The next afternoon, Mac was in his office, mentally calculating the approximate supply costs of a new condominium proposal, but his mind just wasn’t on his work. He gazed at the whitewashed walls of his office, smiling softly at the muted footsteps of one of his brothers overhead in what had once been the hayloft of the old barn. Now it housed the offices of three of his younger brothers. He swung around in his chair to the plate glass window behind him, where he could see the activity of the people he employed.
Yes, the old barn he had bought and rehabbed for his company offices might not be the image most contractors wanted to cultivate, but it suited Mac just fine. Solid and strong, it had withstood the ravages of time and weather. Around here, that was an important factor in building anything.
He swore under his breath as he once again reflected on the events of last night. He didn’t care that Ben hadn’t found any evidence to convict those boys; they were guilty as sin in his estimation. And if they ever did find anything to pin them to the crimes, those boys would be lucky if the whole town didn’t lynch them. Tempers ran high in a town devastated by disaster.
He looked further out and down the hill to see the lazy activity of Main Street. Grafton was nestled between the banks of the Mississippi River and the Piasa Bluffs. It was a quiet village that had been a popular tourist spot complete with antique shops and quaint family restaurants featuring home style food and friendly hospitality. The twenty mile bike trail that meandered through the woods and ran parallel to the Mississippi River was a favorite attraction, as well as the Barge Bar, which boasted rides on a renovated steamboat or a pirate ship.
But all that had changed with what was known now as the Damn Flood. Not as epic as the Great Flood of 1993, which had completely devastated towns all along the Mississippi as the muddy river breached dams and flooded thousands of acres, but it was bad enough two years ago to close down the entire town of Grafton. Flooding and wicked storms had left the community a quagmire of mud, snakes, and mold. Most buildings had been torn down rather than face the exorbitant costs of renovation, but several townspeople were determined to save the old, beautiful limestone homes and businesses, including the Catholic Church. Mac was one of those people, but it was a damn monumental task.
“Mac, Miss Harris is on the line again. Do you want to take it? She’s called every hour since early this morning. She says it’s imperative that she speak with you,” Dottie Hayes intoned through the intercom system. As his secretary and right hand, she was a formidable figure. Even at sixty, the only consolation she made to her age was what she called her sensible shoes. She referred to her gray hair, age spots and wrinkles as proof that she had lived in this life, not just existed in it. She was a lot like his barn, sturdy and dependable. That’s why Mac relied so heavily on her.
“Tell her I’ve left for the day. With any luck, she’ll believe you,” Mac answered wearily.
“Coward,” Dottie replied before she ended the conversation. Of course, she had heard all about the fight at the police station last night. The town may look a little worse for wear but the gossip lines were up and running as usual.
Mac scowled as he picked up his pen and checked the partial list of supplies needed to repair the damage to the most recent vandalization on the house near Otter Creek, but his thoughts once again turned to Dixie Harris.
He remembered how angry and embarrassed she had looked when their eyes had met as she left the building. After he had calmed down, he realized that her speech had been sincere. But although she felt badly about the vandalization, she was equally determined to see her brother’s name cleared. He couldn’t blame her. It was hard enough being young and new in a small town without adding scandal to your name.
He could see the headlines of the local paper already – NEW TEACHER’S BROTHER LINKED TO VANDALISM OF LOCAL CONSTRUCTION COMPANY HOMES. He also knew the gossips over at Kate’s Café would have a field day. The incident last night was already being picked apart and embellished until very little of the real truth remained.
He grimaced as he took a swallow of the cold coffee sitting nearby. “Just put her and her petite but perfect body in the back of your mind,” he mumbled under his breath. But how in hell was he supposed to do that when she kept calling him every hour? No doubt trying to plead on her brother’s behalf. Well, no amount of begging or pleading was going to change his mind. No matter how appealing the thought - and Mac acknowledged that the thought, indeed, held definite appeal.
He could just see her standing in his office, her lovely shape poured into some short, tight, red dress that was silhouetted against the setting sun outside his windows; her blue eyes awash with tears as she begged him not to press charges against her brother. Her shiny blonde hair would be down around her shoulders with a lock curved invitingly on the tops of her breasts. She would glide around the desk, thrusting her breasts out as she sidled closer to him, all the while stating she would do anything, ANYTHING, he asked if would let her brother go. She would go down on her knees between his legs, moistening her lips with her tongue as she glided her hands up his thighs to his….
