Sawyer wasn’t surprised. “I wouldn’t let that worry you. I’m sure he wants to get his ducks in a row before he calls. And he has very unruly ducks. They’re basically squirrels on a sugar high. It may take some time.”
“I’m kinda on a set time line here,” Kat said, with one hand protectively covering the slight curve of her belly. “I hope he doesn’t take too long, because like it or not, his baby is going to be here come winter.”
“I’m sure he’ll be in touch. Once the shock wears off. He really wasn’t expecting to hear from you again.”
“Well, considering he didn’t give me the right name, I’m not surprised.”
“Yes.
I think that’s the last time he’ll play that game, though. He’s far too fond of his good looks to risk them by pretending to be me again. I do have to wonder, though.”
“Wonder what?”
Sawyer turned and looked at Kat, who was standing a few feet away. He could easily imagine her in some slinky dress, all dolled up to go to the party and hunt down Sawyer Steele. She intended to get her way, no matter what it took. “It made me wonder how the night would’ve ended if it had been me there and not Finn.”
To be honest, the thought had haunted him the last few days. She had come to the party to see him. To talk to him. Perhaps to seduce him. And somehow the spoils went to Finn instead. Just like usual.
“I’m sure it would’ve ended very differently,” Kat said.
“Would it?” he asked with an arched eyebrow.
“I think so. For one thing, you probably wouldn’t have dodged my questions about the District and we could’ve had a real dialogue about it. And for another, you don’t have Finn’s...charisma.”
“Is that what you call it?” Sawyer chuckled. “I typically describe that skill set a little differently. I’m sure that played right into your hands, though.”
Kat narrowed her gaze at him, her nose wrinkling in thought and a line creasing between her auburn eyebrows. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I mean, if you went to that party with the intention of doing whatever it took to get your way... Finn made it easier. I would’ve been a more difficult mark.”
“Wait a minute,” Kat said, her hands held out defensively. “Are you suggesting that I deliberately went to the party to seduce you? As though I could be so good in bed that you would just change your mind about the District renovations and do whatever I asked?”
Sawyer shrugged. “I don’t know what you were thinking. It does seem pretty convenient, though, the more I think about it. Nothing you were doing was yielding any results. If angry calls and letters didn’t work, sympathetic news articles didn’t work, protests didn’t work...why not try a little honey instead of vinegar?”
“I did not go to that party with the intention of giving you any...honey! I went to that event to talk to you, because you wouldn’t return any of my calls. It was the only way I could think of to pin you on the spot and make you listen to my side of the situation.”
“And yet somehow you ended up sleeping with the man who claimed to be me. Sounds like you’re quite the overachiever.”
The steam was practically coming out of Kat’s ears, and he found he quite liked her when she was angry. The flushed cheeks, the bright eyes, pursed lips...he imagined it wouldn’t be much different from how she’d look in the throes of passion. He could just envision her auburn hair across the pillowcase, her sharp nails digging into the flesh of his back...
“Of all the arrogant, insulting things you could say!” Kat sputtered for a moment, at a loss for words before she shook her head. “I was a damned fool to go down there that night. A fool to think that you could be reasoned with. All you rich people care about is your bottom line. The people here are just walking, talking rent payments to you. You don’t give a damn about what this place means to the tenants here. You don’t care about the community that’s grown here over the years, or how you’re going to destroy it to make a buck!”
Her anger suddenly wasn’t so attractive anymore and she was starting to rub Sawyer the wrong way. She wanted to know why he was doing what he was doing? Well, he was going to tell her. He closed the gap between them and spoke with cold, quiet anger, mere inches from her face. “And you don’t seem to care that the rent I’m currently collecting barely covers the utilities for this place. There certainly isn’t enough left over to do any repairs and it’s falling down around you.”
Sawyer pointed to the peeling plaster overhead. “That’s going to come crashing down on you sooner or later. The sewer lines are going to fail and flood the ground floor. That wood lathe of yours could overtax the electrical circuits at any moment and set the building on fire. Who is going to fix that? Who is going to pay for all that? The previous owner just ignored the place and cashed the checks. Sure, rent was cheap, but there’s a cost, and the building has paid the price for all of you. It’s your turn to pay up, and no amount of sweet-talking or seduction is going to change that.”
* * *
Kat was at a loss for words. It didn’t happen very often, but Sawyer seemed to be able to render her mute. Especially when he stood this close to her. Yes, his words were icy cold with restrained anger and frustration, but she could feel the heat radiating off his body. His words were just static noise in the background, with her pounding heart drowning out everything but its sensual rhythm. She knew she should take a step back, reclaim her personal space and counter his argument with more pointed words, but she couldn’t make herself do it. Her body wanted to move nearer and close the gap between them.
It was ridiculous. Foolish. But she couldn’t help but be confused whenever she was around Sawyer. She was haunted by memories of a night in a downtown hotel room...memories of a man who looked like Sawyer. A man she’d thought was Sawyer. Somehow it felt like the most natural thing in the world to reach out and touch him like she had before. Her libido couldn’t tell the difference between the two identical men.
But her brain knew. And it knew that was all a lie. Those memories, that man... It wasn’t Sawyer she remembered. And no matter how familiar those dark eyes or that dimpled smile, it wasn’t the same person. This man was a stranger. A stranger who intended to take away everything she held dear to make a buck. Sure, he wanted to make necessary improvements, but the fancy, downtown art scene he had in mind was a far cry from what the tenants truly needed. The necessary repairs weren’t the changes driving the rent out of the realm of possibility for most of the artists. It was the coffee shop, the concert venue, the paved parking lot and the high-end landscaping with dancing fountains.
It was a great response, exactly what she wanted to say, but the argument eluded her when Sawyer gazed at her this way. It wasn’t how Finn had looked at her. And yet it was the way she’d always wanted a man to look at her. Like he wanted to consume her, body and soul.
Even in his anger, Sawyer seemed almost as though he was on the verge of kissing her. A part of her wished he would, even if just to end this fight.
Okay, not just to end the fight.