Harlequin Romance April 2015 Box Set

by Michelle Douglas, Jessica Gilmore, Jennifer Faye

  Her thoughts slammed to a halt. She stood there, hands still attached to the roller door, and gaped at the vision of loveliness that had appeared in front of her.

  Eventually she lowered her hands, wiped them down the sides of her jeans. Oh. My. Word.

  Oh.

  Dear.

  Lord.

  The sky-blue classic eighties sports car was her very own fantasy car brought to life and it was all she could do to not drop to her knees and kiss it.

  ‘Oh, my God, you are the most beautiful car ever,’ she whispered, daring to trail a finger across the bodywork as she completed a full circle around it, admiring the front curves, the fat spoiler, its gloss, its clean lines and its shape. What wouldn’t she do to test drive this car?

  What wouldn’t she do just to sit in one!

  She tried the driver’s door. Locked.

  With a jump, she spun around and closed the garage door. One needed to protect a piece of perfection like this from damaging elements. She parked The Beast in the bay beside the sleek machine.

  Beauty and The Beast.

  She cast one more longing look at Mac’s beautiful car before closing the second roller door and racing into the house. Mac was still in the kitchen—eating a sandwich now, rather than the apple.

  He glanced up when she clattered in. ‘I take it I’m allowed to help myself to the provisions?’

  ‘You have my dream car in your garage!’

  ‘Is that a yes?’

  How could he be so cool? She gaped at him and then mentally kicked herself. She spread her arms wide. ‘Of course! You can help yourself to anything.’

  He stared at her and his eyes darkened. He licked his lips and she had a sudden feeling he wasn’t thinking about food, but an altogether different primal need. She pulled her arms back to her sides, heat flooding her veins. Don’t be ridiculous. Men like Mac didn’t find women like her attractive.

  Mac turned away from her on his chair as if he’d just come to the same conclusion. She dragged a hand back through her hair to rub her nape.

  ‘You said something about my car?’

  She swallowed back the request that he let her drive it—just once. She swallowed back asking him if he’d just let her sit in it. For all she knew that might be as insensitive as asking him to teach her to cook.

  ‘I... It’s beautiful.’

  He glanced at her, raised an eyebrow, and she shrugged, unsure what to say, unsure what constituted a safe topic—because she never wanted to witness that look of defeat and despair on his face again. So she shrugged again and filled the jug. She measured out tea leaves.

  ‘Feel free to take it for a spin any time you want.’

  The jug wobbled precariously as she poured boiling water into the teapot.

  Mac leapt up. ‘Don’t burn yourself!’

  She concentrated on setting the jug back in its place. ‘I didn’t spill a drop.’ Her heart thump-thumped. ‘I’m fine.’ She set the teapot and two mugs onto the table. ‘But I gotta tell you, Mac, you shouldn’t offer a girl her heart’s desire while she’s pouring out boiling water—and for future reference probably not while she’s wielding sharp implements either.’

  She smiled as she said it. Mac didn’t smile back. He just stared at the jug with haunted eyes, the pulse in his throat pounding.

  She sat down as if nothing in the world was amiss. ‘Would you truly let me take your car out for a drive?’

  He sat too. He wiped a hand down his face before lifting one negligent shoulder. ‘Sure.’ But he reached out to pour the tea before she could. ‘It could use a run. I turn it over a couple of times a week, but I don’t take it out.’

  She gaped at him. ‘You’d let me drive it? Just like that?’

  That same slow lift of his shoulder. ‘Why not?’

  It took an effort of will to drag her gaze from that broad sweep of corded muscle. ‘I...uh... What if I pranged it?’

  ‘The insurance would cover it. Jo, it’s just a car.’

  ‘No, it’s not. It’s...’ She reached out to try and pluck the appropriate description from the air. ‘It’s a gem, a jewel—a thing of beauty. It’s—’

  ‘Just a car.’

  ‘A piece of precision German engineering.’

