Free A Winter's Rose by Erica Spindler

Ellerbee seemed like the last person he would fall for, let alone marry.
    Bentley trailed her fingers over the battered vinyl tablecloth, stopping on a particularly deep scar. She ran a finger gently over it. “How did you meet Victoria Ellerbee? You couldn’t have traveled in the same circles. And it doesn’t sound as if Galveston was her idea of heaven on earth.”
    â€œThrough Baysafe.” Jackson laughed without humor and curled his hands around his coffee mug. “It’s ironic, because she hated it so much.”
    Remembering, Jackson looked down at the beach, making sure Chloe was still there, then met Bentley’s eyes once more. “Ellerbee Oil was my first sponsor. There’d just been a major spill in the Bay, the damage was sickening. At the time of the spill, I was working with the Gulf Coast Marine Research Institute. We all pitched in to help with the clean-up operation. I was astounded to learn there wasn’t an organization set up specifically to protect the Bay.”
    â€œSo, you started one.”
    â€œYeah.” Jackson lowered his gaze to his coffee and frowned. He shouldn’t be sitting here talking with her like this, shouldn’t be feeling so comfortable. He tightened his fingers around the mug. And he sure as hell shouldn’t be thinking the thoughts about her that he was. Thoughts of him and her, of a cool, dark room and a big, soft bed.
    Those kinds of thoughts had gotten him in trouble before. The kind of trouble a man couldn’t turn his back on. The kind of trouble that followed him forever.
    Annoyed with himself and his fertile imagination, Jackson continued. “I grew up here, on the Texas coast. My daddy instilled in me a reverence for the land and water, for her bounty, her magic. He always called it the work of the Lord, not man.”
    Jackson made a sound of disgust. “He talked plenty about the work of man, too. When the shrimp weren’t running, Daddy worked on the rigs. The violations he saw were a sin. The land and water were changing, man was changing them, right before our eyes.”
    â€œI’m sorry,” Bentley murmured.
    And she was. The truth of that kicked him squarely in the gut. Even though she wasn’t responsible, even though she could give a thousand reasons why it wasn’t her responsibility, she was taking blame anyway. Bentley Cunningham wasn’t what he’d first thought her, not completely anyway.
    Jackson swore silently. Of course she was. This was some sort of game, just like her wanting to work was a game. Right now she wanted something from him. He’d best remember that.
    â€œBack then,” he continued, “oil was booming. We had an energy crisis, they said. Nobody thought much about what kind of damage the search for oil was doing. Big Oil could afford to throw some money my way. It made them look good. It paid my rent. It was an impossible situation, a double-edged sword, but back then it worked.”
    â€œAnd now?”
    â€œNow it’s not working so well. Now people are aware of what’s going on, and of how very fragile the earth is. Now we’re making a difference, putting some heavy pressure on Oil and other industries that have always had free rein to do what they liked no matter the consequences.”
    â€œAnd they don’t like it,” she murmured. “They’re pulling their donations.”
    â€œExactly.” He picked his coffee up, then set it down, memories tugging at him. “Anyway, I was Lee Ellerbee’s pet of the moment. He liked to hold me up to the social set as a shining example of what he was doing for the great state of Texas. I met his daughter at a party.”
    â€œYou fell in love.”
    Jackson laughed, the sound cynical. “Not exactly. Although I think at the time I considered myself in love.” He angled a glance at Bentley. “We fell in lust. She was the most beautiful, most exotic woman
I had