The Heart Breaker (40 page)

“Yes, I’m mad at you! I’m furious at you for what you did to my friend.”

“Your friend?”

“You broke her heart, Sloan. You made Heather love you and then you drove her away.”

He looked down at his hands. “You don’t think Randolf can give her a better life than I can?”

“A better life!” she yelled at him. “That is utter
hogwash! Wealth and prestige never meant spit to Heather. If you haven’t figured that out by now, then you’re a complete fool.”

“I think you’re right,” Sloan agreed quietly. “I am a damned fool.”

His admission took a little wind out of Cat’s sail, but she crossed her arms and eyed him with a fierce glare. “So what does that mean?”

“It means that I know it’s my fault she left me.”

“Do you love her?”

Sloan looked away. In his mind’s eye, he saw Heather, her beautiful face softly alight with passion and love.

“Dammit, Sloan,
do you love her?”
he heard Cat demand furiously.

There was only one answer he could give. He loved Heather. It frightened him how much. How much he cared for her, how much he needed her.

He needed her warmth, her healing touch. He’d kept himself wrapped in darkness for so very long, but Heather had chased back the darkness. She had fought him, fought
for
him. She’d made him remember how to dream and how to hope. How to love. Her love had unlocked the cold prison of his heart.

He felt as if he’d awakened from a long sleep. Love. The kind of love that was wild and free. The kind that seared the heart.

“Yes,” Sloan whispered in a raw voice. “I love her. So much I hurt with it.”

He looked up to meet Wolf’s dark eyes, expecting to see regret and resignation. Instead he saw compassion, approval. Wolf knew it was time for him to let Doe go.

Caitlin raised her hands in exasperation. “Well, you sure have made a fine mess of things. So what are you going to do about it?”

“Do?” he repeated absently.

“You have to go after her.”

He meant to do just that. In fact, he’d planned to set out this morning, the instant he could get Janna into Caitlin’s care—though Cat had jumped the gun by showing up on his doorstep at the crack of dawn. He couldn’t bear to lose Heather. He didn’t know precisely where she’d gone, but he would tear Denver apart with his bare hands to find her if he had to.

“You’re not going to let Randolf have your wife without a fight?” Jake prodded more gently, mistaking his silence.

“No.”

“We’ll care for Janna,” Caitlin offered. “Heather told me she has an interview at one o’clock with her prospective employer … Mrs. Phoebe Sharp. And I think Randolf was staying at the Windsor Hotel. That’s probably where you can find her. If you go now, you can get there before they leave.”

“Go,” Wolf pressed, “and bring your wife home.”

Sloan looked at them, his family. The people who loved him, urging him to salvage his future.

His hand shaking, Sloan raked his fingers through his hair. What if it was too late? What if he had destroyed Heather’s love?

For a moment he was struck again by the raw panic that had filled him when she’d left. He rose to his feet, desperation running through him like a knife.

He had driven her away. The knowledge kept ricocheting inside his skull as he turned toward the door.

T
he Windsor Hotel looked much as she expected, with its ornate gilt trappings and elegant gold and crimson furnishings. Yet Heather was blind to her surroundings as she sat numbly on the brocade chaise longue in her room.

Evan had been quite kind to leave her alone after luncheon, allowing her time to collect herself before her interview. The problem was, she couldn’t manage it. She couldn’t stop crying.

Despairingly her fingers closed around the gold piece Sloan had so contemptuously given her. Tears slipped down her cheeks as painful memories flooded her, each more cruel than the last. Sloan declaring he could never love her. Sloan seducing her body that last time, proving how quickly her resolve faded at his slightest touch. Sloan making no effort to prevent her from leaving.

Her throat closed on a sob. A soft rap on the door made her lift her head with a start. Swallowing hard, she called, “Come in.”

A bellboy peered inside the room. “Beg pardon, ma’am, but Mr. Randolf says he’ll be waiting for you downstairs in the lobby.”