  She almost asked how he could not want to drive it, but choked the question back at the last moment. That would be tactless. He’d been in the most dreadful accident, had suffered a long and painful recovery, and would bear the scars for the rest of his life. He’d been hounded by the media. She could see how fast cars might have lost their appeal.

  So why hadn’t he sold it?

  She stared at him and pursed her lips. Maybe Mac hadn’t given up on life as completely as he thought.

  He glared. ‘What?’

  ‘You wouldn’t consider selling it, would you?’

  He blinked. ‘Could you afford it?’

  ‘I’ve been working in the Outback for the last eight years, making decent money but having very little to spend it on.’

  He scratched a hand through his hair. ‘But you’re not earning a decent wage now.’

  She was earning enough to cover her needs.

  He jabbed a finger at her. ‘And you may, in fact, be training for a new job shortly.’

  ‘I suppose it wouldn’t be the most practical of moves.’

  He glared. ‘You can say that again.’

  He didn’t want to sell it! She bit back a grin. There was still some life in Mac after all.

  He settled back in his seat with a harrumph. ‘But the offer stands. You can take it for a spin any time you want.’

  ‘Lord, don’t say that,’ she groaned, ‘or your house will never get cleaned.’

  He laughed. It made his eyes dance, it softened his lips, and Jo couldn’t drag her gaze away. ‘You...uh...’ She moistened her lips. ‘You wouldn’t want to come along for a spin?’

  His face was immediately shuttered, closed, and she could have kicked herself. ‘Well, no, I guess not. You’re busy writing up your recipes and stuff.’

  ‘Speaking of which...’ He rose, evidently intent on getting back to work.

  She surveyed his retreating back with a sinking heart. Well done, Jo.

  In the next moment he returned. He poured himself a second cup of tea before unhitching a set of keys from the wall and setting them in front of her. ‘Ms Anderson, you brew a mighty fine pot of coffee and not a bad cup of tea. Reward yourself and take the car for a spin.’

  She shook her head. ‘Not until I have your house looking spotless.’ It would be a nice treat to spur her on. ‘Maybe the day after tomorrow.’

  He merely shrugged and left the keys on the table.

  * * *

  After lunch, two days later, Jo made a pot of tea and poured a mug for both her and Mac. Mac reached across to rattle the keys to his car. For the last two days those keys had sat on the table, where they’d tempted, teased and cajoled Jo mercilessly. Neither she nor Mac had put them back on the hook

  ‘Does the house pass muster?’ he asked.

  Yes, it did. And so did the driveway since she’d found a pile of blue metal gravel out behind the garage. She’d used it to fill in the worst of the potholes along the driveway.

  ‘You can retract your offer any time,’ she told him.

  ‘I’m not going to retract the offer, Jo. Go take the car for a spin and enjoy yourself.’

  He tossed her the keys. She stared down at them, and then at him. ‘I won’t be gone long—maybe twenty or thirty minutes tops.’

  He shrugged as if he didn’t care how long she’d be gone. ‘Just don’t get a speeding ticket,’ he tossed over his shoulder, before taking his mug and heading back upstairs to his mysterious work.

  She wondered h
ow on earth he could write recipes if he didn’t cook them first.

  She wondered how he could bear not to take his beautiful car out for a drive.

  She drained her tea and then headed straight out to the garage. Would she even fit into the low-slung sports car? She planted her hands on her hips. If Mac did then she would too. She folded herself into it and sat for a long time, revelling in the moment and familiarising herself with the dashboard, the gears, the fact the indicator was on the left of the steering wheel rather than the right.

  She started it up and gave a purr of delight at the throaty sound of the turbo engine. Would the reality of driving this car live up to the fantasy?

  She negotiated the driveway with ludicrous care. She had no intention of bringing this car back in anything but perfect condition. When she finally reached the open road she let out a yell of pure delight, relishing the perfect handling, the smooth ride and the responsive power of the car. A body could get addicted to the sheer exhilaration!

  After her first initial experimentation with the accelerator she made sure to stick to the speed limit. Instead of speed she savoured the way the car handled the twists and turns of these old country roads.

