Westmoreland's Way - Brenda Jackson [46]
She frowned. “Doesn’t my engagement ring mean anything?”
He was tempted to laugh at that question. “No, not even when you’re wearing it. And I notice that you don’t hesitate to take it off when it suits you to do so,” he said, knowing his words would stir her fiery anger even more.
At the moment he didn’t care. He had fallen in love with her. If he hadn’t been sure of it before, he’d known it as fact the moment she had taken the initiative and had plied him with her kiss. It seemed while she’d been ravishing his mouth with her tongue, emotions he had never felt before, deeper than he’d ever thought they could go, had consumed him, broken him down and reeled in his heart.
“Remember what I said? I give, you take and no regrets? I may have forgotten to mention that in rare situations, I claim. This is one of those situations.”
She shifted to ease up but he had her leg pinned beneath his. Her frown deepened and then she said, “It’s complicated, so it won’t do any good to tell you anything.”
“Humor me. Tell me anyway.”
She looked away from him but he heard her words nevertheless. “What makes you think there is something to tell?” she asked.
“Because you’re here in this bed with me, and by your own confession a few nights ago, you’ve admitted you’ve never slept with Mallard, the man you’re engaged to marry. And,” he said, reaching out and tilting her chin upward, bringing her face back in focus to his so their gazes could meet, “you’re not a woman who could be in love with one man and sleep with another.”
“You don’t know that,” she all but snapped.
He continued to hold her gaze as he took her hand, led it to his lips and then placed a kiss on her knuckles. “Yes, I do.”
For some reason deep down she actually felt that he did. No, she wasn’t a woman who could love one man and sleep with another. In all actuality, he was the man she loved, but it would take more than love to help her now.
“Pam?”
She breathed in deeply and said, “I have to marry Fletcher.”
He lifted a bemused brow. “Why?”
She hesitated for a moment before saying, “My father died and left a second mortgage on our home. Although I’ve worked out a monthly payment arrangement for now, which is being handled through my father’s attorney, the bank in Laramie wants the loan paid in full within ninety days. I tried applying for a loan with a bank here in town but that didn’t work out. Fletcher had offered to marry me to take care of it. And he’s promised to make sure money is there when my sisters need it for college.”
Dillon just stared at her. At first he wasn’t sure he’d heard her correctly. Then to make sure he had, he asked in an incredulous tone, “You’re entering into a marriage of convenience?”
She nervously licked her bottom lip. “No, not quite. He does want children one day, so it will not be a marriage in name only.”
“If Mallard wants to impress you with kindness why didn’t he just pay off the balance of the loan for you?” he asked, biting out the words through clenched teeth.
She looked surprised he would suggest such a thing. “I couldn’t ask him to do that. I’m talking about a balance that’s over a million dollars. Dad purchased adjoining land with the intention of reopening the dairy.”
“Even if Mallard couldn’t loan you the money, he could have cosigned for you to get it,” he said, not accepting any excuses for the man. He could recall the number of times his signature had been on such a document for his family members. “And most banks require that loans of that amount be insured in case the borrower dies,” he added. “Which bank holds the mortgage?”
“Gloversville Bank of Laramie. I guess somehow Dad got around it, which I still find rather strange. But I’ve checked with his attorney and he’s gone over Dad’s papers more than once. Dad didn’t have the kind of insurance that would satisfy the loan. Mr. Gadling has been