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The Christmas Wedding Ring
Susan Mallery
New York Times bestselling author Susan Mallery returns with a classic story of destiny, desire and a little holiday magic!In her youth, Molly Anderson couldn't help crushing on gorgeous bad boy Dylan Black–even though he only had eyes for her older sister. When things didn't work out between them, he said goodbye to Molly as well, vowing they'd have a great adventure when she grew up. Years later, dumped by her fiancé just before Christmas, she's finally ready to take Dylan up on his promise.A guarded Dylan always had a weakness for Molly, and when she waltzes back into his life–grown-up and gorgeous–he's stunned. So why not whisk her away for some no-strings-attached fun?Laughter-filled days and late-night kisses are changing Molly's life, for good. The only gift she truly wants now is Dylan's love, but when he discovers the secret she's been keeping, she may lose him again…this time forever.


New York Times bestselling author Susan Mallery returns with a classic story of destiny, desire and a little holiday magic!
In her youth, Molly Anderson couldn’t help crushing on gorgeous bad boy Dylan Black—even though he only had eyes for her older sister. When things didn’t work out between them, he said goodbye to Molly as well, vowing they’d have a great adventure when she grew up. Years later, dumped by her fiancé just before Christmas, she’s finally ready to take Dylan up on his promise.
A guarded Dylan always had a weakness for Molly, and when she waltzes back into his life—grown-up and gorgeous—he’s stunned. So why not whisk her away for some no-strings-attached fun?
Laughter-filled days and late-night kisses are changing Molly’s life, for good. The only gift she truly wants now is Dylan’s love, but when he discovers the secret she’s been keeping, she may lose him again…this time forever.
Praise for New York Times bestselling author Susan Mallery (#ulink_69afc693-611c-5df8-b6bb-06b10ef42f53)
“Megastar Mallery provides plenty of holiday cheer.… [W]onderful…heartwarming.”
—RT Book Reviews on Christmas on 4th Street, 4 1/2 stars, Top Pick
“Fans of the Fool’s Gold series will enjoy this Christmas interlude.”
—Publishers Weekly on Christmas on 4th Street
“A sweet, heartwarming Christmas romance.”
—Kirkus Reviews on A Fool’s Gold Christmas
“Mallery has again created an engrossing tale of emotional growth and the healing power of friendship as these three ‘sisters’ meet life’s challenges.”
—Library Journal on Three Sisters
“The wildly popular and prolific Mallery can always be counted on to tell an engaging story of modern romance.”
—Booklist on Summer Nights
“Mallery infuses her story with eccentricity, gentle humor, and small-town shenanigans.”
—Publishers Weekly on Summer Days
“Susan Mallery is one of my favorites.”
—#1 New York Times bestselling author Debbie Macomber
The Christmas Wedding Ring
Susan Mallery


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Dear Reader (#ulink_d892aad0-8f7e-576d-b586-99fb7f442284),
’Tis the season for romance! (But then, when ’tisn’t?) I’m filled with even more joy than usual this year because Mills & Boon has decided to reissue The Wedding Ring Promise with a Christmassy title and glorious new cover. Admit it…the wildly romantic holiday scene pulled you right in, didn’t it? When I first saw this cover, I felt as excited as a girl who had just opened a gift that was exactly what she wanted.
This book is very personal to me. Molly, the heroine of The Christmas Wedding Ring, was inspired by a wonderful friend who faced adversity with grace and humor, and who found her own happy ending. Molly deserves a terrific guy like Dylan, someone who will love her no matter what, someone who will appreciate her beauty and courage and kindness. Someone who will be kind to her in return. Not to mention, someone who makes her heart race!
I hope you’ll enjoy Molly and Dylan’s journey toward love. Happy holidays! May the coming year bring you four seasons filled with romance.
Love,
Susan Mallery
Contents
Cover (#ub9c27236-3ea1-511f-b9af-0699ba43fbff)
Back Cover Text (#uc64d717e-a847-5e3a-a87b-a765dec790a2)
Praise (#ulink_1d77009d-9911-571f-8c8c-9b5a80edd4c9)
Title Page (#uc69bd787-d5f2-5724-87f8-bab7e4da4c79)
Dear Reader (#ulink_7f4e7642-d5fd-5318-b13b-a5a0a9c84785)
Prologue (#ulink_a7e730fe-3e36-5f52-baf2-b140f6e794c2)
Chapter One (#ulink_3fd019d3-cdf3-596b-b72e-f1ecd7bf5876)
Chapter Two (#ulink_41cf1ef4-80c6-539b-a4a1-a626d1815772)
Chapter Three (#ulink_989a0511-0d40-5e79-bf5d-28cd984fa5f2)
Chapter Four (#ulink_f43119f4-5107-52f9-8b12-030074856b3b)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Prologue (#ulink_c9836cdf-483e-54f3-9d39-dab8234f84fd)
Fourteen years ago—December 22
“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here in the sight of God and this company...”
Molly Anderson tuned out the minister’s words and sighed impatiently. She wasn’t interested in being gathered together or standing through what promised to be a long, boring ceremony. She didn’t want to be here, and if the truth be told, her sister, the bride, didn’t want her here, either. But their mother had insisted.
“Whatever will people think if little Molly isn’t in the wedding?” her mother had asked. “Janet, make her one of your bridesmaids. You’re going to have so many that she won’t be in the way. If Molly is at the end of the line, she’ll be up against the wall of the church. No one will even see her.”
Molly raised her chin slightly. She knew she wasn’t supposed to have heard that conversation. She hadn’t really been eavesdropping. She’d just sorta been walking by the dining room. And it was her house, too, even if everyone seemed to forget that she lived there! She tightened her grip on her spray of ridiculous poinsettias. Poinsettias! Janet could’ve gone with red roses for her Christmas-themed wedding, but no, she had to choose poinsettias, which were already looking droopy, and the wedding had barely begun.
It didn’t matter, she thought grimly. Janet hadn’t wanted her to be in the wedding, and she, Molly, was only here because she’d been threatened with “severe punishment” if she didn’t cooperate.
She shifted until she was able to lean against the wooden paneling of the church wall. The service continued. Molly watched without a whole lot of interest. This wasn’t her idea of a romantic wedding at all. If nothing else, the bride and groom should be in love. But Janet was marrying Thomas because he was a successful lawyer and his family owned a huge law firm in San Francisco. Thomas was marrying Janet because she was beautiful. Janet got nearly everything because she was beautiful.
She made a stunning bride. Even Molly was willing to concede that. The silk-and-lace gown accentuated Janet’s model-thin figure and sleek dark hair. She would look perfect in every picture. It wasn’t fair, Molly thought as she tugged on the waist of her too-tight tea-length gown. Green, of course. Her least favorite color in the whole world.
The style didn’t suit her at all. For one thing, it was too sophisticated. At fourteen she was the youngest of the bridesmaids. She was also the shortest. Janet’s friends were tall and willowy, like Janet herself. Molly didn’t consider five foot four short, but compared with the rest of the family, she was practically an elf. Just one more reason she didn’t fit in the family with—
The skin at the back of her neck prickled. Molly straightened, then turned to glance over her shoulder. A shadow moved into view at the rear of the church, backlit by the soft lights on the tall Christmas tree in the foyer. The shadow became a man, and her breath caught in her throat. Dylan! He was here!
She’d wondered if he would show up to see Janet marry someone else. Was he tortured by the ceremony? Did he want to stalk up the center aisle and claim Janet as his own? Molly was torn. Although she would have loved the drama of the event, she didn’t want dumb old Janet marrying anyone as wonderful as Dylan. He was too...everything.
Knowing that her mother was going to kill her and figuring it would be worth it, Molly slipped down the side aisle toward the rear of the church. She moved quietly, and as far as she could tell, no one noticed her departure. As she stepped into the foyer, she saw Dylan had already walked out into the afternoon.
“Dylan,” she called as she hurried after him. When she reached the stairs leading down to the sidewalk, she skidded to a stop.
His black motorcycle was parked at the curb. There were compartments on either side and a bundle tied onto the area behind his seat. Realization dawned, and with it, a piercing pain in her chest.
“You’re leaving.” It wasn’t a question.
He heard her and turned. “Hey, kid. What’s up?”
She clutched her poinsettas and stared at him. “You’re leaving,” she repeated. “Why?”
He shrugged. “There’s nothing for me here. Not anymore.”
While the rest of the country battled blizzards, here the weather was perfect, the kind of day Southern California was known for. Bright blue sky, balmy temperature, a soft breeze. No doubt Janet had made arrangements for this weather well in advance. But all the loveliness of the day was nothing when compared with the beauty that was Dylan Black.
He was tall, just over six feet, with dark hair and eyes. His black leather jacket made his broad shoulders seem enormous. Jeans hugged his butt and thighs. He wore dark boots and an earring. Molly quivered just thinking about it all. He was her reason for living.
“You can’t go,” she said as she hurried down to stand next to him. “It’s only three days till Christmas.”
He gave her an easy smile, the one that made her forget to breathe.
Dylan had first entered her life two years earlier, when Janet had started dating him. For the most part Molly hadn’t paid much attention to her sister’s boyfriends. They’d all been boring. But Dylan was different. Her diary was a testament to his virtues—as she saw them, anyway. The boys her own age had become insignificant by comparison. He actually noticed her and spoke to her. He teased her about being smart, seemed interested in her classes, and he treated her like a real person. If that wasn’t heavenly enough, he never made fun of her braces, her bad skin or her baby fat. For the past two years, Molly had been praying Dylan would see what a tool Janet was and notice her instead.
She’d gotten the first part of her wish. Janet and Dylan had broken up, but her sister had been the one to end the relationship...and Dylan hadn’t turned to Molly for comfort.
“It’s time for me to move on,” he said now as he shoved his hands into his jeans pockets. “It’s the way of the world, kid. But I’m gonna miss you.”
“Really?” Her voice came out in a squeak.
“Sure. We’re buddies.” He gave her a sad smile that didn’t reach his beautiful eyes.
Buddies? She bit back a sigh. Okay, she’d been hoping for more, but she could live with that.
“Where are you going to go?” she asked. “You’re not going to be alone for Christmas, are you? I don’t think I could stand that.”
He shrugged. “Away from here. I thought I might try racing.” He jerked his head toward his bike. “I’m pretty good on that thing.”
“You’re the best.” She pressed her bouquet to her chest.
