Color crept up his neck, and he looked down at the cot and blinked. A wet spot had spread across the tan canvas. “Shit, I forgot to use a condom.”
She shrugged. “No worries. You can’t get me pregnant. Oh, and I don’t have any sexually transmitted diseases, either. I hope you can say the same.”
He heaved what she had to assume was a relieved exhale. “I’m clean.”
“Thank goodness for small favors.” Stepping into the aisle of stalls, she glanced over her shoulder. “By the way, you’re trespassing.”
Somehow, she walked out of the barn and to the garden without giving in to her raging temper. That jackass—The One? Not in this lifetime. After a quick stop in the herb garden for a basket of fresh parsley, she continued to the rear entrance to her home and set it on the kitchen counter. Her cousin Lujza’s mates nodded a greeting as they prepared a plate of fruit and cheese.
“Hi, guys. How’s Lu this morning? Are the contractions getting any closer?” Jolán grabbed a slice of apple to rid her mouth of the taste of weasel.
Ranulf nodded and pursed his lips. “She is in pain, and she told us to quit smothering her. Her mother suggested we get something to eat and go for a walk.”
They needed a distraction, did they? Jolán had just the errand for them. “Have you checked the security cameras lately? When I went out outside, I saw a strange man near the barn.”
Amalric’s head jerked toward her. “Someone got past the wall and the gate?”
“Yeah. He looked like a big guy.” She lifted her hand to about Ranulf’s nose. The former knight stood six foot four. “About this tall. Your swords ought to scare him off the property and make him think twice about coming back.”
Taking a bit of apple, she headed for her third-floor apartment to enjoy the show.
Chapter 2
Nursing his third cup of coffee since arriving at the office, Liam debated calling Romána Macska to withdraw the building contract for the addition to the mansion. He leaned back in the desk chair and clasped his hands behind his head to stare at the ceiling. Did six months of steady income override the awkwardness of seeing the irresistible little nymph who’d rocked his world off its axis this morning?
Jesus, I didn’t even ask her name. She was right. He deserved the title of man-whore. Having gone almost a year without sex was hardly an acceptable excuse for screwing a complete stranger and basically telling her he’d used her when the deed was done. She’d laughed off his blunt dismissal, but he’d seen the hurt in her expressive brown eyes—if only for a split second before she blew him off. She wasn’t nearly as promiscuous as her sexual acumen suggested.
Not a virgin, but damn close to it.
The connection had been too damn disconcerting. Physically, she pushed all the right buttons. The waist-length, dark brown braid. Her delicate feminine features. Total lack of inhibitions. He could easily picture her running naked through the woods in the pouring rain with a smile on her gorgeous face. She’d laugh and push him to the ground, tearing his clothes off and fucking him until they both—
Best not to go there.
The psychological connection had scared the living hell out of him. She’d made him think of spending the next sixty years with her. He hadn’t had thoughts like that since right before Apryl had dumped his ass for some prick with a Porsche and a seven-figure bank account. Two and a half years of his life wasted on a greedy, unfaithful bitch. He hadn’t found the courage to jump back in the dating pool until today. Not that he’d taken the nymph anywhere but Orgasmville.
How the hell could he look her in the eyes? How could he never see her again?
He rocked forward, his hand hovering over the cell phone on the desk. To call or not to call. The front door slammed, and his heart leapt in his chest.
“Hey, Liam. We better get a move on if we’re going to get the trailer set up out at the Macska estate before lunchtime.” Ivan poked his head in the open doorway. “What the hell happened to you? You get into a fight?”
Using the desk to lever himself to his feet, Liam gave up cancelling the gig. They couldn’t afford to alienate a customer like the Macskas. He stuffed the phone in his pants pocket. “No fight. Why would you think that?”
His business partner grinned and raised his fist. “Looks like somebody punched you in the mouth. Swollen lip. A spot of something red. It sure as hell isn’t lipstick. You haven’t been close enough to a woman for kissing since the tramp got a sugar daddy.”