The thundering of a lumber truck pulling out of the lot broke through Mac’s dream, causing him to splash the rest of his coffee down the front of his shirt. “Enough!” He slapped a palm on his desk. You don’t need to complicate the situation with thoughts of sex. At thirty five, you don’t need the frigging daydreams. There are plenty of women around here just waiting for you to point your finger and they’d come running. You don’t need Dixie, spitting fire, Harris. She hates you for trying to nail her brother for the vandalism. She wouldn’t give you the time of day, much less anything else!
And with that lecture firmly in mind and his raging hormones once again under control, he adjusted himself, and turned all thoughts of Dixie Harris and office seductions from his brain. Picking up the supplies list, he got down to work as the sun began its slow descent toward dusk.
*****
Dixie tapped her fingers against the wheel. All day wasted trying to talk to that obstinate man and she was no closer to communicating with him than she had been this morning. “Well, Grandpa Harris always said that if the mountain won’t go to Mohammed, Mohammed can go to the mountain,” she mumbled to herself as she pulled her white Jeep into the parking lot of the Coalson Construction Company. Gazing at the fresh brick-red paint on the barn, she contemplated the man she was determined to see sometime today. After all, her family’s good name and her brother’s reputation depended on it.
Well, the man was definitely a mountain. All of six feet and then some, she surmised. ‘Course being only five foot nothin’ herself, almost everyone seemed large. Still, he was a handsome man with all that black wavy hair and shining eyes. She’d be lying to herself if she didn’t admit that. Too bad he didn’t smile more often, but it was highly unlikely the Devil smiled unless he had garnered another soul.
It was the gall of the man that made her gnash her teeth in frustration. She knew a brush off when she heard one. “Refuses to take my call, eh? Too busy to be bothered? In a meeting?” she mimicked the litany of excuses that his secretary had given to try and appease her. Hopping out of the Jeep onto the pavement, she brushed a wisp of silver blonde hair away from her eyes with an impatient gesture. She hardly noticed the cold wind biting into her cheeks. She was so fired up with temper she’d forgotten her coat.
Dixie managed to content herself with waiting until the last excuse had come. Totally infuriated, she had grabbed her car keys and raced to the construction company office. She intended to prove that Mac Coalson was a liar and a coward, and the proof was sitting directly in front of her as she crossed the parking lot. The large black GMC truck with the Coalson Construction Company logo and address sat there. The license plate proudly proclaimed that this particular truck belonged to the “CCC BOSS”. Mac Coalson was not “gone for the day” as his secretary, who Dixie nicknamed “the old dragon” in one of her more furious moments, had claimed. “Well, just look out Mr. Mackenzie Coalson because whether you like it or not, here I come!”
With that promise reinforcing her determination, she stuck out her chin, took a fortifying breath and marched across the sidewalk, squinting against the late afternoon sun. She yanked at the heavy oak door, and the force of the cold March wind combined with the weight of the door nearly knocked her off her feet, but she was on a mission and hardly gave pause as she stormed through the office lobby and down the hall toward the door marked “MAC COALSON-PRESIDENT”. She quickly sidestepped a startled employee, sailed right past the “old dragon” before she could grab her, opened the door and slammed straight into the “mountain” himself!
Mac had just stepped up to the door with some revisions for Dottie when it was flung open and a sweet-smelling bundle of femininity launched herself right into his arms. He instinctively dropped his papers and wrapped his arms around an impossibly small waist. Closing his eyes, he inhaled her fragrance, willing his mind to memorize the feel of the woman in his arms. He knew immediately who he held, and his entire body reacted to her softness.
After a few seconds, he tightened his grip and opened his eyes, knowing who he would see. She was already struggling against him which only intensified his arousal. Dixie Harris was staring at him like he was the big, bad wolf. Maybe he was. He certainly felt like ravishing her. One minute he was fantasizing about the seduction of this particular woman, and the next thing he knew, she was wrapped around him like she belonged there. The moment was worthy of an episode of “Twilight Zone”.
