No Ring Required

Not looking for any more trouble today, Ethan gunned the engine of his sports car and took off back to his self-made world.

Mondays were usually Mary’s best day. She was well rested, coffeed-up and excited to get back to work. Today, however, she felt as though a semi had been driving back and forth over her body all night long. She felt jittery and exhausted at the same time—a wicked combination.

As she walked into the office, her hand shook a little around the double espresso she carried. The first person she saw was Olivia. The startlingly pretty brunette was sitting at the receptionist’s desk—something she liked to do before Meg, the receptionist, got there at nine. “Hey there, Miss Kelley,” she said in a chipper voice. “You’re here early.”

“And I’m not the only one.”

“I have some phone calls to return. I wanted to get to them early.” Olivia’s eyes narrowed as she stared hard at Mary. “Did you get any sleep last night?”

Mary sighed, placed her plastic coffee cup on the reception desk. “I think somewhere between four and six I dozed off.”

“Work…or—” Olivia hesitated, bit her full bottom lip “—something else?”

For a moment Mary contemplated blowing Olivia’s mind with the entire story of Ethan Curtis and her. She just wanted to unburden herself with a girlfriend for a few minutes, emotionally puke and have Olivia figuratively hold her hair back. But for good or bad, the partners of NRR just didn’t go there with each other—though Mary wondered if any of them wanted to but were afraid to ruffle the feathers of their business.

“I was working late,” Mary said at last. “The captain is very demanding.”

Olivia laughed at that, her dark eyes filled with mirth. “He seems like a semidecent guy, despite the millions and the bawdy reputation.”

“He is, actually. Did I tell you he’s donating all the proceeds from the regatta gala to charity?”

“Would it be uncharitable of me to say that he should?”

It was Mary’s turn to laugh, though the sound felt a little forced. “Ivan’s all right. Not much going on upstairs, though.”

“What a shocker,” Olivia said sarcastically. “Inherited wealth?”

“Yes.”

Olivia rolled her eyes as she stood up and headed into the kitchen. “Do you want something to eat? I made blueberry muffins, and, not to toot my own horn or anything, but both attorneys offices downstairs came up to ask where that amazing scent was coming from.”

Mary’s stomach rolled rudely at the thought of food and she headed toward her office. “Maybe later.”

“Okay. Oh, hey, Mary?”

“Yeah.”

“Mr. Curtis called.”

Mary felt a tremor of nervous energy move through her, and suddenly she felt unable to breathe. She hadn’t spoken to him since Saturday, since her breakdown in the parking lot.

She poked her head out of her office and gave Olivia a weak smile. “Let me guess. He no longer requires my services.”

Wielding a saucepan in one hand and an egg in the other, Olivia looked perplexed. “No. Actually, he asked if you could come by his house today at four-thirty.”

“What?” There was no way she had heard Olivia correctly.

“Four-thirty,” Olivia repeated. “His house.”

“Oh. Okay.” Well, sure. Why should he make the trip to her office to can her when he could do it in person? Her heart pounded so hard in her chest the movement actually hurt.

“Is he an inheritance jerk, too, Mary?”

Mary shook her head. “No, self-made all the way.”

Olivia nodded. “I thought so. He always sounds down-to-earth when he calls. That’s pretty refreshing.”

Mary went back into her office on unsteady legs and dropped into the chair behind her desk. She had to be ready to hear whatever he had to say. There was no doubt he was going to fire her, but what if he wanted to tell her that he was bringing her father back up on charges?

The queasy, dizzy, anxiety-ridden feeling she’d been having since yesterday came back full force, and she put her head down on her desk. Her eyes remained open, and even in the semidarkness of her self-made tent, Mary saw what she’d collapsed upon. The plans for Ethan’s nursery—a nursery she hadn’t even begun. With a groan she pushed the plans off her desk and into the trash can.

Ethan’s housekeeper, Sybil, who Mary had only seen twice before—right before the staff and caterers arrived for a party—answered the door with a vexed expression. “Hello, Ms. Kelley.”

“How are you, Sybil?”

The woman released a weighty breath. “Mr. Curtis is in the game room. Let me show you the way.”

“Game room?” Mary repeated, following behind the housekeeper. She’d been in Ethan’s house several times and she’d never seen a game room.