Running a finger along his lip, Liam tried to hide a reaction to the sting when he bumped a sore spot. What the fuck? She bit me! His dick twitched. At least the damage hadn’t come from either of the over-six-foot gladiator-type guys that had caught him leaving the barn. He was lucky they hadn’t rearranged his entire face. “Definitely not lipstick. I, um, cut myself shaving. The razor slipped.”
Ivan strolled into their shared office and plopped in one of the client chairs, seeming to buy the explanation. “So, are you ready? I can’t wait for all those free meals. Six months of somebody else’s cooking.”
“Hey, I offered to cook.”
“Is that what you do to the inedible crap you heat in a pan? I’m pretty sure I got food poisoning that time you made macaroni and cheese.” Ivan shuddered. “I thought I was gonna die.”
Liam rolled his eyes. “Fuck you. Let’s go.”
* * * *
Loading the last suitcase into the bed of the company truck, Ivan Janokov spared another glance at Liam. The liar secured the trailer with the second chain to the hitch hooks and shoved the electrical plug into the receiver.
Shaving, my ass. For the first time in damn near a year, he hadn’t clenched his jaw at the mention of his ex-fiancée. If Ivan didn’t know better, he’d guess his stepbrother had gotten laid sometime between leaving their house at seven thirty and when Ivan had met him in the office at nine fifteen. Even now, Liam seemed distracted. Something had him acting like a crotchety old fart.
Must’ve been a helluva quickie. Ivan snorted then coughed to disguise his silent jab. “All packed up. You ready?”
Lifting a finger to his mouth, his brother dabbed at the spot on his lip for the tenth time in thirty minutes. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
Shaving. Yeah, right. What had really happened? Ivan climbed behind the steering wheel of the pickup. “Check the lights, will ya?”
After testing the running lights, brake lights, and turn signals, they finally got on the road to their residence for the duration of their biggest construction contract in three years of business. Hauling a twenty-foot camper along narrow, winding roads made for a slow trip from the house to the gated estate, but they pulled up to the security camera mounted inside a brick-and-mortar post well before noon. A computerized voice gave them the okay to enter, and the tall iron fence opened to let them inside. A few minutes later, Ivan parked the truck and trailer next to a two-car garage dwarfed by the crescent-shaped mansion.
A woman and two men descended the steps from the columned porch, one obviously Romána Macska, their contact for the job. From Liam’s description, Ivan expected her to be frail and hunched over, but she stood straight as an arrow with a long white braid hanging over her shoulder. Her piercing eyes sent a shiver up Ivan’s spine from across the wide driveway.
The men flanked the woman, looking like a pair of bodyguards. Both towered over her, and neither seemed pleased to have company.
Exiting the truck, Ivan extended his hand. “Ms. Macska, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Liam’s business partner, I—”
“Great Grandmother! The babies are here!” A flurry of dark hair flew out behind the girl jogging toward them from the portico. No, not a girl—a young woman with full, jiggling boobs and a narrow waist. Tiny bare feet peeked out from under her flapping skirt.
Forget the free food. Let’s go for dessert.
She stopped to grin at the old lady. Her pert nipples pushed against the front of her low-cut sleeveless tank as she panted. “Aliz
and Éliás...have been...born.”
Romána smiled and grasped the hottie’s hand. “A blessed day this is. I apologize for the interruption, young man. We’ve been waiting most of a day for our newest family members to arrive.”
“No problem. Congratulations.” Ivan glanced from the old woman to the messenger. Would she catch the hint?
“Allow me to introduce my granddaughter. This is Yo-lawn. Today is the day of her birth as well.”
Was the lady perceptive or what? Working to keep his gaze on Jolán’s face, he nodded. “Happy birthday, Yo-lawn. Pretty name. Is that with a ‘J’ or a ‘Y’?”
She gave him what seemed to be a flirty smile, and his stomach somersaulted. “Thank you. A ‘J’. It’s Hungarian.”
This could be an interesting six months. “Ah, Jolán. My name’s Russian. Ivan Janokov. With a ‘J’, not a ‘Y’.”
“Ahem.” The door of the truck slammed shut.