He couldn’t help but grin as his eyes traveled over her expressive face. Her sweet mouth was opening and closing like a fish out of water, and her pretty face was beet red. He could feel her chest heaving against him through her simple sweater dress as she frantically tried to break his hold and pull out of his embrace. He looked down and sure enough, he could see the rounded beauty of her breasts with just a hint of pale pink lace from her bra. He hardened even more. Reluctantly, he loosened his grip and allowed her to step away from him.
“Oh, m’gosh. I’m so sorry.” Dixie was totally flustered. All her righteous indignation flew out the window to be replaced by complete mortification. How on earth was she supposed to continue now? She stepped back, to give herself some room to breathe; the man seemed to suck all the oxygen from the room, but quickly stepped back to brush the few wrinkles she had made from his gray suit jacket. Good manners came before righteous indignation in her mind.
She looked up suddenly and caught his grin. Her nervousness increased along with her anger, and, much to her annoyance, she began to babble. “I, um, I just wanted desperately to talk to you and since you wouldn’t answer my calls, well, I’m afraid my temper got the best of me, and I, well, I just reacted, that’s all. Grandpa Harris always did say I had the Devil’s own temper and I guess he got the right of it. Oh dear, let me help you with these papers.”
She bent to gather the notes, talking all the while, “You see none of this would have happened if you had just answered my phone calls like a polite person would have done, but I guess that can’t be helped now, can it? Still, I think you should at least allow me to explain why I’m here, and then we can put all this unpleasantness behind us.” She flashed him a weak smile that faded as she noticed that his eyes were focused on her bottom while she was trying to talk some sense into him. Anger warred with her embarrassment, and with shaking hands, she thrust the papers at him, almost dropping them again in her effort not to make contact. “Here”.
Mac made a quick grab at them, accidentally brushing his knuckles across her right breast. She gasped and jumped back, only to stumble on her high heels. Mac managed to save her further injury by grabbing her arm to steady her.
“Let me go!” She wrestled from his grasp, embarrassment making her voice sharp.
“Honey, you should be thanking me instead of yelling at me. I saved you from falling on your delightful little fanny.” His silver eyes twinkled as he pinned her with his gaze.
Dixie’s anger returned full force. “Just what century are you from, Mr. Coalson? Or are the women around her so shallow and lacking in self-esteem that they feel your particularly insulting brand of charm is cute? I assure you I don’t. Now I would like to get down to business if you don’t mind.”
She secured her purse around her like a shield as she finished her tirade. There, that should put the chauvinistic pig in his place. Just because his picture was in the dictionary under tall, dark and handsome was no reason for his insulting behavior. Feeling rather smug, she was surprised to notice that Mac Coalson’s broad shoulders were shaking and his head was in his hands. Was he crying? Good grief! What next?
“Look,” she sighed, “I didn’t mean to upset you …”
Dixie’s apology was abruptly cut off as booming laughter echoed off the walls and Mac raised his head. He was laughing at her!
Mac hadn’t understood half of what she had been saying, she was talking too fast, sometimes mumbling under her breath, but he loved the sound of her voice. That soft southern drawl of hers had quite a twang when she got going, and he thought it was charming. Hell, he thought she was charming as she tried to dust him off, pick up his papers, and reprimand him on his lack of manners all at the same time. But the coup de grace was that she sincerely believed he had been wounded by her little feminist speech. Miss Harris was turning out to be quite a surprise.
Whack! “How dare you laugh at me!” Her voice sounded hoarse but the stinging in his cheek was what left him speechless. The little hellcat had hit him!
Dixie felt like a fool. Her and her damn temper. She had actually hit the man; hauled off and smacked him in the face. And now she didn’t know what to do. She knew she was staring, but she couldn’t stop. He was looking at her with those fabulous eyes widened in shock. They suddenly narrowed, and he reminded her of a panther at watch over its prey, content that there would be no escape.
Her common sense - or maybe her instinct for survival - kicked in and told her to get out while the getting was good. The door was still open. She took a step toward it. Even as that thought occurred, he slammed it shut, cutting off her only escape. She continued to stare at him, frantically thinking of something to calm him down.
