by Janice Olson
“Shall we continue?” Horace T. made a notation on a pad. “Jason, you’re looking at this all wrong. You can still run your ranch and your business. Your property is close enough to town it won’t be a hardship. Only sixty percent of your nights have to be spent at Rose Mansion to satisfy the letter of the law.”
Horace T.’s look darted to BJ. “The same would apply to you. There’d be no reason why you can’t continue to run your gallery and still do day travel. Same as now, your manager can take care of your little shop while you’re here for the year. After that …” The lawyer shrugged, turning his palms up.
BJ seethed that the lawyer had dug into her private affairs. He had no right. She would get to the bottom of who fed him details of her business. Also, she’d learn why Horace T. thought her business interesting enough to ferret out the facts.
“Maybe you won’t be able to go as far afield, but I’m sure you could work out the minute details to your satisfaction. With your money, airplanes, telephones, internet, it shouldn’t be a problem.” The attorney steepled his fingers in front of his smug lips, pleased with his easy dissolution of her puny problems.
“If I can run my business and live at Rose Mansion, she sure as blazes should be able to do the same.” Jason flashed her I dare you to disagree.
Grinding her teeth, she wanted to grab the glass of water and throw it in Jason’s face. Better yet, a slap across his smirky mouth would feel so much more satisfying.
She did neither.
Simmering at a steady boil, she pasted on a smile, and didn’t give a hint of what she’d really like to do to Mr. Jason Lynn O’Connell. And murder was high on her list.
Get a hold of yourself. Don’t let him affect you.
After all these years, how could he still manage to rile her temper? He did it often when they were teens. But back then he’d tease her out of her snit and they’d laugh and make up. Today Jason didn’t tease, and from the looks of it, there’d be no making up.
“I believe both of you can think this through. Work out the logistics of your separate lives.” He shot a look in her direction. “And what you may not realize, Ms. Spencer, Rose Mansion is huge. With two wings, east and west, thirteen suites to pick from, each with separate sitting room and bath, I dare say you would never see one another in the whole twelve months you lived there, unless you wanted to. And overseeing the orphanage would be easy and within walking distance if you chose.”
“It would have to be opposite wings of the mansion, if I were to consider the outrageous bequest. In fact, I would insist on it.” BJ sent a deliberate look in Jason’s direction.
“Definitely.” Jason crossed his arms, his elbow bumping hers.
She shifted farther away from Jason. Looking Horace T. straight in the eye, she said, “However, where Heritage House is concerned, I’ve lived there. I’ll take a look at the house first, but I’m sure I’ll want to incorporate changes.”
“You’d be completely in charge.”
“Mr. Hampton.” BJ’s eyes never left the lawyer’s face. “Why are you pushing so hard for us to take the bequest? What’s in it for you?”
She could see her questions surprised him. “Nothing, outside of my executor’s fees the law allows. And the why?” He lifted his brow haughtily. “I want the satisfaction of a job completed as Mrs. Loveless would have wished.”
BJ couldn’t quite buy his answer. His look, mannerisms, even his words just didn’t ring true. Something niggled at her. However she didn’t pursue her questioning further. Another time.
The attorney cleared his throat. “There’s just one more minor point I should mention. If one of you were to die during the period of the year the survivor would immediately inherit his or her portion. But bear in mind, if one defaults, both will suffer the loss along with the orphanage. Win or lose, it’s your choice.”
Horace T. stood, picked up the papers and files. “I’ll leave you to discuss the matter for a few moments while Ms. Carter makes copies of the will. If you can’t make a decision before you leave here today, I advise you to at least read over the terms and conditions of the will when you get home. I should be able to call each of you with the finalized figure on the estate by Wednesday, Friday the latest. Hopefully, by then you will be persuaded to make the right decision.” Without another glance or word, Horace T. left them alone.
