Date with a Single Dad: Millionaire Dad's SOS / Proud Rancher, Precious Bundle / Millionaire Dad: Wife Needed

She kept hush-hush the best parts of herself; the truth about the number of women at the Valley Women’s Shelter she’d secretly helped over the years. That way nobody knew the real her. Not her family. Not even her friends.

For years she’d thought she had the best of both worlds—public affection and private fulfilment. But Zach’s words made her wish someone knew. They made her wish he knew. The urge to just blurt it all out then and there was a powerful thing.

But then what? He was too perceptive. He’d wonder why she needed to spend time with battered women and displaced children in particular, and why she’d even hidden the fact in the first place.

Nah. Better to keep things as they were. Best not to discover people might only be attracted to the light, bright, amusing, easily palatable version of herself. Zach included. She wasn’t sure she was prepared to know the answer to that one.

Realising the silence was stretching on far too long, she forced a dazzling party-girl smile and said, ‘So you are what you eat?’

His cheek lifted. ‘In not so many words.’

‘By that logic if I go home right now and marinate myself in chocolate and red wine, then at the very least I’ll die tasty.’

He laughed softly, before saying, ‘You can’t argue with logic.’

Meg’s breath caught in her throat. He’d just had to go and use the last words she’d said to him before they’d kissed, hadn’t he? Her heart beat double time. She breathed deep to control it before she keeled over.

Perhaps he hadn’t realised what he’d said, because he just turned and followed the group. Or perhaps the kiss hadn’t affected him nearly as much as it had affected her.

Good, she thought. Fantastic even. Fan-bloody-tastic.

Now they were descending again. Single file. Meg was caught behind Zach, so naturally while she ought to have been watching her feet she watched him instead. The spring of curls against his tanned neck. The athletic ease with which he strode the trail.

Surely he’d felt something when they’d kissed. She’d felt magic.

When her foot half missed a stepping stone, she stumbled and caught hold of his backpack for support.

‘You okay back there?’ he asked, snapping a hand behind him to cradle her hip.

She closed her eyes against the flow of feeling rushing through her that felt more tangible and immediate than mere magic. ‘Mostly.’

‘Take my shoulders.’

‘Why?’ she asked.

He glanced up at her, his dark eyes shadowed beneath his cap. And she was certain his voice dropped a note or two when he said, ‘Because it only gets riskier from here.’

‘I’ll be fine,’ she said, her voice husky.

‘Meg—’

‘I’m not completely inept, you know. I may not know which direction I’m heading, but I can put one foot in front of the other without falling flat on my face.’ Most of the time. ‘I can do this on my own.’

Ignoring her outburst, Zach simply took her by the waist and physically lifted her and placed her to the left of the path so that those behind her could get past.

Once they were alone with their group bundling down the descent in front of them, Zach said, ‘Relax, Meg. I’m not offering you anything more than a hand down the mountain.’

Meg swallowed, the lack of saliva making her throat scratch so she winced. His dark eyes slid down her face to rest on her lips. His grip tightened. Infinitesimally. And she felt in his touch the same confusion of want and restraint surging through her body.

Triumph coursed through her. He’d felt every bit of enchantment in that kiss that she had.

Triumph fast turned to confusion. What was she meant to do with the knowledge that helping her down the hill wasn’t all he wanted to give her any more than that was all she wanted from him?

In the quiet that followed Meg realised the group had moved far enough away that birdsong came back to the forest. The water in the stream they had crossed bubbled melodiously about the fall of rocks unable to completely block its path.

They were to all intents and purposes alone. Anything could happen. Like having photos of ‘Meg Kelly and friend’ getting up to no good being splashed all over the Internet within hours. For that he’d never forgive her.

She took his hands from her and pressed them back to his sides. ‘Thanks for the offer, but I just slipped a little on some moss. I’ll pay more attention to where I put my feet.’

His eyes finally, thankfully, skimmed from her mouth back to her eyes and his hands moved to grip the straps of his backpack. ‘Just be careful, for my sake. I don’t need you slipping and breaking a bone.’

‘God, no. The press would be all over this place like a rash. Which is, of course, the last thing we want.’

‘We want?’

