The Bad Boy

by Leah Vale

  Joseph met his gaze steadily, all trace of sentimentality gone. "We did what we thought was best."

  Cooper remembered what Sara had said, as well as the earnestness in her vivid green eyes, and echoed, ‘"The right thing. "

  Joseph inclined his head in agreement, apparently not picking up the sarcasm in Cooper’s tone. "We really believed that Marcus had learned from his first indiscretion. But his irresponsibility apparently wasn’t hampered by the threat of being disowned."

  The burner simmering Cooper’s anger kicked up a notch, making him boil. "He simply learned how to keep it under wraps by buying the women off."

  "So it seems."

  Cooper sat back in his chair. l-le hadn’t expected Joseph to agree with him. "You knew about it, though, right?"

  Joseph studied his hands. "I learned of my other grandchildren two days ago, during the reading of my son’s will."

  Cooper could barely contain his snort. That's your story and you're sticking to it.

  The rest of what Joseph had said sank in and the muscles in Cooper’s chest clenched. "So how many half brothers and sisters do I have'?"

  "Three brothers confirmed. So far."

  Cooper scrubbed a hand over his face. “So far." He blew out a breath. "Three, including Alexander, right?"

  "Correct. You and he are the only ones in town, however. One has a ranch in Colorado and the other is in the process of being discharged from the service."

  Cooper struggled to process the information. He’d instantly gone from a man who’d grown up on the fringe of any sort of family to a man with three brothers. Half brothers, but brothers all the same. And one already lived in this very house. A strange tightness took hold of his heart.

  He refused to let the existence of brothers matter, though. The memory of his mother’s unrelenting despair over being so coldly spurned by the man she’d given her heart to was still too visceral for him. His own shame was too rooted.

  He looked around him at the expensively decorated study, which somehow managed to convey that this family deserved every one of their billions of dollars in a way the mansion built to resemble Thomas Jefferson’s Monticello on steroids couldn’t. His attention caught on an oil portrait of the McCoy family before Marcus had developed a raging case of hound-dog hormones.

  Well, now Cooper knew where his black hair came from. All three people in the portrait had a variation of it. Marcus looked to be about ten in the painting, with a mop of wavy dark hair he’d later wear slicked back, and bright blue eyes that didn’t so much as hint at the lack of feeling they’d eventually radiate.

  Cooper shifted his gaze back to Joseph, who at first glance had barely changed from the time the portrait had been painted except for his hair, which had turned steel-gray. But the death of Elise McCoy over a decade ago from cancer--according to the news, a more lingering sort than Cooper’s mother’s--and the recent death of his son had left their mark in the lines on Joseph McCoy's face.

  The knowledge did little to soothe Cooper’s bitterness. "Marcus went to such great lengths to keep us secret. Why did he put us in his will?" It sure as hell wasn’t guilt.

  Joseph pulled in a deep breath that expanded his barrel chest. "I honestly don’t know, Cooper. But will or no will, I want you boys with me."

  Easier to manage, control and contain, Cooper thought sourly.

  "Since I've decided to throw myself a big seventy-fifth birthday party next month to celebrate this unexpected gift on the heels of such a tragedy, I want you all here by then. Hopefully, the other two are being brought home as we speak, by people I trust."

  "Like Sara?"

  "Yes, like Sara, though in truth I doubt there is anyone outside the family I trust more."

  There was at least one inside the family Grandpa shouldn’t trust. And the fact Sara knew Cooper couldn’t be trusted, meant he would have to keep her off balance if he wanted to exact any sort of revenge on the McCoys for their idea of the right thing.

  And he did.

  His mother had pined for Marcus McCoy right up to the moment of her death, fat lot of good it had done her. And the pain of a boy in desperate need of nothing more than love had resurfaced to haunt Cooper with a vengeance. The injustice of it all turned Cooper’s stomach and hardened his resolve.

  As far as Sara was concerned, he’d simply have to distract her into thinking of something else besides convincing the McCoys of his true intentions. The memory of her little gasp of anticipation when he’d leaned close made distractions of a sexual nature a no-brainer. His own response to the closeness assured him the duty wouldn’t be an unpleasant one.

  And she certainly posed no other risk to him, despite the shimmer of empathy he’d seen in her big green eyes. Because there was one thing his mother’s experience had taught him that he’d never forget.

  Love stinks.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Sara was out of breath by the time she reached the bottom of the sweet-william-lined brick path behind The Big House. And it had very little to do with the speed in which she’d descended the rise. The hurt she felt from Joseph’s easy dismissal of her warnings crowded the space normally occupied by her lungs.

  But she had no choice other than to put her feelings aside for now. She had to tell Alexander McCoy what was happening.

  She’d known Alex long enough to realize that when he hadn’t been in the study with his father, awaiting the arrival of the first of his half brothers to be brought home, then there was only one place he could be on such a monumental--not to mention potentially emotionally difficult--day.

