Tycoon's Temptation

She had a moment’s pause. She had no idea what might have transpired between Shane and Wood when she wasn’t around.

Then she thought of those intensely blue eyes that had occupied her dreams the entire night. “Yes. I am sure.”

He eyed her, shook his head and sat back. “Fine. As it happens, I’ve let—”

“Good morning.”

Hadley jumped a little and turned her head. Wood stood behind them. His hair was darkly damp and falling over his forehead as if he’d just showered, and it partially obscured the fresh bandage there. He’d also replaced his bloodstained shirt with a royal blue one she distinctly remembered giving Shane two Christmases earlier. “Good… morning.” Speech was hard when her breath was caught in her throat.

Shane grabbed a large manila envelope and held it toward Wood. “Check the contents and sign the report. Bus leaves for Billings in about thirty minutes. I’ll drive you over.”

“You’re leaving? But what about your car?” She looked from Wood to her brother. She was glad Shane was being more reasonable about holding Wood, but she couldn’t say the same thing at all about the prospect of the man leaving so quickly.

And wasn’t that ridiculous? He was a stranger, just passing through. A victim of her preoccupied driving, for pity’s sake. Of course he wants to get the heck out of Lucius. The silent thought mocked her.

Shane gave the phone a glare when it started ringing. “His car’ll be fixed whether he’s in town or not.”

Wood had upended the envelope over the side of Shane’s desk. A narrow leather wallet. The wad of bills, held by a silver clip engraved with a race car disappeared in the front pocket of his black jeans. Then he flipped open his wallet, looked inside, flipped it closed and pocketed it, as well, before scratching his name across the form Shane had indicated and shrugging into his leather bomber jacket.

And still Shane’s phone rang. “I’ll give him a lift to the bus station,” she offered suddenly. “Better answer that. Carla’s not out front.”

“She called in sick.”

“All the more reason for me to give Mr. Tolliver a ride. It’s the least I can do,” she added hurriedly when Shane shook his head.

“Appreciate it.” Wood picked up her scarf and handed it to her, as if the decision were made.

She didn’t look at her brother as she tucked her fingers into her mittens and preceded Wood out of the cubicle. Behind her, she heard Shane pick up the phone, growling a greeting.

“He’s usually more pleasant in the mornings,” Hadley whispered. She had to curtail the urge to run out of the office before she crumbled to Shane’s displeasure.

Wood reached out and opened the door. The bell jingled softly. “He’s protective of you.”

As soon as they stepped out on the sidewalk, Hadley realized that she didn’t have the means to even give Wood Tolliver a ride to the bus depot. Because her truck was still over at Stu’s garage.

Embarrassed beyond belief, she looked up at him. “He’s had a lot of practice, I’m afraid. Of being protective, I mean. I, um, I forgot one detail.” The fringed ends of her scarf skipped around in the breeze. “My keys are across the street at the garage. And Riva—she kind of manages the place for my brother—won’t be there for another hour at least.” She felt like an utter fool, which was something she ought to be used to, considering she’d been feeling foolish since she’d run him off the road. “I’ll tell Shane he should take you. I can answer his phones while he’s out.” She reached for the door.

Wood closed his hand over hers and she jumped. His eyes narrowed a little and he let go. “Are you afraid of me?”

“No! No, of course not.” She pressed her hands together. She was not so stupid that she’d tell him she’d felt a zing right through the fluffy red mitten when he’d touched her hand. He’d probably laugh right out loud at her. “I’m not afraid of anyone.” Which wasn’t strictly true if she thought about it. “And Lucius isn’t big, but walking all the way out to the bus depot would take too long, so—”

“I don’t want to go to the bus depot. Is there a café around here or something?”

“Yes, of course. But Shane—”

“Doesn’t much like strangers in his town. He made that abundantly clear.” He toyed with the fringe of her scarf that had blown across his sleeve. “The burger your sheriff gave me last night was okay, but I haven’t had a full meal since yesterday morning. I’m starving.”

And she couldn’t seem to draw in a normal breath. “The Luscious Lucius has the best waffles around.”

“Luscious,” he murmured softly. “Interesting name. Any other restaurants?”

