Conquering King's Heart

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Conquering King's Heart Page 10

by Maureen Child


  Once the world intruded, everything would be different.

  But he couldn’t ignore the dawn. Jesse was used to waking up early. The habit came from all those years of pulling on a wet suit and heading to the beach to sit on a board and watch the rising sun blaze across the surface of the water. As far as he was concerned, the dawn was still the best part of the day.

  Bella was sleeping when he slipped out of bed to start a pot of coffee. His housekeeper wouldn’t arrive until noon, so breakfast would be up to him. He smiled as he thought about taking Bella some coffee and then convincing her to take a nice, hot shower with him.

  Still smiling, he hit the button on the coffeepot, then walked through the quiet house to the front door. He stepped outside, picked up the paper off the porch, then went back into the house, unfolding the paper as he strolled at a leisurely pace back to the kitchen.

  While he waited for the pot to brew, he leaned back against the counter and flipped through the thin, local paper, checking out the news and admiring the ad King Beach was running. He finally hit the editorial page and paused to pour his first cup of the day. Taking a sip, he skimmed the letters to the editor and smiled as he read the complaints on everything from skateboarding kids to dogs being unwelcome on the beach.

  “Gotta love a small town,” he murmured, “there’s always someone with something to say—”

  Then he spotted one specific letter and scowled. He shot a glance at the floor above him, then deliberately took a breath, poured two more cups of coffee and tucking the paper under his arm, headed for the master bedroom. Bella was still snuggled under the quilt when he walked in and just for a second, he thought about ignoring the stupid newspaper in favor of joining her on the big bed.

  Then he shook his head, and crossed the room. Sitting on the edge of the mattress, he set the coffee on the side table and reached down to smooth her hair back from her face. She was beautiful. And terribly sneaky.

  “Bella,” he said, “wake up.”

  “What? Why?” She pulled the pillow over her head and slipped deeper beneath the quilt.

  Jesse plucked the pillow free, tossed it aside and said again, “Come on, wake up.”

  One brown eye opened and glared at him. “Jesse, it’s still dark.”

  “It’s dawn and the paper’s here. The Morgan Beach weekly.” He was watching her, waiting for her to respond.

  “That’s nice.” She sniffed and blinked blearily at him. “I smell coffee.”

  “Have some,” he said, offering her the cup as she scooted around and pushed a pillow behind her back. The sheet was drawn up, covering her breasts, and her hair was tousled. She looked beautiful. And so damn innocent.

  Funny, in all his plans for her, he’d never once considered that she might still be working against him. Plotting. Planning. Turns out, he should have.

  She took a sip, sighed, then blinked again, trying to focus on him. “Why are we awake?”

  “I always wake up early.”

  “That’s a hideous habit,” she said sleepily, giving him a soft smile, “made slightly less hideous by the fact that you at least provide coffee.”

  “Uh-huh,” he said, holding the newspaper up. “And reading material.”

  “What?” She stared at the paper he’d folded to a specific section. A second or two ticked past before her eyes went wide and she whispered, “Oh, no.”

  “Oh, yes,” he said, both eyebrows rising high on his forehead. “Your letter to the editor was printed this morning.”

  “Jesse…”

  “Wait, I want to read you my favorite part,” he said, fixing his gaze on the short, to-the-point letter she’d written.

  “Morgan Beach is selling its soul to a corporate raider who doesn’t care what happens to us and our homes as long as his company makes a profit. We should all band together and let Jesse King know that we won’t be bought. We won’t surrender who we are. Morgan Beach was here before Jesse King and it will be here long after he tires of playing at being a member of this community.”

  Bella’s eyes closed and a groan slipped from her throat. She covered her eyes with one hand as if she couldn’t bring herself to look at him. Her expression was one of pure misery and Jesse didn’t mind admitting to himself that he was glad about that, at least.

  “Very nice,” he said, sarcasm icing his tone. “I especially like the ‘corporate raider’ part. Seems to be a theme with you. And the rest of it’s pretty good, too. You should be a writer.”

