Hot Alaska Nights

by Lucy Monroe

  CHAPTER TWO

  Rock wasn't surprised by the buzzing at the gate. He'd been more surprised by the fact the movie suits hadn't come back before now. Besides, he'd been expecting Carey.

  The younger man had called last week to say he was coming for a visit. The fact he hadn't mentioned that the visit included using Rock's land as a film location was beside the point.

  Carey might only own ten percent of it, but Jepsom Acres was still his home and as much as Rock might be tempted to tell his little brother to get lost right now, he wasn't going to. If those movie people were with him, they were fair game though. The video camera at the gate only showed Carey standing beside a large dark SUV. The tinted windows didn't reveal who was driving, or if there were others in the truck.

  Rock pressed the intercom. "Yeah?"

  "You know it's me, Rock." His brother glared up at the camera. "Open the gate."

  "You forget your remote access?"

  "It's in the bottom of my suitcase."

  "Maybe you should dig it out then." Oh, yeah. He was pissed and if Carey didn't realize it, that ought to do it.

  "Rock, I've got people here with me. Stop being a dick and open the gate." Carey's frustration came through the intercom loud and clear.

  Rock bit back a suggestion about what Carey could do with his attitude. He was thirty-two, not twelve. No matter how mad he was at his brother. It was his job to set the example. It always had been, for all the good it had done him.

  He pressed the button to release the gate.

  A minute later, Rock watched from the wraparound porch as the large black rental SUV came to a halt in front of his home. The doors opened and the two suits who had tried to gain entrance to his land before stepped out from the front. Carey climbed out of the back, his hair dyed black, his clothes trendy and his smile nervous as hell.

  Rock rejected his initial instinct to protect his baby brother like he'd been doing his whole life and didn't let any of his own emotions show on his face. No matter what, he was happy to see his brother, but he was pissed too. Both emotions were for private consumption only.

  Unless things got out of hand and then well, the pissed was going to show in a way that wasn't going to make any of these cheechakos comfortable.

  He frowned to himself. The term for newcomers to Alaska fit these people, though tourist might be better. They didn't plan on staying, now did they?

  His muscles tight with tension he would not reveal, Rock leaned with deceptive negligence against the square verandah pillar nearest the top of the steps. He waited in silence for Carey and his posse to come to him.

  Movement on the other side of the SUV caught Rock's gaze, though. The beautiful dark-haired woman stepping down had a face as smooth as porcelain, but eyes the exact shade of his favorite dark chocolate reflected fatigue and worry. Nothing in the perfect oval of her features said she was happy, or wanted to be there.

  Dammit to hell. Carey hadn't just screwed Rock over with this stunt.

  She came around the car, her body moving with elegant grace that made Rock hard just watching. Shock coursed through him at his instant reaction to the woman.

  She wore an open gray sweater over a white top, a gray, white and pink print scarf settled stylishly around her neck and snug pink jeans tucked into brown riding boots. The outfit was not overtly sexual, but on her, it was hot as hell and gave him all sorts of ideas about peeling back her layers.

  Her boot heels weren't as high as the other woman's power stilettos, but the beauty stood at least an inch taller, making her maybe eight to nine inches shorter than Rock's own six-foot-four.

  His favorite height difference for his bed partners.

  He couldn’t even pretend not to know where that thought had come from. Despite his simmering anger, Rock's libido had woken with the first glimpse of her espresso brown hair.

  Well, shit.

  He did not date women in the business.

  Not that sex always meant dating.

  "Rock!" Carey's insistent tone and volume was impossible to ignore.

  Dragging his gaze back to his brother, if not his full attention, Rock asked, "What?"

  "Aren't you going to invite us in?"

  "You don't need an invitation."

  Carey nodded and led his little group up the stairs and past Rock. The middle-aged woman and young man who had been in the far back seats of the SUV followed last.

  Rock didn't hesitate to break in between them and the beauty, walking beside her across the porch and then allowing her inside his home ahead of him.

  He inhaled her scent as she walked by, his dick responding instantly to the subtle musk mixed with a wisp of spring flowers. He had always appreciated a woman who didn't drench herself in perfume, but none had ever caught his senses in a vice like this one.

  He wanted to press her up against the entry wall and bury his nose in that sexy place where a woman's neck met her shoulder and just inhale. What he wanted to do after was a lot earthier.

  Carey had gone directly into the living room, he and the two suits already seated by the time Rock walked in behind the woman wreaking havoc with his focus and libido.

  "Rock, this is Elaine Morganstein, executive producer and Art Gamble." Carey indicated the two suits with his hand. "The director on my current film."

  Rock nodded his acknowledgement but wasn't about to lie and say he was pleased to meet the two.

  When Gamble didn't bother to stand up to shake Rock's hand and Ms. Morganstein merely gave him half a smile, he didn't regret that lack either.

  Momentarily dismissing them, he turned to the beauty who had yet to sit down. "And you are?"

  "Deborah Banes, your brother's co-star." She put her hand out.

  He took it without hesitation. "Pleased to meet you, Deborah."