If only she could ask him to take her with him. Molly exhaled. She might have a crush on Dylan, but she wasn’t stupid. He was good to her, but he just saw her as Janet’s little sister. If only she had a way of making him stay.
“You can’t go,” she said, remembering something important “You promised me an adventure. With you. Remember? When I grow up.”
This time the smile did reach his eyes. He stretched out his hand and touched her cheek. “Yeah, I remember. We’re going away on my bike.”
“Right. Well, I’m going to be grown up soon. If you’re gone, how can I find you so we can take that trip? You wouldn’t go back on your word, would you?”
“Come here,” he said gruffly, and held out his arms.
In his worn leather jacket and scuffed boots, he looked like an outlaw. Molly had never been in love before, but she knew she would never feel this way about another man, ever.
She rushed toward him. He captured her and pulled her hard against him. The poinsettias were crushed between them, but she didn’t care. Nothing mattered but being close to Dylan.
She’d been hugged before, but those had been boys and Dylan was very much a man. She tried to notice everything so she could remember it and think about it later. She had a bad feeling that he was going to leave her with little more than memories.
She laid her cheek against his shoulder and felt the cool smoothness of the leather. She inhaled the scent of him and absorbed the warmth of his body. He was strong and lean, and he held her as if she really mattered. Then he stepped back.
“I’ve gotta go,” he said.
She nodded. “I understand. It’s too hard to stay around here. You still love her.”
One side of his mouth quirked up at the corner. “If this is love, it hurts like hell.” He thought for a moment. “Tell you what, Molly. When you’re all grown up and ready for that adventure, you come find me. Give me this. We’ll go anywhere you want.”
With that, he shoved his hand into his front pocket. When he pulled it out, he was holding a narrow, plain gold band. Molly sucked in a breath. It was, she knew, a wedding ring he must have bought for her sister.
“I didn’t know,” she whispered. The line “five golden rings” sang through her head, and she thought fervently that one ring would do. If only Dylan had bought it for her, and given it to her because he loved her as much as she loved him.
“There’s nothing to know,” he said. “I bought it, but then I never got around to asking her. Here, you take it. Bring me the ring when you’re ready. Deal?”
He laid the ring in the palm of her hand. Molly closed her fingers around it and stared at him.
“Merry Christmas, kid,” he said, then settled onto his motorcycle.
Molly stood there and watched him drive off. It didn’t matter that Dylan had bought the ring for Janet, that he’d actually wanted to marry her sister. It really didn’t matter that Janet had been stupid enough to break up with him before he could propose. Molly had the ring now. As soon as she was finished growing up, she was going to find him and go away with him. She was going to make him fall in love with her and they were going to live happily ever after. She had his promise. A wedding ring promise.
Chapter One (#ulink_7a8e3b17-6ddd-59a9-af14-b8c147de3583)
December 5th, fourteen years later.
“It’s easier in the movies,” Molly said as she leaned against the door frame and surveyed the mess that was her bedroom. In the movies or on television, when a character decided to escape from her life by packing up and leaving everything behind, there was an upswell of music, then the scene changed and she was on the road, or the plane or whatever. In real life, someone had to do the packing.
“As no one else seems to be volunteering, I guess that someone is me,” Molly murmured.
She looked at the open suitcase on her bed, at the piles of clothing scattered around. There was a notepad on her dresser that listed the things she had to do before she could go. Stop the paper and the mail, check that her bills were paid. At least she didn’t have a pet to worry about.
There was also the small issue of deciding where she wanted to go. Running away would be easier if she had a destination in mind. But right now, all she wanted was to get away—to leave and never come back. Unfortunately, that wasn’t an option.
She crossed to the bed and picked up a sweater. It was early December in Southern California, which meant warm, sunny days and cool nights. She tossed the sweater into the suitcase. Jeans were necessary, but did she need a dress? A dress or even a skirt and blouse meant uncomfortable shoes, which were more than she wanted to deal with. Then there was the whole issue of the right purse and—
Molly swore under her breath. “None of this is important,” she told herself. “Just go.” She could feel the tears forming, tears that she’d promised herself she wouldn’t be crying again. It wasn’t supposed to keep hurting, but it did. If only she could forget. If only there were something she could do to fall asleep for the next couple of weeks until everything had been resolved.
She shook her head. It was going to take more than two weeks, she reminded herself. It could take months. So a year from now she would be fine, right?
She didn’t have the answer. No one did. She sucked in a deep breath. She was strong and tough and she wasn’t going to let the situation get her down. After squaring her shoulders, she crossed to her dresser and tugged out her lingerie drawer. She then returned to the bed and dumped the entire contents into her suitcase. If she couldn’t decide what to take, she would take everything. That made life simpler.
She dropped the empty drawer onto the carpet and began quickly sorting through panties and bras. As she picked up a plain cotton sports bra, one of several she’d purchased recently, something caught her eye. A glint of light...a flash.
Molly fished around in the tangle of elastic and lace. As she pushed aside garments, the small object fell into a corner of the suitcase. She grabbed it and pulled it out.
For the first time in ten days, Molly smiled. She rubbed her thumb over the gold ring. Dylan’s ring—the one he’d meant for her sister but had instead given her. It had been forever. Years. She sank onto the mattress. Whatever had happened to him? He’d ridden out of her life and disappeared, just like one of those western heroes she loved in the movies. Only instead of a trusty horse, Dylan had been astride his motorcycle.
That Christmas had been the loneliest of her life. Janet had been away on her honeymoon, leaving Molly alone with their parents, who had always been distant at best. She’d told Dylan that no one should be alone at Christmas, but she learned that year that you could be painfully lonely even when you weren’t by yourself.
She wondered where he was today. Did he still possess the same magic? There was a time when being close to Dylan had been enough to make her world right. She’d thought he was the most handsome, perfect male on the planet. She remembered how unattractive she’d been then, with her bad skin and braces, and winced. But Dylan had always had time for her. He’d made her feel special, and she would never forget him.
She slid the ring onto the third finger of her right hand. No doubt he was still breaking hearts at an alarming rate. Or maybe he’d grown up, like the rest of them, and was just some middle-aged guy with a wife, two kids and a mortgage. She tried to picture him driving a sensible sedan, but her imagination failed her. In her mind, Dylan would always be young and handsome, a dangerous rebel in black leather and boots.
Leaving the ring in place on her finger, she returned to her packing. She was folding a sensible long-sleeved cotton shirt when the phone rang. She knew who it was before she answered.
“I’m fine,” she said as she picked up the receiver and cradled it between her shoulder and her neck.
“I could have been a salesperson,” Janet said. “Then you would have felt really foolish.”
“Nope, there was a definite ‘Janet’ sound to the ring. I knew it was you.” She tossed the shirt into the suitcase, then sank onto the floor. “Seriously, I’m fine.”
Janet sighed. The sound carried clearly down the length of the state. Janet and her husband, Thomas, lived in northern California, in Mill Valley, near San Francisco. “I don’t believe you, Molly. And I’m worried. I know you tell me not to be, but I can’t help it. You’re my sister and I love you.”
Molly pulled her knees to her chest. “I appreciate that and I love you, too. I couldn’t have gotten through this without you. But you’ve gotta trust me. I’m doing okay.” It was a small lie that shouldn’t count at all.
“I considered coming down and spending a week or so with you. Until...you know.”
Molly thought about Janet staying in her small condo and fussing over her. Actually, the idea had merit. She and her sister hadn’t gotten along while they were growing up—a situation, they’d come to realize, that had been encouraged by their mother. But once Janet had married and moved away, the sisters had discovered they had more in common than they’d first thought and over the past ten years or so they’d developed a close, loving bond.
“As appealing as that sounds,” Molly said, “you’ve got three kids and I know my nieces would never forgive me if I took their mom away from them, especially over the holidays. And to be completely honest, you miss Thomas when you’re not with him. By day three, you’re a whining mass of helpless jelly. You’d get on my nerves.”
Molly said it lightly, partially because it was true and partially because she was afraid she and Janet would do nothing but cry for the week. She needed a distraction more than she needed sympathy.
“Besides,” she added, “I’m going away.”
“You’re right about the girls missing me, and how I get when I’m not with Thomas. Getting away is a good idea. Come see us. You know we’d love to have you. We missed you over Thanksgiving.”
“I want to,” Molly said slowly. Oh, how she wanted to. Her sister and brother-in-law would pamper her, and the girls would help her forget. Family was healing. But... “I need a complete change of scene. I haven’t decided where I’m going, but I’ll let you know when I get there.”
“I don’t know whether I should push you into coming here or let you do what you want.”
“You bossed me around enough when we were kids, so I think you should give me a break now. Besides, I’ll be there for your anniversary and for Christmas, like always. I just need to get away for a couple weeks first.”
Janet sighed again. “Fair enough. I’ll trust you to know what’s best. I’m just so frustrated. I want to do something.”
“Tell me about it.” Molly tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. As she brought her hand down, she noticed the ring on her finger. “Janet, do you remember Dylan Black?”
Her sister laughed. “There’s a change in subject. Of course. He’s the bad boy from my past. Dark and dangerous and so completely wrong for me. Thank goodness Thomas came along and rescued me from myself. I haven’t thought of him in years. Why do you ask?”
“When I was packing, I found the ring he gave me. The wedding ring he bought you. I still have it, and finding it made me think of him.”
“Let me see. He was at the ten-year high school reunion, although that was nearly five years ago. He has a custom motorcycle design firm in Riverside. Black something, I can’t remember. The rumors were, he was doing well for himself.”
“Interesting,” Molly said, and changed the subject. They talked for a few more minutes, then Molly again promised she would think seriously about joining Janet and her family up north. If she didn’t do that, she would at least let them know where she was going to be.
After the phone call, it took her another half hour to finish packing. Then Molly moved the suitcase into the living room, sat on her sofa and stared at the bag. Now what? Where did she go? She wanted to escape from her life for a week or two, to be in a place where she could forget what had happened, while trying to figure out what she wanted to do with her future.
A cruise? A train trip to New York? Maybe she could go to Acapulco and stay drunk for a week. Of course, one margarita made her silly, while two knocked her on her butt for the rest of the evening, so staying drunk would be virtually impossible. She needed a plan.
Her gaze fell on the ring. She turned her hand to make the gold glimmer. Even after all this time, she could still remember the thrill of that moment, when Dylan had given her the ring. Of course, he hadn’t meant it as a romantic gesture at all. It had been his way of letting her know that he hadn’t forgotten his promise to her. That one day when she was grown up, the two of them would take off on an adventure. It seemed like a lifetime ago.