  “I was angry.”

  “Was?” he repeated, picking up on that one word. “So you’re not anymore?”

  She hitched the sheet a little higher, then scooped one hand through her hair, swiping it back from her face. “I don’t know.”

  “Great, you don’t know,” he said, standing up and walking to one of the windows. Jesse felt as if he’d been kicked in the gut. He had known all along that Bella had a problem with what he’d been doing since he hit town, but damn.

  She’d just spent the night with him, all the time knowing that she’d taken another public shot at him.

  Thoughts of the night before rushed through his mind. How could she have been so eager, so responsive, if this is how she still felt about him? Strange, but he felt used. And suddenly, he realized how all the women in his life must have been left feeling.

  Hell of a time for an epiphany.

  He stared blindly out at the ocean and tried to ignore the rustle of bedsheets that told him she was getting up. But even pissed, his insides twisted, knowing she was close by and naked. How twisted was that, he wondered, to want the one woman who hated his guts?

  A moment later, she joined him at the window, his black-and-white quilt wrapped around her curvy body like a toga.

  “I’d forgotten all about writing that letter,” she said.

  “If that’s an apology, it sucks.” He tossed the newspaper onto a chair and took a gulp of his coffee.

  “It’s not an apology,” she said. “I meant it when I wrote it so I can’t apologize for that.”

  He glanced at her. “Great.” He paused, then asked, “Did you mean all that? Do you really think I don’t care what happens to this place?”

  “Jesse,” she said with a shake of her head, “when I moved here, I loved it.” She looked out the window at the ocean and the sunrise, just staining the horizon. “I’d never really had a home before. I…grew up in the foster system.”

  She said it so matter-of-factly, Jesse couldn’t even offer sympathy. But he remembered how longingly she’d looked at the photos of his family, how she’d seemed so caught up in the fact that they were a huge, yet close group. And then he thought about what it must have been like to grow up alone. What it might have been like for him if he hadn’t had his brothers and cousins. He couldn’t help feeling a stab of sympathy for the little girl she’d once been, who’d had nowhere to call home.

  And he wondered a bit that he could feel so much for her. He should have stayed pissed. Yet…looking at her, he just couldn’t seem to hold on to the feeling.

  “I loved the funky little buildings on Main Street,” she was saying, “the slow pace of town life, the cottages on the beach. The sense of community. I saw it and knew that I belonged here, as if I’d never belonged anywhere before. I spent the first year here sliding into the town, making my place, fitting in.” She turned her head and looked up at him. “You moved in and immediately started changing everything.”

  Frowning, Jesse thought he could understand now just why she’d been fighting him so hard for so long. “Nothing ever stays the same.”

  “I suppose not,” she said wistfully and turned her head again to watch the sunrise splashing brilliant color across the ocean.

  “So, change is bad, is that it?”

  “Not bad, it’s just change,” she argued. “I don’t like it. I love this town. I loved what it was and I was angry at you for—”

  “Buying up its soul?” he quoted, feeling the sting of the words again.
He’d never meant to be a corporate raider. Hadn’t wanted to be a corporate anything. And yet, somehow it had happened to him. He’d made his peace with it. Even come to enjoy what he’d made of his life. Until he found Bella. And now suddenly, he was left feeling that, somehow, the success he’d achieved was only failure, cleverly disguised.

  She closed her eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you—well, no, I guess I did mean to. But that was before.”

  “Before you were back in my bed?” he asked, feeling a small stab of temper. “Guess it would be a little embarrassing to be attacking in public the same guy you’re sleeping with in private.”

  “It’s not that, Jesse,” she said, clutching her toga to her chest tightly with one hand. “I think I might have been wrong about you and—”

  “Might? Might have been wrong?” He laughed shortly. “Well, hell, Bella. That’s damn nice of you.”