“Thank you. Would you tell him I’ll join him in a moment?”

She sat there after he’d gone, her stomach clenched in knots. This step was so final. Denver was so far away from everything and everyone she had grown to love....

Heaven help her, she couldn’t do this. She couldn’t leave Sloan. Even with all the heartache he’d caused her, the pain of living with him was preferable to the pain of living without him. She couldn’t leave.

Dashing the tears from her eyes, she rose and resolutely put on her bonnet. Then she caught up her reticule and made her way downstairs.

The hotel lobby was crowded, mainly with gentlemen in business suits, although there were a few ladies like herself. Heather glanced around her uncertainly, anxious to speak to Evan. Fortunately it was only a moment before she spied him in a sitting area, half hidden by a potted palm. He was reading a newspaper, but he tossed it aside when he saw her.

“Evan, forgive me,” she murmured when she reached him, “but I’ve made a mistake.”

Rising abruptly, he took her hands and surveyed her tearstained face with concern. “My dear, what is the matter? You appear distraught.”

“I am. I can’t do this.”

“You can’t attend the interview? Mrs. Sharp is expecting you shortly, but I’m certain we could postpone it to another day.”

“No, I mean I can’t stay here, in Denver.”

“It’s that McCord fellow, isn’t it? You can’t bring yourself to forsake him.”

“Yes… Sloan is my husband, Evan. I’m sorry, but my place is with him.”

“Heather … I fear this is pure folly. Is there
nothing I can do to persuade you otherwise?”

“No. I must go back.”

Evan gave a long sigh. “Very well. I will have your baggage loaded into the carriage and escort you home.”

“Please, I couldn’t allow you to go to such trouble after all you’ve done for me—”

“But I couldn’t permit you to travel on your own. I would never forgive myself if harm came to you.”

Filled with gratitude, Heather raised herself up and pressed her lips against his cheek. “I can never thank you enough for your kindness.”

Evan responded with a pained smile. “I only wish you could feel something more for me than mere appreciation—”

The words had barely left his mouth when he was suddenly hauled backward, his hands torn from Heather’s grasp. She watched in shock as a hard fist contacted his jaw and he went flying to land with a thud on the floor.

A hush fell over the hotel lobby. Evan lay sprawled on the elegant carpet, staring up at his assaulter, who stood towering over him, his expression fierce and dangerous.

Heather had quit breathing.
Sloan.
Dear heaven....

“I’ll thank you to keep your hands off my wife,” Sloan grated through his teeth.

“It wasn’t… what you think,” she managed to murmur.

Wincing, Evan rubbed his bruised jaw. “Indeed. I must say, Mr. McCord, this is getting to be a
most
annoying habit of yours.”

Ignoring him, Sloan turned to her. “I have to talk to you. In private.”

She couldn’t form a reply. She could simply stare, not daring to hope.

Evan shook his head. “I don’t suppose you care that you are causing a scene, Senator.” When neither of them appeared to hear, he climbed to his feet and brushed off his elegant frock coat. “Very well, I suggest you retire upstairs for your discussion. I shall make my apologies to the hotel management for the disturbance. I only dare hope a man of my consequence can withstand the indignity of being tossed on his backside.”

Heather glanced around her. They were indeed causing a scene. Several people were staring, including the desk clerk. Under normal circumstance she might have felt embarrassment, but just now she was too filled with anxiety to care what other people thought. She only wished to be alone with Sloan.

He must have felt similarly. Without waiting for her agreement, Sloan took her hand and pulled her up the elegant mahogany stairway.

“There…” Heather indicated her room when he seemed to be searching along the hallway. He drew her into the room and shut the door behind them.

Once inside, however, he abruptly released her. For a moment he simply stared. “You’ve been crying,” he whispered.

Absently she wiped at the stains on her cheeks. “It doesn’t matter. What… are you doing here?”

“I’ve come to beg you not to leave me.”

“Why?”