“Sure. But Luscious is the best for breakfast. And lunch.”

“And dinner?”

“The Silver Dollar. I know the owner.”

“I’ll bet you know everyone in town.”

“Not quite, but close.” She didn’t know how they’d come to be standing so closely. She could smell the clean scent of soap on him and it was definitely affecting her thought processes. “Sort of comes with my dad being a minister at the largest church in town and my brother being the sheriff.” She swallowed and reached past him, pointing down the street. “Luscious is right over there. See the sign? It’s kind of small.”

He lifted the ends of her scarf and slowly looped them together. “It’s cold out.”

She nodded hesitantly. The truth was, her skin felt as though it was being melted from the inside. “If you miss the bus this morning, there’ll be another one late this afternoon. Tomorrow’s Saturday, though, and there’s only that last run until Monday.”

“I couldn’t care less what the bus schedule is, today or tomorrow.”

“I thought you wanted to leave.”

“Your brother wants me to leave.” His knuckles brushed her jaw as he tucked the soft red knit closely around her neck. “I want breakfast.”

She swallowed. “D-did you steal that car?”

He slowly shook his head. Just once. “I even plan to pay for my waffle.”

She couldn’t help smiling back when his lips tilted. “And you didn’t try to bribe Shane.”

“Your brother doesn’t strike me as a man who can be bought.”

“He isn’t.”

“Glad we’ve got that settled.” He glanced over his shoulder to watch a car creep down Main. It turned and parked in front of the café. “Somebody else going after those waffles, I suppose.” He took a step in that direction, then stopped and looked back at her. He lifted one eyebrow, his intensely blue eyes definitely amused. “Well? You coming or not?”

Chapter Three

She was right. The waffles at the Luscious Lucius Café were better than average.

Or maybe it was the company sitting across the table from him that made the waffles taste better than usual. Dane’s reason for being in Montana had nothing to do with pleasure, but he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Despite her questionable skills behind the wheel, Hadley Golightly was easy on the eyes, humorous and engaging, when she wasn’t busy being self-conscious, and did seem to know everyone in town.

Not a single person entered or left the café without exchanging some friendly greeting with her. He’d been introduced to more people in the past hour than he could have met had he advertised free money. Wood Tolliver had been introduced, anyway.

And Dane figured it was only a matter of time before the sheriff came along, set to hurry him on his way. Once the man had determined that the Shelby hadn’t been reported stolen, he’d had little reason to keep holding “Wood.” But he’d been clear that he wanted to see the back side of Dane, regardless.

It was a new sensation for him. Most people were happy to have Dane Rutherford in their midst. Came with the territory of running Rutherford Industries.

But Dane wasn’t in Montana on business.

This trip had been strictly personal.

Which was why he’d borrowed Wood’s name. Tolliver wasn’t likely to be recognized. Rutherford, however, was as common as Rockefeller.

And a Rutherford asking questions about new faces in town would draw speculation he didn’t need.

He nudged aside his plate and folded his arms on the table, watching Hadley. “You’ve told me all about Lucius. Tell me about you.”

Her eyes were as dark a brown as her hair. And now they widened a little. A hint of pink rode her cheeks, and he knew it was nature that had put it there, not cosmetics. “There’s nothing much to tell.”

“You have one brother who’s the sheriff and one brother who’s the mechanic.”

“Stu also has a ranch. Outside of town.” Her cheeks went a little more pink. “I was leaving there when I—”

“Was driving like a bat outta hell?”

She poked the tines of her fork into her waffle and nodded.

“And Wendell Pierce?”

Her eyes flickered. “What do you know about Wendell?”

“Your brother says you two are involved.”

Her jaw worked. She carefully set down the fork. “I can’t imagine why he’d say that.”

Dane could. Shane-the-sheriff didn’t like the way Dane looked at his kid sister.

He couldn’t really blame the guy for that, he supposed.

“Maybe I misunderstood,” he lied smoothly.

“I doubt it,” she muttered. Her brown gaze skipped around the café. Half the tables and all of the booths were occupied. Then she leaned forward. “They’re trying to marry me off,” she said abruptly. “I mean, do I look that pathetic to you?” She shook her head, and her hair rippled over the turtleneck she wore. It was a pretty, soft yellow. And at least a size too large.