  With her free hand, Bella reached out, grabbed his upper arm and held on. Looking up into his eyes, she said, “I was wrong about you. I admit it. I wanted to hate you because it was easier that way. I wanted you to leave Morgan Beach because I didn’t want to have to see you and not have you. I wanted…”

  “What?” he asked, his voice low, his gaze fixed on her.

  “You, Jesse,” she said. “I wanted you, and couldn’t admit it, even to myself.”

  He took a breath, inhaling the fresh, clean scent of her, then reached out and skimmed his fingers through her thick, soft hair. His gaze moved over her, settled on her mouth briefly and then lifted to meet her troubled eyes. “And now you’re admitting it?”

  She deliberately released her hold on the quilt and it swished to the floor at her feet. Moving into him, she slid her hands up over his chest and then hooked her arms behind his neck. “I’m admitting it. I’ll even write a retraction to the paper, if you want.”

  He gave her a lazy smile, dismissing the irritation of seeing her letter in the paper in favor of enjoying having her in his arms. “I think I prefer a more private apology.”

  “Oh, I’m not apologizing,” she corrected, going up on her toes to kiss him once, twice. “I’m just saying that I’m revising my opinion.”

  “Enough to consider making Bella’s Beachwear a part of King Beach?” he asked.

  She huffed out a breath. “Enough to think about considering it.”

  He laughed a little. “I can live with that.”

  Then he picked her up, carried her to the bed and lost himself once again in the wonder of her.

  Nine

  Everything was different, Bella thought.

  Since that incredible night with Jesse a few days ago, they’d been together nearly every day. She was at King Beach or he was at her shop and they were talking business. He’d asked her advice on how to make his swimwear “greener” and had actually listened to her opinions. He was meeting her weavers and seamstresses and still trying to talk her into joining King Beach.

  And for the first time, Bella was tempted. She still wasn’t interested in success just for the sake of making money. But he’d dangled the hope of reaching women nationwide with her specialty suits and that was something she couldn’t easily dismiss. With King Beach, she could find ways to make her cottage industry viable in a bigger setting and still maintain the kind of quality she insisted on.

  But more than all that, being with Jesse was becoming the best part of her days. And nights. They were together every night now. At his house. At her house. On the beach, recapturing their very first time together. Her heart was full. She felt…amazing.

  And she was terrified.

  Bella was in love and just knew it wasn’t going to end well. Despite how attentive he was now, Jesse King was simply not the forever kind of guy. Sooner or later, he’d get tired of what they had and he’d move on. And Bella knew the pain that was headed her way was something she might never recover from.

  In self-defense, she should have started pulling away from him. Keeping a safe distance between her heart and Jesse. But she couldn’t bring herself to give up what she could have now to protect herself in the future. Wasn’t it better to enjoy what you had while you had it? There would always be time for pain later.

  “You’re thinking about him again.”

  She blinked, looked at Kevin and smiled. “How can you tell?”

  “You’re drooling.”

  Quickly, she lifted one hand to her mouth, then sneered at her best friend. “Oh, that’s very funny.”

  He smiled at her over the lunch table. “You look happy, Bella. It’s nice to see.”

  “I am happy,” she said, but her voice carried a wary tone.

  “But…”

  “But,” she said, stirring her iced tea, “it’s not going to last, Kevin. One of these days, Jesse’s going to move on and I’m not looking forward to it.”

  “How do you know?” He reached across the table and patted her hand. “Seems to me he’s spending a lot of time with you. A guy doesn’t do that if he’s not interested.”

  “I know,” she said, and pushed her plate aside. She wasn’t really hungry anyway. “He’s interested now. But how long can it last?”

  “Jeez, Bella.” Kevin shook his head at her. “Maybe you should give him a chance to screw up before you punish him.”

  “I’m not punishing him,” she argued.

  “Maybe not, but you’re already rehearsing your goodbye speech.”

  “I’m just preparing myself,” she countered, “and you’d think that my best friend would approve.”

  “Your best friend thinks you’re nuts,” Kevin told her, sitting back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. “Seriously, when you don’t have him, you’re miserable. When you do have him, you’re crazy. Women are nuts.”