As Molly stared at the ring, an idea took hold. It was silly and foolish. She would be completely insane if she did it. After all, it had been years. He wouldn’t even remember her, would he?
She rose to her feet. “It’s a start,” she whispered to herself. “A place to go in the morning.” And she needed that more than anything. The rest of it didn’t matter.
She would do this one crazy thing and visit Dylan Black, then she would go on from there. At least going to see him would give her journey a beginning. Maybe after that, she would head up north to stay with her sister. It didn’t matter. All that she wanted was to run away so she could finally forget.
* * *
Dylan Black slammed down the phone and glared at it.
Evie, his assistant, raised her dark eyebrows.
“Destroying the office equipment doesn’t seem overly productive to me, but then, I’m just the hired help.”
Dylan leaned back in his chair. “Tell me about it.” He looked at her. “They’re making the deal too hard to resist. I can’t decide if I’m moving forward or selling my soul to the devil.”
“If they’re the devil, his prices have gone up. Most people I know would sell their souls for a lot less than several million dollars.”
Dylan had to agree. But then, many people put much too low a price on their souls. He wasn’t stupid. He knew exactly why they were tempting him—they wanted what he had. For them, this was a win-win situation. But what was it for him?
Evie shook her head. “You’ve got that pensive look about you. I hate it when you get like that, so I’m going to head back to the front office. If you need anything, buzz me.”
“I will, thanks.”
She closed the door behind her.
Dylan turned his chair until he was staring out the window. The rugged, dry wilderness of the California desert stretched out behind the one-story complex. His critics said that establishing his custom motorcycle design firm, Black Lightning, out in the middle of Riverside had been a huge mistake. But the land had been cheap, there was a good labor pool and Dylan had wanted plenty of open space around him. It got hot as hell in the summer and he was nearly two hours from the Los Angeles International Airport, but all that was a small price to pay for autonomy. He’d poured everything he had into the company. In less than five years, he’d proved his critics wrong. Now he was touted as a visionary in the industry—the magician who set the trends. So why was he thinking of selling out?
He already knew the reason, and it had nothing to do with magic or even the devil. He was willing to sell his company because the deal on the table was too sweet to pass up. Not only was he being offered an obscene amount of money, but he had a guaranteed position in the new firm. He would finally have the resources to do all the research he wanted. He could design to his heart’s content. All those projects that had been on the back burner could finally be explored. He would be a fool to pass up the offer.
Except for one detail. Along with the money and the new job offer came a boss to answer to. Dylan knew himself well enough to realize that would be a problem. The question was how big of one and could he live with the consequences? He would gain resources and lose control of Black Lightning. His lawyer had been on his back for weeks. After all, this was the chance of a lifetime.
But his gut kept whispering that he had to wait and think this through. After all, he’d been the one to work twenty-hour days for all those years. The innovative designs were his. He’d taken the bikes on the racing circuit, sometimes giving them to riders so that new systems could be tested under the most grueling conditions. He’d poured himself into the company. How could he sell that? It would be like selling an arm or a leg.
Money versus principles. An age-old dilemma. Philosophers had been discussing that issue back when the earth’s crust was still cooling. So which was it to be?
This would, he admitted, be a whole lot easier if he wasn’t so much of a cynic. Years ago, when he’d still been a dreamer, he would have been insulted by the implication that he could be bought. If his then lawyer had even hinted at a buyout, Dylan would have shown him the door, then fired his corporate ass. When had life ceased to be so simple?
“The hell with it,” he muttered, figuring he didn’t have to decide right now. The interested company had given him until December 23rd to set up a preliminary meeting. If he still refused by Christmas, they were withdrawing their offer. So he would wait until something changed, until he knew which side to fall on. In the meantime, there were reports to review.
He turned back to his computer, then started tapping on keys. He’d just lost himself in the quarterly statements, when Evie buzzed him on the intercom.
“You have a visitor,” she said. “Molly Anderson. She doesn’t have an appointment, Dylan, but she says you’ll remember her from several years ago.”
It took him a second, then the memories clicked in place. Little Molly, Janet’s baby sister. He did remember her, with her pale, curly hair and big eyes. She’d been a sweet kid. He recalled she’d had a crush on him. Usually that kind of stuff annoyed him, but in Molly’s case he’d been flattered. Maybe because in her case he’d known exactly what she’d wanted from him. She’d been easy to read, and had had a basically good heart. He couldn’t say that about many people these days.
“Send her in,” he said.
He rose to his feet and crossed the room. By the time Evie opened his office door, he was there to welcome Molly. He had his arm extended and his smile ready. But the woman who stepped into the office wasn’t the teenager he remembered.
She was still on the short side, maybe five foot four. Her curly hair had grown longer and she’d tamed it in a braid. Light makeup accentuated her large hazel brown eyes. He remembered she’d had bad skin as a kid, but time had changed that and now her cheeks glowed with natural color. Her smile was bright, her walk confident. A long-sleeved shirt and jeans accentuated a body that was generously curvy.
“Miss Anderson,” Evie said, and left them alone.
“Little Molly’s all grown up,” he said, amazed she was here.
The woman in front of him nodded.
“I haven’t been called that in a long time. I guess you’re surprised to see me.”
“I am. Pleasantly.” He decided a handshake wasn’t right for the situation. After all, this was Molly. He held out his arms. “For old times’ sake?”
She came the half step forward and he embraced her. She was warm and cushioned, and holding her wasn’t halfbad. But she seemed a little stiff and awkward, so he moved away and motioned for her to take a seat on the leather sofa placed in the corner of his office. Then he crossed to the wet bar by the bookcases.
“Soda? Wine?”
She shook her head. “No, thanks.”
He settled next to her and rested one booted ankle on the opposite knee. He didn’t have many unexpected visitors, and certainly not any blasts from his past. The intrusion didn’t bother him. If anything, he was curious. “What brings you out here?”
She sat with her hands in her lap, her fingers twisting together. “I’m not sure. I guess it was an impulse on my part. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all. It’s been years.”
She nodded. “Fourteen. Not that I’ve been keeping track.”
“You’ve grown up. You were always an adorable kid, but now you’re a lovely woman.” The line sounded smooth and sincere. Lines had always been easy for him.
She laughed. “And you’re still as charming as ever. The truth is, I was homely, but I’ve improved some. I’ll never be a cover model, but I’m okay with that.”
He studied her. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d thought about Molly, or even Janet, who at one time had been the love of his life, or so it had seemed when he was twenty.
She angled toward him. “I was talking with my sister and your name came up. I wondered how you were doing and I was heading out this way, so I thought I’d stop by. Is that too weird?”
“Not at all. I’m glad you did. So tell me about Molly Anderson. You’re still using the same last name, so either you’re not married or you’re modern and independent, refusing to be shackled by society’s expectations.”
She gave him a smile that didn’t seem to reach her eyes. “Not married. Let’s see. I have a degree in accounting and I’ve been working as an accounts receivable supervisor for a telecommunications company in Mischief Bay. I have the usual habits, both good and bad. I hear you’re doing well.”
He motioned to the office. “I design motorcycles. I didn’t know I could make a living at something I love, so I’m generally happy.”
Except for right now, he conceded, but he wasn’t going to think about the decisions he had to make. Molly was an unexpected and surprisingly delightful distraction. He was suddenly pleased she’d looked him up.
He glanced at his watch. It was nearly noon. “If you have time,” he said, “I’d love to take you to lunch. There’s a great place about a mile down the road. Not much to look at, but they have the best hamburgers in the county.” He grinned. “We can catch up with each other’s lives, and I won’t even make you ride on a motorcycle to get there.”
“Sounds great,” she said.
Thirty minutes later they were in a window booth of the restaurant. Santa Claus, painted on the glass beside them, ate a cheeseburger while Rudolph looked on, licking his lips. The waitress had already brought them drinks and taken their order. Carols played softly in the background, and it was early enough in the season that they hadn’t grown annoying yet. Molly was working her way through a margarita, while Dylan sipped his beer. He didn’t usually drink in the middle of the day and he still had lots of work waiting for him back at the office, but he’d joined her when she’d ordered her drink.
As he watched Molly, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. Something about the way she kept glancing at him made him wonder why she’d come to see him. Her body was stiff, as if she were uncomfortable. She’d dodged all but his most basic questions, as though she didn’t want to talk about her personal life.
He felt the attention of the other patrons. The town was small enough that everyone knew everyone else, if not by name then by sight. He didn’t bring many women to this place, and those he did bring were nothing like Molly. He had a definite type—leggy and brunette. He’d formed a fondness for that kind of woman when he’d dated Molly’s sister, Janet.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Molly said.
Dylan shook his head. “I doubt that.”
“You’re wondering why I’m here. I mean, I’m sure it’s nice to see me and all, but what do I want?”
Good guess on her part. Possibilities flashed through his mind. Money? A job? Sperm? The last thought almost made him smile. It didn’t matter how many years had gone by—there was no way he could imagine little Molly asking anyone for sperm.
“Actually, I do want something,” she said, and reached for her purse. She dug around inside and pulled out a small item, then tossed it on the table. “Sort of.”
Dylan hadn’t known what to expect, but he was stunned when he saw a gold wedding band lying on the dark wood. “This is so sudden,” he said, going for the joke because he wasn’t sure what to say.
“It’s not what you think,” Molly told him.
“Good, because I don’t know what to think.”
“Do you remember the ring?”
He picked it up. “Of course.” He’d only ever bought one wedding ring in his life. It had been for Janet, back when he’d known that if he had to try to go on without her, he would die. Obviously, he’d been wrong. Time was a great healer. So were life’s lessons.
“I got it for your sister,” he said.
“Then you gave it to me, the day she got married.”
He nodded. Thinking that actually seeing part of the ceremony would heal the last of his wounds, he’d gone to the church. Molly had come out to tell him goodbye. He recalled tossing her the ring, but he couldn’t remember why.
She drew in a deep breath. “I didn’t want you to go. There were assorted reasons, but the only one I was willing to tell you was that you’d promised me an adventure when I grew up. So you handed me the ring and said that when I was ready for that adventure, I was to bring this to you.” She cleared her throat. Color stained her cheeks, and she ducked her head so that she was staring at the table. “Well, I’m ready if you’re still willing.”
