Personal Relations

She looked momentarily confused. “It depends on which college she attends.”

“College. Well, that’s a twist I hadn’t expected.” He glared at her. “I guess this beats filling out all those scholarship forms.”

“What are you talking about?” The confusion was back in her eyes. What an actress. Must be where Courtney got it.

“I’m talking about this shakedown.”

“Shakedown?”

“Yeah, this great little hustle you’ve got going here.” He opened a drawer, withdrew a leather-covered triplicate checkbook and register. “Tell me—how many other boys’ parents have contributed to your sister’s…scholarship fund?”

She stormed to her feet, the very picture of affronted virtuous femininity. “No one has contributed anything!”

“Then they’ve got stronger nerves than I do. So you’ve got a break here. How much?”

Her mouth opened and closed. Chase supposed she hadn’t been ready for him to capitulate so quickly.

“Are you trying to bribe me into giving my consent to their marriage?” she asked.

“Consent?” He gave a crack of laughter. “Cut the act, sweetheart. I’m offering to buy you off, and you know it.” His pen hovered over the checkbook. “Let’s see…private school, I don’t think so. Courtney looks like a junior college girl to me.”

“Wait a minute—”

Chase dropped his smile. “This is a ‘take-it-or-leave-it’ offer.”

“Suppose you explain exactly what I might be taking or leaving.”

He finished scrawling on the check, ripped it out and tossed it across the desk. “You and your sister take your hooks out of Jeff and throw him back into the pond. There are bigger fish out there.”

“I suppose that’s your clumsy way of saying that you don’t want Jeff to marry my sister and it’s worth—” She picked up the check and stared incredulously. “Ten thousand dollars? Are you kidding?”

“More money than you’ve ever seen in one place, right sweetheart?”

“Oh, please. This is your brother—”

“Stepbrother. And a former one at that.”

“Still—shouldn’t there be another zero?”

“That’s all you’re getting.”

She tossed the check back at him. “This may be all Jeff’s future is worth to you, but I’ll have you know that my sister is worth a heck of a lot more than ten grand. Besides, I’m really concerned about how out of date you are with college tuition costs.”

“News flash—that sister of yours isn’t exactly baccalaureate material. The only degree she’s after is her MRS.”

“What time warp did you beam through? Comments like that are politically incorrect now.”

He gazed up at her. “Actually, I was paying her a compliment. What I felt like saying was that your sister has mistress written all over her. She’s going to be some rich, old man’s plaything. At best, she’ll be a trophy wife.”

BROOKE’S KNEES gave out and she sank deep into the chair.

Who did he think he was? More importantly, who did he think she was?

He leaned forward and slid the check toward her. “Your sister’s not bad looking. Use this and fix her up a little. Buy her some nice clothes, a good haircut, maybe a nose job—but get her the hell away from my stepbrother.”

A hot fury burned away the desensitizing layers of composure Brooke had grafted onto her emotions. It had the effect of exposing all her feelings to an intensity she hadn’t experienced for years.

Everything was…more. The afternoon sun coming through the window was brighter. The air from the heating vent was dryer, the breath mint she’d eaten before coming in here was mintier.

Chase’s shirt was crisper, his jaw sharper, his eyes colder.

And the dimple in his chin was deeper.

It looked old-fashioned—kind of forties Hollywood. She hadn’t noticed many men with clefts in their chins these days.

But this wasn’t about the cleft in his chin, or his jaw, either, or her pride. This was about…about…

Yes, it was, too, about pride, damn it!

He, this jerk, this old-fashioned male chauvinist pig, thought that Courtney wasn’t good enough for his brother. He didn’t care that two young people were making a major life decision based on their hormones. His only objection was that Courtney wasn’t good enough or classy enough for his—for Jeff.

Brooke was furious and it hurt to breathe. She couldn’t draw enough air into her lungs anyway.

“Courtney is worth ten of Jeff! Marriage to her would be the best thing that could happen to him. He might even grow up.”

Slowly, Chase rose and leaned over the desk, propping himself on his fists. “He doesn’t need to grow up that way. Right now, he’s still young enough to believe in hearts and flowers and getting tickets to the prom. He doesn’t need to know that there are women out there only interested in him for his money.”

“What money? He had to borrow a few dollars from Courtney to pay for pizza the other night. I know, because she had to borrow the money from me.”

“I’m not talking chump change, and you know it.”

Actually, pizza was more than chump change to someone who was watching every penny. That had blown Brooke’s lunch budget and she’d had to brown bag it twice to get back on track.

“You’ve seen the kind of car Jeff drives,” he continued.

“The ten-year-old Honda?”

Chase flushed. “That’s my car. It runs great. Jeff’s is the silver Porsche. His mother gave it to him.”

“Then what are you doing driving it?”

“His grades weren’t up to par the past six weeks and that’s the deal. He maintains a B average, or we switch cars.”

“Oh.” What a great incentive. How could this jerk have thought of it?

Unless he wanted Jeff to blow off his grades so he could drive the Porsche. But as much as she wanted to believe that, especially after his next comment, she didn’t.

He eyed her. “You’re not trying to tell me you didn’t know he’s sitting on a nice little trust fund.”