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Flirting With the Boss
Teresa Southwick
Ashley Gallagher had wished for money and power, then she received a promotion…and a new boss: Max Caine, corporate shark and the first man to break her heart. But Ashley knew better than to trust a bad boy, even one in a suit. Was he in town to destroy his grandfather's company? She'd find out–no matter what it took, even if it meant wining and dining Max while resisting his potent half smiles and sizzling glances.But then the riches of his love began to glitter more temptingly than gold….



“To what do I owe this unexpected visit?” Max asked.
“I’m here to ask you out to dinner.”
He couldn’t have been more shocked if Ashley had walked into his office and started a striptease. “Why?”
“Do I need a reason?” she asked, hedging.
Throwing caution to the wind, he stood and walked around his desk. He was close enough to pull her into his arms. She met his gaze and took several steps back.
“Yeah.” He crossed his arms. “Why don’t you sit down and tell me what information you’re trying to worm out of me?”
She nodded.
As she settled herself, the whisper of her nylons as she crossed one shapely leg over the other sent sparks skipping through him. Her skirt hiked up several inches on her thigh.
She didn’t have to buy him dinner to find out his secrets.
All she had to do was sit there looking like sin-in-waiting.

Flirting With the Boss
Teresa Southwick



www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

TERESA SOUTHWICK
lives in Southern California with her hero husband who is more than happy to share with her the male point of view. An avid fan of romance novels, she is delighted to be living out her dream of writing for Silhouette Books.
The Fortune-teller said…
Money and power are not what they seem. Love is the sweetness that brings you your dream.
If the three born on February twenty-ninth rub the magic from the lamp and make a wish—on that day that comes only once every four years—each shall receive her most coveted desire.
But there is peril.
Each of the three must see beyond the evident. Look into the soul of the one her heart has chosen. Only then will she find the truth that is hers alone.

Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve

Chapter One
Sweet Spring, Texas—June 4, 2004
All that glitters…
Is not gold, Ashley Gallagher thought. She stared at the gold-wrapped chocolate coins on her desk—one of Caine Chocolate Company’s specialty items. Bentley Caine, owner, president and her mentor, had recently promoted her to manager of the specialty and seasonal department.
Touching the red ribbon tied around the cellophane package, she thought about the man who was also her friend. He was in the hospital recuperating from a heart attack. After collapsing at work, he’d insisted she contact his estranged grandson.
Max Caine wasn’t the last person she’d wanted to talk to, but he was among the bottom three. Only her respect and affection for his grandfather had compelled her to make the call.
She’d given him the facts. Max had made no attempt to draw out the conversation so she’d said goodbye. That had been two days ago. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected from him, but her expectations hadn’t included nothing. Surely by now Max should have—
“Knock, knock.”
Ashley looked up at the sound of the masculine voice. Her stomach knotted when she recognized the good-looking specimen of manhood in the doorway. Just the man she’d been thinking about. A stress-inducer if she’d ever seen one. Unfortunately she’d seen her share. This one had just been the first.
“Hello, Max.” Her voice was breathless. Considering she’d barely gotten the two words past the constriction in her throat, breathless delivery was a win.
“Ashley.” Max Caine moved into the room. “How are you?”
How brazen was he? Acting as if it had been ten days instead of ten years since she’d last seen him. Swallowing hard, she met his blue-eyed gaze. If only she could say she’d forgotten how blue his eyes were, but she couldn’t. Not if she was truthful.
And darn her heart for thumping so hard. The fact that he was even better looking than the last time she’d seen him was no excuse for this reaction to him. She could only chalk it up to the fact that she was a serial non-dater.
But gosh darn it, Max Caine had actually come back. She hadn’t thought he would. Neither had Mr. Caine. While they’d waited for the paramedics, he’d said he wanted to see his grandson. But he didn’t think Max would come if he did the asking. He’d insisted she make the call to bring Max home. Mission accomplished.
“How am I? How do you think after your grandfather’s heart attack? How is he today?”
“I haven’t seen him yet.” Max rested his palms on her desk and leaned forward, frowning as he studied her. “I’m here looking for my grandfather, Ashley.”
“Have you looked for him at Sweet Spring General Hospital?” she asked.
“He’s not there.” Exasperation coated his words.
“That’s impossible. He was just moved to a regular room from the cardiac care unit yesterday. The doctor said he wanted to keep Mr. Caine in the hospital at least a few more days.”
“Apparently he left.”
She blinked. “Why would he do that?”
“Your guess is as good as mine.” Max lifted one broad shoulder. “I’m just passing on the information I was given.”
Ashley stared at him, then picked up her phone. “Bernice, get Mr. Caine’s cardiologist on the phone.”
“Right away,” came the female voice on the other end of the line.
Ashley set the receiver back in the cradle and looked up. “I don’t understand. Who did you speak to at the hospital?”
“Does it matter?”
“Maybe. Patients get moved. It’s possible you were given the wrong room number.”
“Are you suggesting I should have searched every room?”
“I’m just saying, maybe you only talked to someone at the information desk who hadn’t been updated yet about a move.”
“A move that happened yesterday? News in the hospital travels by pony express?”
He had a point, but wild horses wouldn’t compel her to tell him that. “I can’t believe he would do this.” The phone buzzed, and she picked it up. When she was told the doctor was on line two, she pressed the button and said, “Doctor Davis? Ashley Gallagher here.”
“How can I help you, Miss Gallagher?”
“It’s about Mr. Caine.” She looked up at the other Mr. Caine staring intently at her and tried to ignore the jittery feeling his gaze generated inside her.
“Yes?”
“I’ve just been told he’s no longer in the hospital.”
“That’s right. He walked out.”
“But how could you let him do that?”
“I can’t force a patient to stay. I can only make sure he understands the seriousness of his condition. Are you calling from work?”
“Yes.”
“So he’s not there?”
Her eyes widened. “I haven’t seen him, but that doesn’t mean—”
“If he is, I advise you to make him go home.”
“And what makes you think I would have more luck with him than you did?”
The chuckle on the other end of the line was tinged with dark humor. “Good point. I wish you luck anyway. He’s a stubborn old man. But I like him.”
“Me, too,” she said.
“If there’s anything I can do, let me know.”
“Can I call on you if I need some muscle?” She looked at the muscular man whose gaze had been superglued to her this whole time. But Max had disappeared from Bentley Caine’s life ten years ago. There was no reason to believe she could count on him for help now.
The doctor laughed, this time in genuine amusement. “I’ll do whatever I can, Miss Gallagher.”
“Thank you,” she said, then hung up the phone. Looking up at Max she said, “You’re right. He’s AWOL. Have you checked the house?” she asked.
“Right after the hospital. No sign of him,” he said, sliding his big hands into the pockets of his suit slacks.
Expensive slacks unless she missed her guess. The supremely masculine movement upset the sleek, perfect line of the costly matching jacket. His beige dress shirt and coordinating geometric-patterned tie were immaculate, unlike the memories he’d left behind.
“Have you checked his office?” She stood up.
Her simmering exasperation at the senior Mr. Caine escalated. If he ignored his cardiologist’s advice to rest in the hospital after a heart attack, what would prevent that stubborn old man from sneaking back to work against his doctor’s orders? Without waiting for an answer, she rounded her desk and headed out the door.
Max Caine fell into step beside her as she walked down the hall. He was tall, much taller than his grandfather, about six feet to her five feet three inches, unless she missed her guess. He was more filled out through the chest than she remembered. And his hair was different. Unlike the too-long shaggy style she’d last seen, now his sandy blond hair was short and neatly combed. But his strong, square jaw and the nose that was neither too big nor too small for his face were the same. He was still very attractive, but now instead of radiating bad boy boldness, he was too-smooth, too-GQ, too-businessman chic.
She admitted to herself that she was judging him without mercy. That couldn’t be helped. Men who left without saying goodbye didn’t deserve mercy. Granted, she’d been a fourteen-year-old with a raging crush, but his indifference had cut deep. She’d gotten over it. What she couldn’t forgive was not a single word to his grandfather in a decade. That indifference had devastated the older man who was her friend as well as her boss. Anyone who hurt him had to answer to her.
She stopped at the end of the hall in front of the receptionist. “Bernice, have you seen Mr. Caine today?”
The thirty-something brunette met her gaze, then slid an appreciative, appraising look to the man beside Ashley. “Isn’t he still in the hospital?”
Ashley glanced up at Max. “Apparently not,” she said grimly.
“He’s supposed to be.”
“I know,” Ashley admitted.
“Who’s he?” Bernice asked, nodding toward Max.
“Max Caine,” he said, extending his large hand.
The secretary’s eyes widened as she put her palm in his. “The rebel?”
“Is that what they call me?” he asked Ashley.
“Among other things,” she admitted.
“What other things?”
She felt the heat crawl up her neck. The question made her uncomfortable in spite of the fact she didn’t feel the slightest inclination to spare this man’s feelings or impress him. Unfortunately, she couldn’t seem to stop the blush. She blew out a breath. “To everyone over thirty-five in this town you’re the ingrate.”
He glanced at Bernice who was barely concealing the fact that she thought he was hot. “And to everyone under thirty-five I’m the rebel?”
“You gotta love small towns.” Ashley decided the opinion poll regarding Max Caine was skewed because she’d pitched her tent in the over thirty-five camp. “Bernice, it’s come to my attention that Mr. Bentley Caine is unaccounted for. I’ll just take a peek in his office in case he slipped past you.”
“Be my guest,” she said.
Ashley, with Max beside her, walked to the closed door and opened it. The oak-panelled, hunter green carpeted room was empty.
“Darn.” She glanced up at Max who had easily looked over her head and came to the same conclusion she had. His grandfather wasn’t there. “Now what?” she said to no one in particular.
A muscle in Max’s jaw contracted. “Now we go look for him.”
“What’s this ‘we’ stuff?” she asked.
“Do you know his routine? His hangouts? His habits?”
“Yes, some, but—”
“Then I need you,” he said, encircling her upper arm in his firm grip. “We is you and me.”
“Where are you taking me?”
“To join the search party.” Max frowned as he studied her, but it was impossible to tell what he was thinking.
“That’s presumptuous. You don’t know me from a rock—”
“Sure I do. You’re the one who called and got me into this. Besides, I recognized you right away.”
She knew better than to be pleased by that piece of information. But pleased she was. She reminded herself it didn’t mean anything. “I didn’t mean my looks. Besides, I haven’t changed all that much.”
“Sure you have. You’ve grown up since that summer we were friends.”
She’d thought they were friends, but she’d found out differently. Her stomach clenched, and she pushed the feelings away. “The past isn’t important.”
“You won’t get any argument from me about that. And now I’m asking for your help to find him.”
“How come you’re so concerned all of a sudden?” she demanded.
“How do you know it’s sudden?”
She shrugged. “Logical conclusion based on your actions.”
“My actions? Like coming back?”
“Your actions—as in you left and haven’t been back in ten years. Why show up now? And I don’t buy it’s because you care that he’s sick.”
Lines creased his forehead, and he seemed lost in thought. “That’s a very good question.”
“And I’m waiting for a very good answer.”
“I don’t really have one. But when I do, you’ll be the first to know.”
“Actually your grandfather deserves the answer, not me. But if we don’t find him—”
“We will.”
Ashley thought there was an edge to Max’s voice. In anyone else, she might think it was caused by worry. But this was the guy who had turned his back a decade ago.
“I need to get my purse,” she said, as they stopped outside her office. She was choosing to go with Max Caine because it was almost quitting time and she wouldn’t get any work done now anyway. Not until her boss was located. “And my organizer.”
“Does he use a cell phone?”
He? What did Max call Bentley Caine? Grandpa? Grampy? She looked at the tension in his square jaw and decided that would be a negative on Grampy. Grandfather?
She thought back to their conversations in the employee lunch room. At fourteen, she’d vented feelings of frustration about being grounded and having to go to work with her mother when she wasn’t in summer school. Max had called her Mona the Moaner. He’d done his share of moaning. His grandfather was the source of major frustration. He’d talked about—Bentley.
He’d called the older man by his given name, and she’d thought it very cool—sophisticated. She’d had stars in her eyes because the larger-than-life rebel and hunk, Max Caine, had actually spent time with her. Then his actions had said loud and clear that she wasn’t worth the spit it would take to let her know he was leaving town.
Now he had to ask her if his grandfather had a cell phone. Max should have come back. Then he would know the answer to that question.
“Ashley? It’s not that difficult a question.”
“No, your grandfather doesn’t have a cell phone,” she finally answered.
Max’s mouth thinned to a grim line. “I had a feeling.”
“A feeling?” The man was his family. He shouldn’t have to rely on feelings. He should have been around all these years to know the facts. Then he wouldn’t need her to steer him to his grandfather’s hangouts. And just maybe if Max hadn’t left, his grandfather wouldn’t have worked himself into a heart attack. “You haven’t seen him for ten years. How can you have feelings?”
“A figure of speech. It’s more like informed intuition. Ten years ago he was stubborn, opinionated and dictatorial. And those were his good qualities.” Max politely opened and held for her one of the double glass doors in the lobby. “I have no reason to believe he’s changed.”
“Is that so?” She walked past him and wasn’t certain if the heat she felt was from him or the June air that made Sweet Spring, Texas, feel as hot as the face of the sun.
Ashley met his gaze. “Hmm. Stubborn, opinionated and dictatorial. Has anyone ever told you the fruit doesn’t fall far from the tree?”