‘Yes, we. As in we agree that it’s Ruby who’s front and foremost in our minds when we happen upon one another.’

Ruby who should be reason enough we never happen upon one another again.

After one final dark glance he nodded, then turned and headed down the ragged path.

‘Keep up,’ he called without turning, ‘before we have to send out a search party for you again.’

‘A search party? Please,’ she called back as she walked unsteadily down the trail.

Had he just said ‘again’?

Five long, hot minutes later, the descent evened out and the path became made up of wide, neat steps carved into layers of grey rock.

The group spread out, walking in clumps. The scurrying, flapping, whistling noises of the forest had been overtaken by the nearby sound of rushing water. The overgrown forest cleared to reveal a vertical slant of wet rock that was so high Meg had to crane her neck to see the sliver of sunlight above.

‘Hold onto the handrails, step carefully, and prepare yourselves for something fabulous!’ the guide called out.

Meg followed Zach into a gap in the rock. And darkness. And sudden dank coolness. The sweat covering her whole body brought her skin up in goose bumps.

Bit by bit, step by slow step, Meg’s eyes became used to the gloom. Up ahead, through the bobbing heads of her fellow hikers, there was light. Eerie, green light.

Then suddenly she stepped onto the edge of a high-domed cave. At her feet lapped a pool of bright green water clear enough to see the floor was made of a tumble of smooth stones of all shapes and sizes. Above, through a gap way up high in the ceiling, a stunning, glowing, white sheet of water splashed magnificently into the deep centre of the pool. It was literally one of the most beautiful things she’d ever seen.

‘I give you Juniper Falls,’ Zach said from somewhere to her right.

Meg couldn’t think of a thing to say back. She just let it wash over her—the noise, the colour, the primal violence and beauty of it all.

‘Worth the early start?’ Zach asked some time later.

‘And then some,’ she said, drawing her eyes away from the spectacle to give him a quick smile.

A couple of nearby camera flashes went off. She took a step away from him, her eyes instantly scanning the crowd for the offender. But everyone was ogling the waterfall, not their blurry shapes in the semi-darkness.

‘Photos don’t do it justice,’ he said. ‘Just look, listen, absorb, get your fill. You won’t forget. This moment will be with you for ever.’

While Zach kept his gaze dead ahead, and despite the splendour raging in front of her, Meg’s remained locked on him.

As though he knew just what she was taking her fill of, he turned to look at her. His brows came together and his right cheek creased into a sexy arch, questioning her. She shook her head, shrugged. What could she possibly say?

His eyes left hers to rove slowly over her face as though he too was taking the chance to memorise every centimetre.

He was right—it was a moment she knew she would never forget.

The group spread out, some continuing around the other side of the pool, others finding patches of sunshine so they could sit and relax. A few game souls took off their shoes and waded into the shallows.

‘Coming?’ he asked, holding out a hand.

‘How about you point the way to the best spot, then you can get back to work?’

His eyes narrowed, then he looked about and saw the camera flashes for what they potentially were. He took a slow step away from her. And even though she’d been the one to encourage the move, her heart clenched just a little in her chest.

He curled his hand back to his side as he pulled his old hat farther down over his eyes. Then he gave her a long, straight look. ‘As it turns out I have a little time to spare for my guests if you’d care to follow me.’

She swallowed and nodded. Then followed him to a large, mostly dry rock on which sunshine dappled through the ferns above. Meg settled herself onto it with a thankful sigh.

‘Is the water warm?’ she asked.

He stood, towering over her. ‘See for yourself.’

When she leant over and whisked her hand through the clear water the illusion firmed. It was warm enough to swim in, but cool enough to soothe her hot hands.

Zach filled his flask with water, then his tanned throat worked hard as he chugged it down. When Zach saw her eyeing his drink bottle with her tongue practically hanging out of her mouth he handed it to her.

Her lips hovered where his lips had been. She imagined she could smell chocolate muffins. She closed her eyes, all but groaning as the blissfully cool liquid slid down her scorching throat.

Zach’s voice was loud enough for those nearest to hear when he went all ‘tour guide’ on her and said, ‘The pool is fed by the falls and the overflow creates an underwater spring to the south, which feeds into a stream that heads off into the national park. With the constant pummelling, the floor at the centre of the pool is the softest sand you’ll ever feel.’

