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The flustered look on Ashley’s beautiful face as she screeched to a halt out of his reach almost made him take pity on her. Almost.
“I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to insist that you tell me who you are and what business you have here in my home, at this hour, and in that—” she waved her thick, black leather, antiquated day planner at his grubby riding gear “—that…state.”
Realizing he still wore his bicycle helmet, he slowly peeled it from his head and shook out the hair he hadn’t taken the time to have cut before he’d bailed out of New York. He needed to come up with a story to get her off his back, but he was distracted by how tightly she’d pulled her gorgeous golden hair into its bun at the base of her slender, elegant neck.
He stepped toward her. The urge to free her hair seized him. Which was ridiculous. Delectable women were as common as Blue Chip stocks and bonds in and around the MacDougal clan. And he’d never before felt the need to start a campaign to free repressed hair. Nonetheless, his fingers itched.
He leaned closer, catching a whiff of her delicate scent, a designer fragrance he recognized but couldn’t name. Admiring her willingness to stand her ground even though he deliberately crowded her, he said, “Do you like omelets? I make a killer omelet. Let me make you a great big, fluffy one and we can get to know each other the only way a man and woman should. Early in the morning, the spring sun shining through the windows after a long night…”
She blushed vividly.
Gooooaaaal!
But since he had had a long night—flying the red-eye, waiting forever to pick up his mountain bike and other stuff from the oversize baggage check, loading the rented SUV to the gills and arriving at his college buddy’s house so early he’d decided to go for a ride through the woods surrounding the estate rather than disturb anyone—he was too beat to think of anything else to say. And she looked as if she was about to scream for the police. Politely, of course.
Cursing his idiocy for not having come up with some sort of plan beyond hiding out at Harrison’s until after Stephanie’s manipulative lies became apparent and their families stopped planning a shotgun wedding, he stuck out his hand and said on a sigh, “My friends call me Mac.”
A freshly dried dirt clod lost its grip on his arm hairs and dropped with an ominous thunk between them.
She eyed his dirty hand, her posture stiff as a board, but her genetically engineered, flawless manners had her reaching for his hand. He engulfed her fair, slender and delicate hand in his big, dirty paw.
Just when their skin touched and the electricity he’d felt when she’d introduced herself earlier sparked and sent heat straight to his lap, he was hailed from behind.
“Wild Man! You’re here,” Harrison exclaimed.
Thank the god of good bagpipes. At last, a man whose brain might actually function around Miss Ashley Rivers.
HER HEART THUNDERED the way it had the last time this Mac person had taken her hand in his, and Ashley jumped at her brother’s greeting. She tried to end the handshake that wasn’t really a handshake, more a handholding, but Mac, or Wild Man, or whoever he was, wouldn’t let go. When he turned toward her brother, she sent Harrison a pointed look.
Harrison raised a golden brow, took in her trapped hand, then grinned at the other man. “I see you’ve met my sister. The hostess with the mostest.”
Not sharing her brother’s sense of humor, she said, “Actually, I haven’t been able to get him to tell me who he—”
Her captor turned his attention back to her and pumped her hand vigorously, a strangely relieved look shining in his hazel eyes. “The name’s Mac Wild. Trust me, the pleasure is all mine.”
Ashley had never heard a more fitting moniker in her life, especially compared to her brother’s polished, though just as big and handsome, looks. She couldn’t imagine Mr. Wild having any other name, with his unruly hair, his full-tilt enjoyment of life obvious in his muscular body, his animal magnetism that gave him such a sensuous presence…
Blinking, she forced herself to focus.
She racked her brain, but the name didn’t ring a bell. And she never forgot a name. His face did look vaguely familiar, but with his model good looks, she was probably thinking of some guy in a sports drink ad.
Giving a sudden, yet no less subtle tug, she extracted her hand from his and avoided his reflexive grab. Grateful her hand came away free of mud, she asked, “How do you know my brother, Mr. Wild?”
“Call me Mac.”
Harrison answered her question as he slung an arm around Mac’s shoulders. “Harvard.”
Ashley struggled to hide her surprise. Mac Wild looked more like a graduate of the X-Games than her older brother’s alma mater.
