didnât want her. Her tears had imprinted on his conscience, permanently.
âAiden,â she acknowledged him with a cool nod. Then she turned her attention back to James. âTake these, please.â
She might look elegant and serene, but Aiden could see the steel beneath the silk from across the room. Was there sexy under there, too? Nope, not gonna think about it. His strict, one-night stand policy meant no strings, and that woman had hearth and home written all over her. He wouldnât be here long enough to find out anything...about anybody.
With a low grumble, James took the pills from her hand and chased them down with the water. âHappy now?â
His attitude didnât faze her. âYes, thank you.â Her smile only hinted that she was patronizing him. Her presence as a nurse piqued Aidenâs curiosity.
His gaze lingered on her retreat to the far window, the rain outside a gray backdrop to her scrubs, before returning to the bed that dominated the room. His voice deepened to a growl. âWhat do you want?â
One corner of his grandfatherâs mouth lifted slightly, then fell as if his strength had drained away in a rush. âStraight to the point. Iâve always liked that in you, boy.â His words slurred. âYouâre right. Might as well get on with it.â
He straightened a bit in the bed. âI had a heart attack. Serious, but Iâm not dead yet. Still, this little episodeââ
âLittle!â Christina exclaimed.
James ignored her outburst. ââhas warned me itâs time to get my affairs in order. Secure the future of the Blackstone legacy.â
He nodded toward the suit standing nearby. âJohn Cantonâmy lawyer.â
Aiden gave the manâs shifting stance a good once-over. Ah, the man behind the phone call. âHe must pay you well if youâre willing to lie about life and death.â
âHe merely indulged me under the circumstances,â James answered for Canton, displaying his usual unrepentant attitude. Whatever it takes to get the job done. The words James had repeated so often in Aidenâs presence replayed through his mind.
âYouâre needed at home, Aiden,â his grandfather said. âItâs your responsibility to be here, to take care of the family when I die.â
âAgain?â Aiden couldnât help saying.
Once more his grandfatherâs lips lifted in a weak semblance of the smirk Aiden remembered too well. âSooner than I like to think. Cantonââ
Aiden frowned as his grandfatherâs head eased back against the pillows, as if he simply didnât have the energy to keep up his diabolical power-monger role anymore.
âAs your grandfather told you, Iâm his lawyer,â Canton said as he reached out to shake Aidenâs hand, his grip forceful, perhaps overcompensating for his thin frame. âIâve been handling your grandfatherâs affairs for about five years now.â
âYou have my condolences,â Aiden said.
Canton paused, blinking behind his glasses at Aidenâs droll tone.
James lifted his head, irritation adding to the strain on his lined face. âThere are things that need to be taken care of, Aiden. Soon.â
His own anger rushed to replace numb curiosity. âYou mean, youâre going to arrange everything so it will continue just the way you want it.â
This time James managed to jerk forward in a shadow of his favorite stance: that of looming over the unsuspecting victim. âIâve run this family for over fifty years. I know whatâs best. Not some slacker who runs away at the first hint of responsibility. Your motherââ
He fell back with a gasp, shaking as his eyes closed.
âChristina,â Canton said, his sharp tone echoing in the room.
Christina crossed to the bed and checked Jamesâs pulse on the underside of his fragile wrist. Aiden noticed the tremble of her fingers with their blunt-cut nails. So she wasnât indifferent. Did she actually care for the old buzzard? Somehow he couldnât imagine it. Then she held Jamesâs head while he swallowed some more water. Her abundant hair swung forward to hide her features, but her movements were efficient and sure.
Despite wanting to remain unmoved, Aidenâs heart sped up. âYou should be in a hospital,â he said.
âThey couldnât make him stay once your grandfather refused further treatments. He said if he was going to die, he would die at Blackstone Manor,â Canton said. âChristina was already in residence and could follow the doctorâs orders....â
His grandfather breathed deeply, then rested back against the pillows, his mouth drawn, eyes closed.
âCan you?â Aiden asked her.
She glanced up, treating him to another glimpse of creamy, flawless skin and chocolate eyes flickering with worry.
âOf course,â she said, her tone matter-of-fact. âMr. Blackstone isnât going to die. But he will need significant recovery time. Iâd prefer him to stay in the hospital for a bit longer, but...â Her shrug said what can you do when a personâs crazy?
Something about her rubbed Aiden wrong. She didnât belong in this room or with these people. Her beauty and grace shouldnât be sullied by his grandfatherâs villainous legacy. But that calm, professional facade masked her feelings in this situation. Was she just here for the job? Or another reason? Once more, Aiden felt jealous of her, wishing he could master his own emotions so completely.
But he was out of practice in dealing with the old man.
This time, Christina retreated to the shadows beyond the abundant purple bed curtains. Close, but not hovering. Though keenly aware of her presence, Aiden could barely make out her form as she leaned against the wall with her arms wrapped around her waist. It unsettled him, distracted him. Right now, he needed all his focus on the battle he sensed was coming.
âYour grandfather is concerned for the millââ Canton said.
âI donât give a damn what happens to that place. Tear it down. Burn it, for all I care.â
His grandfatherâs jaw tightened, but he made no attempt to defend the business where heâd poured what little humanity he possessed, completely ignoring the needs of his family. The emotional needs, at least.
âAnd the town?â Canton asked. âYou donât care what happens to the people working in Blackstone Mills? Generations of townspeople, your motherâs friends, kids you went to school with, Marieâs nieces and nephews?â
Aiden clamped his jaw tight. He didnât want to get involved, but as the lawyer spoke, faces flashed through his mindâs eye. The mill had stood for centuries, starting
