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The men scattered. And Mac got a firsthand look at the white tank top clinging to her round breasts with exact precision. Thanks to the cold night air, her nipples puckered against the otherwise loose fabric, leaving nothing to the imagination. He had the insane desire to cup his hands over her breasts and warm the lady himself.
He’d gone too damn long without sex if this bedraggled female turned him on. She stared from him to the group in the corner.
“They don’t mean any harm.” He gestured to the three men ogling her without shame. He knew how they felt.
“Thanks just the same,” she said in a husky voice that he’d like to think was sexy by design, but since she’d obviously taken a long hike in the dry desert, she’d probably swallowed more than her share of dust. “My car broke down,” she explained.
“Have a seat and I’ll get you something cold to drink,” he said. “For your throat. Then you can pour your heart out to a friendly bartender.” After which maybe he could find a sweatshirt behind the bar to warm her up and cover her considerable charms. Before he acted on impulse rather than common sense.
She lifted her gaze to his and obviously caught him staring at her chest. A pink flush rose to her cheeks, and she not-so-discreetly crossed her arms in front of her, blocking his view. Her awkward smile disarmed him at the same time he noticed her eyes. The impact sent a jolt of awareness sizzling through him. He’d never seen such an arresting color before, a unique combination of violet and indigo framed by dark lashes and pale skin. Skin marred only by streaks of mascara and what had to be dried tears.
He found himself touched by the sight because this woman was real. Dirty, disheveled and so unlike the women who came to his resort to “rejuvenate” on a regular basis. In his world, a place far removed from the down-to-earth town of his youth, women viewed cosmetic and surgical artifice as the means to keeping their men. Natural beauty like this was too rare.
For once, he looked out and saw someone in need of more than a loaded wallet. “I’ve got pretty broad shoulders,” he said when she remained silent.
“I can see that.” Without warning, a smile caught the corners of her mouth and a sparkle settled in those eyes, which now openly appraised him from the top of his black baseball cap to the toes of his running shoes.
Since Bear never required a dress code for employees or patrons of his small establishment, Mac always dressed comfortably. Very comfortably. Mac knew he looked grungy and liked it. Apparently, so did she. He liked that even more.
“I’ve been walking for a while, and that seat you mentioned does sound awfully good.” She did a poor job of fluttering her lashes over makeup-smeared eyes. Damned if he wasn’t intrigued…and more than a little turned on. She took a step forward, yelped in what he assumed was pain and collapsed, sagging against him for support.
“I’ve had women throw themselves at me before, but never like this.”
“Maybe because they haven’t hiked over a mile in the desert on bare feet,” she retorted.
Mac muttered a curse and swung her into his arms.
“Just what do you think you’re doing?” She sounded outraged at his chivalry.
“Helping you out, unless you’d like to attempt that step again…” He lowered his hands as if to lower her back down onto the floor.
Soft hands curled around his neck, holding on with an iron grip. She was stronger than she looked.
“Ready to admit you need help?”
She nodded, then settled her body into his, so he felt the soft curve of her breast pressing into his chest and her firm behind nestling against his stomach. If he squirmed, he’d drop her, but ignoring the lingering sensations was damn near impossible.
She tipped her head back and sighed. “My hero.”
“Oh, brother.” Her hair brushed against his cheek. The scent of peaches clung to her skin despite her trek through the desert. His effort to block out the surge of sexual awareness that shot through him failed dismally.
Mac deposited her in the nearest chair, then lifted her foot for inspection. He ran a finger along the cut and bruised arch. Her startled gaze met his.
“I have antiseptic and gauze upstairs,” he said in a husky voice. Or at least, he knew Bear did. His friend had broken up many late-night brawls, and Mac had often hung around to help clean the place, and his pal, up afterward.
“Upstairs?” she squeaked. Then she quickly cleared her throat and started over. “Upstairs where? A room? An apartment? What?” Her curiosity seemed to overtake her initial doubts and she peppered him with questions, growing more confident with each.
“An apartment,” he said, amused.