  Oh, how could Mac stand to leave this amazing car in his garage and not use it?

  She explored the roads that branched off from Mac’s property, along with a couple of others that it seemed justifiable to explore, and discovered two tiny hamlets—Diamond Beach and Hallidays Point—both of which had tiny general stores if she needed to pop out for bread or milk. She also discovered more glorious coastal scenery.

  Mac had certainly chosen a beautiful part of the world for his exile. Odd, then, that he didn’t seem to spend much time appreciating it, that he’d taken such pains to shut it out from his sight.

  It was grief, she supposed. Grief at having lost the life he’d had. There was no denying that until six months ago it had been a charmed life. Maybe when his grief had had time to abate he’d see a way forward again. Perhaps he’d realise his old life wasn’t irrevocably lost to him forever.

  Not if he refuses to cook.

  She sighed, but a signpost pointing down another winding road had her slowing. ‘Dog Shelter’. A grin built through her and on impulse she turned down the road.

  Mac will freak!

  So what?

  It’s his house.

  Nothing had been said about not being allowed a pet.

  She turned into the signposted driveway. She wasn’t the only person at the dog shelter. An elderly man emerged from the back of a small sedan as she pulled up beside it. A border collie leapt out behind him.

  A woman dressed in overalls strode up from a nearby dog run. ‘Mr Cole? And I expect this is Bandit?’ She nodded to tell Jo she’d be with her shortly.

  Mr Cole’s hand dropped to Bandit’s head and tears filled his eyes. ‘It breaks my heart to leave him.’

  Jo’s throat thickened.

  The woman glanced at the younger couple who had remained in the car. ‘Your family can’t take him?’

  He shook his head and Jo had a feeling that won’t rather than ‘can’t’ was the operative word on that.

  ‘Please find a good home for him. He’s such a good boy and has been such a good pal. If I wasn’t going into a nursing home I’d...’

  Jo couldn’t stand it any more. She leapt forward. ‘Oh, please let me take him. He’s beautiful and I promise to love him.’

  And then she was on her knees in front of Bandit, who obligingly licked her face. As she ran her hands through his fur she realised what a spectacle she must look. She rose, aware of how much she towered over Mr Cole and Bandit—not to mention the dog shelter lady.

  ‘I was driving past and saw the sign and...well, it suddenly occurred to me that I’m at a point in my life where I can offer a dog a good home.’

  Did that make her sound like a stark raving lunatic? Or a responsible, prospective dog owner?

  ‘Maybe...’ She swallowed. ‘Maybe, Mr Cole, I could bring Bandit to visit you in your new home?’

  * * *

  Mac paced back and forth along the veranda. Jo had been gone for over an hour.

  An hour!

  Anything could have happened to her. His stomach churned. She could be lying in a ditch somewhere. Or wrapped around a tree. What had he been thinking to let her go driving off like that on her own? Had she even driven a performance car before? Why hadn’t he gone with her?

  He closed his eyes. He’d have enjoyed it too much. His hands fisted. If he didn’t keep fighting the distractions this cookbook would never get written.

  And he had to finish it.

  He gripped the railing and stared out to sea. Jo was capable. She’d be fine. He drew air into his lungs. Of course she’d be fine. She’d just be caught up in the experience.

  He knew exactly what that felt like.

  He started pacing again. He hadn’t done any real maintenance on the car since he’d buried himself out here. What if it had broken down? What if she was stuck on the side of the road somewhere? Did she have her phone with her?

  He dug out his own phone to check for messages.

  Nothing.

  At that exact moment he heard the low rumble of the car’s engine and he had to lower himself to the top step as relief punched through him. He closed his eyes and gave thanks. Jo was his responsibility, and—

  Since when?

  She was an employee, and that made her his responsibility.

  Responsibility and a thorn in his side.

  Nonetheless, when she parked the car in front of the house it took all his strength to remain where he was rather than leap down the stairs, haul her from the car and hug her. Those would be the actions of a crazy man. And, despite her first impressions of him, Mac wasn’t crazy.