  The stables.

  If he didn’t have such a love of and an innate knack for corporate business, she’d bet Alex would have focused entirely on breeding and racing Thoroughbreds. As it was, he could spend no more time on it than one would a hobby, but she’d seen plenty of proof that being around the horses relaxed him, maybe even soothed him, the way nothing else could.

  He’d spent the past two days--since the reading of Marcus’s will--out here, not going to the office at all.

  Very, very telling as far as Sara was concerned, and her already besieged heart ached for him.

  She continued down the walkway, passing through the honeysuckle arch that provided a visual and aromatic buffer between the house and the stables, but the sharp, sweet scent of the buff-yellow flowers and the subtle buzzing of bees did nothing to calm her nerves. She didn’t want to think about what she’d do if Alex was too upset to listen to her about Cooper.

  She entered the stable through the wide doorway on the closest end of the long, low structure, built to match The Big House, with redbrick, white shutters and a miniature version of the white dome. Pulling in a lungful of the earthy, straw-and-horse-scented air that was such a contrast to the flowers outside, she looked immediately to the stall where Alex’s favorite saddle horse, a former racer retired to an easier life, was kept.

  The big bay was there, but his attention lay firmly on the tack room across from him on Sara’s right, just inside the stable door. Sure enough, through the interior window she could see Alex, dressed for riding and replacing the cheek strap on a bridle at the workbench.

  She stepped into the small room, the stable smells usurped by the heady scent of well-oiled leather.

  "Alex, I need to talk to you."

  He turned enough to glance at her, but then went back to what he was doing. She’d known him all her life, like a cousin if not a brother, but she’d never seen him look the way he did--weary, disillusioned. It was little wonder. Good heavens, to find out you were actually your brother’s son?

  "What can I do for you, Sara?"

  She couldn’t speak for a moment, stunned even more by Alex and Cooper’s similarities, despite the four-year difference in their ages. Alex’s black hair was shorter than Cooper’s, so she’d never really noticed it was equally thick and glossy, though not enough to make her lingers itch to burrow into it as Cooper’s did. Alex also had the same strong, square jaw and we
ll-proportioned nose Cooper possessed, as well as a similar build.

  How could these two men grow up in the same town and no one notice their resemblance?

  Because the improbable rarely occurred to people. They were of different worlds. Plus, Joseph had worked hard to establish himself as the symbol of high moral standards in town, so any connection would have seemed impossible. But clearly Marcus hadn’t followed his father’s standards, at least in private. He’d been so much older and traveled so often that she really hadn’t been that well-acquainted with him. Maybe he’d been secretly lashing out at his father. Or overexcelling at the one thing he was good at-charming women--though too self-absorbed to consider the consequences.

  When she still hadn’t said anything, Alex turned to her again, a familiar black eyebrow arched, though not quite as high or as sardonically. His eyes also had more gray in them, which softened the blue, and his mouth wasn’t quite as sensuous. Or tempting. At least to her. She’d known him too long, too closely, to be attracted to him.

  "Sara?"

  She blinked a few times to focus. "I’m sorry. I’m just a little stunned. You and Cooper Anders look a lot alike."

  His mouth hardened and he went back to working on the bridle. "So he’s here?"

  She took a step nearer. "Yes. I just left him and your father."

  He stilled. "You mean my grandfather."

  She cringed at her mistake. To change a lifetime’s way of thinking would take effort. So much in their lives had changed. "I’m sorry," she repeated. "This must be very diffi--"

  "Were you sent to fetch me'? Because if you were, I’m busy." His posture was stiff, and his tone was as sharp as Joseph’s had been when he’d reprimanded her.

  But this was Alexander, whom she’d played with in the small lake on the property on sweltering summer days and who’d kept a stash of tissues in his pocket for her in the weeks following her father’s death. She planted her hands 0n her hips. "l swear, if one more person interrupts me today..."

  He glanced at her, eyebrows raised curiously, then away.

  She inhaled deeply and tried to calm down. "That’s not why I came to find you. Joseph understands your...your..." She trailed off, not wanting to put to words his obvious turmoil. That would not be the way to secure his help. "I’m here because I need to talk to you. About Cooper." His name alone was enough to bring the heat back to her cheeks and the dampness back to her palms. Damn the man for rattling her so.

  "What about him? Is he buying stuff already? Beats winning the lottery, if you ask me. He doesn’t have to wait all that long to get his money." Alexander looked at her over his shoulder, his lip curled into an expression she’d never seen on him. "l imagine he’s in hog heaven!’

  Thinking of a similar expression on Cooper’s face--a contempt born of hurt and betrayal--she shook her head adamantly. "No. Just the opposite. When l took his letter to him this morning he told me he plans to ruin the company."

  Alex heaved a sigh and faced her. "He plans to ruin the company? Why in the world would he say something like that?"