  “Thanks. Have you told Traci your theory?” His girlfriend, a model for one of the bigger agencies in California, was constantly traveling and had been gone from Morgan Beach for almost four weeks this time.

  “Of course,” he said. “She says I’m wrong. Just like you. But you’re women. You can’t see it.”

  “Uh-huh, and if we’re crazy, why do you guys want to be with us?”

  He grinned. “So where’s Mr. Wonderful today anyway? You haven’t had lunch with me in more than a week. Usually you’re with him.”

  “He said he had to meet someone. Didn’t say who.” Bella frowned a little.

  “So naturally, you’re thinking it’s some other woman.”

  Bella’s eyes widened. “Well, I wasn’t. Until now.”

  Kevin sighed. “Eat your alfalfa sprouts.”

  “She’s making me insane,” Jesse muttered.

  “Not so hard to do if you ask me,” Justice King told his younger brother and affixed his pliers to the end of the barbed wire before twisting it around a fence post.

  “That’s nice, thanks.” Jesse shoved his hands into his jeans pockets and stared out over the rolling hills and fields of his brother’s ranch. There was a cold wind blowing and afternoon sunshine spilled out of a sky studded with massive gray clouds. Idly, Jesse wondered if they might be in for an end-of-summer storm.

  He’d made the two-hour trip to Justice’s ranch in just under an hour and a half. He’d picked up a speeding ticket along the way, but it had still been worth it. He’d needed to get out of Morgan Beach. Needed a little distance from Bella. Needed to clear his head and driving fast was one sure way to do it.

  He was seeing way too much of her, he told himself. Every day. Every night. She was becoming a part of him, threading herself so seamlessly into his life, he couldn’t even imagine a way of getting her out again. When he was with her, he was touching her. When he wasn’t with her, he was thinking about her.

  What the hell was happening to his life?

  “This is serious, Justice,” he said, shooting a glare at his older brother. “She’s slipping into my life and I’m letting it happen.”

  “Maybe that’s a good thing,” Justice told him, snipping off th
e end of the wire and tucking it into his jeans pocket. “Maybe you’re tired of the babe-of-the-week routine. Ready for something different. Permanent.”

  His insides went cold and still. “Hold on, nobody said anything about permanent.”

  “Crap, you just went white.” Justice laughed, walked back to his truck and set the pliers down in the locked down toolbox in the bed. “It’s good to see.”

  “Yeah, because it worked out so well for you.”

  Instantly, Justice’s grin faded. “What happened between me and Maggie has nothing to do with anything.”

  “Sure, we can talk about me, but not Maggie.” Jesse kicked at the dirt, sent a spray of it toward the truck and glared at his brother.

  “You came to me, Jesse. Remember?” Justice tugged the brim of his dust-colored cowboy hat down low over his eyes. “If you’re having problems with a woman they’re your problems, not mine.”

  “Fine. Forget it. Damn close-mouthed bastard.” Justice never had told anyone what had gone wrong between him and his estranged wife, Maggie Ryan. The whole family had been nuts about Maggie, yet one day she and Justice had separated, neither of them offering an explanation.

  That was a year ago, and still, his brother was completely mute on the subject.

  After a minute or two, Jesse blurted, “Look, you’re the only one of us to ever get married. Who the hell else should I ask?”

  “Try Travis. Or Jackson. Or hell, even Adam,” Justice told him, ticking off the names of three King cousins who’d all been happily married for a couple of years now.

  “They’re not around—you are.”

  “Lucky me.”

  “How the hell is a man supposed to deal with having only one woman in his life?” Jesse asked. “I’ve never done that before. Never had a long-standing girlfriend. Never wanted one. I like the no-strings-attached approach to dating, you know?”

  “So, have no strings,” Justice told him.

  “But Bella’s not that kind of woman,” Jesse muttered, shoving one hand through his hair. “She’s got strings all over the damn place and I keep getting tangled up in them.”

 

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