Mac took a step toward her and she backed away. She hated that she showed her fear, but retreat was best, her mind told her. “I’m sorry,” she stammered as she continued to walk backwards, and he continued to match her step for step. “But you shouldn’t be lookin’ where you ain’t got any business lookin’. And I was trying to be nice, and then you laughed at me. And I only did what any self-respecting woman would do, and …WOULD YOU PLEASE STOP?” she shouted as she backed up to a chair and tried to ward him off with her hands. He was within inches of her and coming closer. She knew he wasn’t stopping. “Okay, fine! I’m not sorry, so there!” she shouted defiantly, crossing her arms like a ten year old in a fit.
Mac threw back his head and laughed, the sound once again booming off the walls. “You remind me of a kitten I once had. Always spitting fire and clawing at me when I tried to pick her up, but after a few soft strokes, she began to purr.”
Was that a sexual innuendo? Dixie wasn’t sure. She’d had limited, as in no experience with men. He rattled her brain that was for sure. He started walking around the desk, still chuckling, motioning for her to sit in the chair with one hand while he wiped the tears of laughter from his eyes with the other. This man confused the living daylights out of her. He laughed when he should be angry and growled when offered compassion.
“Now, Dixie, perhaps we can start over. I’m sorry I didn’t get back to you, but I’m extremely busy, and I assumed you were just going to try to get the charges against your brother dropped. It’s not happening.”
Dixie heard his harsh words but refused to be intimidated. She had seen him laugh just a second ago. Granted, he was laughing at her, but she knew the hard man before her had some redeeming qualities. He was trying to save his town, after all.
She took a deep breath. “If you will just listen to me, this mess can be cleared up.” She swallowed hard as his mouth tightened and he rolled his eyes, but he motioned for her to continue.
“Jamie was telling the truth about the man. He explained to me that this guy came up to them at the gas station and asked if they would like to make a few bucks playing a joke on a friend. He told them he just wanted them to go on the property and leave this envelope for his friend to find. He had bet his friend that he could get past the security measures because his friend was bragging about how tight security was now with the vandals and all. Jamie didn’t want any part of it at first, but then, well, the other boys insinuated that he was chicken. You know how young men are, very proud of their manliness, or whatever.” She rolled her eyes and flipped her hand in the air to show just what she thought of such idiocy.
“Anyway, they accepted the job, and the man gave them directions on how to get to the houses. They were just supposed to climb the fences and leave these envelopes taped to the doors. Then they were to meet the guy back near the old church on Baker Road, and he would pay them. The boys had just arrived at the first house when the police grabbed them and took them to jail. Sheriff Yates has the envelopes; he said there was nothing in them. By the time Jamie was released and we went to look for the man, he was gone.”
Mac leaned forward in his chair and pinned her with his angry gaze. His deep voice took on a deadly edge. “You’re telling me you went out on Baker Road in the middle of the night to find some sleazy man who tried to get your brother to take the rap for his mischief?” His voice boomed across the desk as he stood and walked toward her.
“All the homes on Baker Road have been condemned by the government because of the flood. If you had gotten into trouble, there would have been no one there to save you.” He came to rest directly in front of her. Grabbing her by the arms, he hauled her to her feet and gave her a little shake. “Good God woman, you need a keeper!”
“Well, you don’t own the world and I’m not your possession, so you don’t have to worry about me!” she snapped crossly as she swatted at his hands. “And if you don’t let go of me, I’m going to show you how resourceful I can be.” Her first impression had been correct. He was incredibly chauvinistic!
His eyes darkened ominously. “While that might prove interesting, perhaps another time. Besides, you’re absolutely right. If you want to meet total strangers in the middle of the night on a deserted road, that’s entirely your business. Please accept my apology,” he drawled mercilessly as he let her go. She slid back down into the chair, wondering what she had said to set him off this time. And how could he make her actions seemed so tawdry?
She knew as soon as she had pulled up to the abandoned house that night it was a mistake, and she was profoundly grateful that no one had been there. But still, it rankled that this man made her feel so incompetent and naïve. Not to mention small. Very, very small.
Dixie watched as he took off his jacket and threw it on a nearby sofa. He leaned his gorgeous body against the desk and folded his arms across his chest regarding her silently. He was one large man! She stared at the muscular tanned forearms visible from the rolled up the sleeves of his blue Oxford shirt. Her eyes traveled across the broad chest noting the crisp dark hair barely visible near his throat.