She put the lid back on his flask and handed it to him, their fingers sliding past one another as they exchanged the bottle from her hot hand to his.

‘So you’ve swum here?’ she asked, looking back out into the pool, tucking her shaking hand tight into her lap.

‘Once or twice.’

‘I can’t imagine when you’d find the time. What with running a trillion businesses and looking after you know who.’

She felt him draw back. She’d been discreet. But it hadn’t mattered. The withdrawal of all that lovely warmth stung.

And shocked her sensible. Even though they were both on the same side in wanting to protect his daughter, while it was her wish, it was his mission in life.

She slung her backpack onto the rock between them, the most substantial wall she could mount on short notice, then said, ‘I’m sorry. I won’t bring that subject up again.’

His voice was low and intimate when he said, ‘Meg, I wanted to—’

She flapped a hand between them. ‘It’s fine. I understand.’

‘No, I don’t think you do,’ he said. ‘I wanted to tell you … She made me pancakes.’

Meg’s eyes slid to his, envy and delight spilling through her in tandem. ‘She did? When?’

‘This morning. Before she went back to school.’

‘Jeez, she’s an early riser. Like father like daughter, I guess.’

He glanced at her with an expression she’d never seen on him before. As if he’d thought the same, but couldn’t be convinced that it wasn’t just wishful thinking. It got to her, like an arrow straight to the heart.

‘Were they any good?’ she asked, her voice reed-thin. ‘The pancakes.’

‘Atrocious.’ He laughed softly.

‘But you ate them all,’ she said, knowing the answer before she even asked the question.

He nodded once. ‘I certainly did.’

The arrow in her heart stabbed a little deeper.

She tried to imagine her own father eating pancakes she’d made. Unless they’d been fit for the table of literal kings he would have taken one look and fed them to the dogs. And he would somehow have made sure she knew it too.

She swallowed down the heady mix of new good and old bad feelings rising far too quickly inside her.

‘She asked after you, you know,’ Zach said, glancing away from her to stare out at some vague spot in the distance.

Meg raised her eyes to the roof of the cave to hold back the encroaching sting. If he knew what was good for him, the guy should really stop talking. Now.

She knew what was good for her and still asked, ‘What did she say?’

‘Young girls need their mystery. Or so I’ve been told.’

‘Hey now,’ she laughed, taking a quick moment to brush a finger under her eyes, ‘that’s not fair. I was being nice giving you all that secret girls’ business insight, and now you’re using it against me.’

‘Fair enough,’ he said, ‘then I will tell you that it was something you said to her yesterday that had her heading off to school today like she had the wind at her heels. So thank you for that too.’

Wow. She’d done that? She gave him a nod. It was either that or croak out, You’re welcome.

‘Mr Jones,’ a woman’s voice with a lilting foreign accent said from between them.

Meg flinched and dragged herself out of the cloud of intimacy that had wrapped itself around them like a slow, thick, enshrouding fog shifting across the pool.

She turned to find a stunning redhead, her hair neat as a pin, her Juniper Falls uniform pressed, not a lick of sweat anywhere. Meg ran a quick hand over her fuzzy plaits and so wished she hadn’t. It would have been better not to know.

‘Claudia,’ Zach said, his voice so cool and aloof Meg was surprised to remember when he’d last used that tone of voice with her. ‘What can I do for you?’

‘Sorry to interrupt, but the St Barts group had a few questions about the morning they wanted to run by you while we had a moment’s respite.’

‘Of course. Claudia, this is Meg, a guest at the resort. Meg, Claudia will be my St Barts manager,’ he explained.

‘St Barts? You lucky duck,’ Meg said with the instant return of her practised smile. ‘And thank you, Zach, for taking the time to explain how the waterfall works. It was most informative.’

Claudia gave her a short smile, then headed off to join the St Barts crew.

Zach looked across at her with a kind of smile she was having more and more trouble resisting. ‘Most informative?’

‘Well,’ she said, ‘it was.’

Zach stood, yet he lingered.

‘Go,’ she said, shooing him away. ‘Please. I’m not going to fall into the pool and drown and cause you endless hassles. I promise.’