  Her almost grimace said she very much doubted that and he appreciated the honesty of her reaction enough to grace her with a rare smile. "What do you think of Alaska?"

  "What I've seen so far is beautiful, fascinating...I hope I'll get to stay long enough to get a real impression."

  He inclined his head, surprised by his instant mental agreement with that hope. After a lifetime's habit, he managed to keep his thoughts to himself, though.

  He hadn't let go of her hand and she hadn't tried to pull away. He liked that. Using that connection, he led her to the matching distressed leather sofa facing the one on which Carey sat.

  Deborah perched on the edge of the cushion and Rock took the other end, leaving the two seats beside Carey for the as-yet unnamed guests in his home.

  Rock gave Carey a pointed look. He'd taught his brother better manners.

  Carey managed to look abashed and breezy at the same time, while introducing the director's assistants. He remembered the twenty-something man from the director's initial visit. The older woman was new, though.

  "Carey, are you going to offer your guests refreshments?" Rock asked in the awkward silence that had fallen after the overlooked introductions.

  "Is Mrs. Painter still here?"

  "Why wouldn't she be?"

  "I don't know. I just..."

  "It's not the weekend. She's here."

  "Great." Carey jumped up. "I'll ask her to make coffee."

  "You do that."

  Ms. Morganstein watched the interaction between Rock and his brother with narrow-eyed interest. The director was too busy looking around the living room with unmistakable avarice to notice anything else but the space.

  Rock wasn't worried the man was planning to rob him. No, he was seeing location, location, location.

  Shit.

  "I hope this indicates you are in a more reasonable frame of mind today." Ms. Morganstein swept her hand out, indicating them all sitting civilly in his home.

  "My brother brought guests to my home. That got you in the door, it didn't guarantee you access to my property or my home."

  "His home too."

  "Yes."

  She smiled, her eyes flashing wi
th definite triumph. "He said his name is on the deed."

  "It is."

  "So, our contract stands."

  "What contract might that be?"

  "The one we told you about yesterday," she said with some asperity. "When you refused us entrance to the property."

  "Did you send a copy of that contract to my lawyer for my signature and I don't know about it?"

  "What? No. We were unaware that Carey James wasn't the only owner of the property." Her tone said she didn't like admitting that little fact.

  "Carey James doesn't own shit. Carey Jepsom's name is on the deed to my land."

  "You are playing with semantics. Your brother is co-owner of this land and as such, legally able to enter into contractual obligations relating to it."

  Deborah made a soft sound beside him and he guessed she wasn't as sure as her boss.

  Carey walked back into the room right then, so Rock directed his comments to the younger man. "Tell your producer what percentage of Jepsom Acres you own, Carey."

  "You said it would always be my home."

  "Did you want to move back in?"

  "Of course not!"

  "Then that point is moot."

  "Not exactly, Mr. Jepsom. Your brother's claim to this home is exactly what we are discussing."

  "My brother accepted a significant amount of money from me when he turned twenty-one, in exchange, he relinquished everything but a ten percent interest in the property. I own eighty percent of Jepsom acres and that number increases while Carey's decreases with every improvement I make that increases the value of the property which he does not participate in materially."

  He watched calmly as the arrogant satisfaction faded just a bit in both the director (who was now paying his undivided attention to the discussion) and the producer's expressions.

  "I knew it," Deborah said under her breath.

  Rock shifted his gaze to her. "Knew what, Miss Banes?"

  "Deborah, please."

  He nodded and waited for her to answer.

  She flicked a gaze to Carey and then her producer and director. Rock wasn't surprised when she shook her head instead of answering.

  "Percentages aren't the only important element in a contract like this," the director said with the authority of a man used to talking out of his ass and expecting others not to notice.

  "I promise you, it's all that matters with this one."

  "I'm not sure a judge would see it that way."

  Carey made a familiar sound. He wasn't happy, but he didn't know how to fix something when smothering it with charm didn't work.

  Rock fixed his little brother with a look he'd had to develop raising two younger siblings after their parents died. "You plan to try to sue me for use of my property, Carey?"

  "I don't think it needs to come to that," Carey said weakly.

  "Oh, it most certainly will if you don't find your way toward some semblance of reason," Ms. Morganstein said, like she thought the threat would intimidate him.

  Rock didn't intimidate easily. "You are welcome to take this to court, ma'am, but I guarantee you'll be wasting both time and money best spent on finding another location for your movie."

  "You're prepared for an expensive legal battle?" she asked in a tone that said she was sure he wasn't.

  He looked around his own living room and out the large picture window at the manicured landscaping and well-maintained drive beyond. "What about my home gives you the impression I do not have the resources to grind your fancy LA lawyers into the Alaskan dirt?"

  She jerked back in her chair, her mouth falling open.

  "Have you even looked into Alaska real estate values, ma'am?"

  He wasn't above enjoying the way she winced every time he used the word ma'am. She didn't like being referred to by a word that implied she was older than him. His mother had always hated it.

  "I assure you being a big man in a small town doesn't buy you much when our so-called fancy lawyers come to town."

  Irritated and done with the conversation, Rock stood up. "How about this, ma'am? I'll give you my lawyer's card. You have your people contact him and then you decide if you think it's worth pursuing this."