Glancing over her shoulder, Sybil rolled her eyes. “It’s where he goes when he’s brooding.”

Brooding? Mary tried not to register the shock she felt. First of all, she couldn’t imagine Ethan showing anyone his emotions—it just wasn’t his style. And second of all, did he know that the woman he paid to run his household talked about him this way? She’d bet not.

They passed the dining room and library, then rounded a curve into a hallway that Mary had never ventured down, or even remembered seeing. When they came to a door, Sybil knocked once, then said to Mary, “Here we are.”

“Should I just go in?” Mary asked when she heard no answer.

Sybil nodded. “He’s expecting you.”

After the woman walked away, Mary gripped the knob and pushed the door open. For a good thirty seconds after entering the large room, Mary thought she’d just stepped into kid’s fantasyland, Chucky Cheese. But since she didn’t smell pizza or see a large, furry gray animal with whiskers, she knew she must be in Ethan’s game room.

The room was a perfect square, with one wall devoted to windows that faced the backyard and lake. It was as if the room was meant to have a screen or drape down the center as a divider, as the right side was completely devoted to every arcade game imaginable. Being a fan of arcades from way back, Mary recognized skeet ball right away and smiled wistfully. There was also basketball, air hockey, pound the squirrel, racecar games and many more she saw but wasn’t familiar with. Then there was the left side of the room, which couldn’t have been more different. It was an office, with a very modern desk and furnishings in charcoal gray and chrome, and in the middle of it sat Ethan, reading the newspaper.

She had an urge to turn around and leave before he saw her, but instead she walked into the room and parked herself beside the foosball table. “Quite a setup you got here.”

Still hidden behind the New York Times, Ethan muttered a terse, “These are all the things I couldn’t afford when I was a kid. I wanted to have them now.”

Mary Kelley was no genius, but she sure understood his meaning: he’d had nothing growing up and was hoping to give this to his child. The child he’d thought was coming. The child he’d blackmailed a woman into creating with him.

She got it, and she felt Sybil’s pain, and she, too, rolled her eyes. Why couldn’t he have been in his library beside the bar drinking like any normal pissed-off male?

She fiddled with the handles on the foosball table. “Do you play?”

“I rarely play games,” he said, still masked by the Times.

Neither did she, and she was having quite enough of this one. “Listen, you wanted to see me.”

“Yeah.” The paper came down with a snap, and Mary saw his face for the first time since they’d stood outside the doctor’s office and she’d told him the truth. As he stood and walked over to her, he looked like a determined, really angry devil, his black hair slightly spiky and his blue eyes fierce with a need to hurt. He stood close, stared into her eyes and said in a punishing voice, “I have never felt such disgust with anyone in my life.”

It was a strange thing—in that moment, spurred on by those words, Mary’s nerves suddenly lifted and she was no longer afraid of what he was going to do about her and her father. The only thing she felt in the moment was the need to strike back. “I know that feeling. I had it about a month ago. But we were standing in your office, not your playroom.”

His eyes blazed. “What you did was beyond low.”

“You’re right.”

“And you have nothing to say.”

“Just this. Need I remind you that you basically forced me into—”

“I never forced you to do anything,” he interrupted darkly. “It was your choice—”

“Choice?” she repeated. Was he kidding? “What choice did I have? Tell me that?”

“You could have walked away.”

“And left my dad to…what? Go to jail. Never.” She glared at him. “But you don’t understand that kind of devotion, do you? You’ve never loved anyone that much—so damn much that you’d make a great sacrifice for them.”

His gaze slipped to her belly.

She shook her head, not about to pity him. “No, Mr. Curtis. That wasn’t a sacrifice. That was a need to be met, a blue-blooded medal to hang around your neck to make you finally feel worthy.” His nostrils flared, and he looked dangerously close to exploding, but Mary wouldn’t back down. “At least the child would’ve belonged to the old-money club, right? And maybe you, too, by association? No, it doesn’t work that way.” She was yelling now, frustrated at him, at herself. “They don’t care about association, they only care about blood. Can you get that through your thick skull?”

