Sweet Seduction (The BAD BOY BILLIONAIRES Series) (8 page)

Jake’s face darkened with emotion and his fingers
tightened on the stem of his glass till Sam thought it would snap in two.  “It
was a car accident,” he said, his voice brittle and harsh.  “I was the one
driving.”

Sam stifled a gasp and held her tongue.  Now was not
the time to interrupt.

“I…wasn’t paying attention.  I took my eye off the
road for one split second and…that was all it took.”  His jaw tightened and he
looked away, eyes narrowed as if seeing the accident all over again.  “The SUV
in front of us stopped suddenly and I ran into the back of it.  It wasn’t a
huge van but…Jessica wasn’t wearing her seatbelt.”  He looked at Sam then, and
his face was gray with pain.  “I didn’t know.  I thought she’d buckled up.  She
cracked her head against the windshield.  She never…woke up from her coma.”

It was then that Sam reached for his hand.  She had to
do something, even if just that.  She couldn’t bear to see him in so much
pain.  “It wasn’t your fault, Jake.  It was an accident.”

He shook his head sadly.  “But it was an accident I
caused.  When I took my eyes off the road it was to glance at her.  We got into
an argument over something stupid…I can’t even remember what.  All I remember
is that I said something in anger, looked at her…and then she screamed.”

“I am…so sorry.”  The words were so bare, so
inadequate, but Sam didn’t know what else to say.  What do you tell a man
drowning in a sea of guilt, a man who refused to be comforted because he felt
he deserved to suffer?

“If it weren’t for me she’d still be alive.”  He
pulled his hand away from her grasp and sat back in his chair.  Then he folded
his arms across his chest.  “What right do I have to be happy when the woman I
loved is dead and I was the one who killed her?”

Sam slid her hand from off the table and returned it
to her lap.  As she watched Jake she could see his emotional struggle in the
resolute set of his jaw and his defensive posture, folding his arms as if to
lock himself away from anyone who would dare reach out to him in sympathy.

So that was it.  The problem was not with her, it was
with Jake.  Because of his feelings of guilt he’d decided that he should suffer
all the days of his life. 

Which made things even worse for Sam.  Competing with the
ghost of his late wife was one thing but trying to convince a guilt-ridden man
that he deserved happiness was a horse of a different color.  You can’t save a
man who doesn’t want to be saved.  Jake’s healing could not come from her.  He
would have to find that will within himself.

Until then, as far as winning his love was concerned,
Sam now knew that she didn’t have the chance of an ice cube in hell.

CHAPTER SIX

“So how’s my girl doing?”  Alvin trudged into the
office in his muddy work boots without wiping his feet.  As usual.  At Meg’s
sharp look he dropped his toolkit and backed out.  “Alright, alright,” he
muttered as he went back down the steps.  “Sheesh.”

Meg looked across at Sam sitting at the computer and
laughed.  “You can’t teach an old dog new tricks.”

When Alvin tramped back into the office his boots were
wet but sparkling clean, obviously freshly washed.  He must have gone round
back and turned the hose on them.  Sam grinned at her Dad.  Smart man.  Much
easier than sitting on the step, cleaning off mud.

“So how’s my girl?”  he asked again and walked over to
give her a peck on the forehead.  “You’ve been so busy with your decorating
gigs I haven’t seen much of you around the office lately.”

“I know, Dad,” she said, her tone apologetic.  “But
things have eased off a bit now.”

“Well, I’m glad to have you back,” he said with a wide
grin.  “I missed my plumbing partner.  Didn’t we, Meg?”  He walked over and
kissed his wife on the cheek.

“Sam’s not my plumbing partner and of course we miss
her,” she said and swatted at him.  “Now leave me alone.  Don’t you see I’m
trying to get these invoices done?”

He lifted his eyebrows to Sam and gave her a crooked
smile.  “That’s my wife for you, all love and kisses.”  Then he grabbed his
lunch kit and headed for the kitchen in the back.