Chapter Two (#ulink_7f65d646-86ea-50eb-9f1e-4a3c2ebed228)
Molly felt as though someone had installed a blender in her stomach. As if the almost violent sloshing and churning weren’t enough, she had the horrible feeling she was going to throw up. Now that would be a pleasant visual for Dylan to remember.
Nerves, she told herself. It was just nerves. That and tequila on a very empty stomach. Whatever had she been thinking? The problem was, of course, she hadn’t been thinking. She hadn’t allowed herself, because no normal, sane person would have asked Dylan what she’d just asked him. She wouldn’t be surprised if he excused himself and called 911—asking that they bring those people in the white coats.
She forced herself to look at the way his dark eyes had widened slightly. He didn’t exactly look ready to bolt, which was very nice, considering. She doubted she would have been as polite in his position.
She cleared her throat. “If it makes you feel any better, I can’t believe I said that.”
“So we have something in common.”
At least he hadn’t lost his sense of humor. “Okay, it’s crazy—I admit that. You probably think I’m crazy, too. Maybe I am, but don’t worry, I’m not dangerous.”
He rested the ring in the palm of his hand and stared at it. Molly found her gaze drawn to the row of calluses at the base of his fingers. He’d obviously spent a lot of time doing physical labor. She had a feeling that the first few years he was in business, he’d done most of the assembling himself. Probably late at night, alone in a warehouse somewhere. Dylan had always been determined and driven. She doubted that had changed. He wasn’t the sort of man who gave in easily, nor did he get to be as successful as he obviously was by listening to harebrained schemes. He was going to tell her no.
She turned that thought over in her mind. She was surprisingly okay with it. It was enough that she’d asked. For once, she’d taken the initiative—she hadn’t waited. She’d gone after something that was important to her. Maybe there was hope. A sense of pride filled her and she squared her shoulders. This was a tiny step toward the new life she wanted for herself.
“Here you go,” the waitress said, placing huge platters with oversized burgers and a mountain of crisp, golden steak fries in front of each of them. She pulled bottles of catsup and mustard out of one apron pocket and a handful of extra paper napkins out of the other. “Enjoy.” She gave them a broad smile and left.
The food smelled great. Molly’s stomach growled in anticipation, but she wasn’t sure she was going to be able to choke down a bite.
Dylan applied mustard to the inside of the top of the bun, then settled the bread in place. But he made no move to pick up his burger. He raised his gaze to her face.
“Why?” he asked.
She knew she could pretend not to understand what he was asking, but that was too much like cheating. Why? A simple question. Unfortunately, she didn’t have a simple answer. At least not one she was willing to share with him. It was too personal and too humiliating. But he did deserve an explanation of some kind.
She took the mustard and shook out a dollop, then smoothed it on the toasted top bun. “I’ve reached an impasse in my life. There are a lot of things I have to think about, some decisions that have to be made. I can’t seem to focus on anything, so I decided to get away. I go to Janet’s every year for Christmas, but I didn’t want to disrupt her family for two whole weeks beforehand. I had no idea what to do or where to go.”
“There’s always the North Pole,” he said.
She gave him a half smile. Her lips were still a little numb from the margarita. “I suppose, but I think I’m a bit old to run away to the North Pole. Besides, I’ve never been that fond of penguins. They scare me.”
“Pretty sure they live at the South Pole,” he said.
“Polar bears, then.” She picked up her burger, then set it back on the plate. “As I said, I hadn’t decided where to go, but I figured inspiration would come to me, so I started packing. While I was going through my drawers, I found the ring. It gave me an idea, so here I am.”
If the truth be told, she was starting to be a little sorry she’d given in to the impulse. What on earth had she been thinking? She supposed she actually hadn’t been thinking at all. “I’ve already confessed that it was crazy. I don’t usually give in to impulses, so I can’t explain this one. I guess I shouldn’t have come. I’m sorry, Dylan. Forget I ever said anything. I’m sure you’re as busy as everyone is over the holiday season.”
She pushed the plate away and wondered how she could make a graceful exit. After all, they’d driven to the restaurant in Dylan’s sleek, expensive car. Even if it wasn’t too far to walk back, she didn’t have a clue where his office was.
He picked up a steak fry and ate it. “I haven’t said no yet.”
She felt her eyes widen. “You can’t be considering what I’m asking.”
“I might be.” He grinned.
This smile was different from the one he’d given her when he’d first seen her. That one had been pleasant and welcoming, but more impersonal. This one was a thousand watts of male trouble in the making. She felt the heat clear down to her toes. She was sure that if she looked, she would see little puffs of smoke drifting out of her loafers.
“You realize if you even consider doing this you’re crazy, too,” she said.
“It won’t be the first time someone has called me that.” He took a bite of his burger and chewed. Molly told herself to stop staring, but she couldn’t seem to make her eyes behave. Some of her sadness and fear lifted. It was enough that he hadn’t flat-out refused her. No matter what, she would remember this brief time, and when reality got too ugly, she would pull out this memory to make her smile.
Sunlight filtered into the restaurant through the painted window. A sunbeam illuminated Dylan like a spotlight on a movie set. He was handsome enough to be the leading man, she thought, pleased that although he’d matured, he still looked as wonderful and perfect as ever. There was something very pleasant about spending a few hours in the presence of a good-looking man. It didn’t matter that they were physically mismatched or that she wasn’t even close to being his type. This wasn’t about wanting him in the way she had when she’d just been fourteen and deeply enamored with all things Dylan.
Aesthetically, he appealed to her. The dark hair, worn short—not even to his collar. Years before, it had touched his shoulders. She decided she liked the more conservative style better. His eyes were as she remembered, although there were a few faint lines in the corners. His mouth was firm, his jaw well shaped. The gold earring was gone. He’d filled out a little. From the hints of movement under his dress shirt and suit slacks, he was in the same great shape as before. He was still the most amazing man she’d ever met.
He had a confidence about him that spoke of his power. It was probably for the best that they didn’t go away together. After all, she doubted her hormones were any more controllable than they had been fourteen years earlier. The last thing she needed in her life was to deal with having a crush on him. It would be silly.
A voice in her head whispered that right now she could use a little silliness, but she ignored the words.
Maybe they could skip the trip and simply fall into bed together. A night of great sex would clear her sinuses for a month.
Molly picked up her drink and took another sip. What was wrong with her? She knew better than to wish for the moon. Men like Dylan Black were interested in women like her sister. They wanted leggy, slender females with model-perfect faces. She was not that.
Some people thought her wavy-curly hair was unusual, but she thought it was a pain, which is why she usually tied it back in a braid. Her hazel brown eyes were what she referred to as the color of “rain-washed mud.” She had a decent smile, even though her mouth was too small. Her nose was too big, but her ears were cute. Her skin was clear now—adolescence had not been good for her skin. Then there was the matter of those twenty pounds she’d been trying to lose since she was born. In a world of size-eight beauties, she was a frumpy size twelve.
“You’re looking fierce about something,” Dylan said.
“It’s not important.”
His good humor faded. “Are you in trouble, Molly? Are you on the run from something?”
She was, but not in the way he meant the question. Besides, she wasn’t about to explain about all that.
“If you’re asking if I’ve committed a felony, the answer is no,” she told him. “I am on the run, but only from myself. I haven’t done anything wrong.” And that was part of the problem, she thought. If only she had a few regrets about things she’d done, rather than wasting all her regret on what she’d never gotten around to doing. “I just wanted to get away.”
Which she was still going to do, regardless of what he said. She put down her margarita and leaned toward him. “Haven’t you ever felt the world closing in on you? It’s like no matter where you turn or what you do, there’s no escape. It feels like nothing is changing or is ever going to, yet the reality is that nothing is the same.” She shrugged. “I know I’m not making any sense.”
Dylan stared at her. “You would be surprised at how much sense you are making.”
“I just want to run away for a few days,” she continued. “A week or two, tops. I want a chance to clear my head, to think things through.” She gave him another half smile. “Maybe I’ll get lucky and figure out a way to be someone else.”
“Who would you want to be?”
“Anybody but me.”
“Why is it so bad being Molly Anderson?”
Ah, more questions she would not answer. “You’re going to have to trust me on that one, Dylan. It just is.”
They sat in silence for a few minutes. Molly thought about eating a French fry, but she really wasn’t hungry. It must be the nerves. Gee, if she kept this up for a few months, she might lose those twenty pounds.
“Your timing is interesting,” Dylan said, and leaned back in the booth. He picked up his bottle of beer and took a sip.
“In what way?” she asked.
“I’m wrestling with some difficult decisions myself. Mostly about my business.” He made a dismissive gesture with his hand. “I won’t bore you with the details, but for many reasons, I’m at a crossroads right now, too.”
His dark gaze was intense. She felt as if he were staring into her soul. She wanted to look away because she knew he wouldn’t find a whole lot there to impress him. She wished she were someone different, someone wonderful and interesting, so that a man like Dylan would want her. But she knew the truth. She was just Molly—bright but not brilliant, nice, sometimes funny. She wasn’t wildly attractive, or witty, or charming, or any of those things that usually drew men like him. She was, at best, ordinary.
If only she were beautiful, like Janet. Or skinny, again like Janet. She bit back a smile. If Janet were here, she would tease her sister about being way too annoying to love. Her humor faded as she thought about how wonderful her sister had been through all this. Molly was so grateful they’d finally come to terms with their relationship and that they were close.
“What did you have in mind for your adventure?” Dylan asked.
If Molly had been drinking at that moment, she would have spit across the table. As it was, she could only stare at him in wide-eyed shock. “Excuse me?”
“Your adventure.” He picked up the ring and held it out. “That’s why you’re here. What did you want to do?”
Had she suddenly lost her hearing, or had Dylan really asked that question? Was he serious about this?
Molly opened her mouth, then closed it. Her mind stayed blank. “You’re agreeing?”
“I’m considering. There’s a difference. I want to know what you had in mind.”
Molly shifted in her seat, torn between wild excitement and bone-numbing trepidation. It was one thing to think about an adventure with Dylan—fantasies were fun and safe. But this was real life. Was she actually willing to go away with him? After all, she hadn’t seen him in fourteen years. He was a stranger. She would be insane—
She sucked in a deep breath. No, she wasn’t insane. She knew about his basic character. She’d promised herself no more regrets. She already had too many to live with.
