Spellbound Falls (16 page)

Olivia was finally ready to admit that her little obsession with Mac’s jacket was getting out of hand; not only had she actually stolen it from him yesterday, but here she was freezing her tail off this morning, skulking from tree to tree trying to return the damn thing before he discovered it was missing.

She peeked around the towering pine to squint through the predawn light at cabin ten, deciding she really needed to stop this foolishness before she ended up completely humiliating herself. She couldn’t exactly spend the summer ducking in and out of buildings to avoid Mac, now could she, considering he actually
lived
here.

Why couldn’t the man be short and fat and poor and… effeminate or something? He could at least be obnoxious or loud or a coma-inducing bore.

But, oh no, Maximilian Oceanus was
perfect
; perfectly tall and handsome and unbelievably strong, as well as charming and attentive and apparently richer than God.

Olivia pressed her back against the tree with a snort. He was also a flirt and a tease and so damned self-confident she wanted to smack him.

Why in hell wasn’t he married? How had such a perfect man managed to reach his age without some beautiful, confident, perfect woman scarfing him up?

Olivia gave a silent gasp. Maybe there was an ex–Mrs. Oceanus. Or two or three or half a dozen! Hell, the guy probably changed women like she changed television channels.

Damn. Maybe he wasn’t so perfect after all.

But wait: If Mac was a womanizer, wouldn’t that make him perfect for
her
? Because if she knew right up front there wasn’t going to be any forever and ever, then she couldn’t get her heart broken. She could just sit back—or rather
lie
back—and enjoy herself, and finally end her sexual drought by having an affair with the real thing instead of his stupid jacket.

Olivia peeked around the tree again, scanning the darkened windows of cabin ten and the surrounding area. Deciding the coast was clear, she scurried over to a giant maple and pressed her back against it, crushing his jacket to her pounding heart.

So really, what did she have to lose by having an affair with him?

Well, other than her dignity if she made a complete fool of herself—which sure as hell was possible considering she hadn’t had sex in more than six years.

What if she’d forgotten how? Or worse, what if he flat-out rejected her before she actually found the courage to try?

Olivia stared down at the jacket. Was giving up her fantasy to go after the unknown worth the price she might end up paying? Hell, even if she could remember how to flirt, she’d never been very good at it. To this day she didn’t know how she’d caught Keith’s interest, only that she hadn’t been able to hold it more than a few years, and then likely only because he’d rarely been home.

Olivia clutched her bathrobe closed at the neck against the frosty chill in the air and peeked around the maple. She was putting this stupid jacket in Mac’s truck and leaving it there, and if he continued flirting with her, she… she
would just flirt back, dammit! Because even making a fool of herself had to be better than turning into a dried-up old spinster.

“Please be unlocked,” she prayed as she made a dash for the truck—only to go perfectly still when its lights suddenly flashed and its doors clicked locked. She closed her eyes on a silent curse, so embarrassed she couldn’t move, much less breathe.

“Did you forget something in my truck?” he asked from somewhere behind her.

Apparently she wasn’t the only one skulking around in the dark this morning. “I… your jacket must have fallen into my tote bag,” she said without turning around.

“And you felt compelled to get up before dawn to return it?”

“Well, yeah. I didn’t want you to spend the morning looking for it, or worry that you’d left it in the ice shanty or… or something.”

“I appreciate your concern.”

“You’re welcome.” She reached out to hang the jacket on the truck’s side mirror, only to gasp when he took hold of her shoulders and turned her around. And not only did she stop breathing again but her heart stopped beating.

God, he was big and strong and broad-chested.

“All you need do is ask, Olivia. I promise I will say yes.”

Knowing damn well he wasn’t referring to his jacket, her heart resumed pounding so hard she was afraid he would hear it. And she sure as hell couldn’t lift her gaze to his, knowing his deep, dark eyes would be just as serious as his tone, and so imposing her knees would probably buckle.

And then he’d catch her before she hit the ground, and she would get lost in all that wonderful masculine strength, and… and she would ask.

“I—I can’t. I’m too scared.”

He cupped her face between his strong warm hands and lifted her gaze to his. “You have my word I will be gentle,” he said quietly, lowering his mouth to within inches of hers. “And very careful with you, and… unrushed.”

She didn’t know if he moved or if she did, but suddenly their lips were touching. And once again Olivia found herself standing in a receding wave, her world tilting so far off center she had to drop his jacket and clutch his arms to keep from falling.

She nearly wept at how good it felt to be kissed.

Olivia pressed her mouth to his, needing to make sure this was really happening, that all the controlled strength in this towering mass of testosterone wasn’t merely a fantasy that smelled of the forest and tasted divine.

Because all she had to do was ask, and he’d become real.

She parted her lips to test her courage, surprising herself by not retreating when his tongue gently eased inside. Bolstered by the fact that her knees were still holding up against the riot of sensations sweeping through her, she gave a soft hum of pleasure.

He broke the kiss to rest his forehead against hers. “Ask me, Olivia.”