Chapter 6
The moment the door shut, BJ desperately wished she could follow Horace T. and escape this nightmare. Acutely aware of the one hundred and eighty-plus pounds of pure masculine force sitting less than two inches from her elbow, she wished herself anywhere but here. Unmentionable reactions were happening to her just because of his nearness and she couldn’t afford for her feelings to be involved in her decision.
Her tongue thick, dry, and unable to swallow, she wanted, no, needed the glass of water sitting in front of her. But she couldn’t make her hand respond. Thoughts of excusing herself to the ladies’ room crossed her mind, but she nixed the idea. No. She’d stay glued to her chair, even if it killed her. And his nearness was doing just that, killing her inch by inch.
The quiet, interminable. Time, agonizingly slow. The silence so complete the methodical tick of the calendar clock from the other room sounded like the executioner’s drum. If he didn’t speak soon, permanent, irreversible damage would take place, and she wouldn’t be responsible for her actions. She repressed the bubble of laughter at the mental picture of her jumping up from her chair and running out of the room screaming.
“What do you want to do?”
BJ almost jumped out of her skin, and then mentally kicked herself for being such a ninny. His voice held a hint of resignation, or was it dread? She wasn’t sure and glanced over at him. Mistake.
Jason’s eye, like pools of stormy, dark water stared back, pulling her. She felt vulnerable and longed for a time when life wasn’t so complicated—if there ever was a time. And though she fought hard to resist Jason’s appeal, she knew she was the loser in this tug of war.
The attraction earlier was nothing compared to now with his face so close. The desire to reach out and smooth away the tightened lines of anger from his brow had her painfully clamping her hands together.
“What?” She blinked and tried to shift back, finding no room to move farther from the crux of her problem.
“What do you want to do? I know you haven’t really been consulted as to your wishes.” He gave her a rueful smile. “But let’s face it, this isn’t a normal situation we find ourselves in. Do you need the money?” He looked genuinely concerned about her answer.
“I beg your pardon?” The nerve. The audacity of the man. Did he think her in dire straits and capable of selling her very soul to the highest bidder, downright insulting.
“I said, do—you—need—the—”
“I heard what you said.”
“Then why in the world did you ask me to repeat—”
“I didn’t ask you to repeat yourself.”
“It sure sounded like that to me.”
She felt those three lines back between her brows again only tighter, but she couldn’t do a thing about them. Worry and stress did that to her. At this rate she’d be old before her time.
The eyes tugging her under earlier were now exasperated and shooting sparks. His fingers raked through his hair causing several curls to stand irreverently, adoringly so.
BJ stop this. You’re not a schoolgirl. You’re a grown woman.
“It’s incomprehensible that you would ask about my personal finances. You have—”
“I don’t give a hoot about your finances. Oh, forget it.” He lunged from his chair with a glint directed at her as if she were a chicken pegged for frying, and he’d love to wring her neck.
“I can tell you’re going to be stubborn and contrary about this.” He paced the length of the room and then came back, towering over her. “Should have known. What else could I expect? You’re a woman.”
Unable to keep the laughter from he
r voice she said, “The last time I checked I was.” Seeing his inquisitive face, she supplied the answer. “A woman, Jace. A woman.”
His stormy expression eased, and a glint of humor lurked in his eyes.
“I’m sorry.” She shook her head. “But you’re right.” She held her hands out to her sides then dropped them on the armrests. “Let’s face it. Women do think differently than men. But that isn’t what’s behind all this. You know it. I know it. So what can we do to cut through the acrimony?”
“What acrimony?” He nearly yelled the words.
“Oh, come now. Ever since you walked into this room, you’ve had a burr attached to your backside, and it still seems to be smarting. And this asinine business concerning the will … well, there’s nothing to be done about it. Can’t change it even if we wanted to. If we don’t find a bit of humor in our situation we’re liable to end up killing one another.” She quirked her brow, glancing up at his imposing form, his features perplexed.
“I find nothing humorous about this predicament.”