“With a shower?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Shower and tub, why?”
“Curiosity. And you live there?” she asked, now wide-eyed.
“Yeah.” For the week, or as long as it took Bear to win his lady back. For reasons he didn’t want to inspect too closely, Mac decided against telling her that he was only helping out. It had been a long time since he’d been known and liked as plain Mac, separate and apart from Ryan Mackenzie, owner of The Resort.
He’d be the first to admit his own mistakes contributed to the problem. Wealth had come to the Mackenzies when Mac had been too brash and arrogant to understand how people, namely women, would react. A single, rich resort owner was a prime catch, and he’d stupidly made himself a target for gold diggers and fortune hunters alike.
Taking care of his mother and younger sister had forced him to realize his mistakes and grow up fast. The females in his family had relied on him for financial security and emotional backing. He couldn’t afford to let them down, and after his initial lapse in judgment, he hadn’t. Mac had trained himself to be wary, which was why he remained silent now.
This woman’s vulnerability appealed to him, and he wanted a fresh read, a chance to be liked as an ordinary guy with no preconceived notions getting in the way.
He glanced over. She sat fiddling with the top layer of her skirt. “Do you live alone?” she asked, this time without meeting his gaze.
“Completely.”
“Oh. Oh. Good.” A blush made its way through the dirt and makeup that stained her cheeks.
From embarrassed to brazen and back again, he thought. “Good?”
“For my feet.” She forced herself to stand on her own. “And my dignity. Do you think I could wash up?” she asked.
He nodded. “While you’re at it, I’ll send a tow for the car and I’ll have one of the boys pick up your suitcases.”
“The boys?”
“They surrounded you when you first came in. Now they’re eyeballing you from across the room.”
She grinned. “Oh, those boys. They drive?”
“Not legally.”
Her laughter filled the room and a few other places inside him he’d thought were frozen for good. “About those suitcases,” she said. “How do you know I have any?”
“Sweetheart…” His gaze trailed over her shapely body and white skin. “Everything about you screams tourist.”
He reached out to help her walk, but she shook her head.
“I can do this.”
“Okay, but I’m right behind you if you need any help. Up those stairs.” He pointed to the darkened hallway in the corner, and she headed off in that direction, unsteady on her feet. “One of you boys watch the bar,” he called to the group of regulars that Bear trusted as much as he did his best friend.
Mac stared at her retreating back, watched as she climbed the stairs, leaving him on the step below. Her silken skirt ended midthigh, which wasn’t a problem when they were on the same level. But he hadn’t anticipated the view once she hit the middle of the stairs. Nor had he realized how sexy and feminine her undergarments would be. As the short skirt flounced behind her, a hint of lace teased and tormented his already-active libido. Heat rolled over him in a huge wave. He broke into a sweat.
And to think, he’d almost refused to help Bear because he had a number of huge conventions arriving throughout the week. He was glad he’d delegated to his staff, entrusting the numerous doctors, lawyers and financiers to his employees. He wouldn’t have missed this for anything.
As he followed his sexy, straggly visitor upstairs, he realized he’d seen more of her than he’d seen of any other woman in a long while. And he didn’t even know her name.
SHE’D FOUND HER MAN. Too bad she had no idea what to do with him. Samantha closed the bathroom door behind her and stripped off her skirt, shaking the residual dust into the tub. Who’d have guessed the first man she laid eyes on, the first man under eighty, she amended, would be the one?
Her questions hadn’t exactly been subtle, but with those dark, deep-set eyes staring into hers, and that mustache lifting over a sensual grin, she’d barely been able to pull herself together enough to think clearly.
She pictured him waiting on the other side of the door, and her pulse pounded in a combination of anticipation and apprehension. There was no question the dark-haired, gorgeous stranger suited her perfectly. A bartender in an off-the-beaten-path tavern, he was a man she could thoroughly enjoy and then never see again. As long as she could work up the nerve.
