He spotted the Holmes heiress immediately. She looked like her mother, but not. Her icy-blue eyes warmed as she talked to her friends, then narrowed when aimed at him. Of the women, she was also the tallest, nearly six feet in the blade-sharp black stiletto heels she wore.

She was stunning, but not his type at all. Cool perfection wrapped in moneyed NYC sophistication. When Ruthie introduced them, her smile was as distant as a Montana winter.

She extended her hand. “My idea of adventure is a massage at the spa, so I doubt we’ll be seeing much of each other this weekend.”

As he took her hand, heat slid through his veins, surprising him. There was something about her … something challenging, interesting. He found himself considering ways to thaw her out.

“Your mother didn’t like me much when she first met me, either.” He smiled as suspicion flitted through Victoria’s eyes. “She warmed up eventually.”

VICTORIA PULLED HER HAND AWAY from Jared McKenna and resisted the urge to make a fist to dispel the tingling sensation she’d gotten from touching him. “You know my mother?”

“I took her and some teens from the foundation on a cowboy adventure weekend last year.”

Victoria remembered her grandmother mentioning the event, as Nana was determined to get her daughter out of the city and into a wide-open space. Something about fear of dust and a lack of vitamin D. Victoria had been thrilled she hadn’t been recruited.

Fear of dust was a documented condition that specifically targeted people with a mostly black wardrobe.

Victoria raised her eyebrows at the man before her. “My mother rode a horse?”

“No, but the kids and the staff did, and they loved it, so she was happy.”

How could he tell her mother was happy? Had she actually smiled? Complimented him? Joanne didn’t warm up to people, either.

Even big, hot outdoorsmen.

Especially big, hot outdoorsmen.

He had ridiculously broad shoulders, muscular arms, and a deep tan that could only come from spending endless hours in the sun. No lack of vitamin D there. With his wrinkled T-shirt and khaki shorts, bare feet, windblown dark hair and laughing brown eyes, he seemed the antithesis of any man she’d be interested in.

And yet he’d survived a weekend with her mother. If there was anything Victoria admired, it was resiliency.

This guy was the walking, breathing picture of rugged.

“Hi, Ruthanne,” Shelby said from beside Victoria. “It’s great to finally meet you.”

“You, too. And call me Ruthie. Everybody does.” Her gaze flicked to Victoria. “Except Vicky, of course.”

Victoria clenched her jaw. Her name was not Vicky. She, in fact, hated to be called that—as Ruthanne well knew.

Before she could remind her friend of that detail, Shelby asked a question about her supplies for the weekend, and all the other women followed Mrs. K on her tour of the kitchen and pantry.

“The pantry requires a tour?” Victoria asked, though only Jared was around to hear her.

“They used to have a footman haul stuff the full ten feet from the pantry to the counter, but he wasn’t fast enough, so he was let go.”

Victoria resisted the urge to smile. The house was certainly like something out of the English countryside, and the perfect setting for formal servants. But clearly, Jared the Rugged wasn’t a history major.

“Footmen don’t work in the kitchen,” she said.

“You’d know.”

“How? I live in an apartment in Manhattan. I don’t have a footman.”

“A maid?”

“I use a cleaning service.”

“Every day?”

“Every week.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Is there a particular reason you’re interested in my domestic situation?”

That crafty grin appeared. “Long as we’re on the subject … do you have a live-in boyfriend?”

“No,” Victoria answered, before she thought to tell him her relationships were none of his business.

“Sleepover boyfriend?”

“I don’t see how this—”

“Pretty cranky response, so I’d say no. I bet you kick them out fifteen minutes after sex.”

“I do not.”

“After a one-for-the-road drink?”

“No.”

She gave her lover a bottle of water before he left. And they all left perfectly satisfied. What was he implying? That she was lousy in bed? That she was cold and methodical like her mother? Not that she knew about her mom in bed, anyway.

In fact, the whole idea of her in the throes of passion seemed wrong.

Maybe Victoria had been fertilized in a petri dish. And why, before now, hadn’t she ever thought to ask that question? It made perfect sense. Given her grandfather’s proclivity toward science and brilliant surgical techniques, why hadn’t she wondered—

Halting her runaway thoughts, it occurred that in less than a minute Jared had more information about her personal life than her assistant had in five years.

