Sean

'Thank you,' Laurel replied, wondering if it was because of the new shade of lipstick she wore or the flush of sexual satisfaction on her cheeks.

'I didn't say you looked good. I said you looked different.'

'Well, I'm glad to see you noticed something about me. That's a positive step.'

Sinclair dropped his magazine. 'Your dress has roses on it.'

'No, these are peonies, not roses. There's a difference.'

'How did the auction go?' Sean asked, sitting next to Laurel and putting an end to the verbal sparring.

Sinclair pointed to a wooden box on the coffee table in front of him. 'She's a beauty,' he said. 'Take a look.'

Sean opened the box and examined the coin. 'You know what I find so amazing about your coins?'

'What is that, Edward?'

'That the thing you love the most, you can hold in your hand.' He picked up the coin. 'You can close your fist around it and never let it go. No one can take it from you, either. There aren't many things in life that are so safe.'

Laurel held her breath, startled by Sean's words. Was he talking about the coin, or was he talking about her? Sinclair had done his best to chain her to this house and to his silly rules about her inheritance. She felt like one of his coins, a possession he really didn't need, but couldn't let anyone else have, a possession that he held so tightly he nearly destroyed it in the process.

Sean opened his fist and handed the coin back to Sinclair. 'She is beautiful,' he said.

'Yes, she is,' Sinclair replied. He glanced at Laurel, his gaze meeting hers for the first time in years. 'I suppose we had better talk about your trust fund.' He moved his gaze back to Sean. 'You are aware that Laurel is an heiress. Her father left her a sizable trust that he gave me the responsibility of administrating. I decided Laurel should get the money after her twenty-sixth birthday and after she married.'

'She's told me,' Sean said.

'I've structured the trust so that Laurel's husband will have no claim to the money.'

Sean shrugged. 'That doesn't concern me. I didn't marry Laurel for her money.'

Laurel suddenly realized that she wasn't breathing. She gulped in a quick breath and tried to calm her nerves. She'd come into the room expecting to be handed a check. She hadn't counted on an inquisition.

'Why did you marry Laurel?' Sinclair asked.

'Because I love her.'

'And you expect your marriage to last?'

Sean nodded. 'Yes.'

'All right.' Sinclair held up his hand and Alistair placed a check in it. Laurel tried to contain her excitement. Her dream was so close, she could almost feel it. But instead of being overjoyed, she felt a certain measure of dread. Her future was about to begin, and her present-with Sean-would be left behind.

'With all the pressures of modern life,' Sinclair intoned, 'I feel that I need to make some accommodations for the possibility that this marriage might not be… oh, what is the word I'm searching for… permanent. To that end, I've decided to give you your trust fund over time. You'll get two hundred and fifty thousand today, five hundred thousand on your first wedding anniversary, a million on your second, two million on your third and the balance on your fourth anniversary. If you stay married, you'll have your fortune by the time you're thirty-one. I think this is a reasonable plan.'

Laurel stood. 'This was not the agreement,' she said. 'You can't do this. You can't change the rules in the middle of the game.'

'I can do whatever I want,' Sinclair said, straightening in his chair. 'Oh, and one more condition. You and your husband have to continue to live here in the mansion. This is the Rand family home and any Rand family heirs should be brought up here.'

'Why would you do this?' Laurel demanded. 'Do you want me to hate you?'

'I want you to be happy,' Sinclair said, as if the answer were obvious to everyone but her.

'Well, this is a crappy way to prove that.' Unable to contain her emotions any longer, Laurel crumpled up the check, threw it at his head and stalked out of the room. Her body trembled uncontrollably and she wasn't sure whether to cry or to scream. She was twenty-six years old and an eighty-year-old man was pulling all the strings! If it continued like this, she'd be an old woman and still be waiting for Sinclair to throw her a few crumbs.

She took the stairs two at a time and ran into her bedroom, slamming the door behind her. Sean's duffel was stuffed under the bed and she found her suitcases on the top shelf of the closet. 'I'm through. I've had enough. Uncle Sinclair can just take his millions and shove them up his-' Laurel finished with a curse, then yanked open her dresser and started pulling out clothes at random. 'I am out of here.' A soft knock sounded on the door. 'Go away!' she shouted.

The door opened and Sean stepped inside. He crossed to the bed and stared down at her open suitcase. 'What are you doing?'

'I'm finished. I don't care about the money, I don't care about the community center. It was all just a stupid, silly dream. I thought I could do something that my parents would have been proud of, but it's impossible. I'm going to find an apartment and see if the school district will let me substitute teach. I'm going to get on with my life.'

Sean held out the crumpled check. 'I thought you might want this.'

'No. I don't want any of Sinclair's money.'

'It's your money, Laurel. And this is enough to get started on the renovations. Once Amy comes through, there will be more. You can still make this work. I know you can.'

Tears pressed at the corners of her eyes and she fought them back. She wouldn't cry, she couldn't give Sinclair that last little bit of her dignity. But when Sean reached up and cupped her cheek in his palm, one of the tears slipped out.

'I can't do this anymore,' she murmured. 'I can't fight him any longer.' He pulled her into his arms, enveloping her in his embrace. Laurel pressed her face into his chest and sobbed. 'I want my life to start and that can't happen here.'

'Just give it a little more time,' Sean said. 'Stay here with me tonight and see how you feel in the morning.'

'Why do you care?' she asked.

He tipped her face up until her gaze met his. 'I want you to be happy.'

'But we can't continue this,' she said, throwing up her arms in frustration.

'And why not? Sinclair hasn't asked for any proof that we're married. He'll go back to Maine, we'll live together here at the house when he's around, and go on with our lives when he isn't. Hell, I could live here full-time. It would save on rent.'

'You… you'd do that for me?'

'I don't have anything better to do.'

'If Sinclair finds out we're not married, he'll hold everything until I'm thirty-one. He might even decide to wait until I'm fifty. That's his choice.'

'How is he going to find out? We've fooled him so far.'

'If I could afford to pay you for a year, I would. But I can't. At five hundred a day that would be-'

'About a hundred and eighty thousand,' Sean said. 'And you don't have to pay me.'

'You'd stay for no reason?'

'I have my reasons. I want to see you make the community center work. That's reason enough.'

'I can't ask you to do that,' Laurel said, shaking her head. 'You want to get your business off the ground and-'

'I can still do that,' Sean said.

She hesitated. 'And how would things be?'

'I'd go to work every morning and so would you. We'd come home and have dinner.'

'I mean, how would it be between us?' she interrupted. 'What would we be to each other?'

Sean considered her question for a long moment. 'I don't know. We'd have to figure that out as we went along.'

She blinked, then stared down at her hands. She wanted to be his love and his life. She wanted him to promise