Business or Pleasure? (9 page)

Okay, stop thinking about her and play, you idiot.
She was good—possibly better than him, even—but oh-so-easily flustered. And he planned to exploit that fact to the limits of good sportsmanship.

Alec whistled a few random, off-key notes as he replaced his club, shouldered his bag and met up with Daisy at the cart. When he slid behind the wheel, she was smiling ear to ear.

“Counting chickens before they're hatched, are we?” he asked.

“I'm just daydreaming about the B & B I'm going to own soon,” she said as she sat back and crossed her arms, pushing her breasts up high enough to make him forget what he'd been thinking about a moment earlier.

“Don't sign the lease yet, sweetheart,” he said as he tore his gaze away from that distracting sight. “We have seventeen and a half holes to go.” And with that, he pushed the pedal to the floor again just to bug her.

 

Someday, when he had enough perspective to look back on this and laugh, Alec would probably remember that he didn't really start to sweat until they hit the turn after the ninth hole.

They were at the snack bar, grabbing a little fuel before they started the next nine holes and Daisy was just walking back to their table with some fruit and a bottle of water. Her hips swayed unselfconsciously, her smile was sweet, satisfaction shone in her eyes.

That's when he realized he was in trouble. And not just because she was kicking his butt—although she was, quite handily. She was six over par—a very respectable score, no
matter how you sliced it. He, however, was fifteen over par.
Fifteen.
Unless he started channeling Tiger Woods very soon, she'd have to lose a limb to get far enough behind to even this match up.

But he was in bigger trouble than just losing this game, he thought as he watched her take a bite of her apple, then lick a little of its juice off her bottom lip. Good Lord. Such a simple gesture and yet it made him want to throw her over his shoulder like a caveman and take her back to the hotel and lock her up. With him. For about a week.

She smiled at him as she nibbled the apple. “Penny for your thoughts.”

“Not a chance,” he said as he stood and looked up at the sky. “Those clouds don't look good. Let's get going.”

So they started again, but after Daisy put her ball on the eleventh green in one shot, she looked over at him with her cheeks flushed from the wind, her eyes bright with pleasure, her hair doing that damned I-just-woke-up-after-a-night-of-incredible-sex thing and an unexpected and painful twinge contracted right in the center of Alec's chest. Something, he thought as he stared at her, was desperately wrong. And that something was that he actually wanted this woman enough to break his rules.

He pulled out his pitching wedge and stomped off into the boonies to look for his own ball, the one that had strayed into the thick rough with his last shot. And all the while he was thinking, “This is not going to happen.” Because even though he wanted Daisy, it wasn't in the way that Daisy wanted to be wanted, the way she deserved to be wanted. At least, he was pretty sure that was true.

The steely-gray clouds that had been gathering overhead
had cooled the temperature considerably since they'd begun the round, but that didn't keep Alec from burning deep inside. Knowing that he wanted her enough to bend, break and annihilate his permanent rules didn't make any difference because he still didn't have anything to offer her. All he had was a bad track record, a short attention span and a big, bad, unshakable desire to see her naked.

Soon.

Alec was mumbling to himself and checking behind a large, ornery-looking yucca plant a few yards off the course when Daisy called out, “Need some help in there? I can try to find an Indian scout to help out if you want.”

He growled an impolite response he hoped she couldn't hear, but when she appeared by his side a moment later, he could tell that she had. “Sorry,” he said. “Uncalled for.”

She waved a hand. “Three brothers, remember? I've heard it all.” Then she moved away from him and started to look through the heavy foliage for his ball. “You're in pretty deep, huh?”

Am I ever.
“Nothing I can't work out,” he said, searching halfheartedly while he watched her walk around a eucalyptus. His heart twinged again, and the furious beating of it hammered at him relentlessly.

Alec looked up at the sky and the clouds whose intentions were now painted in ominous shades of gray. And even though he didn't believe in much, he believed enough to ask whoever was up there what he'd done to deserve this mess. Then, like a memo from God, a raindrop hit him square in the eye.

