His By Any Means: The Black Sheep's Inheritance

Maybe the red dress would help. It was beautiful and wearing it, she couldn’t help but feel more confident. Besides, she told herself, Sage might not even remember that she was wearing this dress at the rehearsal dinner.

“Have some wine.” Jenna offered her own glass and Colleen snatched at it, taking a big gulp, hoping to drown the bats. Apparently though, they knew how to swim.

“This is a mistake,” she muttered and handed the glass back to her friend.

“No, it’s not. You’re a terrific person, Colleen. It’s about time you let some man figure that out for himself.”

“It’s not a—”

“Yes, yes.” Jenna walked back to the love seat, dropped onto the slipcovered cushions and stared up at her. “Now, tell me how my best friend becomes a millionaire and gets a date with the Sage Lassiter.”

“Weren’t you listening? It’s not a date.”

“Whatever.” She patted the cushion beside her. “So how’re you doing, really, with this crazy, world-shifting, life-altering day?”

Good question. “Actually, I think I’m feeling better about the money.”

“Yay!”

Smiling, Colleen thought about sitting down, but she didn’t want to wrinkle her dress. How did the beautiful people do this all the time? “Really, I’ve had all day to think about it, and you know, Sage was right. Even if I give up the money to charity, people will still talk. I’ll just be poor while they’re talking about me.”

“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 (#u37696086-b3d5-5af3-8c22-fdc2e2c3d438)

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.