Mr. Wild cleared his throat. “Yes, well, it’s surprising what they’ll let on campus.” He raised an elbow and gave Harrison a rather rough-looking jostle.
Her brother let out a grunt then exclaimed, “Oh, that’s right. Yes, it is.”
Knowing her brother’s nonjudgmental nature would lead him to befriend a janitor as easily as a fellow summa cum laude—or fall in love with and marry a wonderful girl with a very different background than theirs—Ashley refrained from inquiring about his friend’s field of study.
Another dirt clod dropped from Mr. Wild’s person and made Harrison retract his arm and check the underside of his no longer entirely white dress shirtsleeve.
Ashley struggled to contain a baleful sigh. “What brings you to the estate this morning?”
“Other than omelets with a pretty girl? Well, let me see…” His words trailed off as he glanced at Harrison.
Harrison gave a slight nod. “Mac’s going to help me with the Dover Creek Mill modernization.”
“Really,” Ashley murmured as she opened her day planner, surprised at herself for having missed one of Harrison’s business contacts. Her father counted on her to be on top of such things. Heaven forbid Mac had been around six months ago when she’d coordinated Harrison and Juliet’s wedding. She’d be mortified to have failed to invite him, because clearly he and her brother were on good terms. And as he had intimated earlier, she would have remembered if she’d seen him at the ceremony, whether she’d met him or not. Mac Wild was not a man easily forgotten.
Harrison regained her attention by slapping Mac on the shoulder, dislodging more filth. “That’s right. Mac, here, or better known as Wild Man at Harvard, is my—” he gave his friend a head-to-toe look “—my Environmental Specialist. As a favor to me, he’s going to do an impact study of the changes I want to make at the mill.”
Ashley nodded, not surprised that Mac Wild would make a career out of something involving dirt. The man clearly was not averse to the stuff. His choice of transportation to what undoubtedly was an arranged, early-morning, casual meeting with Harrison before her brother left for his trip made sense for an earth-conscious guy. As far as Mr. Wild’s taking free rein with the Rivers’s home and hearth…Perhaps he felt his friendship with Harrison gave him greater privileges.
She heaved a sigh of relief. Not only was his presence explained, but her contact with the man would be minimal. Thank goodness. The last thing she needed right in the middle of planning Harrison’s two-year-old son Nathan’s christening was Mac Wild’s disturbing come-ons. Her hands were blessedly full as it was keeping her family’s traditions thriving and everyone from floundering beneath their social and philanthropic obligations, as her mother had done before she lost her battle with cancer.
Her gaze involuntarily flicked past the front of Mac’s bike shorts and her suit became too warm once again for the mid-May morning. Yes, it was a good thing she wouldn’t be subjected to Mr. Wild’s presence often. She didn’t have the time nor inclination for distraction.
After living her entire life in Harrison’s towering shadow, she wasn’t about to jeopardize her father’s notice and approval by losing her focus now.
And a man, especially one who could very well be cut from the same cloth as Roger, wasn’t worth the risk.
Or the heartache. Discovering Roger had been using her had rocked her to her soul. She would never, ever, open herself up to that kind of hurt again.
“Oh, hey, Ash.” Harrison drew her gaze. “I know you’ll want to kill me for springing this on you—” To his friend he gave a conspiratorial aside, “She runs a tight ship, and likes to do that whole gift-basket, arrange-for-all-your-needs-in-advance type of thing.”
Mac gave a sage nod in response, an oddly knowing look in his hazel eyes as his gaze traveled over her.
A sense of doom gripped Ashley.
To her, Harrison said, “But ol’ Wild Man is going to be our houseguest for oh…” He raised questioning brows at Mac.
Mac’s gaze fastened on hers, a predatory gleam making his eyes glow to a deep topaz. He neatly supplied, “No less than a month.”
Ashley dug her nails into the pliable leather of her day planner but forced her expression to remain pleasant. She silently chanted the Three P’s again.
Propriety, Presentation, and Principle.
“That’s right,” Harrison concurred. “No less than a month. Since he’s doing this study as a favor to me, and all, he’ll be staying here with us.”
Mac reached out and pried one of Ashley’s hands off her day planner, sending her body temperature through the roof. “And it’ll be enjoyable, I’m sure,” he practically purred before bringing her knuckles to his wonderfully sensual lips for a soft-as-you-please kiss.
