Chapter Three
T he jerk! Sarah took a long swig of her whiskey-laced lemonade and glared at the closed door. The arrogant jerk—implying she’d spent the last four hours buttering him up because she was afraid of being fired! Alex might be the heir apparent, but Grady had given Sarah his word that she would have a home here on Knight land for as long as she wanted.
Sarah took an angry swipe at the moisture suddenly welling in her eyes. Grady had even called her daughter last week and given her a fatherly hug when they’d come out of Judge Rogers’s chambers. Ethan and Paul had hugged her, too, and they had called her sister . Just because Alex Knight had the nerve to be alive didn’t mean she would be sent packing. She was not some disposable pawn, just because she was no longer needed to protect the children. And she sure as heck would never lower herself to groveling to keep her position.
Sarah took another swig of her drink. She’d spent twelve miserable years indebted to Martha Banks and eight years trying to be invisible to that dragon’s bully of a son. The day she buried Martha last June, Sarah had walked away from the cemetery vowing never, ever, to let anyone make her feel inadequate again. Burying Martha had ended Sarah’s last obligation to her deceased father and had finally freed her to become the heroine of her own story.
And when Grady Knight had landed on Crag Island in August, along with his grandchildren and two younger sons for a month’s vacation at her inn, he had presented Sarah with the opportunity to take the first important step toward her new life. Come keep house for them over the winter, Grady had offered, while she worked on reopening the abandoned sporting camps he’d acquired when he had bought the land they sat on several years ago. Grady’s only stipulation at the time had been for the sporting camps to be their little secret until he could convince his sons that they should be reopened. If there was one thing Sarah had never doubted, it was that she was an excellent innkeeper. And she was not going to let Mr. Jerk in there, she thought with another poisonous glare at the closed door, belittle her talents.
She wasn’t turning his kids into brats, she was civilizing them. Delaney was learning to sew and finally taking an interest in what she wore and how she did her hair. And Tucker was finally able to cut his own meat without endangering himself or anyone close by. Even Ethan’s and Paul’s manners had improved. Grady had confessed to Sarah that his wife, Rose, had drilled manners into her sons from birth but that they may have grown a bit lax since her death seven years ago. Not that they were barbarians, they just needed some feminine input, Grady had explained. Rose had died just months after Tucker was born, and since Charlotte had run off two years later, the whole family had grown sort of ragged around the edges.
Mr. Alex Knight could use a refresher course in manners as well, Sarah decided as she tilted her glass to catch the last drops of lemonade before turning to the counter to cut up more lemons. She quickly made another pitcher and refilled the bottom third of her glass with whiskey from the extra bottle in the pantry, then topped it off with lemonade, hoping Alex was gulping down his own whiskey. If he felt half as exhausted as he looked, the whiskey should knock him clean off his feet until tomorrow morning. Sarah smiled as she sipped her new drink, quite proud of her plan to ply Alex with liquor until he passed out. It was amazing what one could learn from novels, and she couldn’t wait to climb into bed so she could find out how Rachel Foster was going to get out of the mess she was in. When Sarah had stopped reading last night, Rachel had been sneaking through the secret tunnels of the beautiful mansion she’d helped her father design, trying to replace a stolen emerald earring. Tonight Sarah hoped to reach the part of the story where the sexual tension that had been building between Rachel Foster and Keenan Oakes finally exploded.
Sarah swirled the ice in her half-empty glass and eyed the great-room door. Too bad Alex was such a jerk. He was a little on the thin side and a bit banged up, but he had the overall look of a romance hero. Especially those crystal blue eyes that could get a woman all hot and bothered if he ever turned on the charm. Assuming he wanted a woman’s attention, because he sure as heck hadn’t been trying to charm her!
Sarah had caught him staring at her chest, but then, most men did. It was the main reason Roland Banks had married her; showing up with a curvy blond wife on his arm had been a great disguise. But Alex Knight was just a typical lech.
When the phone rang in the other room, Sarah immediately rushed to the door, pressing her ear against it to listen.
“Hello,” she heard Alex say. “Ethan! Ethan, it’s me, Alex!”
