No. She couldn’t go up to that ambulance.

She walked away from the sights and sounds and smells but couldn’t outwalk the piercing strobe lights. She sat down in the grass about a hundred yards from the chaos, her body sore and her bare feet cold. She tucked them beneath her and sat in silence, watching the people running around.

She could see several more vehicles in the ditch past the limousine. There had been no other cars involved five years ago. The driver who’d forced them off the road had continued on, leaving her and Jennifer to their fate.

Sam’s angry voice suddenly intruded into her thoughts. “I told you to stay put.”

She looked up at him, not blinking.

“You’re supposed to be getting checked out.”

“I already was,” she said, lifting her arm to show him her bandage.

“That’s it? They gave you a Band-Aid?”

“Is she hurt?” Ben asked, coming up behind Sam, followed by Jesse.

“I don’t know.”

“I’m not,” she said, looking into the darkness, away from the accident.

“Come to the ambulance and prove it,” Sam countered.

“No.”

“Willa—”

“Leave me alone, Sinclair. When a ride shows up to take me back to the hotel, you can find me right here.”

Sam mouthed an expletive as he looked at his brothers, who’d been helping him search for her. When he’d returned to take her to the ambulance and hadn’t been able to find her, he’d become frantic, worried she had a concussion and had wandered off.

He was uncertain what to do. The accident had obviously upset her more than hurt her. Judging by the fact that she’d walked this far by herself and by the tone of voice she was using to get rid of him, Sam guessed she was okay. In fact, she appeared to be in fighting form.

“You’re going to the ambulance,” he said, hunching down beside her, more than willing to give her a fight if that’s what she wanted.

She looked at him again, only she wasn’t seeing ghosts now. “Go away.”

“No.”

“I’m not going to that ambulance, Sinclair.”

“If I have to carry you, I will.”

Her eyes widened, then she laughed humorlessly. “It will take the three of you.”

“You think so?” he asked, getting close to her face, which was lit by the strobe lights. “I think I can handle you, Ms. Kent.”

“Aw, hell. Now I’ve challenged your manly ego, haven’t I? Forget it, Sam. Just go away.”

He ended the discussion by picking her up and standing. She gasped in surprise, then hissed in outrage, grabbing his neck in a choking grip. “Put me down!”

“In the ambulance.”

“I hope you throw your back out!”

Sam strode past his laughing brothers. “Why, Ms.Kent , you don’t weigh more than a minute. Certainly not enough for a divorce.”

“I hope you break your back, you jerk!”

“You think you’re fat? You should have seen my date to the senior prom.”

Sam thought she was going to hit him—until they reached the ambulance. Then she stiffened and clung to him like a frightened child, her eyes closing tightly.

The accident she’d alluded to earlier must have traumatized her. Sam stepped into the ambulance and sat down, keeping her in his lap. “Here she is. Check her out,” he told the attendant. “If you think she should go to the hospital, I’ll ride with her.”

Willamina opened her eyes, giving him a tight smile, then flinched when the paramedic pulled off the bandage. She sat quietly on Sam’s lap while a light was shined in her eyes and her bump was checked. Her wrist was cleaned, and the attendant decided it didn’t need stitches. Sam wasn’t all that keen on ambulances or hospitals himself, and he gave a sigh of relief when she was pronounced fit to go home.

“That wasn’t so bad,” he said as he exited the ambulance with her in his arms.

“Will you please put me down?” she asked meekly.

Sam wasn’t fooled. She was seething mad. He walked with her to the waiting car Ronald had called.

“You aren’t wearing shoes. There’s glass everywhere.”

She heaved a mighty sigh. He set her in the back-seat, across from Jesse and Darcy. Jesse had his arm wrapped around his wilted date. Sam got in, and Jesse tapped on the window for the driver.

“Where are Paula and Ben?” Willamina asked.

“Paula sprained her ankle. She and Ben are riding to the hospital in one of the ambulances,” Jesse looked at Sam. “What about Ronald?”

“He’s staying with the car.”

“What happened?” Darcy asked in a sob-worn voice.

“Somebody cut off an SUV, which started a chain reaction,” Sam explained, wrapping his arm around Willamina when he felt her start to tremble again. He lifted her chin with his other hand. “Would you like to stay at Rosebriar tonight?”

“No. I just want to go to my hotel room. I’ll be fine in the morning.”

Sam guessed she’d be lame as hell come morning. “Jesse, tell the driver to take us to the Marriott.”

They rode in silence to the hotel, and Sam insisted on walking Willamina up to her room, ignoring her protests and glowers. It was a damned good thing he had a Herculean ego; Willamina Kent would bludgeon a lesser one to death.

She wouldn’t marry any of them if they crawled toMaine on their knees, their hearts in their hands. Lord, he admired her.

But he also intended to ruffle her feathers a little, just to soothe his Herculean ego. When they reached the door to her room, Sam asked for her key card.

She blinked up at him.

He sighed. “It’s in your purse, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“The one you left on the floor of the restaurant.”

“Yup.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

“Because you’ve figured out by now that I’m a bit of an airhead,” she said without guile.

“Is that how you see yourself?”

“Not as a rule; only when I’m out of my element. Usually, I’m as competent as the next person.”

“So, this isn’t the you my grandfather knows?”

She frowned up at him. “No. Well, maybe a little. I may be a little clumsy sometimes.”

“You must be dead on your feet to admit that,” he told her, walking her down the hall to a couch. “Sit here, and I’ll go get you a new key.”

“Thank you.”

Sam went back to the desk, then returned with a new card. He opened the door, and once she had stepped inside, he turned her around in his arms.

“Wh-what are you doing?” she squeaked in alarm.

“Salvaging my pride. And satisfying my curiosity.” Then he captured her mouth. He found sweetness, warmth, softness, and honey.

Willamina froze. Her hands were bunched into fists against his chest, her back was arched away from him, and she’d stopped breathing.

So, the brave little woman was mostly bluster, was she? No, not little . Plump. Nicely, nicely plump. She felt damn good in his arms. Sam pulled her closer and slanted his mouth over hers, then ran one a hand up her back to cup her head, patiently laying siege to her resistance. Finally, slowly, she softened. Then she whimpered.

And then she kissed him back.

Yes!Victory.

Her smell, her warmth, her sweet taste suddenly overwhelmed him, and Sam stopped thinking about egos and revenge.

She whimpered again, and he stopped thinking completely.

One or both of them started trembling.

He had to stop. Now.

In a minute. Soon.

She stiffened again, and Sam pulled back to see gunmetal eyes glaring up at him. He probably shouldn’t have smiled just then. The sharp pain from her fingers digging into his chest was a good sign that she wasn’t amused.

“What did you do that for?” she sputtered.

Sam stepped away and rubbed his chest. “Because I wanted to.”

“That won’t get you my vote!” she snapped, wiping her hand across her mouth. He stepped closer. “You think that kiss was to get your vote?”

“You have a better reason?”

He stared at her flushed face, moist pink lips, and tangled hair. She was angry and utterly enchanting. In all his life, he’d never met a woman like her.