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There were plenty of mixed feelings tearing him in different directions. He’d never responded so strongly to a woman other than Cassidy. Physically, sure. He’d had his fair share of mutual attractions. But what he’d experienced with Cassidy and now with Scarlet went well beyond attraction.
Scarlet was gentle with Rudy, deeply affected by his mistreatment, and Sam could easily surmise she’d be kind and compassionate to the horses in his care, too. She was also bold and daring. Intelligent and sexy as hell. All in all, everything Sam would have been looking for in a woman if he’d been looking.
Funny how that happened sometimes. When you were purposely searching for that special someone, it was tough to find exactly what you wanted. But when it was the last thing on your mind, it showed up on your doorstep. Or at least, attempted to, if not hindered by a snowstorm and highway-hazard elk.
Sam would contend that having Scarlet all to himself had been incredible, but sharing her with Michael, the two of them bringing her even more pleasure … Well, that had been downright mind-blowing.
Even the angry sex had rocked. Not just because of the intensity between him and Scarlet but also because Michael had been watching. Had been turned on by what Sam was doing to her—and how she’d responded.
Scarlet had wanted Sam to take her like that. He’d felt it deep in his bones. She’d wanted to soak up all of his fury, all of his emotions. And there was a part of him that wanted to strip away everything that haunted her as well. Not just through sex but also by being a stable, steady presence for her. Solid as oak. Someone who wouldn’t leave her. Because he knew that was her biggest fear.
And that made her current case all the more tormenting for her, since she’d had to go to a dark place to get the information she’d needed from Sam’s mother. In doing so, Scarlet had risked both Sam’s and Michael’s affection.
Sam recognized that quite clearly. It didn’t make the situation easier, though. It was still convoluted. But at the heart of it, there seemed to be something the threesome needed that they could only get from one another. Michael had rejected any sort of emotional commitment from the time Sam had met him, and that was all wrapped around the loss of his mother and the strain between him and his dad.
Karina and Sam joining the fold had only added to Michael’s strife. Thankfully, Sam had been able to break through some of Michael’s defenses and become a friend, a confidant, a brother to him. That connection had strengthened the first time they’d set their sights on the same woman, long before Misty and Pembroke. It’d been a pre-Princeton summer fling they’d had with a reality TV star who’d rented a beach house in the Hamptons not too far from the mansion. A spontaneous hookup during a party that had led to many more steamy nights.
The three-way affair, however, had fizzled before summer had even come to an end. But it’d given Sam and Michael a taste of the alternative lifestyle. And they’d both enjoyed the indulgence.
Sam hadn’t expected that he and his stepbrother would ever get emotionally entangled in a ménage, but that was clearly happening with Scarlet. Which set off a few alarms in the back of Sam’s head. Mostly related to what he and Michael had discussed about logistics. Geography could be a real bitch sometimes.
But Sam was going to take a leap of faith and rely on the tried and true where there’s a will, there’s a way adage.
And dialed Scarlet again.
NINETEEN
Scarlet had been on the visitors’ side of prisons and correctional facilities before. Yet she’d never been quite so nervous as when Wyatt Hill entered with a guard.
Even if Bayli hadn’t scanned and e-mailed the yearbook photos of him, Scarlet would have pegged him instantly as Sam’s father. Wyatt was a mammoth of a man, all brawn and earthy good looks.
Incarceration and the criminal lifestyle had nothing on this guy. Sure, he was a bit weathered around the eyes and mouth, but he’d be an easy pick-out in a lineup, with unforgettable chiseled features and bright blue eyes.
Wyatt slid into the seat on the other side of the glass partition and lifted the phone. Scarlet pressed her own receiver to her ear.
“Mr. Hill, my name is Scarlet Drake. I’m an independent insurance fraud investigator.”
His gaze narrowed on her. “You’re not from my lawyer’s office?” he asked with a deep southern drawl.
“No, sir.”
“Then what the fuck makes you think I want to speak with you?”
She inhaled sharply. The nerves were clearly justified. After a long, though somewhat discreet, exhale, she said, “I’m looking into the disappearance of an art collection from the Vandenberg estate in the Hamptons.”
“And that has what to do with me?”
Scarlet’s gaze met his as she said, “It belonged to Karina Reed. Your high school sweetheart. The mother of your two sons, Sam and Dylan. Your twins.”
His jaw clenched, the way Sam’s did when he was tense. “You can go fuck yourself, lady. I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.” Wyatt slammed down the receiver. Shoved back his chair and jerked his chin at the guard, indicating he was done.
Scarlet hung up. Heaved a sigh.
That went oh, so well.
She gathered her belongings and returned to her rental car. Drove back to Phoenix to catch her flight home. On the plane, she stewed over the brief interaction with Hill. Wondered if she should have stayed and tried again, but in all honesty, Scarlet wasn’t entirely sure what she hoped to gain from engaging him in conversation.
Her interest in the man was predicated on his relationship to Sam—well, lack thereof, but Wyatt was Sam’s birth father. And the father
