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“All right,” she conceded.
She studied him while he removed his gloves and coat and draped his coat on the back of a kitchen chair. When he wasn’t dressed in a suit, he favored jeans and shirts that weren’t the classic cowboy variety, perhaps, but still possessed a Western flavor. They usually had snaps instead of buttons and fitted his lean, muscular torso to perfection.
When he glanced at her, she just raised her eyebrows in polite expectation, hoping he hadn’t noticed the way she’d been detailing his form. She led him into the living room. The sitting area before the flickering fire looked much more cozy and intimate than it had when she’d been there alone.
“Did Lincoln ever speak to you about whether or not you were interested in running DuBois Enterprises?” he asked after he’d stood before the fire for a moment.
“Yes.”
He turned and speared her with his stare. “He did? When?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. A month or so before he passed? He asked me if I’d ever consider taking up business. Then he asked me if I’d like to run his company. I thought he was kidding.”
“And what did you say?” Nick asked intently.
“I told him ‘no way.’ I have no interest in working in an office. Medicine is my career. I love being a nurse. Did Lincoln really ask you to get to know me better in that letter?” she blurted out, unable to contain her curiosity anymore. She’d been obsessing about Lincoln’s reasoning and state of mind all day.
“Yes. Why would I lie about something like that?”
She gave him a small, cautious grin. “Your reasoning escapes me, as usual.”
He laughed and turned toward her, one hand on the mantel. His silvery-gray eyes looked a little softer than usual. “My reasons are hardly Machiavellian.”
“I just can’t comprehend why he’d ask you to do it.”
“Maybe he trusted me. Maybe you should, too.”
She looked up into his face. He hadn’t moved, but he somehow seemed closer. “Why should I trust you when you clearly don’t trust me?”
“I haven’t decided yet whether I trust you or not,” he said.
A thought occurred to her. “Wait...don’t tell me that Lincoln actually asked you to investigate me in this infamous letter.”
“I’m not investigating you, Deidre. Don’t be so melodramatic,” he mumbled, exasperated.
“What else should I call it? You’ve admitted you’re here to determine if I’m the type of person who would coerce a sick, vulnerable man into giving me all his money.”
He sighed. “I’m here to understand you—and this whole situation—better. Linc’s impulsive actions don’t make much sense to me, given what I know of his character. He was an astute, methodical businessman. In order for me to get comfortable with the change, I need to get the lay of the land, so to speak. Linc’s request for me to get to know you has nothing to do with my concerns about the will. It’s a completely separate issue.” He turned toward the fire, clutching at the edge of the mantel with both hands.
“I still think it’s strange for you to stay in Harbor Town.”
“Just as strange as Lincoln giving half the control of his entire company to a woman who probably can’t even interpret a basic financial statement?” he wondered, giving her a steely sidelong glance.
Her spine stiffened. “Do you know what I think? I think it bothers you that Lincoln liked me so much.”
“Why should it bother me that he was so taken by you? I suspect many men are,” he said, holding her stare.
Her heart skipped a beat. She wasn’t sure whether to interpret his comment as an insult or a compliment. “Maybe it bothers you because you’re used to being the only one who had Lincoln’s complete affection and trust.”
He made a scoffing sound. “Linc gave his trust to many people, Deidre. Some of the officers of DuBois Enterprises thought he gave it a little too freely for their liking.”
“As in my case, I suppose.”
“Yes...and one other notable case,” he said quietly. She frowned, confused by his reference. He dropped one hand and stepped toward her, so that only a half a foot separated them. She held her ground and hoped he didn’t notice her pulse throbbing at her throat.
“It’s not an inevitability that we have to be enemies,” he said.
“It’s not inevitable that we have to be friends, either,” she said, staring at his chest.