When she stopped ranting, they both stood there, face-to-face, breathing heavily. His eyes had lost some of their heat and she wondered if she’d finally gotten through to him. But he didn’t answer her, not that she expected him to. He had too much pride. Instead, he did as all highly successful business persons do—he went for the jugular.

“You’re wondering if I’m going to file charges against your father now, aren’t you?” he said evenly, his tone cool.

Mary wasn’t about to deny it. “Of course.”

“I’m not.”

Shock slammed into her and she actually stuttered. “Wh-why?”

With a casual shrug, he left her and wandered over to the air hockey table where he picked up a paddle and examined it. “I’ve decided to close that chapter.”

Mary couldn’t contain her relief. Her father didn’t have to worry about court or jail ever again. She wasn’t about to thank Ethan, but she could feel the tension drain from her body and she sagged against the foosball table.

“But I do want something from you.”

Ethan’s words sent a shock of alarm through her tired limbs. “What?”

“Mackinac Island.”

Oh, no. The trip to the beautiful Michigan island. She was supposed to have planned a party there, served as hostess, but how could that ever happen now? “You want me to recommend someone to take my place, right?” she asked hopefully.

“No.”

“You can’t be seriously considering—”

He slammed the paddle down and glared at her. “Believe me when I say I would rather bring a python with me on this trip. But your reputation has preceeded you, and I need that party to go off without a problem.”

No way. She couldn’t. There was too much between them. She shook her head. “No.”

“You owe me.”

“I owe you nothing,” she assured him, straightening up, forcing her legs to hold her weight and not buckle.

His voice dropped and his lips thinned dangerously. “Don’t think I wouldn’t reconsider opening that paternal book again if I have to.”

She shook her head, knowing she was cornered. “You’re really good at blackmail.”

He lifted one sardonic eyebrow. “I’ll protect my business any way I have to.”

“Clearly.”

“Just as you would, Mary. Mine is administrative business and yours would be personal business.”

The idea that they were in any way alike made Mary’s blood jump in her veins, but she knew when her choices were few. “This will be our final business endeavor together.”

He nodded. “After the last guest has left my party, Ms. Kelley, you and I can pretend that we’ve never met each other. How’s that?”

“Perfect.”

Eight

The airport was packed, but Mary maneuvered her way through the crowds with the fierce determination of a woman going to war. According to the itinerary Ethan’s secretary had sent over yesterday morning, the plan was to fly to Chicago, then to Pellston Airport in Michigan, then take a cab to the Mackinac Island ferry. After their declarations of mutual disgust for each other, Mary was more than a little shocked that she and Ethan would be traveling together. She could’ve easily caught her own flight and met him at the hotel, but he’d insisted they make the trip together.

After checking in and making it through security without a body search, Mary headed over to the gate to wait for Ethan. She winced as she slid her carryon bag off her shoulder and onto one of the hard plastic chairs.

The captain’s regatta gala had been successful yesterday, raising a huge amount of money for the Cancer Research Institute, but Mary had forgotten to apply a liberal coat of sunscreen and had managed to give herself quite a sunburn in the process. And the painful moments just kept coming as she spotted Ethan walking toward her, looking anything but the stuffy business traveler in a long-sleeved white shirt and jeans, his large frame and hawklike gaze sending people out of his way without a word from him.

“Ms. Kelley.”

Her body instantly betrayed her, her insides jumping with awareness at the sound of his voice. “Mr. Curtis.”

“You look well,” he said, barely glancing at her striped polo shirt and white cropped jeans.

“Ah…thanks,” she muttered with a touch of sarcasm.

Ignoring her tone, Ethan handed her a large envelope. “I’ve taken the liberty of providing a dossier on the potential clients we’re going to see. Their likes, dislikes, food preferences and hobbies.”

“Great.” Mary couldn’t help but notice all the wistful stares Ethan was getting from women walking past. No wonder he could be so arrogant.

“As far as staff to hire for the party goes,” he continued brusquely, “I have the name of the best—”

“I’ve already been in touch with several staff-for-hire agencies on the island,” Mary informed him proudly. “I know who I’m going to hire and have already spoken to most of the staff.”

The only sign that Ethan might be impressed by her actions was the slight lift of his brows. “You’re nothing if not on top of matters, are you?”