As soon as he was out of earshot Meg dropped her stack
of invoices onto the desk and turned her sharp eyes on Sam.  “Your dad made a
good point,” she said as she tapped her pen on the desk.  That was what she
always did when she was thinking.  “For the last few weeks you’ve been so
focused on your decorating jobs we’ve hardly seen you.  Now all of a sudden you
have the time to spend four days out of a week with us?”  Meg cocked her head
to one side.  “This is the first time Alvin has come in early enough to catch
you in the office but I’ve been here all week.  With you.  What gives?”

“Oh, nothing.”  Sam shrugged, trying to look casual.

“Don’t give me that,” Meg said with a snort.  “You’ve
been moping around all week like you just lost your best friend.”  Then she
frowned.  “One of your friends didn’t die, did they?”

“No, nothing like that,” Sam said quickly before Meg
reached over and grabbed her in an unsolicited bear hug.  “I guess I’ve just
been in…low spirits, that’s all.”  As soon as the words were out, Sam realized
her mistake.  She’d given Meg the perfect opening to play mother hen.

And her stepmother did not hesitate to take the
opportunity she’d been handed on a platter.  “Oh, sweetie, what’s the matter?” 
With her stout arm she pushed the invoices to one side and the ledger paper to
the other, clearing her desk as if preparing for a consultation with a client. 
The woman should have taken up psychology as a profession, the way she loved to
listen to people’s woes and give advice.  “Tell Meg all about it,” she crooned.

Sam sighed but she only shook her head.  She wished
she could share her dilemma with someone but she hadn’t told a soul, not even
her mother, and she was not about to spill her guts to Meg.  That was one sure
way for a full and detailed report to get back to her father.

“So are you going to tell me or not?” Meg’s mouth was
set in the beginning of a pout.  She hated to be denied some juicy tidbit of
information.

“Not.”  Sam was not about to entertain her.

“Fine,” she said and settled back in her chair to
stare over at Sam.  She crossed her arms then gave a smug smile.  “You don’t
need to say a thing.  I know exactly what your problem is.”

“Oh, really.”  Sam rolled her eyes.  Meg didn’t know a
thing about her private life.  She swiveled her chair and turned back to the
computer screen.  She might as well finish up her research on color palettes
and then get out of there before her dad came back to the front office.  He’d
been known to gang up with Meg to try to influence her to do things against her
will.  Like talk.  Well, not this time.

“It’s that man, isn’t it?  That Jake McKoy fellow.”

Sam froze, her fingers hovering over the keyboard,
then she turned to Meg.  “How…” she bit her lip.  She didn’t want to say
anything to tip Meg off.  Her stepmother could easily have guessed it had
something to do with Jake.  She’d known Sam had been out there several times
for the decorating job but how had she known his name?  She hadn’t written his
full name on the work order, only J. McKoy.  And then she remembered – his
check.  His signature had looked like chicken scratch but his name had been
printed at the top, big and bold.  Meg must have read his name from that.

Then Sam relaxed.  What was she so uptight about? 
There was no way Meg could connect Jake to McKoy, the world renowned author. 
There was absolutely nothing to worry about.

Meg chuckled.  “How, she asked.  How did I know that
your long face was because of him?”  She tapped her temple with her finger. 
“Meg knows these things, Sam.  You’re looking at a woman with a lot of
experience in the world.  And that’s how I know what your real problem is.” 
She paused as if to create suspense.  Then, beaming with confidence, she said,
“You really like the guy but he can’t make up his mind who he likes more – you
or his dead wife.”

Sam almost fell out of her chair.  How in the world had
Meg guessed all that?

“Oh, don’t look so stricken.”  Meg waved a hand at
her.  “It’s all over town that this eligible bachelor is living all by his
lonesome self with a face so pale and drawn it can only mean he's grieving. 
He’s been into town a couple of times, the bank and such the like, and the old
gossips say he never smiles.”

Well, so much for keeping things secret.  Jake would be
disappointed to know he was already the topic of conversation in town and those
old girls were experts at digging up information.  The FBI had nothing on them.

The only consolation was that they had no idea who he
really was.  Or did they?  “What else did they say about him?”  Sam narrowed
her gaze as she watched Meg, trying to see if she was hiding anything.

