Californian Kings. Maureen Child

with something to say—”

      Then he spotted one specific letter and scowled. He shot a glance at the floor above him, then deliberately took a breath, poured two more cups of coffee and tucking the paper under his arm, headed for the master bedroom. Bella was still snuggled under the quilt when he walked in and just for a second, he thought about ignoring the stupid newspaper in favor of joining her on the big bed.

      Then he shook his head, and crossed the room. Sitting on the edge of the mattress, he set the coffee on the side table and reached down to smooth her hair back from her face. She was beautiful. And terribly sneaky.

      “Bella,” he said, “wake up.”

      “What? Why?” She pulled the pillow over her head and slipped deeper beneath the quilt.

      Jesse plucked the pillow free, tossed it aside and said again, “Come on, wake up.”

      One brown eye opened and glared at him. “Jesse, it’s still dark.”

      “It’s dawn and the paper’s here. The Morgan Beach weekly.” He was watching her, waiting for her to respond.

      “That’s nice.” She sniffed and blinked blearily at him. “I smell coffee.”

      “Have some,” he said, offering her the cup as she scooted around and pushed a pillow behind her back. The sheet was drawn up, covering her breasts, and her hair was tousled. She looked beautiful. And so damn innocent.

      Funny, in all his plans for her, he’d never once considered that she might still be working against him. Plotting. Planning. Turns out, he should have.

      She took a sip, sighed, then blinked again, trying to focus on him. “Why are we awake?”

      “I always wake up early.”

      “That’s a hideous habit,” she said sleepily, giving him a soft smile, “made slightly less hideous by the fact that you at least provide coffee.”

      “Uh-huh,” he said, holding the newspaper up. “And reading material.”

      “What?” She stared at the paper he’d folded to a specific section. A second or two ticked past before her eyes went wide and she whispered, “Oh, no.”

      “Oh, yes,” he said, both eyebrows rising high on his forehead. “Your letter to the editor was printed this morning.”

      “Jesse…”

      “Wait, I want to read you my favorite part,” he said, fixing his gaze on the short, to-the-point letter she’d written.

      “Morgan Beach is selling its soul to a corporate raider who doesn’t care what happens to us and our homes as long as his company makes a profit. We should all band together and let Jesse King know that we won’t be bought. We won’t surrender who we are. Morgan Beach was here before Jesse King and it will be here long after he tires of playing at being a member of this community.”

      Bella’s eyes closed and a groan slipped from her throat. She covered her eyes with one hand as if she couldn’t bring herself to look at him. Her expression was one of pure misery and Jesse didn’t mind admitting to himself that he was glad about that, at least.

      “Very nice,” he said, sarcasm icing his tone. “I especially like the ‘corporate raider’ part. Seems to be a theme with you. And the rest of it’s pretty good, too. You should be a writer.”

      “I was angry.”

      “Was?” he repeated, picking up on that one word. “So you’re not anymore?”

      She hitched the sheet a little higher, then scooped one hand through her hair, swiping it back from her face. “I don’t know.”

      “Great, you don’t know,” he said, standing up and walking to one of the windows. Jesse felt as if he’d been kicked in the gut. He had known all along that Bella had a problem with what he’d been doing since he hit town, but damn.

      She’d just spent the night with him, all the time knowing that she’d taken another public shot at him.

      Thoughts of the night before rushed through his mind. How could she have been so eager, so responsive, if this is how she still felt about him? Strange, but he felt used. And suddenly, he realized how all the women in his life must have been left feeling.

      Hell of a time for an epiphany.

      He stared blindly out at the ocean and tried to ignore the rustle of bedsheets that told him she was getting up. But even pissed, his insides twisted, knowing she was close by and naked. How twisted was that, he wondered, to want the one woman who hated his guts?

      A moment later, she joined him at the window, his black-and-white quilt wrapped around her curvy body like a toga.

      “I’d forgotten all about writing that letter,” she said.

      “If that’s an apology, it sucks.” He tossed the newspaper onto a chair and took a gulp of his coffee.

      “It’s not an apology,” she said. “I meant it when I wrote it so I can’t apologize for that.”

      He glanced at her. “Great.” He paused, then asked, “Did you mean all that? Do you really think I don’t care what happens to this place?”

      “Jesse,” she said with a shake of her head, “when I moved here, I loved it.” She looked out the window at the ocean and the sunrise, just staining the horizon. “I’d never really had a home before. I…grew up in the foster system.”

      She said it so matter-of-factly, Jesse couldn’t even offer sympathy. But he remembered how longingly she’d looked at the photos of his family, how she’d seemed so caught up in the fact that they were a huge, yet close group. And then he thought about what it must have been like to grow up alone. What it might have been like for him if he hadn’t had his brothers and cousins. He couldn’t help feeling a stab of sympathy for the little girl she’d once been, who’d had nowhere to call home.

      And he wondered a bit that he could feel so much for her. He should have stayed pissed. Yet…looking at her, he just couldn’t seem to hold on to the feeling.

      “I loved the funky little buildings on Main Street,” she was saying, “the slow pace of town life, the cottages on the beach. The sense of community. I saw it and knew that I belonged here, as if I’d never belonged anywhere before. I spent the first year here sliding into the town, making my place, fitting in.” She turned her head and looked up at him. “You moved in and immediately started changing everything.”

      Frowning, Jesse thought he could understand now just why she’d been fighting him so hard for so long. “Nothing ever stays the same.”

      “I suppose not,” she said wistfully and turned her head again to watch the sunrise splashing brilliant color across the ocean.

      “So, change is bad, is that it?”

      “Not bad, it’s just change,” she argued. “I don’t like it. I love this town. I loved what it was and I was angry at you for—”

      “Buying up its soul?” he quoted, feeling the sting of the words again. He’d never meant to be a corporate raider. Hadn’t wanted to be a corporate anything. And yet, somehow it had happened to him. He’d made his peace with it. Even come to enjoy what he’d made of his life. Until he found Bella. And now suddenly, he was left feeling that, somehow, the success he’d achieved was only failure, cleverly disguised.

      She closed her eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you—well, no, I guess I did mean to. But that was before.”

      “Before you were back in my bed?” he asked, feeling a small stab of temper. “Guess it would be a little embarrassing to be attacking in public the same guy you’re sleeping with in private.”

      “It’s not that, Jesse,” she said, clutching her toga to her chest tightly with one hand. “I think I might have been