“Never mind,” she hurried onward. “Don’t answer that. My ego can only take so much.”

Her ego should have been plenty healthy. Either the men in Lucius—excluding the apparently interested Wendell—were terminally stupid, or they were blind. And he figured that he’d been better off thinking she was already spoken for in the romance department.

He wasn’t in Montana for romance. Or for good old-fashioned lust, which was definitely a shame, because she certainly inspired that, even with her engulfing sweater.

Hardly a polite topic over breakfast dishes, though, and Dane had been schooled from way back about what was polite and what was not. Seemly behavior versus unseemly.

Not that he’d ever paid those lessons much heed.

“I have a sister,” he said truthfully. “Before she got married a while back I was guilty of derailing a few interested men that I didn’t think were good enough for her.”

“But that’s not what they’re doing.” She lifted her hands. “They’re trying to tie me to the tracks, because they know that nobody besides Wendell is interested.”

He couldn’t help smiling a little, she was so clearly irritated. Telling her that, where he was concerned, her thinking was completely off the mark would only lead to trouble, so he just reached for his mug and finished off his coffee.

She sat back in her chair again and finally set down the fork with which she’d been doing more waving than eating. “The accident was my fault,” she said. “You shouldn’t have to pay for your own damages. I have insurance.” Her expression was earnest. “And Stu may be a pain in my behind, but he’s really a whiz when it comes to fixing cars. He keeps this whole town running, pretty much. And he makes things so beautiful again. Or maybe you want to have your car hauled back to where you live in Indiana?”

He hadn’t spent more than five days straight in Indiana for the past decade, and he could have had an entire team come to Lucius to work on the car he’d picked up on Wood’s behalf if he’d wanted. “A whiz, huh?”

The shining ends of her hair bounced around the barely discernible thrust of her breasts when she nodded. “Honest.”

“Guess I’ll have to look into it, then.”

Her smile lit every portion of her face, including her eyes. Then she looked at her watch. “Oh, drat. I’ve got to go. I’ve been helping my dad out mornings for a few weeks at the church while his secretary is on vacation. If you’re going to be staying in town, let me know. I run Tiff’s. It’s the boardinghouse at the end of Main Street. Can’t miss the place.” She fumbled some cash out of her purse, dropped it on the table and had scurried out the door before he could get a word out.

Dane sat back in his chair once more and eyed her money.

He couldn’t remember the last time he hadn’t been expected to pick up the check, no matter how large or small. And with the women he usually saw, the check had never involved waffles in a quaint café with a western-style front on a quiet street that saw maybe three cars an hour.

The busy waitress—Bethany, according to her hand-printed nametag—came by with the coffee pot, and he slid his mug toward her. She filled it, offered a distracted smile and headed on to the next table. The people at the tables around him discussed everything from the uncommonly cold weather, to politics, to who was apparently sleeping with whom. And they acted as if he had every reason to be included.

Even though he’d spent the night in a jail cell, now he’d been introduced by Hadley Golightly. Apparently that was enough. It also made her glad he hadn’t pulled any strings to get out of jail from the get-go. He was nothing more than a guy passing through.

Eventually Dane finished off the coffee. More in hopes that it would help the throbbing in his head than anything. The morning crowd had thinned and he pocketed Hadley’s cash and paid the full bill himself. Then he walked down to Golightly Garage and Auto Body. The Shelby had been moved from the tow truck and was parked in front of an open bay.

For a moment Dane let himself suck in the stink of tires and grease. It had been a long time.

Too long.

He shook off the thought with regrettably practiced ease and walked forward when the man circling the car with a clipboard in his hand noticed him.

The other man lifted a square palm and settled his Green Bay Packers ball cap a few inches back on his blond head. “You Tolliver?”

Dane nodded. The other man stepped forward, hand extended and they shook. “Stu Golightly.” He gestured at the car with his other hand, which was encased in a ragged cast. “Damn, but this is a pure shame. Guess you met my little sister, Had, eh?”

Hadley had told him over breakfast that Shane and Stu were twins, but aside from their general size—extra large—there was little resemblance. “She tells me you’re a whiz.”