Victoria glared at him. “So I guess those muscles in your biceps don’t cloud your brain power, do they?”

His eyes softened to a shade of gold. He lifted his arm and flexed the muscle. “You noticed, huh?”

He had to be kidding with this come-on. “Look here, buddy,” she said, leaning forward, only to continue in an urgent whisper, “I don’t have time for your games. I’m not here to flirt or banter or have sex—which I’m great at, by the way. I’m here to get a promotion. Richard Rutherford’s account is going to secure my future. I don’t know who you think you’re playing—maybe the mealy daughter of the legendary Joanne Holmes—but I’m not her. I’ve got my own success and agenda, and that’s going to take me to the top.”

“Do you have any idea how hot you are right now?”

“I …” She stopped, humiliated to realize a heated flush was crawling up her neck. There was no way she was turned on. She was … surprised.

But nobody caught her off guard.

“You need to take a big step backward, cowboy,” she said, keeping her voice low and firm.

“Me? You’re the one who moved closer. You step back.”

“I will not.”

“So what do you suggest we do, since we’re already this close?”

“We’re not going to do anything.”

“No ideas? Fine.” He slid the pad of his thumb across her bottom lip. “I have a few.”

“Everybody getting settled in?”

At the sound of Richard Rutherford’s voice, Victoria leaped away from Jared.

Her heart pounded against her chest. What was she doing? How could she have forgotten even for a minute her reason for coming to the house party?

She approached Richard as he stood by the kitchen counter. Her professional smile was now in place and all distracting thoughts about Jared McKenna set aside. “Richard, it’s so good to see you. What a lovely spot for a weekend party.”

“Thank you, Victoria.” Wearing a browny-beige-and-yellow argyle sweater and khaki pants, he looked like the picture of Casual Rich Man on Weekend Golf Outing. “We’re pleased to have you as our guest.”

His formal speech struck her oddly. It was classic Richard, but it was wrong. That damn Jared. His easy, casual manner had spoiled normalcy.

“I know we’re all going to have a great time,” she said, “but I was hoping we could find a few minutes to talk about the new campaign.”

Richard smiled. “I’m sure we will. Business is pleasure, after all.”

“Exactly.” That was normal. How could she have gotten distracted by some barefoot cowboy wannabe? Correction, adventure tour guide. What kind of job was that, anyway?

For romantic liaisons, she had more sophisticated men in mind. For professional pursuits, she had a plan, and she was making it work.

It had to work.

The intercom buzzed again. “That’s probably our other guests, Mrs. Keegan,” Richard announced, as the housekeeper bustled back into the kitchen. “When they get to the house, bring them into the front parlor. We’ll have tea there and let everyone get acquainted.”

Jared started toward the back door. “I’ll make sure all the equipment is ready to go.”

“No, no.” Richard waved his hand. “Join us for tea. It’ll be easier to introduce everyone at the same time.”

Jared looked as if he’d rather handle a live rattlesnake.

Victoria had to agree with his foreboding. She couldn’t imagine that big body perched on one of Rose’s antique settees or holding a dainty china cup.

But the rough-and-tumble Mr. McKenna, thankfully, wasn’t Victoria’s problem. “Who else is coming?” she asked Richard. “Anybody I know?”

Maybe he’d invited some executives from his company. Wouldn’t it be convenient if she got to meet the vice president of operations? Or even marketing? She could impress all the decision makers in one fell swoop and have the contract ready by the time she got back to the office on Tuesday, the day Coleman Sr. announced his retirement. She could almost hear the champagne cork pop.

She was so caught up in her fantasy, she almost didn’t catch the name Richard said.

And when she did, she was sure she was hallucinating.

“Did you just say Peter Standish?” she managed to query around the lump in her throat.

He nodded. “And his wife, Emily. Charming couple. They really—”

“I’m sorry.” Victoria could hardly believe she was interrupting him, but it was vital she dispel her delusion before anyone noticed she was on the verge of panicking. “Not the same Peter Standish who works at Coleman?”