For the first time in her highly refined adult life, Ashley wondered just how cold the McKenzie River, running smooth and deep at the edge of the house’s vast lawn, was this time of year. And if it would be cold enough to help her resist the temptation of Mac Wild.
Chapter Two
Mac watched Ashley’s perfectly bowed, lightly glossed and achingly kissable lips pucker ever so slightly before she made a visible effort to shift her features into a pleased expression. If he hadn’t been staring at her mouth he would have missed it. He pulled a sardonic grin.
Then he realized that for the exceedingly proper Miss Ashley to show even that much displeasure meant she must be heaving with it on the inside. Now, he knew he wasn’t that distasteful. Mud washed off, for saints’ sake.
She pulled herself up and flashed him a brilliant smile that he suspected would have knocked him to his knees if it had been a little warmer around the edges and had reached her deep-lake blue eyes. “I’m sorry I didn’t know in advance about your arrival. You would have received a much warmer—er—hospitable reception.”
He smirked. Things certainly didn’t need to get any warmer between them. “No worries, sunshine. The less pretenses, the better, as far as I’m concerned.” The pretenses of dating had landed him in this nightmare in the first place.
His mood sobering, he turned to Harrison. “Do you have a minute, or are you on your way to the office? I know you’re the big boss, now, but you do still work Fridays, right?” They needed to get their story down so no other surprises threatened this so-far perfect escape from Stephanie and her attempt to use outright lies and scandal to land herself a MacDougal.
Harrison put a hand on Mac’s shoulder. “Boy, you must be tired. I’m not going in to work today. Remember I told you that Juliet, Nathan and I are heading down to the amusement parks in southern California for two weeks? I couldn’t wait any longer to take my little man to Disneyland.”
Mac ran a hand down his cheek, wiping off dirt stuck to his whiskers. “That’s right.” He was tired. Had been since he’d discovered his family intended to use the situation with Stephanie to force him to settle down.
He couldn’t. His heart was seared with the oath he’d made on the worst day of his life, and he wasn’t about to break it for the likes of Stephanie Thorton-Stuart. Even though Harrison was leaving, Mac had come anyway because he wasn’t here for a social visit. He was here to hide.
Thankfully not noticing Mac’s seriousness, Harrison chuckled. “I think Juliet is about as excited as Nathan. She’s never been there before, so she’s vowed to hit every attraction in the place. Nathan will probably sleep through half of it.”
A surprisingly soul-wrenching envy that his friend’s true love was alive and kicking broadsided Mac. Only practice kept him from doubling over with the ache. His throat constricting, he asked, “Nathan’s…two now?”
Still oblivious, Harrison grinned and his chest swelled up, definitely the proud pop. “Two and cute as all get out. We don’t have to leave until later this morning, so you’ll get to meet Nat and his gorgeous mama. Assuming, of course, they ever get their act together and come down here for breakfast.”
Ashley, who had been watching the conversation with a look that left no doubt that the wheels were noisily turning within her beautiful and clearly not so empty head, offered, “Why don’t I go up and inform Juliet about your guest while you take Mr. Wild to the kitchen. He claims to be in dire need of sustenance.”
Pushing away the pain he’d lived with for over a decade, Mac regrouped and returned her volley. “I’m in dire need of a lot of things, sunshine.”
She smiled, but it was still tight around the edges. “Harrison will take care of you, I’m sure.”
He wanted to say that there was no way in hell Harrison could take care of what she put him in mind of, but she turned crisply and headed back toward the front of the house. Mac settled for a soft whistle through his teeth and murmured, “Holy haggis.”
Harrison laughed and pulled him by the arm in the opposite direction, saying in a soft voice, “Come on, Mac. Better men than you have tried to get a rise out of that one.”
Unable to take his eyes off the sexy sway of Ashley’s retreating backside beneath her straight, cream skirt, Mac said, “But you know I’ve never been able to resist a challenge, Harrison old man, especially if I’m told it can’t be done.”
“Yes, but Ash is in a class by herself when it comes to single-mindedness.”