“Because I need you. Because Janna needs you.” His voice cracked slightly. “Because I want you for my wife. Please, will you stay?”

Her disbelief showed in her golden eyes. “Why should I?”

“Because I love you,” Sloan replied—too harshly, he realized. He heard Heather’s soft, ragged
intake of breath. At her shocked expression, his chest twisted.

“I love you,” he said again, without the sharpness. “Maybe I don’t have the right to ask you to stay, Heather. I know I’ve hurt you … I know I’ve done nothing to deserve your love… But I’m asking you to give me another chance.”

The naked vulnerability in his face struck her like a physical blow. That expression in his eyes, so desperate and haunted, distressed her.

She felt the same desperation. The yearning in her heart was so painful, she thought she might faint.

“You love me?” she whispered, her eyes wide with uncertainty.

“Yes.” How could he not love her? Her devotion to his daughter, her fierce courage, her compassion. … She had faced the harsh challenges of this land, the trials of his failing cattle empire, without flinching. He loved her. Needed her. Even more desperately than she’d once needed him, when she’d been burdened by the crush of financial debts. It had taken nearly losing her to make him realize just how very much.

His heart slamming into his ribs, he took a step closer. “I want to build a future with you, Heather. I want to have children with you. I want to share my life with you. If you don’t want to live on the ranch, I could sell it… We could move somewhere where you could be happy.”

She closed her eyes in wonder, cherishing the words she’d been longing for, waiting for, forever.

“Heather?” he asked, his voice a hoarse rasp. “God, please say something. Tell me if I still have a chance.”

“I… never thought you could love me.”

“I do. As heaven is my witness, I do.” He closed
the distance between them, his face harsh with strain. “I didn’t want to. I fought it from the first moment we met. I was afraid to love you, afraid you’d be taken from me like Doe was. You were right. I had to let go of my guilt. But I think I’ve done that, Heather. Doe doesn’t claim my heart any longer, you do. I love you. I can’t live without you. Please…”

She gazed up at him, her beautiful eyes blurred with tears, filled with hope.

Hardly daring to breathe, Sloan reached for her, his shaking hands framing her face beneath her bonnet. He kissed her very slowly, carefully, like he’d found something fragile, precious. Like he would shatter if she turned him away. He was desperate to reclaim her, to bridge the chasm between them with wordless, unbreakable bonds.

He could feel her trembling, feel himself trembling, as he whispered, “Heather, can you ever forgive me?”

She heard the pain in his voice, heard the pleading, and her heart broke. He was so tough, so impenetrable, so vulnerable. “Yes, Sloan … I forgive you.”

He drew back so he could again see her eyes. “You said you loved me. Did you really mean it?”

“Yes, I meant it.” The tears spilled over her eyes; she knew she was crying and couldn’t help it. “I love you. I’ve loved you for so long—”

He stopped her words with his mouth. He hauled her against him and kissed her, deep and fierce this time, telling her without speaking how desperately he needed her, wanted her. When he felt her quivering response, desire filled him, desire and joy and wonder.

He ended the kiss at last, although he didn’t let her go. Instead his arms wrapped around her. He
stood holding her close, molding her against him.

“I love you.” His whisper was wild and low. “These last weeks have been a torment. You don’t know how much.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Heather, I want to stop hurting.”

“So do I,” she whispered.

“Then you won’t leave me?”

Nodding against his shoulder, she gave a tearful laugh. “I wasn’t leaving, Sloan. I couldn’t bear to, even knowing you could never love me. I had already decided to return home before you came. Evan had just offered to escort me when you hit him.”

“I went crazy when I saw you kiss him.”

“It was only gratitude.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely sure.”

He seemed to relax, but then he drew back to stare at her, his look intense. “Heather, Wolf gave me part of his gold mine—Doe’s share, he said. I swallowed my pride and took it, mainly for Janna’s sake. The money will let me rebuild the ranch, but if you’d rather live here in Denver, or even St. Louis…”