  "He says he’s known since he was thirteen that he was Marcus’s son."

  Alex’s brows shot up.

  She repeated what Cooper had told her on the county-jail steps--nearly word for word, because she really WAS a very good listener.

  By the time she’d finished Alex was rubbing his temple. "Why didn’t you tell my da--my grandfather this?"

  She heaved a similar sigh, unaccustomed to being brushed aside by the man who’d given her a top spot in the company despite her being only thirty. But Alexander had been needed to fill Marcus’s shoes while Marcus gallivanted around doing client relations.

  Now, there was a euphemism.

  "I did. Sort of." She pointed toward the house. "But he got to Joseph before me."

  "He?"

  "Cooper. He arrived at the house first after I’d bailed him out of jail."

  "Jail?"

  "Yes. The county lockup. Alison Sullivan--the private investigator Joseph hired--had been on her way out of town early this morning to deliver the Colorado letter--"

  A muscle twitched in Alex’s jaw at her offhand mention of yet another half brother.

  Sara swallowed and forged on. "When she noticed Cooper’s truck in the parking lot of a bar that should have been closed, and people were hauling broken chairs out the door. Clearly, there had been a ruckus of some kind. She stopped to check it out and was told that Cooper had been one of the people arrested last night for being involved in a fight at the bar. Joseph thought it best if I went immediately to get him out as discreetly as possible and give him his letter rather than waiting until the other letters were delivered."

  Alex closed his eyes and shook his head. "Jail. Beautiful."

  "Anyway, he gave Joseph some cock-and-bull story about telling me he was worried his inexperience would cause the company harm. Now Joseph thinks I just misunderstood Cooper."

  Alex leaned back against the workbench. "Could you have?"

  She crossed her arms over her chest and raised her chin. "No. Absolutely not. He was very succinct."

  "Fine. So what would you have me do about it?"

  She let her arms fall to her sides again, confused about why he’d ask such a question when the solution was obvious. "Stop him!" What was with these McCoy men?

  "How?"

  She started to pace, sorely limited by the small size of the tack room. "l don’t know...keep him from going to work for McCoy Enterprises or something." Maybe that would protect the company her father had helped build at Joseph’s side.

  Alexander shook his head again and turned back to the workbench to resume fixing the bridle. "Marcus’s will was equally succinct, Sara. Cooper is to be given a job at McCoy Enterprises befitting a ‘Real McCoy.’ We couldn’t keep him from the company even if we wanted to."

  She wrapped her arms around her middle to still her churning stomach. "Then what do you suggest we do about him?"

  He waved a negligent hand. "You can baby-sit him."

  That stopped her dead. "What?" she croaked.

  "You keep an eye on him, make sure he doesn’t do any damage."

  Her lungs refused to work properly and a feeling akin to panic spread through her. "Me? How? No!" Not after what had happened on the jail steps and in Joseph’s office. She couldn’t think clearly around Cooper "McCoy" Anders.

  Alexander set the bridle down with a clatter and let out a noisy breath as he faced her. "Why not? If he really told you what he did--"

  She unwrapped her hands from around her waist to plant her fists on her hips again. "He did. Why won’t any of you take my word for it?"

  He raised his hands at her indignation. "Okay, he did. But why would he? Why would he admit such a thing to you, of all people."

  She rolled her eyes at the rough-beamed ceiling. "He thinks I’m some secretary the 'McCoy machine' sent as 'eye candy' to further sweeten the deal."

  She returned her attention to Alex in time to see him make a face and give a little shrug that said the assumption seemed a reasonable one to him.

  "Alex!" Heaven help her if he and his newfound half brother proved to be more alike than she’d thought possible.

  He rubbed a hand over his eyes, the weary air about him returning. "Sara, I need you to handle this. Considering...everything, I can’t deal with this, too."

  Her anger and frustration left in a rush. Everyone thought Alexander had moved on from being Marcus’s brother to his son with his usual aplomb. But it was clearly a struggle for him. His entire world had been shaken and stirred. The least she could do was deal with the issue of Cooper Anders.

  She spread her hands in capitulation. "Any suggestion how?" The image of a muzzle and leash popped into her mind. But a bar-brawling guy like Cooper would probably like that, so she nixed the idea.

  "I’ll think on it," he said resignedly.

  She started to leave, then stopped. As gently as she could, she said, "You’re going to have
to meet him sometime, you know."

  He turned again and picked up the bridle. "I know. And I trust you to keep him from causing trouble."

  His faith in her filled her with warmth and renewed her determination. "I’ll do my best, Alex."

  "You always do, Sara."

  Sara left the tack room and stable nevertheless feeling as if she’d just been ordered to keep Judas in line. But that wasn’t the worst of it.

  How was she supposed to thwart Cooper when, despite her best intentions, all she could do was think about how attractive and rightly tormented he was?