  She bounced out of the car with a grin that held a hint of trepidation and, thorn in his side or not, he silently acknowledged how glad he was to see her.

  ‘Have fun?’ he managed.

  ‘I didn’t mean to be gone so long. I hope I didn’t worry you?’ She sent him a wary glance. ‘The car is amazing.’

  He tried to tamp down on the rising wave of enthusiasm he felt for the car too. ‘I’m glad it lived up to expectations.’

  ‘Oh, it exceeded them.’

  He closed his eyes and refused to ask her how she’d felt as she’d swept around a wide bend in the road, or what she thought of the vehicle’s magnificent acceleration.

  ‘But I got a bit distracted.’

  He snapped his eyes open and leapt to his feet. Had she scratched his car?

  ‘What do you mean—?’

  And he found a dog sitting at her feet. His jaw dropped.

  ‘You put a dog in my car?’

  ‘I... We made sure to use a blanket so Bandit, here, wouldn’t damage the upholstery.’

  He stared at her. ‘You put a flea-ridden mutt in my car?’

  She grimaced, shifting from one foot to the other.

  Get over it, pal, he told himself.

  Get over it? That car was his most treasured possession! It—

  He suddenly flashed to Ethan, in the burns unit at the hospital, and had to lower himself back to the step. He’d give the car up in a heartbeat if it would turn the clock back, if it would change things. But it wouldn’t.

  Nothing he could do would achieve that. What did a bit of dog hair matter in the grand scheme of things?

  She moved to sit on the step below him. The dog remained where he was. ‘I know it’s scandalous, Mac—a dog in your precious car. But...’

  ‘What are we doing with a dog, Jo?’

  Her gaze drifted to his scar. He turned that side of his face away from her and pretended to stare out to sea.

  ‘Is this som
e underhand attempt to provide me with pet therapy?’

  She huffed out a breath. ‘No.’ She patted her knee. ‘Come on, Bandit.’ The dog remained sitting by the car. ‘I... He’s for me, not you, but I don’t think he likes me very much.’

  He glanced at her to find her frowning at the dog.

  ‘Bandit’s is a sad story...’ She told it to him, and then said, ‘So, you see, when Mr Cole’s face lit up so much at my promise to bring Bandit to visit him and he started crying I had to take Bandit then and there. Mr Cole would’ve fretted and thought me no fit carer for Bandit if I’d insisted on getting The Beast rather than letting him ride in Beauty.’

  She’d dubbed his car Beauty?

  It certainly suited the car. And it suited the woman who’d just driven it.

  ‘You do see that, don’t you?’

  He let out a breath and nodded.

  She reached forward and clasped his hand briefly. ‘Thank you.’ She turned to survey the dog again.

  He stared at the hand she’d clasped. He closed it to a fist and tried to stave off the warmth threatening to flood him.

  ‘Do you think he doesn’t like me because I’m so big?’

  ‘You’re not big!’

  Astonished sage eyes stared into his.

  He clicked his fingers. ‘Bandit.’

  The dog immediately rose and leapt up the steps to sit at Mac’s feet. ‘See—I’m bigger than you and he’s fine with it.’

  ‘But you’re a man, and I’m big for a woman. I expect animals sense those kinds of things.’

  ‘Nonsense.’

  ‘He likes you.’

  Her crestfallen face told him that she had indeed bought the dog for herself, and not some attempt to lure him out of whatever dark pit of depression she imagined him in.

  ‘His previous owner was a man, so it only stands to reason that he’s used to men.’

  ‘I guess...’

  ‘Besides, he’ll be missing this Mr Cole of his and not understanding what’s happening.’

  ‘Oh, yes, the poor thing.’ She reached out and gave the dog a gentle hug and a kiss to the top of his head.

  Mac’s heart started to thump when he imagined—

  Don’t imagine!

  He cleared his throat and tried to clear his mind. ‘Once he works out that you’re the person who feeds him you’ll win both his undying love and his loyalty.’