Her stepmother shrugged.  “That’s pretty much it. 
Just that he looks like he’s alone, it looks like he’s grieving, and he must be
a widower.  Oh, and one other thing.”

Sam’s heart jerked and she held her breath.  That
other thing – was that Jake’s greatest secret?

“They said they're working on a list of girls they're
thinking of trotting out to introduce to him.  They’re thinking of throwing
some kind of barbecue at the park and inviting him.”  Meg wagged a finger at
Sam.  “So if you have any designs on the man you’d better move fast, honey, 'cause
if these old biddies have their way you’ll soon be in for a lot of
competition.  Get crackin’.”

Sam expelled her breath and Meg must have sensed her
sadness because she rolled her chair forward and touched her hand.  “I know, I
know,” she whispered.  “He’s resisting and it’s driving you crazy.”

Sam frowned.  Had Meg been studying mind reading or
something?

“I know people, Sam, and men?  They're my specialty.” 
Meg patted her arm.  “When a man is grieving it’s the hardest thing for him to
talk about how he’s feeling.  He’s got to be tough all the time.”

Sam nodded slowly. Meg was making sense.  So far.

“The problem is, it makes things worse for him.  With
all that sadness bottled up inside he can’t heal.  He can’t move on.  I bet he
hasn’t even said goodbye to his wife.”

“Said goodbye?”  Sam was frowning again.  Now this was
where Meg’s line of reasoning began to break down.  The man must have gone to
his own wife’s funeral.  Wouldn’t that have been enough of a goodbye?

“Sam, trust me on this,” Meg said.  “If he’s still
grieving that means he hasn’t really said goodbye.  He may have been there when
she was laid to rest but he never let go.  Not really.  There’s something
holding him back.  Isn’t there, Sam?  You can tell me.”

“Why…yes, there is.”

Meg put up her hands.  “I knew it.  He feels guilty. 
Nine times out of ten that’s the reason they can’t let go.  But let me tell you
something,” she leaned forward as if sharing a dark secret, “if that man is
ever going to love again he will have to say goodbye.  And since he probably
doesn’t know that, it’s going to fall on you to tell him.”

“But…how do you know all this?”  Sam stared at her,
confused.  Meg had spoken as if she’d been right there in Jake’s house,
observing him and taking notes.  This was all so weird.

"Well, you haven’t denied anything I’ve said so
far, have you?”  When Sam didn’t answer Meg chuckled.  “A lot of it was just
speculation but I was right, wasn’t I?”

Sam could only nod.

“Okay, so now you know what you have to do.  Talk to
him and after that I don’t want to see you with a long face around here. 
You’ve done enough moping to last all year.”  With that, Meg got up and gave
her a quick hug.  “Now let me go check on your father.  It’s way too quiet in
that kitchen.”

Sam raised an eyebrow.  “He probably fell asleep.”

Meg responded with a grunt.  “You know him well.”

When she was gone Sam stared at the computer screen.  She
was giving serious thought to Meg’s suggestion.

The problem was, that conversation would require a
whole lot of courage.

******

Jake was back in Long Island and it was all because of
Samantha Fox.

He’d been surprised when, after several days of
silence, she’d called him on the phone.  He’d been more surprised when she
brought up the subject of his wife.  And then she’d floored him with the most
bizarre suggestion he’d ever heard.  According to Sam he needed to say a proper
goodbye to Jessica.  Only then would he be able to heal.  Most important,
though, he was to ask Jessica’s forgiveness.  And that was why he was here.

Jake climbed the grassy bank to the little knoll where
Jessica’s grave lay.  His heart heavy, he approached the little mound then
stood looking down at the headstone with the angel, its arms spread wide as if
to welcome him.  “Jessica Layne McKoy” the headstone read, “1974 – 2009. 
Loving daughter, wife and friend.  May you rest in peace.”

Rest in peace.  Were there any words sadder than
those?  His heart breaking, Jake swallowed hard, fighting to keep his emotions
in check.  He lowered his head and sank to his knees in the grass.