Well, that's an answer, he thought as he looked back down—and saw his ball tucked beneath a big, healthy sage.

The rain picked up and began falling in sharp, wet
splats
as he walked over and tried to figure out how in the hell he was going to get his ball back onto the green with one swing. When he finally straightened and prepared to take aim, Daisy called out, “What are you doing?”

“Hopefully,” he said without looking up, “getting this in the hole with one more shot.”

“It's raining,” she said.

“Yep.” Then he pulled back and took a short, chopping swing. The ball lifted, took flight and landed gloriously on the edge of the green.

The rain was really starting to come down when he went to his bag and switched his wedge for a putter. His ball was farther from the cup than hers, so he took his putt and, a moment later, the ball sank into the hole with a satisfying clatter.

“Happy?” she hollered over the relentless
splat, splat
of the rain.

Alec looked over his shoulder and saw her sitting in the driver's seat of the cart. “What are you doing?” he asked.

“I'm going home.” When he didn't say anything, she added, “Alec, it's
raining
.”

“But we're not finished.” He wiped rivulets of water off his face. “We have a bet to settle.”

Daisy smiled and pointed up at the sky. “Let's just call it a draw on account of an Act of God, okay?”

A draw? Alec had never played to a draw. He won or he lost—although, to be honest, he usually won. Anyway, they had to finish this. They'd bet their futures on it. “You can't do that.”

“Sure I can.”

“But you're winning,” he said as he slung his bag over his shoulder and walked toward the cart. Water splashed up with each step he took.

She shrugged. “I don't care if I win.”

“Of course you do.”

She looked at him as if he'd lost his mind. “No, I really don't.
I don't care if I win.
”

“But, Daisy,” he said without bothering to keep the impatience out of his voice. “Winning is what matters.”

“No, Alec,” she said with a look that he was quite sure bordered on pity. “Being happy, having fun, enjoying your life and the people in it. That's what matters.”

In a flash so brief it felt like a part of a dream long forgotten, he saw life the way it could be—love and happiness, fulfillment and peace, family and joy. Then it disappeared and the twinge in his heart squeezed harder. And even though he knew he would never be able to put into words what had happened today, he knew with complete certainty that his life was never going to be the same.

When he'd made the bet, he'd been so sure he'd win, he'd told himself he'd invest in her business even when she came back to work for him. With her working for him and starting a new business, there'd have been some logistics to work out, of course, but he'd been willing. If they declared it a draw, he was sure he'd never see her again after they were done with this project.

He put his clubs in the cart and she smiled a little. “Let's go home and get warm,” she said as she rubbed her arms.

“You go on without me,” he said, feeling strangely hollow. “My cart's in the parking lot.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder as he watched the rain sweep, tsunami-style, across
the smooth grass behind her. “I'll just meet you back at the…” He hesitated, then said, “Back at home.”

She laughed, obviously thinking he was kidding, but she stopped when he said, “No, really. I need the walk.”

She stared at him through the rain, and the expression on her pretty face betrayed everything: curiosity, concern and that certain something that was Daisy's alone—an appealing, unwavering niceness that marked her as the perfect girl next door. “You're serious,” she said finally.

“Very.”
Now go before I change my mind and jump in that cart and take you away somewhere where I can keep you all to myself for as long as you'll let me.
“See you at home,” he said and hit the roof a couple of times with an open palm.

The cool rain needled into Alec's arms and face as he watched Daisy drive slowly away, then he turned up the wholly inadequate collar of his golf shirt and took off toward the clubhouse.

Home.
Daisy had said it first, before he'd sent her away.
Let's go home.
The word haunted him, made him feel like a man stranded in a world where he'd never belonged. Only a word, but it was so intimate it made him shiver.

He slogged down the path, and his wet sneakers made a
schlock-schlock
sound with each step he took. And all the while, like a splinter digging into his mind, Alec wondered just one thing—what would it be like to share a home with Daisy. Share a home. He, who couldn't even commit to a houseplant, for chrissakes.