He moved his hand and she started, aware that she was staring. Quickly, she lowered her eyes down to her lap, but not before noting the muscular thighs so close to her chair. She chanced to peek at him to see if he had noticed her rudeness, her mouth going dry as he passed his hand across his face in a weary gesture. Those hands! They were the hands of a lover. Long, tanned fingers, callused palms, rough yet gentle in their exploration of her body. Good gracious, where had that thought come from?
“Well?”
Dixie felt heat crawl up her face. “Well, what?”
“Are you going to continue in your defense of your brother or not? I’ve got work to do,” he growled.
Dixie frowned at his curt tone. “Oh yes.” She wracked her brain trying to remember where she left off, thankful that he had obviously not noticed her preoccupation with his body.
“As I was saying, I understand your need for answers, but Jamie isn’t guilty. He knows what he did was wrong, and he’s more than willing to make amends, if you would give him a chance. He’s a hard worker, and I promise he would be on time. And you do need someone to clean up the mess the real vandals have done, and you can’t take your employees off their jobs, so it would be an ideal situation for everyone concerned, don’t you think?” She stopped to let her suggestion sink in.
“YOU WANT ME TO GIVE YOUR BROTHER A JOB?!” Mac shouted, disbelief tightening his face.
Dixie jumped at the volume in his voice. He looked as mad as a hornet. She sighed. This was not going at all well. “You don’t have to sound like I asked for your soul, Mr. Coalson. I’m offering you a solution. Listen, from the information I have gathered, it could very well be someone inside your company. Jamie and his friends are the only people to at least get a glimpse of the man responsible for all this mess. If Jamie was working for you, he might be able to pinpoint your man.”
“That only applies if your brother and his friends are innocent. You still haven’t convinced me that they aren’t the ones behind the vandalism,” Mac growled.
Dixie controlled the urge to throttle the stubborn man. He didn’t appear to be listening to a word she said. He knew she couldn’t prove her brother’s innocence; if she could have, she would have finished this by now. And the fact that her heart was beating as fast as a hummingbird’s wings wasn’t helping her to concentrate on the matter at hand. He was too sexy, looking at her with those bedroom eyes. And why did he keep staring at her dress? It was downright distracting.
Dixie decided he’d had enough time to get used to the idea. She opened her mouth to plead her case but he forestalled her by walking over to his window and staring at the view below. “Your idea does have some merit. Your brother may have been prepared to do the actual vandalism, but someone had to have access to the model homes without drawing notice. They’ve been locked up since the vandalism started. And the most logical conclusion is that it is someone here at my company.” He turned back to her.
Dixie hurried to lower her eyes, afraid he had caught her looking at his magnificent butt. Really, it was just perfect. With a small sigh, she acknowledged his grim look with understanding. After meeting him last night, she understood his need for answers. And to think the vandal was someone he employed, someone that he trusted, was a hard pill to swallow.
“Although letting your brother near my company is probably ludicrous, I’m willing to take that chance. To be perfectly frank, if your brother’s not the culprit, I’m grasping at straws,” he mumbled as he gave her a shuttered look that sent shivers up her spine.
Here, at last was the noble man she’d heard so much about. “I know,” she said quietly. “And I’m sorry I got so angry with you at the police station last night. It was just my nature to protect my brother. But after I had a chance to calm down, I tried to look at it from your point of view. It must be terribly frustrating to keep hitting a dead-end.”
“I can think of a lot of things more frustrating at the moment.”
Oh boy! He was back to looking at her with those bedroom eyes. “Uhm, well, thank you for reconsidering. I know you won’t be disappointed.” She stood up.
“I’m sure I won’t,” he murmured, then smiled slightly as she stuck out her hand to close the deal.
Dixie stared at him. This man was lethal to a woman’s equilibrium. His dazzling smile, coupled with those silver eyes threatened to melt her bones. It was so disconcerting, having his attention completely focused on her, looking at her as if he wanted to memorize every feature of her face.
