Not ten minutes after Lana had finaly managed to push Caleb’s silent presence out of her mind, her ex-fiancé, Oran Sinclair, came striding into her office. He moved with the arrogant confidence of a man who was sure that everyone around him was watching and enjoying the view. Lana’s stomach twisted at the sight of him, sending up a flare of anger and disgust—anger that he’d come waltzing in here like he owned the place, and disgust that she hadn’t come to know him for the selfish man he was before he broke her heart.
He was just as handsome now as he had been when she’d falen in love with him during her sophomore year at MU. With his perfectly trimmed blond hair and those al-American, camera-friendly good looks, he’d swept her off her feet. She’d been too young then to realize that she’d only land on her ass a few years later.
So much for true love.
Oran straightened his power tie and gave her a disarming smile—the one he used when posing for the press after a successful trial.
He gave Caleb a speculative glance as he strode over to her desk. “Lana,” he greeted, taking her hand from her side when she didn’t offer it.
His fingers were cold and a little clammy, as if he was nervous, which was ridiculous, because Oran hadn’t been nervous a day in his life. He fed on pressure, bloomed under stress—like some sort of exotic fungus.
Lana puled away from Oran’s grip a little too fast, giving away her dislike for the man. Caleb saw it and stood from his seat, taking a warning step forward. She gave Caleb a smal shake of her head, and although his frown was grim, he stayed on his side of the room.
“Who’s your friend?” asked Oran with a nod toward Caleb.
“He’s not my friend. Just ignore him. That’s what I’m trying to do.”
Oran’s smile widened, and a touch of victory lit his eyes.
“What do you want, Oran?” she demanded. “Troling for campaign contributions for that lofty political career you’ve had your eye on?”
He gave her a handsome smile that crinkled the corners of his flashing blue eyes. “Nothing like that, darling. I haven’t heard from you since Easter. Why haven’t you returned my cals?”
“Because I have nothing to say to you. Mom never should have invited you to dinner.”
“She’s worried about you.”
Nothing new there.
He continued, “She told me how strapped you are for cash these days. I wanted to discuss what I could do for you.”
Warning bels gonged in Lana’s head. Oran never did anything outside of his own self-interest. “No, thanks,” she said and sat down, dismissing him without explanation.
“You didn’t even hear me out,” he said, puling up a chair too near her own.
“Don’t need to. Whatever it is, I’m not interested.”
“Not even if I told you that I’m wiling to fund your foundation for the next five years?”
Lana’s hand stiled its scribbling and she looked up. He wore that same disarming smile that had made her give her heart away to him so easily six years ago. The same one that would win votes.
His offer of funding sounded too good to be true. Oran was not a generous man. “You only give to charity when the press is watching. If I actualy believed you, I might listen, but I know better.”
He reached out toward her, and it was al she could do not to flinch away and draw Caleb’s attention. She hated having an audience for this. It was hard enough without one.
His fingers settled against her cheek in a mockery of a caring touch. “You look tired. You’re working too hard, Lana. I know how much this place means to you, and I want to help.”
“Why?” she asked, knowing she’d regret being puled into his world—a world where nothing else mattered beyond his political aspirations. She had to remember that.
“Would you believe I want to help because I care about you?” he asked, sounding sincere.
“No.”
He gave a self-deprecating smile that reeked of long hours of practice in front of a mirror. “I didn’t think so. I know things didn’t end wel between us, and I just wanted you to know how badly I feel about that. I should have been more understanding.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Caleb watching them without even the pretense of trying to give them privacy.
Lovely. As if she hadn’t had enough awkwardness today.
“You told me that I was no good to you in a wheelchair, Oran. You told me that a woman who might not be able to give you children just wasn’t an option for you. Tel me how you could have been any less understanding.”
Oran threw a quick, questioning glance at Caleb, then lowered his voice. “I was an ass. I’m sorry, Lana. I want a chance to make it up to you.”
“By helping fund my foundation?” she asked in disbelief.
“By giving us another shot. You and I were good together.”
“Apparently not good enough for you to stick around. You dumped me before I was even out of the hospital!”
Caleb surged to his feet, and from over Oran’s shoulder, she pinned Caleb with a hard glare. “You stay out of this. It’s none of your business.”
“Who is he?” asked Oran. “Can you send him away so we can talk in private?”
“Send him away?” she nearly screeched. “That is so like you, Oran. Everyone is your servant to be ordered around as you please.”