Mac jerked to a stop just inside the large, French Provincial-style kitchen. Maybe Ashley was in a class of two. Stephanie was proving to be very single-minded, also. Damn her scheming heart.
Heedful of the petite, gray-haired woman in a serviceable, light gray dress busily cooking pancakes at the professional range top, he said darkly, “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Harrison patted the small woman on the back as he went by. “Good morning, Marie.”
She turned and gave him a genuine-looking smile that lit up her olive-skinned face and dark, almond-shaped eyes. “Good morning, Mr. Rivers.”
“Marie, this is a good friend of mine—” Harrison indicated to Mac “—Mac, ah, Wild. He’s going to be staying here for a month or so. Don’t let him charm you into making him some haggis, or any of the other bizarre stuff he has a penchant for.”
Mac gave Harrison his best glare. “I do not have a penchant for haggis.”
“You’re always mentioning it—”
“It’s a family saying.”
Having never met a cook—either short-order or gourmet—he didn’t like, Mac smiled at Marie, hoping his pearly whites could wipe away from her mind the image of having to prepare sheep intestines. “I’m of Scottish descent. Though my family can’t seem to get it through their heads that living in America since the colonial days pretty much makes us Americans.”
His charm working, the older woman beamed at him. “It’s a pleasure to have you here, Mr. Wild, and I’ll gladly cook you anything you wish. Just let me know far enough in advance so I can purchase ingredients if I need to.”
His stomach rumbled in anticipation, but Mac assured her, “You won’t have to do anything special for me, Marie. I can tell by the way this kitchen smells that I’ll be more than happy with what you normally prepare.”
Harrison peered over Marie’s shoulder. “Don’t tell me you’re making Nathan pancakes again. You made them for him for dinner last night. The kid is going to turn into one.”
She laughed. “That baby couldn’t be anything but an angel, and today our angel is getting mouse-shaped pancakes in honor of your trip.”
Mac’s mouth started to water. “Ooh, if I go shower, can I have one?”
“Just wash your hands. You can have as many as you’d like.”
Mac grinned at her and made for the sink. “You’re my new best friend, Marie.”
She giggled and dismissed him with a wave, but she dumped a ton of batter on the griddle.
Harrison said, “Just eggs are fine for me, Marie.”
Mac washed and then sat down across from Harrison at the breakfast table, careful not to dislodge any dirt in Marie’s clean kitchen. Being in good with the cook could make a man’s life very pleasant. Double-checking to make sure she was too far away to hear, he said, “I can do Environmental Specialist.”
“It seemed right up your alley.”
“Come to think of it, it is. Too bad I have a billion in acquisitions and mergers to oversee or I might actually try it out.”
Harrison’s eyebrows went up. “So you finally broke the big ‘b’ barrier?”
“Yep. Last quarter.” Mac realized he’d puffed out his chest like Harrison had done at the mention of his son. Deep inside, Mac would have rather been a proud papa, but without Kate, that wasn’t going to happen. His business would be enough. “It’s been a real bear to hold on to, though. I’d gotten heavily involved in high-tech.”
“As well you should, seeing as all those neat gadgets let you do your job while on the back of your mountain bike, or hanging off a cliff…”
Or dodging paternity scandals. Harrison didn’t say the words, but Mac knew he was thinking them. His friend had stepped up and taken responsibility when he’d found out he’d fathered a child. But at least he’d actually had sex with the woman.
The bitterness simmering in Mac since his family had sided with Stephanie started to boil. “It’s past time for my family to accept that I have no intention of ever settling down, Harrison.”
His friend gave him a level look. “Kate’s been gone for a long time, Mac. She’d want you to—”
“I know exactly what she wanted me to do, and I swore I’d do it,” he snapped, the wound as raw as ever. But not wanting his friendship with Harrison to suffer, he reeled himself back in and after a moment, blew out a rueful breath. “I’m sorry. It’s just that this has all turned into such a mess. I never even slept with Stephanie. I took her out a few times, to make my folks happy, but it was clear from the get-go she was looking to set herself up for life in the manner in which she’s become accustomed.”
“Do you think she’s pregnant?”
Mac snorted. “No. She wouldn’t risk her figure just yet.”
“Then how does she think she’s going to get away with claiming she is?”
