her apology would be enough.
“Oh, no, Megan. It’s not that simple.” He moved quickly, stepping in front of her and crouching down. He stared at her face. “It’s the words you used that bother you. Not the deed.”
“Stop it,” she commanded, but her voice was weak, and she had no power to make him stop. She couldn’t even escape. She would have to push him away. To do that would require her touching him, and as surely as she knew her name, she knew if she touched him, all would be lost. “What do you want from me?”
“The truth, Megan. For once in your sorry life, tell me the truth. I’ll accept that instead of your apology.”
Now her temper flared, quarreling with the confusion inside of her. She didn’t know this angry stranger. He wasn’t the Justin Kincaid she remembered from her childhood, or the young man who had made her fall in love with him seven summers ago. He was hard and frightening, mocking and cold. She wanted to run away and forget she’d ever been here. She wanted to forget the heat of his stare and the scent of his body and the way his hands reached for hers, holding them tight.
“The truth,” he growled. “Say it.”
His fingers squeezed hers. His hands had always been hard from his long hours working in the livery stable. Time hadn’t changed that. He pressed until her fingers dug into her own palms. The sharp pain shocked her into action. She jerked free of his touch and sprang to her feet. Stalking across the room, she drew in deep cleansing breaths.
“Yes,” she said loudly, turning to face him. “Yes, I’m sorry I said those things, but I’m not sorry I stayed here. I’m not sorry I didn’t go with you.”
He stood and smiled at her. There was no humor or kindness in the curve of his lips or the flash of his white teeth. She felt chilled and folded her arms over her chest.
“Are you satisfied?” she asked.
His smiled faded. He returned to his seat. “No,” he said without looking at her. “But you told me the truth. At last. Does your husband know about your habit of avoiding the unpleasant?”
“Husband?” Oh, Lord, he thought she was married. Megan was glad her gloves hid her bare left hand from him. Married. When he found out she wasn’t, was he going to assume she’d waited for him? Oh, he couldn’t. She hadn’t, of course. There were plenty of reasons she hadn’t married, and none of them had anything to do with Justin Kincaid.
“I don’t avoid the unpleasant,” she said, staying well away from him. “What about your wife? Does she know you accost strange women in your office?”
This time his smile was genuine. She’d forgotten about the dimple in his left cheek, and the way his eyes crinkled when he was amused. Against her will, her own lips turned up at the corners. Justin had always had the ability to charm her, no matter how hard she tried to hold on to her anger, or her sensibilities.
“You were hardly accosted, Megan.”
“You know what I mean.” Cautiously, she approached the chair he’d given her. She sank onto the edge of the seat, prepared to spring up at the least provocation.
“No, she doesn’t know I accost women in my office.”
His words shouldn’t have surprised her, but she felt as punctured as a pincushion. Who would have thought he had married? She recalled her worries of that morning. How she’d wondered what she would do when she came face-to-face with him. She’d been torn between hoping he would remember what had gone on between them, and fearing that he would want to continue the relationship. Now there was no question of that. Married.
“Who is she?” she asked, hoping he wouldn’t notice that her smile had faded.
He folded his arms over the chair back. “Who?”
“Your wife.”
He gave her a lazy wink. “What wife?”
She sighed. “Justin, even you cannot treat your wife with such disrespect. Who is the woman you married?”
She could see his humor fade, and with it the man that she remembered. The cold, angry stranger returned. “You mean, even the town bastard should know how to treat a lady? What makes you think I married a lady?”
“Your time away has taught you a quickness I cannot match.” She picked up her cloak and drew it over her shoulders. “I apologize for any insult I may have spoken. It was, I assure you, unintentional. I wish you and your good wife well.”
“There is no wife, Megan. A widow woman tempted me once, but I managed to escape.”
Her anger was gone, battered by his overwhelming presence. She wasn’t afraid, what with half a room and his desk between them. Her knees still trembled from his handsomeness, but she would be able to overcome that weakness. Which left only confusion. Why did he toy with her? Was this his punishment for her actions seven years ago?
No. If he sought punishment, that would mean he still cared for her. It couldn’t be true. Even if it was, nothing had changed. He was still Justin Kincaid and she was—
The door flew open. “Megan Bartlett, what on earth are you doing here with that...that man?”
Her sister, Colleen, swept into the room with all the fiery determination of an angel entering the devil’s domain. Megan wanted to crawl under the desk but there wasn’t time. Or room, she thought practically, knowing she would never be able to slip past Justin, even if Colleen hadn’t seen her.
“Ah, Miss Bartlett,” Justin said, approaching her and smiling. “How good to see you again.”
“It’s Mrs. Estes, sir. What do you think you’re doing here with my sister?”
“Why we were just...talking.”
Megan groaned and sank lower into her chair. There had been enough of a pause between the words just and talking to give Colleen reason for concern. When combined with Justin’s suggestive smile and the wink he shot her, she knew her fate was sealed. Colleen would lecture her for the next three weeks. Megan had always regretted being the sister-in-law to the town minister, but never more than right now.
Just when Megan was telling herself it couldn’t get any worse, Justin reached for Colleen’s gloved hand and brought it to his mouth. Before the woman could snatch her hand back, he kissed it. Colleen squealed.
“Unhand me, sir. Do you know who I am? Megan, tell this...this creature who I am.”
Megan looked up at him. Behind the mocking facade, behind the quick smile and easy charm lurked anger. She saw it in the stiffness of his body and the lines around his mouth. Like a wolf sunning himself on a warm day, Justin would revert back to the wild at any moment. No one would be given any warning, least of all her.
Justin Kincaid was back in town. The tingling in her fingertips told her nothing was ever going to be the same again.
Justin glanced from Megan to her sister and back. There was a time when the Bartlett girls had looked so much alike strangers had trouble telling them apart. Time had changed that. Colleen had grown matronly. Her once-pretty smiling face seemed pinched, her expression sour, as if the fragrance of life was more than she cared to smell.
As for Megan, she’d grown more beautiful. Justin should hate her for it. Instead, he hated himself for giving a damn. Why couldn’t she have become old and ugly in the seven years he’d been gone? Or at the very least, why couldn’t she have married and moved away?
He looked at her and caught her staring at him. With his left eye, he gave her a wink.
She flushed and bit her lower lip.
He knew Megan was wondering if he’d caught her sister’s salutation. He saw it in the panicked