When you're walking in a freak thunderstorm on the wide-open landscape of a golf course, the minutes pass like hours. That's probably why it seemed like he'd been walking forever when a low hum sounded behind him and began to grow
louder. Perhaps it's a swarm of killer bees, he thought grimly. But when he realized the sound was only the buzzing motor of an approaching golf cart, he shoved his hands in his pockets, put his head down against the rain and kept on walking.

B
efore Daisy had made it halfway back to the clubhouse, it was clear that the storm was going to get a whole lot worse before it got better.

The rain slanted into the cart as she drove down the golf path and peered through the rain-streaked windshield at the darkening gloom ahead. Her sweater was soaked through to her skin, but she knew it was nothing compared to the drenching Alec must be getting right now.

Something twisted inside Daisy when she remembered how he'd looked in the rearview mirror as she'd driven away from him. His dark hair plastered to his head; his white golf shirt sopping wet and clinging to his hard, muscled chest and arms; his frown deep and growing deeper.

She should have insisted that he come with her, she thought. She should have been the cooler head. But when it
had started to rain and he'd been so adamant about continuing their game, she'd simply lost patience with his
über
-competitive, win-at-all-costs attitude. It was a guy thing, she knew, but still, a nice walk in the cool rain ought to make him think twice before he made crazy, unwinnable bets and then refused to stop playing in a monsoon, for crying out loud.

Alec was, bar none, the most competitive person she'd ever met. Now that she thought about it, it was probably that same spirit that made him such a playboy. Hit-and-run conquests, one after another after another. He had no lasting relationships that she knew of—if you didn't count his best friend, Todd—and he seemed to like it that way.

Thank God she hadn't lost the bet. Working with him day in and day out had always been hard, but working with him permanently would have been even harder now that she knew him better…and impossible now that she knew that she was in love with him.

She was in love with Alec Mackenzie. There, she'd said it. Of course, she'd probably been in love all along and just hadn't been able to admit it, but spending so much time with him
sans
bimbos had changed, intensified and complicated everything.

Love,
she thought with a sigh. She had to be the unluckiest girl in the world.

She slowed the cart and made a clumsy U-turn. Even though she knew Alec would never return the sentiment, it would be bad form if she stood by while he caught pneumonia and died, so she completed her turn and headed back to find him.

It didn't take her long. He was the only stubborn, wet, muddy man for miles around.

When she came up alongside him and he turned to look
at her, she had to stifle a laugh. Water dripped from his storm-mussed hair, and one trembling drop hung precariously from the tip of his nose. His clothes were drenched and painted with fresh streaks of mud. His eyes were like blue fire and his mouth tipped down gravely at the corners. He looked like a big, fierce dog who'd been left out in the rain by mistake.

“Ready to swallow your pride?”

“You know me better than that,” he said and kept on walking. Water spattered beneath his feet with each step.

“Alec, I'm not leaving you out here in the rain. I'll just drive alongside you until we get to the parking lot. We'll look ridiculous. You might as well get in.”

He glanced at her and she watched as a raindrop fell from the long lashes that had, in her opinion, been unfairly given to a man. He squeegeed the rain off his face with a swipe of his hand and said, “Thanks, but we're almost there.”

Frustration, hot and fluid, flowed over her and sent her good sense packing. “You know what's wrong with you, Alec?” she said, and was surprised at the rough, bitter edge in her own voice.

“No,” he said on a sigh. “But I'm pretty sure you're going to tell me.”

“You keep everyone at arm's length.”

He shrugged again but kept on walking. “So what?”

“So what?” Daisy asked in exasperation. “So you move from one superficial relationship to the next as fast as you can. Your Rolodex is full of people you don't really know. You spend every Christmas in Hawaii with the flavor of the month.” She tried to stop the gush of words but it was like a
dam had burst. “For God's sake, Alec, you call your mother by her first name! Don't you care about anyone? Were you raised by wolves or something?”

He laughed harshly. “I wish,” he joked, but there was something about his manner that made her wonder how close to the bone she'd just cut.