“I didn’t have any place in mind,” she told him honestly. “I don’t care where I go or what I do. I just want to be away. My only stipulation is that I have to have a cell signal. I’ll need to check my messages every day.”
“Let me guess. You’re trying to make a boyfriend jealous. You want to scare him into proposing at Christmas.”
If his statement hadn’t been so painfully far from the truth, she might have laughed. “It’s not that. I’m not currently seeing anyone, and even if I were, that’s not my style. I’ve never been very good at those kinds of reindeer games.”
“Good. I didn’t think so, but I had to ask.” His gaze sharpened. “I’m trying to figure out how much of the Molly I remember is hiding in there.”
“Enough. I’ve grown up, but I don’t think I’ve changed that much.”
He still had the ability to make her heart pound, although she wasn’t going to share that particular fact with him.
“Two weeks,” he said without warning. “I could take off that much time. I’ll choose the first place we go to, then you can pick activities once we’re there. We’ll negotiate for the destinations after that.”
He paused expectantly. Molly could only look at him as she tried to absorb what he was saying. Had she really heard him correctly? Her heart pounded, but for the first time in weeks, it wasn’t from fear but from excitement.
“Okay,” she said cautiously, not sure if he was actually telling her he was agreeing or he was simply tossing ideas around.
Oh, but she wanted it to be true. Dylan had always been her fantasy. They had both changed and matured and she seriously doubted if she still had a crush on him. But she would really like the opportunity to find out how the grown man was different from the man-boy she remembered.
“We’ll have separate rooms and split expenses fifty-fifty,” he said. “Agreed?”
Molly had to resist the urge to roll her eyes. No doubt the poor guy was terrified she was going to come on to him the moment they were alone. She sighed. It made sense. After all, she had had a serious crush on him all those years ago and he was still incredibly gorgeous. However, she would do what she could to control her wayward self in his presence.
For a moment, she allowed herself to believe that his statement about separate rooms was made in order to make her feel safe. If only it were true. If only Dylan would look at her and find her attractive. But she knew about wishing after the moon. All it ever got anyone was a crick in the neck.
“That sounds fair,” she agreed.
“Then I guess that’s it,” he said. “Do we have a deal?”
“You’re willing to do it?” Molly asked, then felt instantly foolish. But she wanted to be sure. “We’re really going to take an adventure together?”
“I’m game if you are.”
Be careful what you wish for, a voice in her head whispered. She dismissed it and smiled. “I’m already packed.”
“Great.” He held out his hand. “Let’s shake to seal the deal.”
His long fingers engulfed hers. Heat flared between them, warming her from the inside out. She felt a faint tingling rippling through her body, and she didn’t care that her reactions were the result of a drink on top of no food, or even remnants from her crush all those years ago. She didn’t mind that she was the only one having all the reactions. It was enough that Dylan had agreed.
When he released his hand, he picked up his burger. “I’ll need the rest of today and most of the morning to get my business affairs in order. We could take off just after noon tomorrow, if that’s all right with you.”
Molly was suddenly starved. She poured more mustard on her bun, then smoothed the bright yellow sauce in place. “That’s great. I’m ready to go anytime, and I don’t have anywhere to be until the 22nd. If you’ll give me your phone number, I’ll call and let you know where I’m staying tonight.”
He swallowed his food. “You can stay with me.” He grinned. “I have a huge house up on one of the hills. I fell in love with the view, but the place is way too big for me. There are five bedrooms, and a couple are made up for guests.”
Molly hesitated. “I wouldn’t want to intrude.” The truth was, she was uncomfortable at the thought of staying with him under any circumstances. Being at Dylan’s house would be so intimate.
“I see. You’re willing to go away with me, but you won’t spend the night at my house? That makes sense.”
“Oh.” He had a point. She felt herself flushing. “I guess you’re right. Then thanks, I’d love to stay.” If nothing else, she would enjoy getting a peek into his world. What would his house look like? Did he—
She was about to take a bite of her burger, but she stopped suddenly and set the food back on her plate. Her mouth got dry as realization flooded her. “I never thought to ask,” she stammered. “You’re not married or anything, are you? It doesn’t matter as far as the travel, but I don’t want to get in the way or cause trouble.”
Actually, she was lying. If Dylan was married, she wouldn’t want to go away with him, but saying that would sound too weird, as if she had some secret romantic agenda.
“If I was married, I wouldn’t have agreed,” he said. “I’m between women at the moment, so no explanations are required. You don’t have to worry, kid—I live in a normal house. You won’t find anything scary lurking in the closets.”
His teasing smile was like a sucker punch to her belly. She was not relieved that he wasn’t married and she was not going to fall for him. Not Dylan, no way. She knew better.
That out of the way, they finished eating. When they were done, Dylan snagged a clean paper napkin from the passing waitress and drew Molly a map.
“This is the shop,” he said, motioning to a small box he’d made on the napkin. “The route to the house looks complicated, but once you’re on the road it’s pretty easy. Most of the time there’s only one way to turn.”
He explained the intricacies, then pulled his key chain out of his pants pocket and took one key off the ring.
“This is it,” he said, handing it to her. “I’m trusting you not to run off with the family silver.”
She closed her hand around the small bit of metal. It was still warm from his body. “I appreciate this, Dylan,” she said. “Both your willingness to come with me and the trust. I won’t let you down.”
He shrugged. “If I thought you were going to, I wouldn’t give you the chance. Besides, I saw that little car you drive. I could hunt you down in a heartbeat.”
“I’m sure you could.”
She studied his broad shoulders, which nearly stretched out the seams of his dress shirt. He was powerfully built. What would it be like to be so strong that you never had to worry about being physically afraid? It was, she decided, something men took for granted.
“You ready to go?” he said, preparing to slide out of the booth.
She frowned. “We haven’t paid the check.”
“They automatically put it on my tab. I pay it monthly.”
“What happened to splitting all expenses equally?”
He paused. “Young lady, you have a point. You also owe me ten bucks.”
She laughed. “That’s better.” She extracted the bill from her wallet and handed it to him.
Outside, the sky was clear. When she drove through L.A., it had been hazy, with a combination of low clouds and smog. Beyond the restaurant, there were only open areas. The city of Riverside was a sprawling, mostly rural town, while the county itself stretched all the way to Arizona. She felt as if she were a thousand miles from home, instead of only seventy miles away.
“We’ll go back to the office so you can collect your car,” he said as he opened the passenger door of his Mercedes. “Then you can head up to the house and relax for the afternoon. If you’re a typical female, we’re going to have a talk about packing.”
“I resent the implication,” she said, trying not to think about the huge suitcase filling her trunk.
“I’m going to give you one duffel bag and that’s all you get.”
“You’re not turning into a tyrant on me, are you?” she asked, not sure where he was going with this. Why on earth would it matter how many suitcases she brought and why would he want her to use one of his?
“I’m being practical.” He touched the tip of her nose and grinned. “We’re not taking a car on our adventure. We’ll be riding on one of my bikes.”
Her brain instantly provided a picture of a bicycle and she opened her mouth to protest. What on earth was he thinking? Then she remembered...this was Dylan. All bad boy and black leather on a motorcycle.
Her eyes got wide, and the image was so powerful she couldn’t speak. Then all she could do was laugh in sheer delight.
* * *
Dylan watched Molly drive away, then he turned back toward his building. As the sound of her car faded, he told himself to go inside, that a thousand things needed doing. Yet he stood there, staring at the brown hills and dry desert land.
He couldn’t believe he’d given a strange woman the key to his house and blithely let her go there on her own. Even Molly had been surprised by his blind trust. What had he been thinking?
The truth was, he hadn’t been thinking at all. His gut had said it was okay to trust Molly, and so he had. Weird, considering he never trusted anyone. What was it about her? Their past? Or maybe it was the vulnerability in her eyes. Something that called to him, begging for protection or comfort.
Slow down, guy, he told himself. He knew better than to create fantasies about women. They were only out for what they could get from a man, be it a good time in bed or a lifetime of financial support. Life had taught him that lesson well.
Which made his reasons for trusting Molly even more suspect. Except that he didn’t believe she wanted anything from him. He couldn’t say how or why this was true, but he’d acted as if it was. Maybe old age was making him senile. Reality was everybody wanted something, even Molly.
His admittedly cynical philosophy firmly back in place, he walked inside the building. Evie sat at her desk, her dark eyes wide with curiosity.
“Well?” she asked, making no pretense at being subtle. “Who is she and what did she want?”
Dylan leaned against her desk. “An old friend. I knew her years ago. I dated her older sister.”
“Oh, that explains it.” Evie wrinkled her nose. “I’m sure she’s a nice person and all, but she’s not your type. I mean the hair is curly and she’s probably pretty when it’s down, but she’s real ordinary looking.”
Dylan straightened. “She’s not ordinary,” he said, irritation adding strength to his voice. “Janet was always the pretty one in the family, but Molly has a lot of nice features.” He drew his eyebrows together and waited for Evie to contradict him. He didn’t want to even think about why he felt the need to defend Molly. Maybe because she was one of those people who were good on the inside. So what if she wasn’t traditionally beautiful—she had other qualities he admired.
“My mistake,” Evie said, raising her hands in a gesture of surrender. “I was just a little surprised—that’s all. You usually go for the model type. I think it’s great you’re looking for substance rather than flash.”
“I’m not looking for anything,” he growled. “We’re friends. Nothing more.”
“I knew that,” Evie said. She shifted uncomfortably. “I’m sorry if I said something I shouldn’t have.”
Dylan shook his head. “No, it’s my fault. I’m—” What? What was wrong with him? Why did everything suddenly seem off? “I’ll be in my office,” he told her, and headed for the back of the building.
He was getting soft. That must be it. Good thing he was going away. He would use the time to clear his head.
As he settled down to work, he noticed a faint sensation low in his gut. After a few minutes, he was able to identify it as anticipation. He, who normally hated anything that pulled him away from work, was actually looking forward to taking time off.
Chapter Three (#ulink_d1512149-c4c6-5a5a-9bbf-10acec1c66a7)
There had been a mailbox with the house number at the bottom of the hill. As Molly shifted her car into first so it could climb the steep grade, she wondered if she’d made a mistake. Did Dylan really live up here?
When she rounded the last bend and saw the house sprawling in front of her, she became more convinced that she must have made a wrong turn somewhere. The structure was huge. All wood and glass. Its back end blended into the hill rising behind the house. The front overlooked the city and desert beyond. From where she’d stopped, she could see a four-car garage and what appeared to be part of a garden.