Almost two decades of sharing a home with Liam warned Ivan that the throat clearing meant somebody was seriously pissed. He shifted to look at his stepbrother leaning against the hood. Instead of staring him down, Liam’s glare was focused on a spot beyond Ivan. Following the line of his brother’s gaze, Ivan turned to Jolán.
She raised her eyebrows at Liam. “Two handsome men and houseful of women. You better lock that trailer door at night. Of course, you might prefer a revolving supply of—”
“Jolán, tell Lujza I will come to see her children in a few minutes.” Romána’s tone said she’d brook no argument.
“Yes, ma’am.” Spinning on her heel, Jolán strode toward the mansion without a backward glance.
What the hell was that about? Ivan tried to give Liam a questioning expression, but his brother’s narrowed eyes were locked on the departing female. His jaw flexed.
Half the answer to the question of the day. Did Liam and Jolán have a run-in this morning? Had he put the moves on her and gotten slapped? That could explain the bloody lip. Then again, a rough make out session would do the same. If her passion matched her outspoken nature, sex would be energetic, to say the least. Hm. Maybe the quickie idea wasn’t far off after all.
“I’ll show you where to park your trailer.” The shorter of the bodyguards stepped forward. His silver-gray eyes conveyed a deep lack of trust in Ivan and Liam. “I’m Sandor. Konrad and I will assist you in setting up camp.”
Liam rounded the front end of the truck. “We can handle it. See you at lunch.” With a nod toward the white-haired woman, he waved an arm. “Let’s go, Ivan. You drive. I found a level spot near the flower bed with the fountain when I walked the grounds earlier.”
For a guy with better manners than most, Liam’s interaction with their clients was out of character, but Ivan wasn’t about to call him on the rude dismissal. Exchanging profanities and insults in the driveway probably wouldn’t make a very good impression.
A low growl drew Ivan’s attention back to Sandor. “They shouldn’t be permitted to wander freely about the estate.”
Romána patted his hand. “Ethan and Grant have assured me that all is well. Come. I wish to welcome my grandchildren.”
Ignoring all the questions forming in his mind from Sandor’s comment, Ivan figured he should make up for his brother’s insolence. “Pleasure to meet you, Ms. Macska. We look forward to your hospitality at lunchtime.”
She nodded. “And you, Mr. Janokov. I appreciate your willingness to reside here while you add to my family’s home. Until the meal.”
When she and the goons reached the front steps, he climbed into the pickup. Liam stood in the grass at the corner of the mansion, directing him into the yard. Within a few minutes, the trailer was parked, leveled, and unhitched.
As he kicked the tire wedges into place, Ivan let his thoughts roam back to the bodyguard’s grumbled complaint. Was the guy concerned about theft? Peeping Toms? Or did the Macskas have secrets to hide? Everybody in town knew they grew much of their own food, living like a commune from the days of hippies and Woodstock. Was marijuana a part of their crops?
“All the sheathing, felt, and shingles were delivered yesterday.” Liam laid a set of metal poles on the ground. “After I put up the awning, I’m going to take a walk through the site. I want to inspect the foundation and framing before we start climbing around on three-story-high rafters.”
“That can’t wait until after lunch? I kind of wanted to look around before we got started.”
Propping his fists on his hips, Liam frowned. “We’re here to do a job. Roof, insulation, interior and exterior walls. It’s gonna take long enough without wasting an hour here and an hour there. Let’s just get the fucking thing done.”
Since when did Liam refer to building as something to get fucking done?
Ivan lined up the last wedge and gave it a boot. “Look, I don’t know what the hell your problem is, but it ends right here. I’m not spending the next six months in a trailer with a goddamn whiner. Get it off your chest, or let it go.”
The pole Liam had started to pick up clanked against its twin. He straightened, his fingers flexing and unflexing. “You really don’t get it, do you?”
“Get what, that you’re being a prick?”
“No, smartass. You can’t go around trying to pick up—”
“Wait a damn minute. I was flirting with Jolán a little bit, not trying to pick her up. Besides, she’s a babe, and she was doing a fair amount of flirting herself.”