But she never had a chance to find out because in the next moment, he came around to the driver's side, grabbed the steering wheel and swung his big body inside the cart while it was still moving. She had no choice but to scoot away from his wet but disconcertingly warm body and the press of his leg against hers and let him drive.

“Actually,” he said casually, as if she hadn't just been hijacked, “I can prove that I do care about someone.”

“What are you talking about?” she asked as she slumped down in the seat and folded her arms to ward off the cold.

“While it may be true that I keep most people at arm's length,” he said, draping his arm over the back of the bench seat. “I cared enough about you to make sure you didn't get hurt today.”

Daisy went hot and cold in sharp, uncomfortable waves. He cared about her, he'd said. But what was that about her getting hurt? “Get hurt by what?” she asked, even as she noticed that he was driving right past the pro shop without returning their clubs or the golf cart.

“Troy, of course.”

What did Troy have to do with this? “What are you talking about? And where are you going?” she asked as they whizzed through the parking lot and turned onto the road that led to back down to town.

“Troy's a loser, Daze,” Alec said. “He only wants one
thing from you. So I made sure he was too busy to keep his date with you today.”

Oh, my God.
He couldn't have
paid
Troy to bail out on their date. Even he wouldn't be that asinine, would he? But she forced herself to unclench her jaw and ask, just for the record. “What did you do, Alec?”

“I just arranged for him to have a very lucrative job offered to him this morning.”

It took an awful lot to get Daisy mad—her brothers were experts at it—but Alec had just managed to raise her dormant temper in nothing flat. She counted to ten and struggled to take a big, deep cleansing breath like the eerily serene instructor on her yoga tape had taught her.

“He's not good enough for you,” Alec said before she could finish her breathing.

Of course. He'd already told her he felt responsible for her but hearing it again made her just as mad as it had the first time. If only he'd been able to see her as a woman instead of someone to watch over, maybe they could have…

Stick to the subject at hand, she told herself as he slowed to a stop at a signal. “Like I told you before,” she said calmly. “I have three brothers. I don't need another one.”

He gave her a smoky look that would've curled her toes if they weren't so cold. His blue bedroom eyes were at half-mast, one side of his sensual mouth was lifted up in a sexy smile, his wet hair dipped over his forehead carelessly. Then he leaned over and whispered into her ear, his voice whiskey deep, “Believe me when I tell you that being
brotherly
was the last thing on my mind.”

Then her toes really did curl.

Don't go there,
her slim grasp on sanity warned as he
turned onto their street and the wind blew a fresh sheet of rain violently into the windshield. Whatever his reasons for following her today really were, they were not to be interpreted as anything more than him sticking his nose where it didn't belong out of some misguided sense of duty. What was happening here was that Alec was drenched, dirty and spoiling for a fight. And she was just the girl to give it to him.

“Alec,” she said, “you're the one that spreads yourself as thin as melted butter, using women and throwing them away like dirty Kleenex as fast as you can. That's not Troy. That's
you
.”

A cloud passed over his expression briefly as he steered the cart into the Hotel Margarita's parking lot. Then he gave her a look that had “And your point is?” written all over it, which ratcheted up her ire about a dozen notches.

“Given that you seem to think a satisfying ending to a relationship is to dodge phone calls until they give up,” she continued with undisguised impatience, “you may find this impossible to understand. But I'm an optimist so I'm going to say it anyway. Troy is my friend. A friend, who, I can assure you, is not interested in me in the way you think.”

His laughter came out in a short bark. “Women always say that. You haven't got a clue who's interested in you.”

But I sure know who's not interested, she thought as he cut the engine just outside their room and her anger reached boiling temperature.

“Trust me,” he said, “when I tell you that Troy is interested in you. You just don't see it.” Then he jumped out of the cart and ran through the rain to the relative safety of their front door.

Infuriated, she followed. When they reached the shelter of
the bougainvillea-covered trellis that arched over their entry-way, she said, “I think I'd know, Alec.”

“No, you wouldn't.

“Yes, I would.”

“Wouldn't.”