Molly sucked in a deep breath. This had to be the place. There had been only three other driveways on the street, and none of the numbers had even been close. She knew property was cheaper out here, but sheesh, she hadn’t expected a mansion. Looking at the impressive structure, she was glad she hadn’t known about it before. Otherwise, she never would have found the courage to approach him.
She pulled her car to the side, in front of one of the garage’s double doors, then turned off the engine. She decided to leave her suitcase in the trunk until she was absolutely sure this was the place. She moved up the walk and saw that the wide front door was decorated with a large, luxurious wreath. She paused. Dylan didn’t strike her as the wreath type. She extracted the key he’d given her. Here goes nothing, she thought.
The key turned easily. He’d told her there wasn’t an alarm to worry about, so she simply stepped inside.
The great room ceiling stretched up at least twenty feet. Huge windows brought in the light from outside, illuminating dark wood beams, white stucco walls and, near the hearth, the fanciest Christmas tree she’d ever seen. To get to it, she had to cross over a cobblestone bridge and indoor stream. A stream?
Molly blinked several times, but the flowing water didn’t go away. It continued to slide down a rock formation on her right, then under the bridge to a shallow pool on her left. Several fish swam through the clear pond.
What on earth had she gotten herself into?
As she approached the tree, what looked like millions of tiny white lights blinked to life. Motion detectors? On a Christmas tree?
Although the tree was beautiful, Molly thought, it struck her as a little formal. No colored lights, no homemade decorations. In fact, every decoration on the tree was white or gold, or some combination of the two. Porcelain angels frozen mid-song.
The furniture was oversized. Dark blue leather sofas, glass-topped tables and more windows. The view was spectacular. She turned in a slow circle, taking in the attractive floor lamps, the displayed artwork, the dining room beyond. She figured her entire condo would fit comfortably into the space occupied by these two rooms alone. And there was still plenty of house for her to see.
Nearly eleven years ago, when Janet had first thought about breaking up with Dylan, Molly remembered listening at the door as her sister had talked to their mother, trying to decide what to do. Janet had been concerned about their differences in lifestyle and expectations. Dylan had grown up on the poor side of town, in a single-wide trailer. All he’d seemed to care about was his bike and Janet. She’d wanted a man with ambition. At the time Molly had thought her sister was incredibly stupid. Ambition was all well and good, but they were talking about Dylan Black. He was worth ten lawyers or doctors.
As Molly continued to study the impressive room, she realized she’d been right. A smile pulled at her mouth. He’d come a long way from that ratty old trailer. Maybe, while they were away together, she could ask him to tell her the story of what had happened to bring him here.
She returned to her car and collected her suitcase, then went back inside. Dylan had described the basic layout of the house, telling her to make herself at home. By nature, she wasn’t much of a snoop, and even if she’d wanted to look around, this place was way too intimidating for her taste. So she didn’t poke her head in all the open doors along the hallway. Instead, she headed for the last door on the left, and found it led to a guest room, just as he’d promised.
The four-poster queen-sized bed was attractive, as was the plain pine furniture. The comforter was a floral print, with matching drapes at the windows. A few tasteful paintings decorated the cream-colored walls. Through a door on her left was a huge bathroom, complete with spa tub. Everything was perfectly clean. Dylan obviously had the use of a cleaning service. Or maybe someone came in a few days a week to tidy up.
She set her suitcase on the bed and opened it. Dylan had told her she would have to pack light for their adventure. After all, they were heading out on one of his motorcycles. A flicker of excitement tickled her tummy. She couldn’t believe she was actually going to do this. She, little Molly Anderson, was going away with Dylan Black. It was, she thought, a Christmas miracle of sorts. And lately miracles had been in short supply in her life.
She sorted through clothing, deciding that casual would be best. She settled on jeans, shirts and a few toiletries. An oversized cotton T-shirt would work as a nightgown.
Fifteen minutes later she’d stacked the clothes she was taking neatly on the dresser and had secured the rest of her things in her suitcase. She stared at the ring Dylan had given back to her. She felt strange taking it with her, but she wasn’t about to leave it behind, either. She shrugged, then grabbed a tissue from a ceramic container in the bathroom, wrapped the ring and tucked it in an inner pocket of her toiletry bag.
Molly glanced at her watch. She had a few hours before Dylan would be home. He’d told her about a library at the other end of the house. A good book would be a great distraction, but first she had to make a few phone calls. She pulled out her cell phone, settled on the bed, and checked to see if she had any messages.
None.
It was really too soon to expect an answer, she told herself silently, willing away the disappointment. But it was so hard not to hope. So hard not to want a miracle—just one more. Was that asking too much?
She dialed another number. The phone was picked up on the second ring. “Hello?”
“Hi, it’s me.”
“Molly!” Janet’s voice was warm and welcoming. “How are you? Or should I ask, where are you? You’ve left already, haven’t you?”
“Uh-huh. I’m—” Molly stared at the beautiful guest room and grinned. “You’ll never guess where I am.”
Her sister chuckled. “I hate playing guessing games. I’m lousy at them. You know that. Okay. Christmas shopping in New York City.”
“Nope. One more try, then I’ll tell you. But I’ll give you a hint. It’s warm and there’s a terrific view.”
“Oh, that’s easy. Hawaii. How great!” She hummed a few bars about a Hawaiian Christmas.
Molly laughed. “Sorry, Janet, you’re not even close. I’m in Dylan Black’s guest room.”
There was dead silence on the phone. Molly could picture her sister’s mouth dropping open. She would form words without sound for at least thirty seconds.
A sputtering came over the phone, followed by a squawk. “You’re where?”
“I know, I know. It’s too strange. But remember the ring I was talking about?”
“Of course. It was actually my ring.”
“You dumped him,” Molly reminded her. “When I found it, I remembered what he’d said about promising me an adventure. I couldn’t figure out where else to go, so here I am.”
“Honey, are you all right?” Janet’s voice was low with concern. “I know you had a crush on him and all, but this is very strange. It’s been years. You don’t know the man anymore. Are you sure this is safe?”
Molly thought about that for a second. “You’re not saying anything I haven’t already told myself. I know this sounds strange, and in a way it is. But I didn’t know what to do. If nothing else, Dylan is a fabulous distraction. And I need that right now.”
“He’s not a serial killer, is he? Not that he would tell you if he was.”
Molly glanced around the room. “I don’t think killing pays this well,” she told her sister. “His business is very successful. The house is great. Big and on the top of a hill.” A thought occurred to her. “Janet, are you mad because I’m here? Does it bother you?”
“If you’re asking whether I’m over Dylan, please don’t concern yourself. I’ve been over him for years. You know I love Thomas. It’s been fourteen years, and the thrill is still there for us. Dylan was my first serious boyfriend and I’ll always have fond memories of him, but it wouldn’t have worked. We both knew that.” Janet drew in a breath. “I’m sure he’s doing well, but he hasn’t changed, Molly. He’s still a dangerous kind of man. I don’t think he’s ever married. Maybe he’s not capable of that kind of commitment.”
Molly stared at the phone. “We’re taking an adventure, not getting involved.”
“Things happen. I just want you to take care of yourself. You’re in a vulnerable place right now. I don’t want him to hurt you.”
“You don’t have to worry. He would have to be slightly interested in me to hurt me and we both know that’s not going to happen.”
“Don’t,” Janet pleaded. “You’re adorable. Any man would be lucky to have you.”
Molly tugged at her jeans, pulling the fabric away from her generous thighs. “Uh-huh. I do have that problem with all those men lining up outside the condo. It was so difficult to get away this morning, but I try to be gentle when I reject them.”
“You’re a brat.”
“Just a minute ago you said I was adorable.”
Janet laughed. “Molly, you make me crazy. Were there any messages?”
Molly’s humor faded instantly. “No.”
“It’s really too soon to have heard.”
“I know.”
“Everything is fine.”
“I know that, too.” She knew it, but she didn’t believe it.
“So where are you two off to?”
“I have no idea,” Molly said. “Dylan is picking our destination.”
“Are you sure about this?”
“I’m not sure about anything, Janet. But if you’re asking me if I’m sure I want to go with Dylan, the answer is yes. There’s nothing I want more. I need to escape and he’s the perfect way to do that. So please try not to worry.”
“I won’t worry if you promise to stay in touch.”
“I will. I swear.”
Her sister sighed. “I love you, kid. Take care of yourself.”
“I love you, too. Give Thomas and the girls a kiss for me. Bye.”
She hung up the receiver. Without Janet’s support, she wouldn’t have gotten through the past week and a half. It was nice to have someone to worry about her. However, for the next few days she wasn’t going to think about that, or about anything but having a wonderful time on her adventure.
* * *
Dylan automatically hit the button on the remote that controlled the garage door. As he slowed, he saw Molly’s dark blue compact parked off to the side. That gave him pause. He wasn’t used to coming home to find someone in his house. In the two years he’d lived there, he’d had overnight company maybe three times. When he was involved with a woman, he generally stayed at her place. He preferred being able to leave when he liked and not having to ask her to go when he wanted to be alone.
He stared at the sensible American car. It was basic transportation, nothing fun, nothing flashy. But then, flashy wasn’t Molly’s style, or it hadn’t been back when she was a teenager. He eased into his parking space and turned off the engine. After collecting his briefcase, he closed the garage door and entered the house.
“I’m home,” he called, then frowned to wonder if he’d ever done that before. It was old television sitcom cliché. “Honey, I’m home.”
“Hi,” Molly answered. From the direction of her voice, he would guess she was in the library.
Dylan left his briefcase on the kitchen counter, collected a couple of beers from the refrigerator and went in search of his guest. He found her curled up in one of the leather recliners, reading. A floor lamp cast a warm circle of light over her and the book. Her feet were tucked under her and her shoes were neatly off to the side of the chair on the floor.
She hadn’t noticed him and seemed engrossed in her book. For a moment Dylan simply watched her. He couldn’t shake the odd feeling of knowing she’d been in the house while he was still at work. At the office he’d managed to focus on what he was doing and relegate their lunch to the back of his mind. But from time to time he’d found himself remembering something she’d said or picturing a quick movement of her hands. While he hadn’t been excited about coming home to find her here, he hadn’t dreaded it, either. The few occasions he’d let one of his women spend the night at his place he had felt trapped and awkward. Maybe the difference was he’d known Molly for a long time. More likely it was because they weren’t involved, nor were they likely to be.
