“He reminded me of my own grandfather,” she said, relaxing against him. “Pops was a character right to the end, just like Abram. Your grandfather flirted shamelessly with my help. And he spoiled my cat rotten, bossed me around endlessly, and stuck his nose in every aspect of my business.”

“I’m glad.”

The rest of the ride to Rosebriar was quiet, Willa sighing occasionally as she fought her tears. Sam knew that she and Bram had bonded in a simple, elemental way. They had probably perked up at the first sight of each other, assessing each other’s mettle. Interest had come next, and shortly after, love had blossomed. That’s how it had always been with Bram. Within an hour of meeting someone, either he liked them or he didn’t. Sam guessed it hadn’t taken the old wolf ten minutes with Willa. The first slip she had made probably endeared her to him; her second would have sealed it. Sam’s hand suddenly stopped stroking up and down her back, to double-check what he was feeling. Nothing. He wasn’t feeling anything.

He should be feeling a bra. Willamina Kent had forgotten an important piece of clothing this morning. At least, it should be important to her, if she didn’t want to be kissed senseless again. Hoping she hadn’t noticed his delightful discovery, Sam pulled her onto his lap and began rubbing her soothingly again. This time, he put enough pressure against her back to push her chest against his. Yup, the partridge was missing some underwear.

When they turned onto the Sinclair estate, Willa sat up with wide eyes. Sam was afraid he’d been discovered, but she was looking out the window. She turned to him, her face lit with surprise. “Wow.”

“Bram’s legacy.”

“It’s beautiful.”

“Once you see all of it, you’ll really meet the man you’ve been harboring for the last six weeks,” Sam told her, shifting her on his lap a little more comfortably.

She smiled at him. “Your legs go to sleep?”

“I hate to disappoint you, Willa, but you’re not fat,” he told her dryly.

“I most certainly am.”

“No, you’re built like a woman.”

Just right, upstairs and down. Her expression turned as thunderous as when she’d caught him laughing at her at the Marriott, which reminded him…“That was a very unladylike gesture you gave me last night,” he said.

“What gesture?” she asked, her expression turning guileless. “When you were in the elevator?”

Sam nodded.

“Why, I was pointing at the cable above your car. It looked frayed. I feared for your life, Sam—I really did.”

The only thing that saved her from getting kissed again was the fact that Ronald had stopped the car and was opening the door.

Holy smokes! She couldn’t take much more of this roller coaster. Since she’d arrived inNew York , she’d laughed and cried and given Sam an obscene gesture. Her mother in heaven must be hiding in shame. Locking herself out of her hotel room had been the final indignity. She’d still been pounding on her door when one of the hotel staff had arrived with another key. Now here she was at Sam’s home, about to attend the funeral of a man she’d loved briefly but dearly. Abram had touched her heart by laughing at her nunlike existence. He’d claimed she was hiding behind her elderly crew of workers and her dysfunctional cat and that wearing her guilt like a hair shirt wasn’t contrition but blasphemy.

So, in what she was discovering was typical fashion, the old goat had thrown her right into the fire by sending her down to his grandsons. And she was afraid Abram wasn’t through with her yet; she wouldn’t be surprised if he left her one of his “boys” in his will. Well, she could handle that, as long as it wasn’t arrogant, sexy-as-hell Samuel Sinclair.

Willa ran from the car, right into another Sinclair.

“Whoa, little partridge,” Ben said with a laugh, steadying her by the shoulders. “What sent you bolting?”

He looked behind her. “Has Sam been threatening your life and limb?”

“I was just…” She looked up at Ben. “I’m so sorry,” she said softly.

“Me, too,” he said, knowing she meant Abram. “But it’s going to be okay. He couldn’t live forever. And we had him when we needed him most. So, what do you think of Rosebriar?” he asked, leading her up the stairs to the mansion.

“It’s beautiful. And big,” she said, craning her neck to follow the lines of the monstrous stone building.

“Bram liked big things,” he said, and Willa looked over to see if he was taking a pot shot at her weight. But he was looking up at the mansion himself. “Our grandfather grew up in a one-room shanty inTexas . Since he made it big, he’s been trying to make everything big.”

“Just how big is big?”

“Eighteen bedrooms, twenty-four bathrooms, sixty rooms total—all sitting in the middle of twelve hundred acres.”

“Wow.”

“Forty of those acres are gardens,” Sam interjected, coming to stand beside them. “Bram had them built for Rose before the house was even finished.”

“It’s overwhelming.”

“It’s home,” Jesse added, coming out the door to stand with them. They all turned on the steps and looked down the drive, at the grounds that seemed to stretch into the next state. Willa eyed the brothers. “He’s been living in a two-room cottage on my property.”

Abram had come to her like a beggar. She’d taken him in, not even suspecting how wealthy he was until he’d started talking about a board meeting she had to go to.

“It’s okay, Willamina,” Jesse said. “Bram was happy in your cottage, wasn’t he?”

“He seemed to be.”

“He went home to die,” Sam murmured.

“You said home wasTexas .”

“Not in his heart. Bram loved the smell of salt air.”

“Both my house and the cottage sit on a bluff, right on theGulfofMaine .”

“Then he was happy,” Sam said. “So be happy for him, Willa. We are.”

“Come on,” Ben said, tugging her toward the door. “You should get settled.”

“I can stay in a nearby hotel. I don’t want to intrude.”

Ben stopped and stared down at her, his eyes haggard and his face drawn. “You’ll stay here.”

“Until you get my vote?” she asked, smiling impishly, hoping to change his expression.

“It’s a moot point. Your proxy died with Bram. We won’t know who will be CEO until his will is read.”

“Oh.” Willa felt as bad as Ben looked. If she’d voted yesterday as she was supposed to, things would be settled now.

“It’s better this way,” Jesse said.

“What will happen to Tidewater International?”

All three men shrugged in unison. “Who knows?” Sam said. “Bram’s biggest joy in life was keeping his will a secret, but he likely divided his shares equally among us. Spencer’s not been very forthcoming.”

“Are you worried?”

“No,” Sam said. “Bram will have taken care of the company.”

They walked inside and stopped at the foot of a grand staircase straight out of Gone with the Wind . The stairs seemed to go on forever, opening at the top onto a gallery that ran right and left to unseen wings of the house. The foyer reached all the way to the roof, which was crowned with a dome of inlaid colored glass. The floor and stairs were marble; the walls were paneled in dark oak. In any direction Willa turned, she encountered lavish, built-to-outlive-a-man money.

“Willamina, you should understand something,” Ben said. “It doesn’t matter to any of us which one becomes CEO. We’re not in competition. Any one of us can lead, and the others will follow. No hard feelings, no jealousy.”

“And each of us can walk away anytime,” Sam added. “We’re not married to the company. Tidewater International was Bram’s passion, and it will continue to exist if none of us is there. All we have to do is sell out.”

“And you would?” she asked. “Just like that?”

“Just like that,” Jesse confirmed.

“Then why all the hoopla yesterday?”

“Because yesterday Bram was still alive.”

“You’re going to just walk away, then?” she repeated, not believing them.