Stu grinned, apparently as friendly as his brother was not. “I am, but I ’spect you’ll have someone you prefer to work on her.”

He did. But that didn’t serve his purposes at all.

He went around and pried open the passenger door wide enough to pull his leather duffel from where it was wedged behind the seat, along with the driver’s license he’d stashed in a tight fold of leather upholstery the day before when the ambulance had arrived. He stuck the license in his pocket and backed out of the car.

“Write up the estimate,” he told the man, “and call me. I assume you know the number at Tiff’s.”

Stu’s friendly expression chilled. Seemed he was more like his brother than Dane had thought. “You’re staying at Tiff’s?”

Dane nodded and walked away before the man could say more. Judging by that expression, Stu would have the repairs done on the Shelby in record time. The guy may have been happy to work on the rare car, but his enthusiasm evidently didn’t extend to the idea of Dane taking a room at his sister’s boardinghouse.

By the time he’d walked the length of Main Street, Dane had a renewed appreciation for warmer climates. Not that it didn’t get cold in Seattle or Louisville, where he had homes. But it was nothing compared to the chip of ice Lucius occupied.

Fortunately, Tiff’s was just as Hadley had described. The Victorian looked perfectly maintained with its curlicues and lace. But it was painted in pink and green, resulting in what was about the most god-awful color combination Dane had ever seen.

He went up the front steps. As long as it was warm inside, he didn’t much care if there were naked ladies painted on the outside. The door was unlocked and he went in, not entirely sure what to expect. He was used to staying in five-star hotels. Not Podunk-town boarding houses.

The door opened directly on to a wide hall with several doorways leading off it. The floor was carpeted in a pale pink as ugly as the exterior paint, and a narrow tapestry carpet runner stretched along the length of it. Looking straight back, beyond the dark-wood staircase tucked against the wall, he could see what was obviously a kitchen.

And the painstaking piano music coming from one of the rooms off the central hall seemed completely in place.

“Hi.” A very pregnant young blonde walked by, an enormous cereal bowl in her hand. “You must be the new guest.”

Why not? He nodded, and the woman pointed up the stairs. “All the way up the stairs. Two flights. Tower room. You’re lucky. You’ll have your own bathroom.” Then she padded, barefoot, out of sight again.

He went up the stairs to the first landing, glanced down the hall at the collection of doors—mostly closed, and went up the second flight. There was only one room at the top and he went inside, closing the door behind him.

There were windows on three sides of the room. All were covered with filmy white curtains, and Dane tugged aside one set to look out on a wide expanse of snow punctuated periodically by winter-nude trees. In the distance he could see the thin, glittering ribbon of a stream backed by a row of evergreens.

He shrugged out of his coat and retrieved his cell phone from his duffel. As soon as he turned it on, it beeped with messages. He ignored them and dialed his sister. She answered after only a few rings.

Dane didn’t waste time. “How is he?”

“Stable for now,” Darby answered.

“Still unconscious?”

“Yes.”

Dane stifled an oath. “Is Felicia there?”

Darby laughed a little at that. “Are you kidding? Our mother doesn’t do hospitals, you know that. Not even for our dad. She’s staying at the house, though.”

“If Roth knew she was staying under his roof, he’d probably have another heart attack,” he said. Once Roth and Felicia Rutherford divorced, they’d never had another kind word to say about the other.

More than twenty years ago, yet neither one of his parents had managed to move on.

He gingerly rubbed the pain in his forehead and turned away from the view.

He was a fine one to judge others about moving on.

“Call me on my cell if anything changes.”

Darby promised to do so and hung up. She’d never have bought it if he’d claimed to be taking a vacation and it had been easy enough to convince her he was in Montana on business. Her interest in Rutherford Industries had always been minimal, and since she now lived in Minnesota with her husband, the five kids he’d come with plus the one they’d had together, that interest had decreased even further.

Only, now Darby was back in Louisville, staying by Roth’s hospital bedside. He knew she didn’t approve of him being absent right now even if she understood it to be business. But it was better if she didn’t know Dane’s real reason.