Dixie smiled back, but her smile slowly faltered as Mac grabbed her hand, and drew her into his arms. Dixie didn’t know what to do. She was pretty sure this was not proper business protocol. Alarm bells were going off in her head, but heaven help her, she didn’t want to move. Since meeting this man last night, her mind had conjured up all sorts of ideas about his hands; fantasizing about how it would feel to be held in his strong arms-absolutely wonderful. To have his fingers lightly touched her cheek… With a jolt of awareness, Dixie realized she was almost purring. His lips were coming closer. He was most definitely going to kiss her. Her knees began to shake at the mere thought of it. The phrase “Devil’s playmate” floated across her jumbled mind as he bent his head, blocking out the light.
At the first touch of her sweet lips, Mac’s mind and body rocked with desire. Never before had such an innocent kiss robbed him of his self-control. But she was so warm and sweet; she even tasted like bubblegum. He almost laughed out loud, but it would’ve meant breaking the exquisite contact. He wasn’t about to do that. Not when he had her exactly where he wanted her. Well, not exactly, he amended in his mind. He wanted her naked and writhing underneath him, but this was neither the time nor the place. Although the door did have a lock….
Dixie reluctantly pulled away and touched her lips. “Why did you do that?”
“Because I felt like it,” Mac smiled softly as he traced her swollen lips with his finger. He’d bet she was a virgin, given the inexperience in her kiss, and the thought made him even harder.
“Do you always do what you feel like doing?” she retorted as she stepped away, looking at him with wary eyes.
Mac studied her as she fussed with the strand of hair that had come loose from her bun. It was disturbing to know that less than twenty minutes ago, he had been infuriated with her, and her callous disregard for her safety. Now he wanted her back in this arms, kissing her senseless again…and maybe even more. He wanted her badly. But he wanted her warm and willing; not frightened or offended.
Of course, she was a beautiful woman, and that excused his behavior. It was a perfectly normal reaction to a beautiful woman.
Liar.
He drew her within his embrace once more. “Most of the time I do.”
He watched the blush suffuse her face then her dimples appeared. “You’re teasing me, aren’t you?”
“No, baby. I think you’re teasing me.” His mouth quickly descended once more. Mac forced himself to move slowly, gently trying to coax her response. It was futile. He needed more. He lifted her up against his body for more intimate contact, because she was simply too scrumptious to resist. His tongue swept inside for another taste of her sweetness. He judged the few steps to his desk, sitting her down on the hard surface without breaking contact.
Mac groaned when Dixie grabbed his shoulders, another rush of desire making him even harder. He forced himself between her legs. Her limbs wrapped around him like it was the most natural response in the world.
His hands slowly moved down to cup her bottom. He felt her tense. She grabbed his hand and returned it to her waist, never breaking the kiss. Mac smiled against her mouth at her attempt to keep things from getting out of hand. Yes, indeed, his Dixie was full of surprises. His? Had he really just thought that?
Dixie started trying to get closer as she tangled her hands in his hair. Mac lost his control. Rubbing against her, he deepened the kiss, his tongue mimicking their love play. All the while, he kept chanting in his head that she was just a woman. A sexy as hellfire, woman. But just a woman.
Liar, liar, pants on fire…
A discreet knock on the door had them breaking apart. The door opened to admit Mac’s younger brother, Chance. Mac frowned at the look of astonishment on Chance’s face. While it was true his mind was on business most of the time and his use for women was quick and mutually satisfying, he wasn’t so uptight that he wouldn’t take a woman on his desk if the mood struck him. What the hell was Chance’s problem?
Chance walked in, sitting the nearest chair. He brushed an imaginary piece of lint from his shirt and grinned. “Aren’t you gonna introduce me?”
“Chance this is Dixie. Dixie, Chance. Now get out.”
Chance laughed but didn’t budge an inch. Dixie, however, blushed furiously and scrambled to extricate herself from Mac’s embrace. Mac eased her down his body to the floor. She acknowledged the introduction with an embarrassed smile.
“You’re the new school teacher?” Chance inquired with a lifted brow.
“Uhm, yes,” Dixie mumbled. If it was possible, Mac thought she would’ve gone up in flames of embarrassment. “Excuse me.” She grabbed her purse and headed for the door.
“Don’t leave on my account, sugar,” Chance sang out.
“You know, y’all really should stop that bad habit of calling women derogatory names. You never know when a woman is gonna