He moved toward her. “I probably should have asked if you like beer,” he said, holding out one of the bottles. “Except for water and coffee, it’s about all I have. I don’t do much entertaining.”
She took the offered refreshment and smiled. “Thanks, it’s fine. I confess I did take a peek in the refrigerator earlier. I had an apple. I could tell you don’t spend a whole lot of time cooking.”
“Never learned how.” He took the seat across from hers and settled on the comfortable leather cushion. After a long swallow of beer, he loosened his tie, then pulled it free of his shirt.
“At the risk of sounding like a suburban wife, how was your day?” Her voice was teasing.
He liked that she was comfortable enough to kid him. Earlier, at the restaurant, he’d seen a lot of tension in her body. She’d downed her margarita as if it were a lifeline...or maybe the Dutch courage she’d needed to ask him about going away. Whatever it was, he was pleased that she’d finally relaxed a little.
“I’ve been busy. There’s a lot to get through before I can leave.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and holding the bottle of beer in both hands. “I’m not going to be much of a host tonight,” he said. “I have a briefcase full of work to finish up before morning. I fig—” He caught her smile. “What’s so funny?”
She flicked her fingers toward him. “Nothing, it’s just—” She shrugged. “Let’s say you’re not exactly what I expected. The Dylan I remember wore jeans and a black leather jacket. You’re in a suit, with a tie. You’re so respectable.”
“Tell me about it,” he grumbled. “I never thought it would come to this. I used to work in jeans all the time. Half my day was spent assembling bikes or fiddling with designs. Now I push around papers. I’ve become everything I hated when I was a kid. I wear a tie—something I swore I’d never do. I drive a Mercedes. I get my clothes dry-cleaned.”
“You have a very impressive Christmas tree.”
“I can’t take credit for that,” he said. “My decorator does them as a fundraiser for the local food bank. I tried to just give her the money, but she insists I get the tree and all the trimmings.”
“You’re a responsible citizen.”
“Worse. I’m old. Just last week I was in the grocery store and there were these three teenage boys making a lot of noise. Without thinking, I told them to quiet down. They walked off, but not before calling me ‘an old man.’ I realized they’re right. I am old.”
Molly burst out laughing. “You’re not even thirty-five. That’s not old.”
“It is to a fifteen-year-old.”
“Do you really care what those boys think?”
“No, it’s just—” He couldn’t explain it. Somehow everything had changed. He didn’t know when or how that had happened, but it was one of the reasons he wanted to go away. He needed to clear his head and figure out what was important.
“I sold out,” he said glumly, and wondered if he was about to do it again. Would he do what his lawyer and several other people had suggested and sell his company, or would he maintain his independence?
“You’ve become successful,” Molly said. “There’s a difference. You should be proud of yourself.”
Several strands of curly hair had escaped from her braid. They fluttered by her face and touched the top of her shoulder. Sometime in the afternoon she’d rolled up the sleeves of her shirt, exposing wrists and forearms. She had curves. Evie’s assessment had been that she was average. Dylan wasn’t sure what he thought of Molly. She wasn’t what he was used to in a woman. Okay, so no one would ever call her beautiful, but in this light, gesturing as she talked and smiling, she was sort of pretty. She had a sincerity he liked. Molly was a genuine person—he didn’t know many people he could say that about these days.
“Are you concerned the price is too high?” she asked. “Are you thinking that you’ve been forced to give up too much to get what you wanted?”
She saw way more than he was comfortable with.
“Too much serious conversation,” he said lightly, and rose to his feet. “If you looked in the refrigerator, you know I don’t have food around. How do you feel about pizza for dinner?”
“Sounds fine.”
“I know a great place that delivers. What would you like on it?”
“Anything.” She stood up, as well. “Do you want me to call?”
“No, I have the number memorized. Single guy who lives alone—no surprise there, right? I’m going to put on jeans and call the pizza place. Then I need to get started on my work.”
Molly held up her book. “Don’t worry about entertaining me. I’ll be fine.”
“I appreciate that. I don’t want this stuff hanging over me while we’re away.” He started for the door, then remembered something. “I’d like to leave about noon tomorrow. I thought we’d go to your place on our way out of town so you can drop off your car. Otherwise you’ll have to come by here when we get back and that’ll be nearly an hour out of your way.”
“That’s fine,” she said. “So we’re not heading east?”
If they were, leaving her car here would make more sense.
“Nope, but that’s all I’m going to say.”
“I think I like the idea of a pleasant surprise,” she told him.
They chatted for a couple more minutes, then he left the library and made his way to his bedroom. The guest room was at the other end of the hall. He’d forgotten to ask Molly if she’d found everything she needed. So much for being a good host. But when he returned to the library, she was gone. He ordered their pizza, collected his briefcase and started to work.
About a half hour later, there was a faint knock on the door. He called an absentminded, “Come in” but didn’t look up from the computer.
“Dinner’s here,” Molly told him. She placed a large plate with several slices of steaming pizza in front of him, along with a fresh beer. Before he could do more than thank her, she was gone.
Dylan stared at the closed door, torn between work and curiosity. Then he figured he’d better get back to his spreadsheet and turned his attention back to his papers.
* * *
It was nearly 1:30 p.m. the next afternoon when Molly closed the front door of her condo behind her. She could see through the courtyard to the street, where Dylan waited for her. She’d parked her car, taken in her big suitcase and checked for messages. Now she was ready to begin.
Her stomach tightened with excitement and a little bit of nerves. For a second she thought about calling the whole thing off. After all, she barely knew the man. What on earth had she been thinking when she’d asked him to take her on an adventure?
“I’m not going to back out now,” she said softly. “If I do, I’ll be stuck on my own. I refuse to spend the next two weeks waiting for the phone to ring.”
That resolved, she squared her shoulders and walked to the front of the building.
When Dylan saw her, he straightened and grabbed the extra helmet strapped on the seat behind him. He’d already loaded her small bag of clothes and toiletries. Molly eyed the helmet, then the motorcycle, and had another bout of second thoughts.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Dylan said, coming up to her and handing her the helmet. “My bike is perfectly safe. I’ve been driving it for years, so there’s nothing to worry about.”
“Oddly enough, my physical safety doesn’t concern me,” she said lightly. “I was questioning my mental stability. This is completely insane. Or haven’t you figured that out?”
He pulled the helmet over her head and fastened the strap under her chin. “Then we’re both crazy, because I agreed to this, right?”
“I suppose.”
“Hey, that’s supposed to make you feel better.”
Barefoot, Dylan was a good eight or nine inches taller than her. In his boots, he towered over her. As she met his dark gaze, something shifted inside. A feeling, more a shot of heat than sizzle, but it certainly got her attention. Awareness, she thought. Of the man he was. At twenty Dylan had been a charmer. All grown up in his thirties, he was irresistible.
Talk about being silly, Molly thought. Finding Dylan attractive was about as useful as using a teaspoon to shovel your way out of an avalanche. Still, he would be a distraction. As long as she didn’t get carried away, she would be fine.
“You have everything?” he asked. “I didn’t really expect you to fit all your stuff in that one bag, so left a little room in mine.”
“I can follow directions,” she told him. “Don’t worry about me. I have everything I need.”
For reasons that still didn’t make sense, she’d even repacked the ring. She wanted it close. Maybe as a talisman against all that had happened.
“Then let’s get going,” he said, and handed her a leather jacket. “This will be a little big, but you’ll need it to stay warm. The breeze gets pretty stiff on the bike.”
He helped her into the jacket, then fastened it. His ministrations made her feel like a child. It was probably how he thought of her, but she wasn’t going to complain. For once, it was nice having someone take care of her.
When he was done, he touched her face. “There’s still time to change your mind,” he told her.
“I could say the same thing to you.”
“Nope. I’m going.”
“Then I’m going with you.”
“Great.” Dylan flashed her a quick smile that shocked her clear down to her thighs, then climbed onto the bike. He flipped down the clear plastic visor and motioned for her to get on behind him.
Molly swallowed hard. Ah, so she hadn’t thought everything through. She hadn’t really considered that being on a motorcycle with Dylan meant she would be riding behind him, touching him. Touching him in an incredibly intimate way.
She didn’t know whether to laugh or scream.
In the end she gave a strangled gargling sound, flipped down her visor and moved next to the bike. She had to maneuver her right leg over the seat, then sort of shift-slide into place. It wasn’t graceful. She felt awkward and clumsy and incredibly large as she settled onto the seat. The machine bounced with her movements.
Dylan started the bike. “You’re gonna have to hang on,” he called over the rumble of the engine. “You can stick your hands in my jacket pockets or wrap your arms around me. Whichever is more comfortable.”
“Sure,” she said, as if it were no big deal. Right. She, like millions of American women, spent most of her day on a bike behind a guy, touching him, pressing up against him, feeling—
The bike moved forward. Molly yelped and grabbed for Dylan. He accelerated down the street, then headed into a turn. The three of them—him, her and the bike—tilted toward the ground. She shrieked again and held on with all her strength, wrapping her arms around his waist and squeezing.
“You’ve never been on a motorcycle before, have you?” Dylan called.
She shook her head, then realized he couldn’t see the movement. “No,” she said, speaking directly into his ear.
“Just relax. Don’t fight me or the bike. You’re going to be fine. I’ll keep you safe.”
Uh-huh. Sure. She believed that.
After a couple of minutes, she realized she was clenching her jaw. It was unlikely that keeping those muscles tight would do anything to prevent her immediate death, so she tried to relax that part of her body. They headed toward the Pacific Coast Highway. Molly felt herself start to hyperventilate.
They were going on PCH? The one with all the cliffs? Sure, the scenery was breathtaking from Mischief Bay and many miles north, but it wouldn’t look so beautiful when viewed from a motorcycle plummeting to the water below.
Molly ducked her head behind Dylan’s back and inwardly screamed as she felt them accelerate. She closed her eyes tight, prayed really hard and waited.
Minutes ticked by. There was no fiery crash, no screech of brakes, no impending sense of death. Gradually she raised her head. The clear visor kept most of the rushing air off her face and out of her eyes. If she kept her mouth closed, the issue of bugs seemed manageable.
They were moving north. She didn’t know how fast they were going, but it felt like flying. The air was cool. Dylan and jacket both kept her warm. She’d traveled this highway a thousand times before, yet everything looked different. It was as if she were seeing the world for the first time.