Richard smiled as if he’d given her a particularly clever gift. “The very same. All one, big, happy family.”

Victoria’s mouth went dry. “But …”

Calla darted to her side and slid her arm around her waist, obviously noticing that Victoria needed the support. “Richard, would you mind if I took some pictures of the property while I’m here this weekend? I’m hoping to do an article for Atlantic Magazine.”

“Snap away. In fact, after tea I’ll show you where Beach-side Homes shot their summer spread.”

“Oh, would you?” Beaming at him, Calla stepped forward and linked her arm with Richard’s. “I want all the details.”

Victoria stared, frozen, as they headed out of the room. She could hear Shelby and Mrs. Keegan preparing tea and trays of cookies, but their voices seemed to float to her from a long way off.

“Who’s Peter Standish?” Jared asked from close behind her. “One of the lovers you kicked out without so much as a one-for-the-road drink?”

She didn’t have the strength for a comeback, or even to move away. In fact, she considered turning around and laying her head against his wide, muscular chest—if only for a second. “My office rival,” she said woodenly.

“What do you do?”

She swiveled and wished she hadn’t, since their faces—specifically their lips—wound up mere inches apart. “My mother didn’t tell you?”

Confusion swam in his eyes. “Not that I remember.”

Why would she? She’s The Legend; I’m the trainee. “I’m a vice president at Coleman Public Relations.”

He straightened, and she was almost sorry for the loss of closeness. “Ah … the new safe.”

Victoria scowled. “What do you know about it? It’s supposed to be top secret.”

“Rose told me.”

Victoria found that an odd way for a temporary employee to refer to the venerable Rose Rutherford. But then her hostess had a fair amount of charm, which she was rumored to dispense heavily on cute, young guys.

“You really think you can convince people to spend several grand on a big metal box?” he asked.

My mother could. Dispelling all doubt, Victoria lifted her chin. “Given the right motivation, I can convince people to spend several grand on anything.”

“And what’s the right motivation this time?”

“The Rutherford Securities contract and a senior vice presidency.”

“One the unwelcome Mr. Standish is also up for?”

“Not if my boss has any sense.”

“Does he?”

“Most of the time.” She fisted her hand at her side. “What is he doing here? Why is he ruining my plans? Why in the world did Richard invite him?”

“Your boss?”

Victoria sighed. Jared had already proved he wasn’t dense. Being difficult, however, seemed to come just as naturally. “My rival.”

“Want my opinion?”

“You ride horses and consult on corporate politics?”

His eyes darkened for an instant, and she knew the insult had hit home. She was unprepared when his reaction made her feel guilty, though.

When had she gotten so mean?

Victoria had never been particularly gentle, but her obsession with ambition had changed her. Tact was rare outside of landing a deal. Vulnerability was reserved for only a few. Was her desire to live up to her mother’s legacy so important? Was it really impossible to be successful and yet different from her?

“I watch people,” he said, his anger restrained, yet apparent. “Mostly people like you. You run around in circles, chasing each other, or the next big deal or trophies and promotions. Seems to me like a giant waste of time.”

What else is there? she almost asked. “And what do you do that’s so much better?”

“I chase adventure,” he said, his voice quiet and deep. “Wanna join me?”

She dismissed the spark of desire she felt. She had bigger things at stake than sex. And abandoning a lifetime of climbing the corporate ladder wasn’t an option. Hell, ambition was coded into her DNA. “Can’t,” she said, forcing strength into her voice that usually came naturally. “I need this promotion.”

“You probably deserve it.”

“I do.”

“So you surely realize why Richard invited you and your rival to the same party.”

“Do I?”

“Yeah. Richard likes to be the center of attention.”

“Of course he does, but how do you know—” She stopped as his intention became clear. “Richard wants us to fight for the contract.”

Jared nodded.

Victoria wanted to scream over the injustice. If Peter got the Rutherford contract instead of her, he’d likely get the senior VP position, too. Her grand plan was crumbling around her, and all before the weekend had even started.

“If it matters,” Jared said lightly, “I’m rooting for you.”

“Why?”

He shrugged. “I like winners.”

“And you think I’ll win.”

“Call it a hunch.”