His brow furrowed, then he said, ‘No, that’s not … I was going to ask if I’ll see you tonight.’

‘Tonight?’ Her heart beat so hard in her throat she was certain it must have been obvious to everyone in sight.

‘You are coming to the luau, are you not?’

‘The what?’

‘There’s a clearing at the west corner of the lake on which we’ve created a beach. The staff put on a controlled bonfire there once a week. Have you even read the brochure?’

‘I glanced at it. Briefly.’ Trying to find chocolate, trying to find the Wellness Building. Both times she’d only found more of him. ‘Look, I’m not sure what our plans are for tonight—’

‘The St Barts team will be there tonight so I was thinking about putting in an appearance. For their sake,’ he said. Adding, ‘There’ll be marshmallows.’

She couldn’t help herself. She licked her lips.

And he laughed. Throaty, loud laughter that resonated through her bones as though her marrow were a twanged guitar string.

‘Real marshmallows?’ she asked, her voice comically low, amazed at the cool she could still find within herself when she needed it most. Thank heavens for her years of training. ‘Or soy-based, gluten-free, sugar-free sticky balls?’

‘Real marshmallows. Bags and bags of them. Pink and white. Sticks supplied if you’re a toaster.’

‘Sure I’m a toaster. You?’

‘All the way. But just in case you need something to keep you going until then …’ He tossed her a small package wrapped in the ubiquitous Juniper Falls pale green. He tipped his cap at her, then bounded across the rocks to join the St Barts crew.

Meg tore it open to find herself holding a small packet of M&Ms. She laughed out loud, then pressed her finger to her mouth before her fellow hikers discovered her laughing to herself and realised they ought to have been paying more heed to the frizzy brunette in their midst.

CHAPTER EIGHT

ZACH stood on a corner of the lake’s beach not lit by the blazing fire, feet bare as the day he was born, dressed top to toe in linen he’d ironed himself, and a hot pink lei someone he didn’t recognise had thrown over his head.

‘You’re a fool,’ he muttered to himself for about the seventh time in the past ten minutes. ‘You and Ruby might have had a good morning because of something she said, and maybe you can’t get that kiss out of your mind, but by poking your head out of your perfectly adequate cave again and again just to get another glimpse makes you a damn fool.’

His hands gripped the lei, crushing the flowers, but before he had the chance to whip it over his neck the sound of female laughter split the night.

Glitter twinkled in the darkness. Three distinct voices wafted towards him, followed by three female forms. The other two must have been her friends. All he saw was Meg.

Her dark hair had been pulled back into a slick ponytail. Huge hooped earrings hung from her ears to her shoulders, encrusted with more diamond dust than most women would ever own. But it was the dress that had him clenching his fingers into his palms.

Fire-engine red it was, made of some sparkly material that clung to her torso like second skin, cinching tight at her waist then billowing all the way to her ankles. Her shoulders were bare, her décolletage on display within a deep V, and around the middle she was tied up with a big red bow.

Never had he been given a gift quite like that. He’d obviously kept the wrong friends.

She leaned in as a staff member explained the ‘no shoes on the beach policy’ for the luau, and without hesitation she rested her elbow on someone’s shoulder, hitched her voluminous skirt as high as her knee and proceeded to uncurl a good metre of red leather strap wound about her calf.

Zach closed his eyes and prayed for mercy.

When he opened them it was to see Meg, barefoot, bouncing onto the sand with the exuberance of a puppy. Mid-twirl he got a load of the back of the dress—she was completely bare from a small clip at the back of her neck all the way to her waist. It wasn’t quite low enough to give him a glimpse of the tattoo he knew was there, but low enough he ran a hand hard over his mouth.

He knew what it was about her that had him tempting fate. For the past twenty years he’d spent every waking minute dedicated to turning himself from a kid with nothing into a ruthless businessman. For the past several months he’d had to completely strip away that part of himself in order to pour all of his energy into becoming a father.

Meg Kelly simply let him feel like a man.

It was energising. It was addictive. It could so easily prove to be his undoing.

Look at her, he said to himself. The diamonds, the flashy friends, the artless va-va-voom. She revels in the flash and flare of public life. And look at you, hiding in the shadows.