Liam bent over to grab the pole again, spinning toward the trailer as he stood. He jammed the end into the bracket on the side of the camper. “We’re here to do a job.”
“I’m supposed to give up talking to a beautiful woman because you have a hair up your ass? Well, screw you. I’m not working eighty hours a week to finish this job without having some entertainment along the way.”
“She isn’t here for your fucking entertainment.”
“Jealous because she likes me better than you? Did you put the moves on her this morning and get blown off?” Jolán’s remark to his stepbrother popped to the front of his thoughts. Lock that trailer door at night. Of course, you might prefer a revolving supply of— “You bastard. She let you touch her, and you blew her off, didn’t you? Damn it, you used her.”
Liam’s neck and face reddened, and he kicked the pole from its hole, sending it clanking to the ground. Without a word, he strode away toward the skeletal outline of the new wing of the mansion.
Ivan didn’t need any more than that telltale response to have the answer. His stomach knotted. That Jolán had allowed the dickhead to fuck her bothered Ivan less than knowing the man he’d respected had treated her like crap. She didn’t deserve to be hurt because Liam had lumped all the opposite sex in a pile with his slutty, gold-digging ex-girlfriend.
Returning to his now-solitary job of setting up camp, Ivan debated whether to continue his flirtation or back off. He wanted no part of a woman scorned revenge plot. Jolán didn’t seem the type, but any guy who claimed to know what a female was thinking was full of shit.
Chapter 3
Looking down at the water garden area, Jolán watched as Liam kicked out his foot, hitting something sticking out from the side of the camper. He stomped out of her line of vision, probably to the part of the mansion currently under construction.
What reason did he have to be mad? He’d been the one to deem her and their encounter unimportant. He’d even escaped the wrath of Amalric and Ranulf that morning when she’d told them about the trespasser. Stupid legitimate excuse for being on the estate. Then he’d returned with his business partner, setting off her temper and her ridiculous hormones again.
Her eyes drifted back to Ivan. As dark as his partner was light, he sported black hair, deep brown eyes, and a shadow of razor stubble on his jaw. He was every bit as handsome as his coworker, a casual flirt, and an unwanted trigger for her sex drive. Liam’s preemptive rebuttal was too fresh in her mind to pursue another man so soon.
Ivan picked up the pos
ts Liam had abandoned, fitting both into their holes. Reaching up to the top of the trailer, he unrolled a tan tarp. After he hooked the loose corners to the ends of poles, the awning formed a porch roof-like entrance to their temporary home. He went to work extending ropes from the cover to the ground. A thump carried to her ears every time he pounded on the stakes securing the ties.
She studied the movement of his muscles beneath the snug T-shirt. When he rubbed his forearm across his forehead and tugged the shirt over his head, she could only sigh. He was built strong and buff like Liam, although he seemed less reticent. More carefree. Open.
Liam’s rejection still stung, but she refused to dwell on it. What choice did she have? She had seven days to find a man to impregnate her, or wait seven years to search again for her true life-mate. At the moment, Ivan was the only other available male. Based on his flirting, she’d guess he wasn’t involved in a relationship. Maybe she could convince him to sit next to her at lunch and join her for dessert in her new king-size bed.
Every unmated daughter in the Macska clan moved out of her parents’ living quarters and into her own apartment in the mansion a few weeks before her first fertility cycle. At twenty-one years old, she was expected to find her mate and produce a female heir to the line of witches.
Jolán turned from the window, pacing to the open doorway to the nursery. A crib stood across the room waiting for bedding. The matching dresser and changing table lined the adjacent wall. No decorations had been hung yet.
She pulled the door closed. The pressure to find her true mate was maddening enough without seeing a reminder every day. Shaking her head, she considered postponing her search for a man. Would waiting until her twenty-eighth birthday to take a mate change anything?
The drawer full of toys in her nightstand had given her satisfying orgasms for the last year. Satisfying, yes. As good as I had this morning? Not even close. Giving Ivan a test run worried her, though. What if he didn’t want to be involved in a serious relationship, either?
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