Shadows At Sunset - Anne Stuart [28]
“Oh, just consider me part of the family,” Coltrane offered.
“I’m going to get another drink,” Dean said, rising abruptly. “You want one, Zack?”
“No, thanks.” Coltrane watched as Dean disappeared into the house, leaving the two of them together, alone on the terrace. Then he turned to look at her. “So don’t mince words. What have you got against my living here? I promise, I’m relatively harmless.”
She allowed herself a hoot of laughter. “I don’t know if you manage to convince other people of that, but you’re not going to convince me. I grew up with Jackson as my father—I know a snake when I see one.”
“You think I’m like Jackson?” He didn’t like that—she could see it quite plainly.
“Ruthless, ambitious, capable of cold-blooded charm when you need it. Yup, I’d say you’re exactly like Jackson Meyer. It’s no wonder he’s chosen you as his protégé over his own son. After all, most men want someone in their own image to carry on. I’m afraid he failed with me and Dean and Rachel-Ann, so now he’s gone on to looking outside his little family for validation. But you’re smart enough to know that, aren’t you? I wouldn’t ever make the mistake of underestimating you.” She stopped, half shocked at herself. She’d been taught to shield herself with a veneer of politeness, but somehow Coltrane had managed to shatter it without making an effort.
“I really get under your skin, don’t I?” he said after a long moment, seemingly unaffected by her hostility. “Why do you suppose that is?”
“You threaten everything I care about. You threaten my brother, you’re far too interested in my sister when what she needs is peace and quiet, and you—you bother me. Now you’ve invaded my house, as well, so there’s no escaping you.”
“My house?” he echoed. “I thought it belonged to all three of you. At least for now.”
“It does,” she said, ignoring the stab of guilt. Just because she was the only one who loved it, the only one who took care of it, didn’t make her the only one who owned it. As Dean had just reminded her. And in the end, if they ever left it, it would revert to Meyer, who’d have it razed in the blink of an eye.
“So, how do we work out a truce, Jilly?” Coltrane asked lazily. “This is a big house—you might not even know I’m here.”
“I’d know.”
“Why? Why do I bother you? Or is it more like ‘hot and bothered’?”
“Don’t flatter yourself, Coltrane,” she snapped. “You’re not my type.”
“True enough. I’m not a long-haired pretentious son of a bitch like Alan Dunbar, now am I?”
“No, you’re a bleached blond rapacious son of a bitch,” she shot back. “And you shouldn’t take my father’s opinion of my ex-husband as gospel.”
“I don’t. I’ve dealt with your ex on any number of occasions. Every time he tries to get more money out of Meyer.”
It felt like a punch in the stomach. She’d been divorced from Alan for two and a half years, and Coltrane had only been in town half that time. It was a pain she thought she was over. No longer the pain of betrayal, it was now merely the pain of her own needy stupidity. “I hope you make sure he doesn’t get any,” she said in a deceptively cool voice.
“Depends what kind of evidence he has. I can’t say much for your taste in men. You might consider bleached blond rapacious sons of bitches for a change of pace.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Don’t think what?” Dean was back, handing a tall glass to Coltrane before he took his seat opposite. “What did I miss?”
“Jilly and me coming to a peaceful agreement,” Coltrane said. “As long as I keep out of her hair she’ll let me stay.”
Dean raised an eyebrow. “Don’t be ridiculous, Coltrane. This is a democracy, even if Jilly’s the alpha wolf in our little pack. I say you can stay and so will Rachel-Ann. Even if she disagrees, Jilly’s opinion should be immaterial.”
“If I were you, Dean, I wouldn’t ever make the mistake of thinking Jilly’s opinion didn’t matter,” Coltrane said softly.
He made her absolutely crazy, Jilly thought with sudden despair. Maybe she’d throw herself on Jackson’s mercy to get him out of there.
Except that Jackson didn’t have any mercy;