“Work with me here. We’re in the same boat, sinking fast. Our situation is what it is. And if for no other reason, we have to think of Heritage House. Oh, the money isn’t so bad either, but …” She looked at him. Mistake. He wore a crooked grin. She looked away. “We’re in this situation together, and unless we can talk amicably, nothing will get settled. And we’re not the only ones who will lose if we don’t try to work together.
“Like you, I’m not sure I want any part of this crazy bequest.” She gazed down at her hands, not really seeing them. “However, I’m willing to listen to what you have to say, consider our options, and if they’re workable …” She shrugged, turned her hands up in a gesture of acceptance. “We and a bunch of little ones stand to forfeit a great deal if we don’t.”
“You don’t know the half of it, lady.
Chapter 7
From the minute he’d walked through the door ... No, if he were truthful, the whole thing began the moment he got the call from Hampton and heard the words—Billy Jo Spencer will be at the reading of your aunt’s will. That’s when the fire sparked to life in his gut and the blaze hadn’t stopped burning since.
Hampton wouldn’t explain why she had to be here for the reading. Even a threat didn’t move the man … but now no mystery. And here he stood, looking down at the same irritatingly beautiful woman less than a foot away, who had heaped a truckload of misery on him by leaving town years ago.
Aunt Maddy’s will? Much like a range stew sitting out way too long. After one bite you knew you’d live to regret it, but it was too late to do anything to stop the effects.
When he entered the room, he had decided to hate her, or at the very least, treat her with indifference. One look at her, not a teen any longer but a woman, and his resolve proved near impossible. He figured he would goad her, see if he could make her half as miserable as her being here had made him, and it had worked some. But each time he felt horrible for picking on someone who looked so vulnerable and defenseless and so … overwhelmingly gorgeous.
One thing he hadn’t expected, his heart to constrict at the sight of her looking so defenseless. All the old feelings rushed back, smacking him full force with the realization he wasn’t as finished and done with her as she was with him. All the old thoughts of what they had as teens, how her sweet irresistible charms could bend him into doing her bidding. But that had all changed. Now the knife she wielded was gutting him like he would a deer.
He had loved her from the first day he’d set eyes on her.
First grade. The opening bell hadn’t rung yet, and one of the Rueger twins was getting his kicks out of pestering anyone in sight. When Rueger’s gaze landed on the silent little girl with golden pigtails streaming down her back, lunch sack in hand, Rueger began to jab her with his finger. In a tantalizing, sing-song voice, he yelled, little Orphan Annie. Little Orphan Annie. Over and over, Rueger taunted and laughed, gathering a crowd of kids around her to add to the chorus, until Jason had enough.
At the time, Jason didn’t know who Orphan Annie was, let alone what the word orphan meant, just knew he didn’t like the Rueger twin teasing and calling her names.
When he saw Billy Jo’s determination not to cry, but couldn’t hold back the quiver of her chin, he plowed into Rueger shoving him to the ground. He told him … hush your mouth or you’ll get more where that came from. Afterward, he went and stood by her, trying his best to get her to talk, but she wouldn’t. Now the woman seemed to have plenty to say.
Aunt Maddy, what were you thinking when you wrote your idiotic will?
All his troubles had come to roost in this one dynamite package sitting in front of him. If he didn’t handle the bundle with kid gloves, everything just might explode in his face.
“I’m sure I don’t know the half of your problems—” Billy Jo paused glancing down at her hands.
Trust me you don’t.
“—but the children stand to lose the most.” She released a heavy breath looking up at him. “Please. Would you mind sitting down? I’m getting a crick in my neck, and I’ve always had an aversion to someone towering over me. And at my height, most people do.” A soft smile rested on her lips as she motioned toward a chair. Not the one he’d vacated earlier.