Samantha located the towels he said would be on a shelf over the toilet, and hung one over a hook on the wall. She glanced around the room. Small but with all the proper amenities and stark in a masculine sort of way. No frills. Just a toothbrush and a bottle of aftershave lay on top of the vanity. She picked up the black bottle and brought the nozzle near her nose. One illicit sniff of musk and she was no longer alone. His scent surrounded her. He surrounded her.
She’d never been with a man wearing a mustache and wondered what kind of stimulation it would add to an intense sexual experience? She shut her eyes. Her senses soared and her imagination took over. Soft lips, warm breath and an erotic rush of sensation playing over her already-sensitized skin. Firm yet gentle lips nibbling their way up her legs, the rasp of whiskers along her thigh. She cupped her breasts and felt as if his hands had settled over the tight fabric, as if his fingers plucked and pulled, bringing her nipples to life.
She opened her eyes to find herself standing alone in the unfamiliar bathroom, thoroughly aroused and completely appalled. She had never done anything like this before, had never even felt anything like this before. Without meeting her gaze in the mirror, she removed her hands from her chest and focused her attention on turning on the shower instead.
Her hands trembled, hindering the process. How could she want one man so badly? A man she barely knew. She didn’t know the answer to that question any more than she knew how she’d find the nerve to go through with this seduction. Coming up with her plan from the safety of her apartment had been easy. Contemplating her bleak future had carried her resolve through the long plane ride out here. But now, faced with a sexy, masculine stranger in the flesh…
Samantha trembled. All she had left was this week. She hadn’t planned her life this way, nor would this be the choice she’d make if her father’s future weren’t at stake. But it was. And if her life came down to this one week, she’d better make the most of it. Her chance waited just outside the door.
If she wanted to find a way into his arms, she’d best start by cleaning herself up. But first, she needed to get a drink to soothe her parched throat, she thought, reaching for a nearby glass and filling it with water. That decided, she felt more confident. In a few hours, if she was lucky, she’d discover…how to scare the poor man half to death. Samantha caught a glimpse of her face in the mirror and gasped, dropping the glass into the sink. With her dirt-streaked cheeks, tearstains and tangled mass of hair, how could she have considered seducing him? Whatever made her think he’d be interested?
Without warning, the door burst open and she had company. “What the hell was that?”
Her grab for the towel came too late because her fantasy lover stood in the door frame staring at her practically naked body. Okay, he’d seen her shirt before, but the sexy underwear, her one concession to femininity beneath the tailored suits she wore to work, left her midriff completely exposed. She glanced down. The small triangular scrap of material between her legs showed more than she wanted him to see at the present time.
“Well?”
She didn’t answer. She couldn’t. Not if her life depended on it. She was more concerned with covering herself. She tried to remove the towel from the hook on the wall, but the shaking of her hands hindered the attempt.
She turned to gain better leverage and heard his sharp intake of breath.
“Those things ought to be outlawed.”
Her hands went to her behind, covered only by flimsy lace with scalloped edging, and at that moment, Samantha discovered she wasn’t as brave as she’d planned to be. She was mortified.
How could she even think she could seduce a man? Nothing showed like inexperience, and though she’d had relationships before, she’d never tackled a one-night stand. After the impression she’d made, she wouldn’t be doing so tonight.
She’d blown her chance and devastated her ego. Not bad for a night’s work.
He brushed past her. A powerful dose of his masculine scent overwhelmed her like an aphrodisiac. As if she needed more than just a look to arouse her beyond belief.
He yanked the towel off the hook, making the maneuver look easy. “Cover yourself,” he growled.
Startled by his tone, she turned to look at him. His eyes had darkened, the smoky gray transformed into deep charcoal. Color highlighted his cheekbones and those firm-looking lips were pulled into a tight line.
“Now.” He shook the towel before her eyes. “Or I won’t be responsible for my actions.”
“Yes, sir.” Her gaze slipped to his waist and the telltale bulge in his tight jeans. Pure female pleasure stirred inside her. Her technique might need work, but she hadn’t botched things after all. Her doubts scattered, along with her short bout of self-pity. This man wanted her, and she refused to question her good fortune.