With a vicious stab, she stuck her key in the door's lock.
“Would.”

She was so engrossed in the argument that she almost jumped out of her skin when Alec, in lieu of a comeback, clamped his hands down on her shoulders and turned her toward him roughly. In the glow of the porch light, his gaze was fiery, evangelical.

“You know why I'm sure you wouldn't see it if someone was attracted to you, Daisy?” He paused, his fingers tightening on her shoulders. “Because you don't even know that I'm about to kiss you.”

The last thing Daisy remembered thinking before thinking became way too much trouble was, “He's absolutely right.”

She never saw it coming, never would have guessed it would happen, and yet Alec was pulling her close and his demanding lips were capturing hers in a hungry kiss that swept away any rational thought with the first, hot thrust of his tongue.

His haste thrilled her, filled her with resolve. This is what she'd waited for, what she'd longed for, what she'd imagined a thousand times when she closed her eyes. And while her fantasies had often kept her warm at night, this moment was infinitely better because it was
real
. So she let everything go and fell into him, giving every bit as much as she was getting.

Years of longing rolled through her as their lips tangled and her soft breasts molded to his hard chest, as her thighs touched his all the way down their muscled length and as her stomach—oh, glory—pushed up against his hips where she found all the evidence she needed that he was, indeed, attracted to her after all.

When she let out an involuntary moan of pure, undiluted desire, he dragged her impossibly closer and deepened their kiss until her back bumped up against the front door with a thump.

“You okay?” he said against her lips as he dropped one hand to fumble with the doorknob.

“Oh, yes,” she breathed and felt him shiver as the door gave way behind her. She pulled back to look at him. “You're cold.”

“Not anymore, I'm not.” And then in one smooth move, he picked her up, stepped inside and kicked the door closed behind them.

The gloom of the storm made the room dim but neither of them made a move toward the light switch. Instead, Daisy wrapped her arms around Alec's neck, slanted her lips against his and boldly used her tongue to gain entry to the place that up until a few days ago, she'd only tasted in her dreams. Then she forgot all about her dreams because he was stroking her tongue with his own, sending her senses into a fabulous, frantic dance.

It wasn't until they reached the doorway that led to their rooms that he paused and drew away from her. “Your place or mine?”

She didn't hesitate. “Anywhere,” she said. “Take me anywhere you want.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Anywhere?”

She nodded, excitement and anticipation pooling in her stomach. “Gentleman's choice,” she said, praying he'd kiss her soon to keep her lips from trembling.

“Oh, I'm no gentleman, sweetheart,” he said, and his voice was husky and low, carrying with it an implication that all but set her on fire. But then, like a dark cloud marring a sunny day, his mood shifted and she saw that the desire in his eyes had been muted by concern. “You can still change your mind, Daze. We don't have to—”

“Shh,” she said, then showed him exactly what was going on in her mind by silencing him with her lips.

“Good answer,” he whispered and, with Daisy still in his arms, he turned right and headed to his bedroom.

He lowered her feet to the floor slowly and as every inch of her slid along every inch of him, he gave her a look so chockful of sinful possibilities that she blushed. Her heart was hammering, loud and riotous, but as soon as her toes touched the floor, she reached out and pulled his hips close. She felt the muscles in his back tense under her touch, and an incredible, shimmering excitement moved through her. He smelled wonderful and familiar, like grass and rain and something that was uniquely Alec, a deeply male scent that she knew could not come from a bottle.

Flushed with desire and longing, Daisy pulled at the bottom of his drenched polo shirt with impatient hands. He went for the hem of her sweater at the same moment but she was faster. After she pulled his shirt free, she let it fall to the floor.

He was flawless, she thought as she reached out to touch him with tentative, inexperienced fingers. A sculpted, muscled masterpiece. He felt electric beneath her exploring
hands, his heart beating a hard, strong staccato against her palms that matched the chaotic rhythm of her own heart almost perfectly. She let her gaze follow the line of dark hair that trailed over his hard, six-pack stomach and disappeared into his waistband, then she let her breath out in one long, appreciative rush.