Mary couldn’t tell if his words were meant as a backhanded compliment or sexual innuendo, but she flashed him a defiant glance regardless. “I’m good at what I do, how about that?”

“Make-believe,” he muttered.

“Excuse me?”

“A wife-for-hire agency, Mary?” he stated, as if that said it all. “What is that but pretending to be someone else?”

Mary was silent for a moment, her ire moderated by observation. “You know, I think there’s hope for you yet, Curtis.”

“I guess it’s my turn to say, excuse me?”

“If you can recognize the phony in me, you’ll be able to see it in yourself soon enough.”

Before Ethan could even react to her words, a woman approached them with a plastered-on smile. “Mr. Curtis, you may board now if you wish. The first-class cabin is ready.”

“Thank you.”

Ready to follow him, Mary shouldered her bag. “Should I go with you or are we boarding separately?”

A slow grin touched Ethan’s mouth, and he nodded at her boarding pass. “Better check your seat assignment first.”

Confused, Mary looked down at the ticket in her hand. When she looked back up, Ethan was already on his way toward the gate. How lovely, she mused. While he got pampered with warm towels and chocolate chip cookies in first class, she was going to share a bathroom with forty other passengers in coach.

“What’s wrong with your neck?” Ethan asked her once they were aboard the ferry and headed for Mackinac Island.

“It’s nothing,” she grumbled.

“Nothing my ass,” he countered as they walked the length of the deck and back again. “You’re moving like a robot.”

Ethan was just full of compliments, and she felt like socking him. “It’s just a pulled muscle. No big deal.”

“You can’t meet clients like that.”

“It’ll pass, okay? Relax.”

“How did it happen?”

The wind off the water whipped Mary’s hair around her neck as she tried to pick up her pace and shake off the stiffness in her limbs. “Do you really care? Why don’t you go inside and have a cup of coffee or a bourbon or something and let me work out these kinks myself.”

“I care, okay?” he said dryly. “What the hell happened on the flight?”

She sighed, stopped in her tracks and faced him. “A very large man decided to take a nap on my shoulder, and no amount of pushing and prodding and poking would wake him up. I was stuck in this insanely awkward position for two hours. I wonder if they have a chiropractor on the island.”

Ethan stared at her.

“What?” she asked.

“You poked someone?”

She sighed with heavy patience. “It was just with the eraser end of a pencil.” But, oh, how she had wanted to do so much more. “Little good it did. It only made him snore harder. And don’t even get me started with the lady on my right.”

“Did you poke her, too?”

“No, but I thought about it.” Mary pressed a hand to her lower back and stretched out her spine a little.

“Wanted to tell you her life story?”

“No. But that would’ve been okay, life story I could’ve handled. I can work up a good conversation with a stranger.” Her memory of the woman was pretty fresh and a wave of nausea hit her full-on. “No, this was a lack-of-deodorant thing.”

Amusement played behind his eyes. “I’m not going to feel sorry for you.”

“Who asked you to?” she returned playfully, using every ounce of will to make herself start walking again.

“You belonged in coach.”

She gave him a mock bow. “I know that, Mr. Curtis. I’m an employee, and I’m cool with that. In work and in life I know who I am and where I belong, and I fully accept it.” She couldn’t help herself, the words just fell out. “Unlike other people.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked as they reached the railing.

Only wanting to make a quick dig, not have a full-on fight, Mary glanced over the edge to the choppy sea below and tried to deflect. “Look at that water.”

Ethan wasn’t having any of it. Not that she expected him to. “Don’t go all female on me, Mary.”

Mary considered. “I don’t think that was as much female as it was passive-aggressive.”

“Whatever it was, just say what you’ve got to say,” he said impatiently.

She exhaled and turned to face him. “This is just a thought, but maybe if you’d stop trying to be something you’re not, you could actually enjoy your success. Maybe you wouldn’t have to resort to blackmailing people into doing what you want. They might come willingly.”

He grinned then, his gaze moving lazily over her. “If I remember correctly you came very willingly.”

“Don’t be crude.”

He shrugged, looking like a bad little boy. “I was talking about coming to work for me. But I like where your dirty mind goes, Ms. Kelley.”

“If you remember correctly, working for you was something I fought tooth and nail.”