There was a moment’s silence, and then Sarah heard, “Ethan, listen, it really is me. I’m not dead, brother,” Alex said softly. “I didn’t get shot, because I escaped into the jungle. It took me eleven days to make my way out…. No, no, I’m fine, I promise. I tried calling home from the U.S. embassy in Brazil, but no one answered. Is Grady there? And Delaney and Tucker?”
There was an even longer silence, then Sarah heard Alex pull in a shuddering breath and softly say, “No, don’t wake the kids. You’ll never get them back to sleep. I want to talk to Dad. Put him on. Wait! Tell him first, so he doesn’t have a heart attack when he hears my voice.”
Sarah straightened and took a large gulp of lemonade as she fought back tears. She could just imagine Grady and Ethan in their hotel room in Portland, Ethan telling Grady that his son was alive.
“D-Dad,” Alex said, his voice thick with emotion. “Jesus, Dad, don’t cry. I’m okay. I’m home, and I promise you that I’m perfectly fine.”
Sarah pressed her ear up to the door again, wiping a tear running down her cheek. She was so happy for Grady and Ethan, though sad that their reunion had to be taking place over the phone. But tomorrow would be a great celebration. And she would make sure it was extra special for them, when the whole family sat down at the table again.
“Yes, Dad, I met Sarah.” Sarah pressed her ear closer. “Yes, she’s very sweet, though I was surprised to find myself married to her…. No, I didn’t make a scene.”
Another flat-out lie! Alex Knight was a compulsive liar.
“Yes, of course I will be a gentleman…. No, Dad, I won’t say anything to her until you get here…. I promise you that I’m fine. I’ll tell you all about it when you get home…. Yes, we’ll discuss the situation then. Give Delaney and Tucker a kiss for me, will you? Lord, I can’t wait to see them…. Okay, then, good night. I’ll be waiting on the dock for you at daybreak. I love you, too,” he finished thickly. Sarah had to use her apron to dry her tears this time, and she gulped down the last of her lemonade as she made her way back to the counter. Good grief, she was going to be a bawling geyser tomorrow when Delaney and Tucker saw their daddy.
“Sarah! Do you have any Band-Aids?”
There he was shouting again, not two minutes after promising Grady he’d be a perfect gentleman.
“Yes!” Sarah shouted back, only to slap her hand over her mouth. She never, ever shouted. She set her glass on the counter and reached into a top cupboard for the first-aid supplies, grabbed the box of Band-Aids and a tube of salve, and spun around to march into the great room before the jerk shouted again.
But Sarah had to grab the counter instead when the kitchen suddenly started spinning. Uh-oh, she probably shouldn’t have had that third glass of lemonade. She took a deep breath, blinked several times to get back her focus, then slowly and deliberately walked to the door and opened it.
“The whiskey went straight to my legs,” Alex said, giving her a lopsided smile. “Or I would have come into the kitchen and asked nicely.”
Sarah could only stare, amazed at how a simple smile could change a man so drastically. Now Alex looked more like his girl-crazy brother Paul than his serious brother Ethan. “That’s okay,” she said, carefully walking up and dropping the salve and Band-Aids onto the couch beside him. She turned to leave, but Alex caught her by the hand and pulled her back to face him. Only she didn’t exactly face him but lost her balance and fell onto his lap.
“Whoa!” he said with a grunt of surprise, catching her in his arms with a laugh. “Don’t run off. I want to tell you that I spoke with Grady.”
“I-I heard,” she whispered, utterly mortified as she tried to scramble off him. His arms tightened around her, and his smile widened until there were two dimples showing on his cleanly shaven cheeks. “They’re going to leave Portland early, so they can be home by daybreak.”
“I see,” Sarah barely got out, feeling heat climbing up her throat. Holy smokes, she was sitting on his lap! And he didn’t appear ready to let her go anytime soon.
Her blush kicked up several notches as their eyes met, and just as she’d suspected, when Alex Knight decided to turn on the charm, the woman on the receiving end definitely got hot and bothered. Sarah was near burning up. And there wasn’t one weak muscle in his body, she quickly discovered; his arms around her were rock solid, his chest felt as hard as stone, and…uh-oh, his eyes had just lowered to her mouth.
“I wanted to ask if you’ll wake me up in the morning,” he said softly, still staring at her mouth. “But I’ve decided to…I’ve decided…” His eyes finally lifted to hers. “To kiss you,” he whispered, pulling her against his stone-hard chest as he settled his mouth over hers.