In allowing this infatuation to continue he was setting himself up to lose too much—he’d certainly lose Meg, and there was every real possibility he might yet lose Ruby. As for the fact that he could look in the mirror and see a guy who’d learnt from the alienation of his past? Gone.

Convinced beyond a shadow of a doubt leaving was the right thing to do, he took one step in that direction when a local reggae band on the other side of the fire struck up their steel drums with a little ‘How Deep Is Your Love’ Bee Gees action.

His eyes searched for Meg’s. She looked up and clapped, radiating pure joy as he’d known she would when he’d put in the request with the entertainment director.

Her gaze began flicking back and forth across the crowd and he knew too that she was looking for him. Instead of sliding deeper into the shadows where he belonged, his feet held firm until her eyes found his.

She smiled with her whole body—ravishing red lips, sparkling blue eyes, the happy shrug of her creamy shoulders. A deeply felt attraction slid through him like slow, hot lava. God, it felt good—like gut instinct, abandon and release. Feelings he’d never allowed himself to come close to feeling for another person his whole adult life.

She made a beeline his way, her friends following in her shimmering wake.

‘Zach,’ she said on a release of breath when she was close enough he could see the firelight flickering in her eyes.

‘Good evening, ladies,’ Zach said, purposely including all three. ‘Don’t you all look beautiful this evening?’

One gave Meg a small shove forward. ‘Don’t we just.’

Meg glared at her friend, while Zach pretended not to notice.

‘Ready for a big night?’ he asked.

‘I heard rumours of a marshmallow roast,’ said the brunette. Tabitha.

‘Bring ‘em on,’ said the blonde, her voice wry.

The hairs on the back of Zach’s neck twitched under the blonde’s incisive gaze. That one was the journo. At the very least she knew that something was happening between her friend and him. She who probably kept a lipstick camera and microchip microphone on her person at all times.

Meg slapped her friend on the arm, which he approved of heartily. ‘Don’t pay any attention to Rylie. She doesn’t understand that sweets belong to their own food group the way some of us do.’

When her eyes slid back to him, she let them flick to her friends and with a small shake of her head told him not to worry. He was safe. Ruby was safe.

Then a small smile hooked at the corner of her mouth. Thanks for the M&M’s, her eyes said.

He blinked back, My pleasure.

‘Are they actually serving drinks from coconut shells?’ Tabitha asked, then she was off.

Rylie, on the other hand, had her hand clamped over Meg’s arm as if they’d been soldered together.

Meg blinked at him, her mouth curving in apology. The St Barts crew were a hopeless cover. She knew he was there for her. And while she’d made it perfectly clear to him on more than one occasion that she understood why they should remain miles apart for Ruby’s sake, she’d come. The both of them needed their heads read.

‘I like the choice in music,’ Meg said over her shoulder as Rylie pulled her away. ‘Yours?’

‘Disco,’ he said. ‘It’s my secret passion.’

She grinned. It lit up the night. And then she was gone.

Zach slid his hands into the pockets of his trousers. He’d put in his promised appearance, meaning he could walk away. Ruby wasn’t home so he could slink back to his bungalow and work himself late into the night till his eyes burned and his back ached and he was too exhausted to think about anything but sleep.

He could do that, but instead he decided to stay a little longer. Listen to some Bee Gees. Drink some punch. Eat a marshmallow or two. See where the night took him.

Damn fool.

Meg sat on a straw mat next to Rylie, drinking a mocktail and pretending to watch Tabitha lead a conga line around the fire, but whenever she had half a chance her eyes sought out Zach.

The moment she’d first seen him standing with the fire at his back, feet bare, watching her with the kind of intensity that took her breath away, her skin had warmed as though she’d stepped too near the flames. Even wreathed in hot-pink flowers he was the most wholly masculine creature she’d ever known.

Dark hair slicked back, clean-shaven, and wearing a pale grey linen suit, he finally appeared how he should have all along—like the kind of man her father would know by name.

That first moment when she’d been allowed to dream he might be something he was not hadn’t been fair. If she’d first seen him looking like this then maybe she would have had her guard up and have avoided this whole mess from the outset.