“I remember you giving in pretty quickly, actually, as though you wanted to be as close to me as I wanted to be to you.”

Were they always going to end up here? Mary wondered. Bantering back and forth, both wanting to out-smart and outplay the other. And to what end…? It was only a few more days. “All I’m saying is that if you’d accept who you are and where you came from maybe you could be happy.”

“Who says I want to be happy?”

“Everyone’s looking for happiness, in some form or another.”

“Not me.”

She ignored him. “The problem is you’re going about it the wrong way.”

He gave his back to the water and lounged against the railing. “And you know the way to true happiness, Mary?”

No, but…“I’m trying. I’m sure as hell trying.” She cocked her head to the left to look at the island as it came into view and felt a searing pain in her neck. She groaned.

Ethan cursed softly. “You can hardly turn your head.”

“I’m fine. Nothing that a hot shower and a massage won’t cure.”

He touched her shoulder. “You know, I’d offer to help you with both of those forms of physical therapy, but—”

“But you pretty much hate me right now,” she answered, trying to ignore the heat from his hand.

“Nope, that logic doesn’t matter so much for a guy.”

She tried to look shocked, but laughter quickly bubbled in her throat. “Okay, so what is it, then? You can’t help me take a shower because I can’t stand you?”

He considered this for about two seconds. “Ah…no. A guy can get past that sad fact, too.”

She laughed again.

His voice lowered to a sexy timbre. “And you don’t hate me, Mary.”

His arrogance and unflinching confidence could be a real pain in the ass sometimes, especially when his assumptions were right on target. “Well, so what is it, then? Don’t tell me you won’t assist my shower time out of some misplaced sense of duty.”

“No.” He faced the coming island and looked pensive. “I’m just afraid it might make me happy, and as I said, I’m not looking for that.”

The Birches was an authentic 1890s Queen Anne Victorian, and when Mary first stepped inside the entryway, she thought she’d fallen asleep and woken up in a dream—or at the very least a movie. The nine-bedroom, six-bath original Victorian had beautifully restored hardwood floors, luscious paneled ceilings, three fireplaces, extensive property, and from the wraparound porch, a panoramic view of the Straits of Mackinac, Round Island, Mackinac Bridge and the Grand Hotel.

She couldn’t even imagine how much it cost to rent such a place. Harold, the real estate agent Ethan had used for their trip, gestured gleefully around himself. “Here we are, Mr. Curtis. Beautiful home, isn’t it.”

“Nice,” Ethan said unenthusiastically as he checked his Blackberry.

Poor Harold looked so dejected that Mary felt compelled to offer up her best smile. “Well, I think it’s lovely.”

He gave her a grateful look. “It was rumored that Rudolph Valentino and Nita Naldi stayed here at one time.”

“Really?”

“Right after Blood and Sand.”

“Wasn’t Valentino married?”

Harold nodded and said conspiratorially, “To two women, actually. He hadn’t yet divorced the other.”

“I hate silent films,” Ethan muttered, checking his e-mail.

Mary rolled her eyes at Harold. “So, where am I staying?”

Before Harold could even open his mouth, Ethan jumped in with, “I arranged for you to have the house next door.”

“What?” Mary looked from Ethan to Harold and back again. “A whole house? Come on, Curtis. I thought I’d just get a hotel room close by.”

Harold cleared his throat, his neck growing as red as a ripe tomato as he tried to make eye contact with Ethan. “Actually, sir, we had an emergency, and the family staying there had to remain on. But,” he said, brightening, “we have a lovely suite for Ms. Kelley across town at the Mackinac Inn.”

“That will be fine,” Mary said pleasantly, but she could feel Ethan already shaking his head.

“No, it won’t,” he informed her. “We have work to do, and you need to be here. Across town…” he said in a tone that sounded as though she were going to stay somewhere in Paris. “You can’t even get anywhere around here without a horse or a bicycle. It’ll take forever.”

“Sir,” Harold attempted deferentially. “I assure you that on an island so small, transportation is quick and very easy to—”

Ethan ignored him, his gaze hard and fixated on Mary. “You’ll stay with me.”

She was getting awfully tired of Ethan Curtis’s demands. “No way.”

“This house is large enough for ten people,” he said.

“Again. No way.”