Some long-buried feminine instinct compelled Sarah to hold perfectly still. Now she understood why the women in historical romance novels swooned; she couldn’t seem to catch her breath! Tiny pinpricks of awareness shot through her, tightening her skin and making her heart race as Alex’s lips moved over hers. He tasted like pork gravy and whiskey and smelled of flannel and aftershave. Was he ever going to stop?
Did she really want him to?
Sarah suddenly surprised herself by softening against him and unpursing her lips. The moment she did, he broke free and leaned away—though he didn’t loosen his hold on her, and he was back to staring at her mouth. Sarah wanted in the worst way to squirm, but that same instinct kept her still again.
His gaze finally rose to hers, his eyes a deep, dark blue under heavy eyelids. “I’m drunk, Sarah. Drunk on happiness from finally talking to my brother and dad, and drunk on the whiskey you’ve been pouring down me all evening. Don’t read anything into this.”
The heroines in her books would have slapped his face. Sarah braced her hands on his shoulders and shoved off the arrogant jerk, smiling in satisfaction when she heard him grunt. She glared at him, her hands on her hips and her chest heaving over her racing heart.
What in heck could she possibly say? No problem, I like a pulse-pounding kiss as much as any bimbo? Or Think nothing of it, Mr. Knight, I enjoy being mauled by a drunk?
Sarah gave him one last narrow-eyed glare that should have sent him back to his grave, spun on her heel, and marched to the kitchen door as steadily as she could. Alex Knight’s quiet chuckles were the last thing she heard as she slapped open the door, only to have it swing closed behind her with a soft, anticlimactic swoosh.
He was a bit more drunk than he realized. But damn it to hell, the woman was beautiful. Alex scrubbed his face with both hands, trying to rub away the feel of her lips. He’d only wanted a little taste to satisfy his curiosity, but he’d gotten a nuclear reaction that had nearly backfired on him. Sarah had felt like molten heat in his arms when she had softened against him. She had also tasted of lemonade that definitely had been laced with whiskey, which meant the woman had been pouring liquor down her own throat all evening, as well. Alex gazed at the still swaying kitchen door. Would she tell Grady tomorrow that he’d made a drunken pass at her?
Alex had heard the protectiveness in Grady’s voice on the phone tonight. And as emotional as his dad had been to learn Alex was alive, dear old softhearted Grady hadn’t been so overwhelmed that he couldn’t warn Alex to be nice to Sarah.
Alex frowned at the dying fire in the hearth. His father had been complaining for years that they needed a woman around, that Delaney needed a role model and Tucker needed mothering. So when it appeared his sons weren’t going to accommodate him anytime soon, Grady had gone out and found his own woman—whom he hadn’t hesitated to make a daughter-in-law not two days after getting the news of his son’s death.
Alex scrubbed his face again, trying to think straight. Okay, he had to give his dad credit for picking a great housekeeper. But what had Grady been thinking to bring such a tempting woman home to his three bachelor sons?
Unless…unless that was precisely why Grady had brought Sarah here. The wily old coyote. He’d been hoping to rile his sons, and likely hadn’t cared which one, as long as he got a daughter-in-law in the end.
Alex threw his head back against the couch and stared up at the moose head hanging over the mantel. The whiskey was making him see the obvious benefits of staying married to Sarah. She hadn’t exactly fought his embrace, so he’d kissed her. And she’d been just about to kiss him back when he’d come to his senses. Maybe Sarah wasn’t as averse to this marriage as he thought. Maybe she had fallen in love with Delaney and Tucker and simply couldn’t give them up. After all, she’d quickly gone along with Grady’s plan to protect them. Maybe that was why she hadn’t run away for good, as any sane woman would have, instead of coming back from her walk and feeding him. The house had grown quiet, and the kitchen lights had been turned off. Sarah must be in her room off the kitchen, which had been turned from a sewing room into the housekeeper’s bedroom after his mother died.
Alex closed his eyes and thought about heading to bed himself. He finally got up from the couch with an exhausted sigh, checked to make sure the dying embers in the hearth were banked, and headed upstairs. For eleven horror-filled days, he’d dreamed of falling asleep in his own bed to the sound of the breeze stirring the tall pines outside his window, and tonight he was finally getting his wish.