A grin tugged at him over her little quip and that she was doing her best to move him out of her personal space. He wondered what she’d do if he didn’t comply. Logical thought didn’t come easy in close proximity to Billy Jo and his non-compliance would appear like he didn’t want to cooperate. Relinquishing his urge to goad her more, he moved to his original seat, one chair away, his full attention on her face. Bad move. Be alert.
Her brow wrinkled, she was doing that thing with her teeth—gnawing on the inside of her lip. “Let’s think about this logically.”
He wanted to shake her. She could push his buttons like no other woman could. “You’re one exasperating woman. What do you think I’ve been trying to do?” He heard a small chuckle, then witnessed her resignation.
“I know. And—I—I apologize.”
He narrowed his eyelids wondering what she was up to. Filled with doubt, he gave a nod. “Accepted.”
“Thanks. The way I see it, we have two choices.”
“Yes. And I like neither of them.” Especially when it involves you in the mix.
“I agree. But there aren’t many avenues open to us. Only two.”
Again he noticed her slight hesitation. Was she playing him? Seeing if she could make him vulnerable? She’d see. He couldn’t be easily duped by a woman. Billy Jo and his late wife Lindsey had done their work well. Trusting the fairer sex wasn’t something he did any more.
Still not convinced the children’s welfare was the inducement to Billy Jo’s willingness to come back to a place obviously abhorrent to her. He figured the money had done the trick. Who in their right mind would give up five hundred mill and change.
“I’m listening.”
With determination in her eyes, she apparently was willing to give one last grand heave-ho to persuade him. What she couldn’t know … he didn’t need persuasion, he needed the inheritance and would do what he must to save his property and livelihood.
“We can each either walk away or compromise. Act like the adults we are. Move into Rose Mansion—separate wings, of course.” He saw a look flitter across her face, but she banked her eyes to hide her thoughts. “I don’t see why this can’t work as long as we both stick to a plan.”
“Of course.” He could give her many reasons why, even with the separation of the east and west wings, it wouldn’t work—mainly her and him. No way in heaven or earth could he live under the same roof with Billy Jo. He couldn’t do this.
But he had to.
He’d give it one more try. “Okay. I want your promise if we agree, and hear me straight, I said if. I’m still not convinced this foolhardy idea will work. But, if we are going to move into the house together—” He saw her raised brow. “—s
eparate wings of course.” His voice sounded harsher than intended. He tamped down the need to lash out. “We will have to respect each other’s privacy. A strictly business arrangement. One year and we go our separate ways. Agreed?”
He saw uncertainty looming in her eyes, he wanted to reassure her everything would work out—together they could make it so. But he wasn’t convinced himself. The combination of his renewed attraction to Billy Jo and her apparent indifference had a war going on inside him—a fight to stay his distance and a fight to win her back. The only thing, if he allowed her into his heart once more and she left again, he knew he wouldn’t survive this time around.
Chapter 8
Agreed.” BJ felt like she’d just wagered her soul. But there was no going back. People depended upon her, and Jason was one of them.
He stuck out his hand. “Deal then.”
Reluctantly, she slipped her fingers into his. The warm touch of his callused but gentle grip melted away the years … Jace, her friend, companion, her. … This won’t work. “Okay.” She nodded, feeling like a small rabbit with a hungry lion between her and freedom.
Jason dropped her hand as if he’d picked up a hot branding iron. His action broke the spell surrounding her that had pulled her into a place she didn’t want to go. Second thoughts roamed freely whether she could actually go through with the move, regardless how enticing the sum of money and how needy the dependents. With her attraction to him unbelievably strong, how would she survive a year? She couldn’t afford for her emotions to get involved. Love and marriage had nothing to do with her future.
Jason rubbed his right temple.
“Headache?”
He nodded.
Humph rolled across her lips before she could stop the sound from happening. “It’ll be nothing like we’ll both have if we share a house together.” She released a small humorless laugh. “I’m curious as to the why—as you so succinctly put it—this idiotic idea. Do you think there might have been insanity in Madelyne’s bloodline?”