WHILE THE SUN BURNED invitingly outside, Jared drank tea and learned tons of useless information.

The temperature was ninety-one, the traffic was murder, a local politician had been caught in an illicit affair with his assistant, and Richard and Peter had played golf earlier in the week, which led Rich to tell his buddy about the new safe and the impending PR campaign.

Jared didn’t consider chasing a little white ball across manicured lawns an actual sport, but he recognized that more deals were made during such mundane silliness than were negotiated in boardrooms.

Standing in the corner, since he didn’t trust the structural integrity of Rose’s antique furniture, he bit into a cookie and realized one positive thing—Chef Shelby could cook.

He had no doubt Victoria was mad enough to chew nails, but she held her teacup and smiled indulgently as the golfing buddies recounted their round.

“Are they going to tell us about every stroke on every hole?” he asked Shelby, who had approached him with an offer of more cookies, which he gratefully took.

“Apparently.” Watching the pair demonstrate teeing off at hole fifteen, she angled her head, seeming to feel the same confusion Jared did. “Guys at home in Georgia brag about shooting animals in the woods and drinking beer.”

“Guys in Montana are pretty much the same.”

“Richard isn’t really going to hire that goofy suck-up Peter over Victoria, is he?”

“I’m not sure management is his strong suit.”

Shelby focused on Jared, obviously suspicious about how a ski and scuba expert understood corporate hiring. “Oh?”

“Not my specialty, either,” he said casually. He was going to have to be more careful what he said if he planned to pull off his disguise as a mere employee. “‘Course, I’ve made bad decisions myself. He once talked me into letting him parasail.”

“Sounds fun. How was that a bad idea?”

“He’s afraid of heights.”

“Which he discovered once he was a hundred feet in the air, I’ll bet.”

Jared winked. “You got it.”

“I can’t imagine what’s keeping Mother,” Richard said loudly, dragging Jared’s attention back to the rest of the group.

“Oh, gee,” Shelby muttered to Jared. “We’ve already gone through all eighteen holes?”

“Seemed like a lot more.”

As Shelby laughed, Victoria glared in Jared’s direction. What’d he do? Turncoat Richard got indulgent smiles, and he got the brunt of her temper? How was that fair?

He could use some fresh air. “I’m sure Rose’ll be down in a minute,” he said to the assembly. “While we’re waiting, why don’t we head outside? I’ll show everybody what we’ve got planned for the weekend.”

Setting their teacups aside, the group followed Jared out of the room.

“I’m not really good with animals,” Victoria said as she passed him at the back door.

Richard moved up beside her and slipped his arm around her waist. “Not to worry. The horses are upstate in a show. Jared has water sports set up—Jet Skis, fishing gear and scuba equipment. Something for everybody.”

She fixed her gaze on Jared. “All that, huh?”

He stared right back. “I’ll be happy to demonstrate anything you think you might like.”

Calla, walking behind Victoria, giggled, clearly getting the double meaning in his offer. Victoria ignored him and picked up her pace down the brick stairs.

She was going to fall and break her neck in those ridiculous shoes.

Before he followed the guests, he noticed Shelby and Mrs. K loading the dishwasher. “Come on, ladies. You, too. You can’t stay cooped up in the kitchen for four days.”

The housekeeper waggled her finger. “With all you’ve got goin’ on, Jared dear, everybody’s got to be properly fed.” Nevertheless, the two women followed him out the door.

Once there, Jared took a deep, relieved breath.

Hot though it might be in the sun, he’d been claustrophobic in the house. Crystal blue-green water dotted with white-caps brushed the pristine sandy shore. Clumps of sea grass bracketed the wooden dock jutting toward the ocean. Boating traffic was fairly light today, though by Saturday afternoon the waterways would be teaming with crafts of every shape and size.

When a man had this kind of view, why waste time looking at anything else?

Not to mention that kind of view.

He watched Victoria’s backside sway as she strolled onto the dock. Though her hand was tucked around Richard’s arm, Jared was confident he’d feel her touch soon enough.

Even out of his element, he had a fair amount of charm. And he couldn’t wait to use it to break through the reserved shell around Victoria Holmes.