  He crossed the room, intending to go to his office and get the card.

  "Go with him," he heard the director hiss from behind Rock.

  He was shocked when the person who caught up with him in the hall was Deborah, not Carey. "What they hell? Why did they send you with me?"

  "I don't know."

  Rock automatically adjusted his stride to accommodate the woman who'd sent his libido into overdrive. "Your bosses made a mistake signing that contract with Carey and not bothering to check the title before bringing everyone up here."

  "I know."

  "They don't seem like idiots."

  Deborah made a sound between laughter and impatience. "Your brother can be very convincing."

  "He gets that charm from our father."

  "What about you?"

  "What?"

  "Where did you get your stubbornness from?"

  He turned to face her as they came into his office. "According to my mother, it was her dad. He still runs a ranch in Texas."

  He'd never met his grandparents until after his parents died. The Jepsoms had passed on by then, but his mother's people still lived in Texas.

  He liked to tease his granddad about their baby-sized state claiming a couple, three of them would fit in Alaska's borders. While the truth was that Alaska covered two-point-three times the square miles of Texas, his granddad always argued. The old man swore better than lifelong Cailkirn resident Norris MacKinnon when Maisie wasn't around to hear.

  "Why do you live in Alaska then?"

  "It's home." And he'd had enough never knowing where that was in his younger years.

  She ran her hand along the solid bookshelf he'd commissioned from Natural Furnishings. "Carey's home too."

  Norris MacKinnon had built the office suite himself and Rock was proud of the solid furniture. It wasn't anything like the pressboard crap his parents usually bought because they never planned to stay in any one place very long.

  "When it's convenient for him to think so, yeah."

  "He loves Jepsom Acres with a sincerity he doesn't show everything else." Even acting, her words implied.

  Rock wouldn't say how much he liked hearing that.

  The woman turned him on unexpectedly and completely, but she wasn't his confessor. Or a friend.

  Rock grabbed the law firm's business card and turned to face Deborah. "I'm still not sure what you're doing here."

  "I'm in Cailkirn to make a movie." Her smile was soft, but her tone held a certain level of hardness he respected.

  "I get that, but why did your director send you with me right now? To babysit me?"

  A cynical look came over Deborah's features, making him wonder if she was older than the very early twenties that she looked. "I'm pretty sure babysitting wasn't what they had in mind."

  "They noticed how I reacted to you." And weren't above using whatever or whomever they needed to get what they wanted.

  The question was: Was Deborah amenable to being used?

  Her laugh was laced with genuine humor. "I'm pretty sure a blind man would have and those two are sharks in the water."

  Carey was the only one who might begin to realize how unexpected that was, but Rock doubted his baby brother paid enough attention to have connected those particular dots.

  "You don't look offended."

  "I'm not."

  He narrowed his eyes. "You looking back?"

  "You're pretty direct."

  "Subterfuge is not my thing." He stepped closer to her, the electricity arcing between them.

  Her breath caught. "Not like your brother."

  "Carey will work any angle to catch his big break." Though out-and-out lying? That was something new.

  Had his baby brother changed so much in the four years since he left Cailkirn?

  Deborah loo
ked up at Rock, her voice coming out soft and shivering along his nerve endings. "He says your parents were in the business."

  "They were." The ability to be single-minded was a family trait and right now, Rock's was set on the woman in front of him.

  "Then he comes by it naturally."

  Deborah couldn't have said anything more effective to throw a wash of cold water over his sexual desire.

  Rock stepped back. "He could have followed my example."

  "You don't like the fact he's an actor." She studied him, like she was trying to understand.

  He didn't figure she'd be in Alaska long enough.

  He turned toward the door. "No."

  It was time to get back to the others and end this farce. No matter how he reacted to this woman, he couldn't afford to forget that she was from Carey's world, not Rock's.

  Deborah laid her hand on his arm, stopping him from walking out of the office. "He's still welcome in your home."

  And just like that, from a single, small connection, reason flew out the window and desire wreaked havoc with Rock's heart rate and breathing.

  Doing his best not to let her see the effects such a simple touch had on him, he faced her again. "I've been taking care of Carey and Marilyn since Mom brought them home from the hospital."

  "You couldn't have been that old." A gaze as warm and delicious as chocolate sauce asked him the question her words hadn't.

  Rock shrugged. "I was the oops baby. Marilyn was planned ten years later. Her twin, Carey, was the surprise that time."

  His parents had wanted a daughter. They'd gotten another son too, but one who fit their version of a family better than Rock ever had. And they'd had ten-year-old Rock to help take up the slack with his younger siblings.

  "Still, ten is pretty young to be taking care of a baby." Her tone said she thought he might be exaggerating things a little.

  He wished, and not for the first time, that he was. "My parents put their careers first, last and always. You know the hours your industry demands."

  "I do. You had to have had a nanny."

  "Sometimes." And that was all he was going to say about that. "Did you do it on purpose?"

  "What?"

  He backed her toward the wall, stopping only when their bodies were separated by less than a breath. "Avoid answering my question."