The Last Real Cowboy. DONNA ALWARD
Charles lifted his head and offered a wide smile. “I’m afraid we started without you.”
Started without him? Angela silently fumed. He was over an hour late and had just walked in as though he had all the time in the world! And Charles Spring … she felt her muscles tense. Old boys’ club, indeed. Spring might frown at her over his glasses, but to Diamond he was as sweet as her mother’s chocolate silk pie!
“I got held up.” Sam gave the board a wide, charming smile and removed his hat. “I hope I didn’t inconvenience anyone.”
“Not at all! There’s always time for the foundation’s biggest supporter.” Heads around the table nodded. Sam shook Charles’s hand and then put his thumbs in his pockets.
“I didn’t realize I’d be in the company of such lovely ladies,” he drawled, popping just the hint of a dimple. Angela swore that she could hear the sighs from three of the board members old enough to be Sam’s mother. “I would have made a better effort to be here earlier.”
Angela thought she might be sick from all the flattery stuffing up the room. Where was Molly? Why had Sam come in her stead?
“I do hope your mother’s okay,” Angela said clearly. She took off her reading glasses and put them down on the table. Sam pulled out his chair and met her gaze as he took a seat. Recognition flared in his eyes for a moment, then cleared as if they were perfectly polite strangers.
“She’s fine, why do you ask?”
There was an edge to his voice and Angela didn’t like it. Maybe he was still nursing a bit of hurt pride where she was concerned. She blinked. Men like Sam Diamond weren’t used to being refused. Especially when they bought a lady a drink and told her she was a pretty little thing.
She’d simply said, “No, thank you.” It was only afterward that she’d realized that she’d given a Diamond—a pillar of the community—his walking papers. It put her in an awkward position. She needed his family’s support.
She ignored the uneasy glances from the board members and pasted on a cool smile. “Molly hasn’t missed a meeting yet. She’s been so supportive of the foundation. So I’m a bit surprised to see you here today, Mr. Diamond.”
Dark eyes met hers, challenging. “And you are?”
Oh, the nerve! He knew exactly who she was. She could see by the gleam in his eye that it was a deliberate cut, intended to throw her off her stride. She lifted her chin and rose to the challenge. “Executive Director of Butterfly House, Angela Beck.”
“You obviously didn’t receive my message. I called this morning.”
And this morning she’d been outside chasing Morris around, trying to get the infernal creature indoors before she had to race into Edmonton. She hadn’t stopped to check messages. She resisted the urge to bite down on her lip. She wasn’t feeling quite as in charge as she’d like. She was well aware that the Diamond family had a place on the board; after all, they’d donated the building and land for Butterfly House and promised an annual donation toward maintaining the facility. Which was all down to Molly’s generosity, she knew. The younger Diamond had a reputation that preceded him and it wasn’t all favorable. The fact that he’d tried his charms on her only made it more awkward. Maybe the deed was already signed, but without the continuing support the program would die a quick death unless she could find another sponsor with deep pockets.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t receive it. I’ve been in the city for several hours already.”
Angela was aware that every pair of eyes were on the two of them and that everyone seemed to be holding their breath. Everyone knew Sam. He was a big man, with big money and a big ego. Most of the residents spoke of him as if he were a god. Men respected him and women wanted him—until he trampled on their affections. She’d had her ears filled about that already.
But Angela could see the appeal. He was over six feet in his boots, sexy as sin and looking scrumptious in jeans and a shirt with a sport jacket thrown over top as a concession to business attire. Paired with his unassailable confidence, he made quite the package.
Just because she could understand the attraction did not mean she was interested, though. He was too … Well, he was too everything. She’d known it from the moment he’d tipped his hat and looked down at her with his bedroom eyes. And after she’d refused his overtures, he’d gotten this little half smile. “Do you know who I am?” he’d asked. Clearly she hadn’t. But she did now. They both knew exactly who had the upper hand—and he was enjoying it.
How kind, gentle Molly Diamond had spawned such an egomaniac was beyond her. Did he really think his transparent charm would work on her now when it hadn’t the first time?
“My mother won’t be attending any board meetings for the foreseeable future. My father suffered a stroke last week and she’ll be looking after him for the time being. She requested I sit on the board in her place.”
Oh, brother. Sympathy for the lovely Molly and her husband Virgil warred with annoyance at the turn of events. Angela and Molly had hit it off from the start, and she’d so looked forward to talking things over with the older, friendly woman. Molly had insisted that she’d love to be involved with turning the house into a real home and had even helped plan the upcoming open house. Angela couldn’t imagine Sam helping with those sorts of things. Undoubtedly his impression of “service to the community” was throwing money at it, then smiling and shaking a few hands and feeling proud of himself.
“I hadn’t heard.” Angela forced herself to meet his gaze. “I’m very sorry about your dad, Mr. Diamond. Please tell Molly that if she needs anything to give me a shout.”
“Thank you.”
But the words came out coolly, without the warm flirtatious charm he’d used on the other board members. Great. It seemed his pride was still smarting from her response that night. His question—Do you know who I am?—had struck a nerve and made her so defensive that goose bumps had popped up over her arms. “Should I?” she’d answered, looking over her shoulder as she walked away. Her insides had been trembling, but she’d covered it well. She was done letting domineering men run roughshod over her.
She’d utterly alienated Sam and she’d done it in front of the board. He turned his head away now, effectively ending the conversation. And why wouldn’t he? She’d been prickly as a cactus. Both times they’d met.
Charles wrapped up the meeting, but before he adjourned he smiled at Sam.
“I’m sure Angela would be happy to fill in the gaps, Sam. She knows more about the project than anyone.”
Angela felt the blood rush to her face as Sam’s gaze settled on her again. “Of course,” she murmured. She would just have to suck it up. What was important was getting Butterfly House off the ground no matter how often she had to smile. Maybe Sam wouldn’t even be interested in the details and this would be short and relatively painless.
She could afford a few minutes as long as she could make it to the hardware store in time to pick up her supplies. By the time she finished running her errands, it would be evening before she returned to Cadence Creek. Her whole day would be gone with little accomplished.
The meeting adjourned and the board members filtered out of the room. Sam pushed back his chair just far enough that he could cross an ankle over his knee. Angela organized her papers, avoiding Sam’s penetrating gaze as long as possible. Finally she put her pen atop the stack and folded her hands. She looked up and into his stupidly handsome face. “Shall I bring you up to speed, then? Or will you be on your way?”
Sam forced himself to stay relaxed. Lordy, this Ms. Beck was a piece of work. She looked as though she had a perennial stick up her posterior and she clearly didn’t approve of him any more now than she had two weeks ago when he’d offered to buy her a drink and she’d flatly refused, looking at him like he was dirt beneath her heel. Which was of no great importance. He didn’t need her to like him. In fact, he didn’t need anything from her.