several reputable estate appraisers. You can have your household items assessed and then choose one of the estate men to help you divest yourself of anything of value.”

She clenched her hands to stop their trembling and nodded. The tasks ahead seemed insurmountable, but Brett’s share of the company should give her enough to start over and to get an education so she could support herself.

The attorney continued, “You’ve provided receipts showing you’ve paid for the funeral services, and yet the money wasn’t withdrawn from any of your bank accounts.”