Dirty Sexy Saint (Dirty Sexy #1)(58)

He put his hand on the decorative gold doorknob and exhaled a deep breath. He’d thought he’d at least be intimidated about meeting Samantha’s father for the first time, especially under the current circumstances, but Clay was so certain of his feelings for the man’s daughter that any anxiety took a backseat to his intentions—if that’s what she wanted, too. Because he realized that for all his self-assurance, the two of them had never talked about being together beyond the temporary affair they’d agreed to.

Yeah, that’s because you were a grade-A idiot who clammed up anytime things got too emotional between you.

All that was about to change.

Shoulders back and head held high, he opened the door and stepped inside yet another lavishly decorated room that smelled like leather and some kind of exotic spice. Samantha’s father sat behind an enormous desk in an equally imposing chair that—no doubt deliberately—made him look like a king sitting on his throne.

Let the beheading commence, Clay thought with wry humor as he walked the rest of the way inside the study.

Conrad leaned back in his chair, deceptively casual as he watched Clay’s approach.

Clay wasn’t afraid of the older man, but he’d be a liar if he didn’t admit that it would be nice to have his approval. However, gaining Samantha’s parents’ blessing wasn’t a requirement for him to lay his heart out and give her the choice of being with him forever.

He stopped in front of the desk. “Mr. Jamieson,” Clay acknowledged with a nod, determined to treat the man with respect, despite the fact that he’d blackmailed his daughter into staying away from Clay.

He then pushed the envelope of cash across the surface, well aware of the other man scrutinizing everything about him. “While I appreciate the money you sent to help me out, I’m returning it all. I don’t want it. I don’t need it. In fact, you had to have known that I’ve got a couple million dollars sitting in the bank, since you did a background check on me. So why even bother?” Clay asked the question that had been swirling in his head ever since Harrison had left the bar.

“Two reasons, actually,” the older man said evenly. “One, it worked to bring Samantha back home. And two, I wanted to know what kind of man you truly are.”

So it had been some kind of test? Clay kept hold of his temper, reminding himself that testing Clay was the man’s way of looking out for his child—as screwed up as that might be.

“To be honest with you, sir, I’m more than a little pissed to find out the money came with an ultimatum to Samantha.”

The corner of Conrad’s mouth twitched with something akin to amusement before he shrugged, his expression once again bland. “I was getting tired of waiting for my daughter to come to her senses and come home.”

“So you blackmailed her?” Clay swallowed back the bitterness threatening to surface. “You forced her to give up the life she wanted so you could use her as some kind of collateral to secure your business and marry her off to a man she doesn’t love?”

A spark of anger flickered in Conrad’s gaze. “She’s my child, and I want the best for her.”

“Then let her make her own decisions.” Clay braced his hands on the edge of Conrad’s desk and leaned closer, his impatience getting the best of him. “Let her live her own life.”

Conrad frowned at Clay. “That’s difficult for a man like me to do.”

A man who wanted complete control over everyone and everything in his domain.

Clay straightened again, aware he was fighting for both Samantha and the life she wanted to live. “It’s not about what you want. You can’t force a vibrant, independent woman like Samantha to be someone or something she isn’t and expect her to be happy.” Though he wondered if Samantha’s happiness mattered in the scheme of Conrad’s needs and plans.

Rocking back in his chair, the older man eyed Clay speculatively. “And where do you think you fit into my daughter’s life?”

“Same answer, sir. It isn’t about what I want, either. But I do know I will do everything in my power to make her happy.”

“Happiness in the way you mean it is way overrated.” Conrad raised a brow. “You do realize you’re all wrong for her.”

Clay felt as though the old man was testing him again, otherwise he’d have thrown him out by now. Although he didn’t appreciate the hoops he had to jump through, this man, whether he liked him or not, was Samantha’s father.


And Clay loved Samantha. “I may not be an investment banker or someone from your social circle, but I’ve never felt anything as right as being with Samantha.”

“And you’re certain she feels the same way?” Conrad asked.

Clay thought of their last night together and knew it with absolute certainty. “Yes, I am.”

“Let me tell you something, son,” Conrad said, his tone surprisingly calm as he met Clay’s gaze. “I didn’t like what I read in your background report, and your past leaves a lot to be desired. But the man you’ve become despite how you grew up is what impresses me.” He steepled his fingers and studied Clay through a narrow but, dare he say, approving gaze? “I admire the fact that you overcame such adversity, that you raised your brothers, and that you help people less fortunate.”