To their left, the Pacific went on forever, the blue sky uninterrupted by clouds. The sun, almost directly overhead, glinted off the white-capped waves. Dylan pointed toward the road ahead of them, and she laughed out loud when she spotted a man dressed as Santa Claus speeding toward them in a red convertible, beard flying. He honked as he passed.
She straightened a little, easing her death grip on Dylan’s midsection. The bike was more stable than she would have thought. She wouldn’t want to drive it or anything, but it wasn’t so bad being back here. The band of fear around her chest loosened just a little. For the first time in weeks, she was able to draw in a deep breath without feeling pain. The whole purpose of the journey was to live for the moment, she reminded herself. She couldn’t change what was going to happen. She could only deal with the now.
After a while, Molly started reading road signs. She put her mouth close to his ear.
“San Francisco?” she asked.
He shook his head. “You’re gonna have to wait.”
“I hate that. Tell me now.”
“No way.”
She laughed. She settled her hands in his pockets and tried not to become so aware of his body pressing against hers. Or was she pressing against him? Not that it mattered. The reality was they were touching in a lot of places.
He’s just a guy, she reminded herself. She was familiar with all the working parts and Dylan’s couldn’t be that different from everyone else’s. While it was perfectly all right to enjoy his fabulous body in these close quarters, she had better remember this was about transportation, not attraction.
Her wayward hormones didn’t seem to be listening. She found it more and more difficult not to notice how her thighs pressed right up against his rather amazing butt.
Molly bit back a giggle. Oh, well, she would just have to endure the torture. There were many worse things in life. And if she ended up with another crush on him, so be it. She would deal with that just as she’d dealt with everything else recently. This time was for her, and if that meant she had fun being close to Dylan’s hunky body, then she should just shut up and enjoy.
Chapter Four (#ulink_1d797072-034a-5c48-ae41-a66048ffb9dc)
Dylan hovered about five miles over the limit, partly out of respect for Molly, and partly so they could enjoy the scenery a bit longer. He didn’t care what happened later, but he wanted to spend a couple of days by the ocean. He could only be a desert rat for so long before he needed to smell salt air.
The motorcycle engine hummed. Even though he hadn’t had a chance to go for a ride in weeks, he always kept his bikes in perfect condition. It was a trait left over from his racing days. One he hadn’t bothered changing. Every adventure should start with a ride along an open road—well, clear except for the usual mid-afternoon traffic.
He bent into the curve of the road and they headed inland. Molly had grown used to the bike and now moved with him instead of fighting him on every turn. She was a fast learner, he thought, trying to ignore the feel of her hands lightly holding on to his waist. To distract himself, he glanced at the cars around them and at the road signs. They should make good time. Maybe another hour or so to their first destination. They could pick up groceries, maybe cook on the beach and watch the sunset. He hadn’t been gone a whole day yet, but already he felt lighter. As if he’d been able to leave his worries behind. He’d been working too hard, he realized. He was long overdue for a vacation. But between the pressures of work, designing new bikes and trying to turn his company into a force in the industry, there hadn’t been a whole lot of free time.
He also needed to get laid.
Dylan frowned, wishing he could shift position or something. This wasn’t a problem he’d planned on. He swore under his breath and tried to figure out what was wrong. So he was on a motorcycle with a woman. He’d taken women on rides countless times and it wasn’t a big deal. In this case, the woman was just little Molly, his former girlfriend’s younger sister. Okay, so she’d grown up. That didn’t mean anything. Why on earth couldn’t he ignore the feel of her body pressed up against his? Apparently it had been way too long between women.
This wasn’t about Molly, he told himself. She wasn’t his type and he sure wasn’t interested in her. He liked lean women with minimal curves. Evie had said she was overweight and he thought that was a little harsh, but naked Molly would be—
Lush.
The word came from nowhere and he wished it back there. But once it had formed in his brain, it sort of got lodged, as if it were not going to budge any time soon. He thought about how soft she would be. No angles or sharp hip bones, just smooth skin. Her breasts would spill over his hands. Without wanting to, he imagined cupping the generous curves, tracing the pale skin until she was writhing beneath him.
He could feel the heat of her right now. Dammit, obviously that was the problem. Their positions on the bike forced her right up against his butt. Was it his fault she was so warm? Even though he knew it was his imagination, he thought he could inhale the sweet scent of her body. They were both wearing jackets, so there was no way that her breasts could press against his back, yet he would swear he could feel their weight. Her hands—he just wanted her to move them a little lower. If only she would rub against him until—
“Until what?” he muttered, knowing she couldn’t hear him. “Until you get so distracted you’re a road hazard?”
But the images would not be denied. They flashed through his brain. Pictures of her under him, her thighs and belly a pillow for him. Of her above him, her breasts bouncing with each thrust. Of—
He swore again. Long and graphic, using words he’d nearly forgotten he knew. The solution was simple. When he got back home, he would call one of the women he dated on occasion and find a little relief. In the meantime, Molly was just a friend. He didn’t do relationships and he doubted she’d ever played fast and loose in her life. Besides, this was pure speculation. The truth was, when faced with the reality of seeing her naked, he doubted she would actually turn him on.
“You go to hell for lying same as stealing,” he muttered to himself.
So he ignored the feel of her against him, ignored the heat and the imaginary scent. There was, he acknowledged, a certain pleasure in the wanting. It had been a long time since he’d actually wanted something he couldn’t have. If nothing else, he was building a little character. Lately, life—and women—had gotten too easy. The kind he chose—those who weren’t interested in anything but the game—were always available. They wanted something from him, and as long as he provided it, they would give him anything in return.
Miles later, he’d almost grown used to the discomfort of the wanting. In fact he found a perverse pleasure in it. Good thing Molly couldn’t tell. Knowing he was turned on would probably scare her to death. Not that she was virgin. At least, he didn’t think so. Dylan frowned as he realized he didn’t know anything about Molly’s personal life. She could be married with a half-dozen kids. Maybe he should have asked a few more questions. He shook his head. Right now, it didn’t matter. They were going away, not starting anything together. When the two weeks were up, he would have made his decision about what to do with his company, and she, well, he hoped she would have solved her problems, too.
It was about an hour later when he drove down the 101 off ramp and circled under the freeway into the small town of Carpenteria. He pulled to the side of the road.
“We’re here,” he said. “What do you think?”
Molly looked around. “I thought we’d go farther north. We’re, what, about twenty minutes south of Santa Barbara?”
“That’s right. I rented a house on the beach for a couple of days. We can extend our stay here or head out. It’s up to you. I’ve spent time here before. It’s a nice little town. Off-season, like now, it’s quiet. Just locals, with few tourists. We can head up to Santa Barbara for the day. There’s plenty to do.”
She nodded. “I like it.”
“Good.”
He drove down the street. He was familiar enough with the town to find the real estate office. Molly stayed on the bike while he filled out the two short forms and paid with a credit card. When he stepped back on the bike, she frowned.
“You’re not going to get all macho on me, are you?” she asked. “I want to pay my half.”
“That’s what we agreed on.” Dylan shoved the credit card receipt into his jacket pocket. “I figured we’d each pay for some stuff, then at the end of the two weeks, we’ll total our expenses. Whoever paid the least writes the other a check for half the difference. I don’t want to hassle with money every day. Agreed?”
She grinned at him.
“What’s so funny?” he asked.
“I can’t believe you’re the same guy whose idea of a business transaction used to be illegally racing a quarter mile for beer money.”
“We all have to grow up. Even me.”
“I’d say you’ve more than grown up, Dylan.”
She had, too, he thought as he slid back in the seat and felt the heat of her body. He’d managed to calm down some while in the real estate office, but after about thirty seconds of his butt nestling against her open thighs, he was ready again. If he hadn’t already promised nothing would happen between them, and if he wasn’t convinced it would be a bad idea for both of them, he might just want to find out how great it would be to make love with Molly. But he knew better.
Their house was small and old-fashioned, probably built in the mid-fifties. The sides were wood, the windows small. He doubted the whole thing was even nine hundred square feet. A far cry from his home up in the hills, but he liked it. The other houses on the street were also rentals and most of them were vacant. He and Molly would have peace and quiet. The best part was, their backyard was the beach and, beyond that, the Pacific Ocean.
“Home sweet home,” he said as he turned off the engine. The cry of a seagull cut through the sudden silence.
Molly unstrapped her helmet and pulled it off. Her hair was a mess, all loose from her braid. The wild wavy curls blew around her face. She pushed them away impatiently.
“I can smell the ocean,” she said. “It’s nice.”
He climbed off, then held out a hand to her. She hesitated before taking it, but when she swung her leg clear of the seat and tried to straighten, she grabbed hold more firmly. “What happened?” she asked, taking a shaky step. “I feel like I’ve been at sea.”
“You’re stiff from the ride,” he said. “You’re not used to being on a bike, so you were pretty tense the whole way up. Plus you’re using different muscles. Walk around. You’ll stretch out.”
She bent her knees a couple of times, then walked back and forth in front of the bike. He tried not to watch but found his attention drawn to the way she filled out her jeans. Her rear was nice and round. He figured he could get a good hold of her there, or maybe on her hips.
Dylan swore under his breath, then made himself concentrate on unpacking their few belongings. Let it go, he told himself. He had no business thinking about messing with her. Enjoying the ride up from L.A. was one thing, but it was time for some self-control.
The lecture helped...a little. He managed to avoid thinking about her curves, even when she unzipped her jacket, exposing the soft, red sweater she wore underneath. The swell of her breasts was only of passing interest. At least it would stay that way if he quickly averted his eyes.
“I’ve got the key,” he said gruffly, then had to clear his throat. He led the way, mostly so she wouldn’t see his arousal pressing against the fly of his jeans.
There were two steps up to the wooden porch. The front door looked flimsy, but Dylan figured they didn’t have anything worth stealing, so it wasn’t going to be a problem.
Inside, the house was a little musty. Molly went to the rear windows and opened the mini-blinds. They had an instant view of the ocean. She caught her breath.
“It’s so beautiful. The sky and the water are the perfect color of blue.”
She smiled at him, an ingenuous smile that expected nothing in return. Oddly enough, he found himself wanting to give her something. He, who considered himself the last great cynic alive.
She wrinkled her nose. “I’ll bet this place hasn’t been lived in since summer. Let’s get it aired out.” She pushed open the windows, then glanced around. “It’s small but nice.”

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