Whistling, he joined the others on the dock. “Is this everybody?”

“Except Mother,” Richard said.

“And her gentleman friend, Sal,” Ruthie added. “He’s arriving around dinnertime.”

Rose had a boyfriend? Good for her. Plus, romance on as many fronts as possible could only help his cause with Victoria.

Especially since, at the moment, she seemed determined to monopolize Richard, for reasons that had nothing to do with passion.

Still, a little moonlight, a good meal, a stroll on the beach … Maybe Jared could get Victoria to set business aside for a while.

“How many of you have ever scuba dived?” he asked the assembled group.

Only Peter’s and Victoria’s hands went up.

“You don’t have to worry about me,” her colleague said smugly. “I’m an expert diver.”

Victoria pressed her lips together as if resisting the urge to contradict him. “I went on a couple of dives in college, if that counts.”

“It does,” Jared assured her. “It’ll come back to you. For everyone else who’s interested, I can teach you the basics in the pool in an hour or so. If you’re comfortable, we can go on a short dive. If not, there’s plenty of snorkeling equipment to use.”

As Jared explained all the activities available, the importance of not doing anything alone, and the tentative schedule he’d worked out, he discovered Peter was apparently an expert at everything. And yet Jared would bet his best saddle the guy didn’t know how to swim competently, much less that he’d dived at the Great Barrier Reef.

“Anybody want to hop on a Jet Ski?” he asked to stall Peter’s next overblown story.

As he’d expected, nearly everyone refused. He’d discovered city people had to gradually warm up to fun. This crowd would probably walk down the steps of the pool rather than simply dive in.

Calla, his only volunteer, ran up to the house to get her suit on, but the others wanted to unpack and get ready for dinner. Shelby and Mrs. K had to start making the meal.

“Steak?” Jared asked hopefully as he descended the ladder toward the Jet Ski floating there.

“Thai food,” Shelby called down. “Fish cakes, grilled pork satay, cucumber salad, baked shrimp with noodles, and chicken curry.”

Mrs. K clasped her hands. “Doesn’t it sound exotic? Shelby’s going to show me how to make everything.”

Climbing on the watercraft, Jared saluted. “Based on the cookies, I have full faith in both of you. But is there steak in my future?”

“Monday,” they said as one.

“For future reference,” Shelby added with a wink, “Victoria loves Thai food.”

Jared had no doubt she did. Exotic and spicy fit her perfectly.

He started the engine, then glanced up to spot Richard walking toward the house with Peter on one side and Victoria on the other.

Why the image bothered him so much, Jared wasn’t sure.

Instead, he focused on his job. He helped Calla onto the Jet Ski, and she held on for dear life as he streaked through the waves, jumped the crests and turned his face to the sun and salty spray.

The vision of Victoria’s stunning face wouldn’t go away, however. He compared the blue of the sea to her eyes. He remembered the startling black sand of Waianapanapa Beach in Maui, and how her hair would blend into it like an ancient exotic goddess merging with the land. He wondered how she’d fare on the open waters, unconstrained by obligations and ambition.

Calla had no such restraints and soon was ready to take the controls of the craft herself. Jared stood on the shore, watching to be sure she didn’t run into trouble, and wondering why the buxom blonde didn’t move him the way her friend did.

In all his travels, he’d learned some bits of truth. Don’t grab live stone crabs without gloves or a high pain threshold. Don’t hang glide with anybody after three cocktails. Don’t trust an African tribal guide who says crocodiles are “babies at heart.”

To that knowledge he’d add that chemistry wasn’t always a definable concept.

Calla was delightful. But Victoria was trapped in her orderly, fluorescent-light world, and he desperately wanted to release her.

“Any chance of getting Victoria on a Jet Ski?” he asked her friend after he tied off the machine and they’d climbed back onto the dock.

Calla’s gaze met his before quickly skittering away. “I don’t see how.”

“She’s here on business, not fun.”

“As always.”

“What kind of men does she date?”

Calla’s steps faltered, as if she hadn’t expected him to be so direct, but she recovered quickly. “Jerks,” she muttered with a shrug.

“Jerks?” he repeated, as if that was music to his ears.

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