Taking her time, she accepted the towel, wrapping the soft terry around her body until she could tuck the free end between her breasts. “Done,” she said, with what she hoped was a flirtatious smile.
A hoarse groan escaped her companion. “Time’s up,” he muttered.
Samantha swallowed hard. “It is?” To her chagrin, her voice trembled when she spoke. “You mean, now?”
She’d given him the location of her car and the keys, and she’d hoped to have clean clothes in which to seduce him. Her plans hadn’t included his take-charge personality. The differences between fantasy and reality came back to haunt her again. She wasn’t ready.
She’d have preferred a little get-to-know-you time first. She’d have liked a shower. Obviously, he had no need for such prerequisites, and nervousness once again replaced her prior certainty.
Yet when he held out his hand, she placed hers inside the large, warm palm. Touching him provided a sensual pleasure she couldn’t have imagined. If she allowed herself to think about what was to come, she’d pass out on the tile floor. His long fingers wrapped around her smaller hand. Fingers she had no doubt could bring great pleasure.
“Well?” he asked.
“Well, what?” He couldn’t possibly expect her to make the first move. She licked her lips, uncomfortably aware of the small bathroom space and his overpowering presence.
“Can we get on with this before the room becomes a sauna?”
Apparently the man wasn’t into preliminaries. Samantha hoped he liked to bask in the afterglow, because the way things were going, this wasn’t going to be the slow, sensual experience she’d envisioned.
“I don’t think…”
“Oh, for God’s sake. You don’t want to go first, I will. My name’s Mac,” he said, shaking her hand with a determined grip. “What’s yours?”
CHAPTER TWO
MAC STOOD IN THE DOOR frame of the small bathroom, unable to believe he’d burst in without warning. When he’d heard the shatter of glass, he figured she’d come face-to-face with a rodent of some kind. Instead, she stood half dressed, staring at him as if he’d invaded her privacy. Which, considering the room she was in and her state of undress, he had.
“My…name?” She blinked, obviously startled.
“Yeah. I’ve seen pretty much everything, sweetheart.” And he knew what she looked like when she was cold. His gaze inadvertently went to her chest, now covered by layers of terry cloth. “I doubt telling me your name would be considered a breach of etiquette.”
She blushed scarlet. “Sam…” She paused in thought. “Just Sam.”
She hadn’t removed her hand from his, and he let his thumb drift over her skin. She didn’t seem to mind, or she was too flustered to notice. Either way, he liked the way her palm fit into his.
“Sam.” He played with the name, tossing it around in his mind, savoring it on his lips. Then he thought of the rounded breasts and the darkened nipples visible beneath the white top. His imagination conjured two perfectly shaped, creamy white cheeks. A masculine name didn’t suit her and he shook his head. “Doesn’t work for me. Short for Samantha?” he guessed.
She exhaled loudly. “Yes. But that doesn’t work for me.”
He smiled, enjoying this woman, if not yet understanding her. “Mind if I ask why not?”
“I’m on vacation, and I’d like to forget the people who call me that…at least for this week.”
A runaway like himself. He understood the need to escape from life, work and the people who occupied those other worlds. Family gave Mac the best alternative, but they weren’t close enough to offer a quick reprieve. Courtesy of her husband’s job, his sister’s family lived a couple of hours away, and with the birth of his first nephew, Mac’s mother had moved out of the hotel to be closer to Kate. With his only family miles away—including a new baby he didn’t see nearly often enough—Mac understood his recent restlessness. In fact, it was almost as if he was itching to settle down himself.
Short of that, Bear’s place was his best and closest means of escape. He glanced at the woman whose hand he still held, wondering how far she’d run. And from what. “And after the week’s up?” he asked.
She shrugged. “I go back to my life.”
“To being Samantha.”
“That’s right.” She pulled her hand back and hugged her arms around the fluffy towel. “I haven’t had a vacation in years. So I thought I’d take a little time for myself before I go to a conference next weekend.”