His sister had been through enough when it came to Dane’s quarry. Alan Michaels had kidnapped and tormented her when she was a child. He had no intention of telling her that the man was at large again. Hell, Roth had suffered a heart attack the same day he’d learned it.

Dane looked around the room. It wasn’t going to win any awards for spacious design, but it had the necessities and was appealing in a comfortable sort of way with its clean, light looks. The bed was wide enough, covered by a quilt that he figured was handmade, and there was a narrow desk and chair beneath the set of windows that overlooked the street.

He ached from head to toe and the bed looked inviting, but he had work to do. So he sat down in the chair and dealt with the phone messages. He called Wood and broke the news about the car. His friend mostly groaned. But since Wood already had three other Shelbys in his collection, he could afford the luxury of being patient for the repairs. Then Dane called Mandy Manning. The message he left on her voice mail was brief.

“I’m in Lucius. Call me.”

* * *

“I’m late, I’m late for a very important date.” The words echoed inside Hadley’s head as she hurried up the steps of Tiff’s. She’d spent an hour longer than she’d intended at the church, and had still had to stop off at the grocery store before going home.

Since sharing a table at Luscious with Wood Tolliver that morning, it’d taken her twice as long to accomplish everything she’d attempted, because her thoughts kept straying into foolish directions.

She’d mangled his car and that was that. She didn’t figure a man would be likely to overlook that particular detail.

She maneuvered the front door open with her two free fingertips, worked a foot inside, followed by her thigh, then hip.

“Here.”

She nearly jumped out of her skin when Wood seemed to appear out of nowhere on the step beside her, his hands easily plucking three of the bulky canvas bags out of her hands.

“Where do you want them?”

“Kitchen,” she said faintly. He was polite enough not to mention her gaping expression, and she was grateful for it.

He pushed open the door the rest of the way for her and waited. She could feel cold air rushing past her and she hurriedly closed her mouth and went inside.

He followed her into the kitchen and set his bags on the counter next to hers. Then she tried not to gape all over again when he tossed his jacket on the counter and—as if he’d been doing it for years—poured himself a mug of coffee. Well, she tried and failed, anyway, and managed to shake her head when he held up the mug, offering it to her first before lifting it to his own lips.

“You look surprised,” he said after a moment. He leaned his hip against the counter and smiled faintly. “Is it me drinking your coffee, or is it just me?”

Her oversize white mugs were eclipsed by his long fingers. His nails were clipped short and neat and she couldn’t imagine there ever being grease or dirt beneath them. He’d also changed out of the borrowed shirt, she noticed, and the gray one he now wore made his blue eyes seem less piercing but no less… arresting.

“I am,” she admitted belatedly. “Surprised you’re here, I mean.” The Lucius grapevine must have had a temporary power outage.

“Should I have gone elsewhere? You’re the one who suggested it.”

She had, in a minor fit of madness even though she’d never believed he would take her up on it. “The Lucius Inn might be more to your liking. They have room service, and satellite television and—”

“Now you’re making me feel unwelcome.”

“No!” Dismayed, her fingers crumpled the canvas bag she’d been unpacking. “I didn’t mean that at all. Of course you’re welcome here. It’s the least I can do. But, I just—”

“Hadley.”

“What?”

He set his mug down and leaned his arms on the

counter until his face was only a foot from hers. “I was kidding.”

She could see those small scars near his eye again. “Oh. Right.”

His mouth kicked up a little on one side and after a moment he straightened again, picking up the mug. “Got a lot of stuff there. Thought you were helping out your dad at his church this morning.”

She swallowed and diligently focused again on unpacking her purchases. “I was. I did. Then I went shopping.” Nothing like stating the obvious, Hadley. Her face felt hot. “I have another guest coming in this afternoon. She actually made the reservation a few weeks ago, which is pretty unusual for me. So I wanted to make it particularly special for her.”

Wood lifted a tissue-wrapped bundle of wild flowers from the smallest bag. “Nice.” He tipped the bundle toward his nose, smelling them. “You buy flowers for all your guests?”

Feeling like the biggest ninny on the planet, she cautiously slipped them out of his hand. “Not for the regulars.” If she were one of her characters that she wrote about, she’d have flirted outrageously with the man and had him falling over himself to win her heart.