“I… it’s been over six years, Mac. I’ve forgotten… I don’t know… I’m afraid.”

“You’re not afraid of
me
,” he said, wrapping her up in his big strong arms with a heavy sigh. “We both know it’s going to happen,” he said against her hair, the authority in his voice washing through her like warm, liquid heat. “And I prefer it be sooner than later, as I’m not sure I’ll survive another night like the one I just spent envying my jacket. Ask me, Olivia,” he whispered. “Give me permission to act.”

“I don’t want to disappoint you.”

He tilted her head back and brushed his thumb across her cheek. “You could only do that by not asking.” He canted his head. “Did your husband leave you with a bad taste for lovemaking?”

She tried to push away. “That’s none of your business.”

He held her looking at him. “Yes, it is. If it’s not me you’re afraid of, then it must be something else.”

“What makes you so sure I’m not afraid of you?”

The smile he gave her was so arrogant, the ground beneath her tilted again. “That you spent the last three nights
sleeping with my jacket tells me that whatever you feel toward me, it’s not fear.”

She would have fallen when he suddenly released her if he hadn’t steadied her as he bent down and picked up his jacket. He settled it around her shoulders and pulled it closed across her chest. “Why don’t you keep this for now, and return it to me when you’re ready to replace it with the real thing.” He placed a finger over her lips when she tried to speak. “I only ask that you not wait too long. Though I may be known for my patience, few have dared test its limits.” He used the lapels to pull her toward him even as he leaned down. “And those who did were very sorry.”

He kissed her then, his unbreakable hold on the jacket only accentuating the gentleness of his coaxing lips. And once again Olivia nearly wept at the simple contact, his mouth moving over hers with such tender intensity that her knees finally buckled and she melted into him.

Just ask,
her mind whispered even as her heart pounded in fear.
He promised to say yes. And he said he’d be gentle and…

But if just his kisses made her go weak in the knees, what would his lovemaking do to her? Heaven help her, she’d probably faint dead away and miss the whole thing.

Olivia’s small sound of protest got muffled in his shirt when he broke the kiss and pulled her to him with a growl. “We will stop now, before I forget my noble intentions.”

Thank God one of them still had a firing brain cell.

But then, Mac obviously had more experience at this sort of thing. Hell, she couldn’t even remember what she was doing out here at the crack of dawn, wearing only her bathrobe, being kissed senseless by her
employee
.

She pressed her face to his chest, stifling the urge to giggle. So much for not fraternizing with the help, considering all she wanted to do was rip open his shirt and press her lips to his bare chest.

He set her away, his gaze narrowed in suspicion. And despite knowing her cheeks were blistering red, Olivia somehow managed to give him a smile. She did not, however,
have the courage to address the unholy gleam that suddenly sparked in his eyes. So she gathered his jacket around her, stiffened her spine, and started walking home—doing her damnedest not to let him see how badly her knees were wobbling.

“Olivia.”

Finding that her world was righting itself in direct proportion to her distance from him, she turned and mutely arched a brow.

“I really do prefer that you ask.”

“And if I don’t?”

His eyes all but glowing in the first rays of the rising sun, he gave a deceptively negligent shrug. “I will still be gentle and careful with you, and unrushed.”

He turned away then, leaving her staring at his imposingly broad shoulders as he strode onto his porch and disappeared into his cabin—even as she tried to decide if he had just made her a promise or delivered a threat.

Mac stood in the lodge kitchen scowling down at the note in his hand, half tempted to go after its author so he could rip it into little pieces in front of her, and then let her watch them fall like snowflakes when he tossed them in the air.

About the closest he’d gotten to Olivia in the last four days were these damn notes he kept finding on the table every morning when he and Henry came to breakfast, each one a list of tasks she wanted him to do that day, accompanied by succinctly impersonal instructions. And on the bottom of every note she always politely suggested he should address any questions and concerns he had to John or Eileen.

Even though he didn’t regret his actions the morning he’d caught her trying to return his jacket, Mac knew he should at least feel guilty for sending Olivia into hiding; but in truth, their sunrise encounter had only left him all the more determined to have her. Upon discovering he was likely the first man to kiss her soft, sweet lips in more than six years, Mac’s interest in Olivia had gone from pursuing
a casual affair to an overwhelming need to possess her completely. Especially once he’d done the math and realized her marriage had ended a full two years before her husband’s death.

Though he understood the many reasons women stayed in loveless marriages, particularly when children were involved, Mac was forever in awe of the fortitude and determination that the everyday reality of remaining in them required. The irony being that where most people judged such women as cowardly fools for staying, Mac considered them braver than many battle-hardened warriors he knew.

“Is our list of chores very long this morning?” Henry asked just before cramming a spoonful of cereal in his mouth.

Mac scowled down at the note in his hand. “It appears we’ll be spending today in the stable, getting last year’s hay out of the loft and readying the stalls for the twelve horses that will be arriving in ten days.”