“T. J. Boone. You’re the one he wants.”

Izzy sat up, her dark curly hair a halo around her head. “What are you talking about?”

Skye walked to the bathroom and turned on the tub. While water thundered out, she poured in jasmine-scented bath oil that foamed and made bubbles.

“Jed told T.J. that he’d like him to marry his daughter. T.J. asked about you but Jed informed him that I was the daughter being auctioned off. T.J. paused for a very long time before agreeing that I would do.” Skye returned to the bedroom, then swore softly. “Did I remember to bring up a big bottle of wine? Of course not.”

Izzy bounced to her feet. “What are you talking about? Of course he wants you. You’re gorgeous.”

That was stretching it, but Skye wasn’t going to refuse the compliment.

“It doesn’t matter,” she said with a sigh. “I’m not letting Jed pick a husband for me. Been there, done that.”

“Bought the T-shirt,” Izzy added helpfully.

She’d done more than that. She’d married the man in question because it was what her father wanted. Because it was the right thing to do, or so it had seemed at the time.

“I have a backbone,” Skye said, feeling dissatisfied with her life and not clear on why. “I’m sure of it. If I didn’t have a backbone, I couldn’t walk upright. I’m twenty-six years old, a widow and single mother. Shouldn’t I be the one running my life?”

“You are,” Izzy said, then shrugged. “Sort of.”

“How wonderful. I’m a role model for doormats everywhere.”

“You’re not a doormat.”

Skye shook her head. “Sorry. This should be a pity party for one. I didn’t mean to include you. Why don’t you go downstairs and flaunt yourself in front of T.J.? Show him what he’ll never have.”

Izzy frowned. “Are you okay? I can stay and keep you company.”

“No, thanks. I’m going to take a bath where I’ll be floating in a sea of denial.” Because her bad mood wasn’t just because of T.J.’s obvious rejection. She wasn’t interested in him or any man. It was her father assuming once again he could control her life. Because she’d let him…more than once.