Chapter Two
Scrappy. Max looked down at Ashley Gallagher and that was the first word that came to mind. She was scrappy, all right, and if not for her phone call, he wouldn’t be here.
Studying her he said, “Did you just insult me?”
“If you have to ask, I was too subtle.”
He took her elbow and steered her toward his car parked in Caine Chocolate Company’s lot. Heat was radiating in waves, and he couldn’t decide if it was only from the blacktop or if some of it was coming from his companion.
“I’ll drive,” he said, stopping beside the silver BMW he’d rented at the airport. He opened the passenger door and Ashley slid inside. “You tell me where to go.”
She looked up at him and rolled her eyes. “At least make it interesting. Don’t just hand me gift-wrapped zingers.”
He wanted to ask why she felt the need to zing him. But that was a conversation he didn’t want to have while the Texas sun was frying his brain. “I’ll rephrase. You keep your eyes open for the old man.”
When she opened her mouth, he shut the door, then walked around the back of the car and let himself in on the driver’s side. After cranking up the A/C full blast, he pulled out of the lot and headed for downtown Sweet Spring. Whatever she’d been about to say remained a mystery. Ashley didn’t utter a word, but he could almost feel her thought waves vibrating.
He put on his left blinker, then stopped at the red light. Sliding a glance toward the passenger seat, he noticed she was rigid enough to snap. A few freckles dotted her turned-up nose, her pale skin looked perfect, making the red curls brushing her cheek blaze even brighter. Her profile was delicate and feminine, at odds with the unisex navy blue business suit she wore. The last time he’d seen her, she’d been a kid in the company cafeteria. Now she worked for his grandfather. He wondered if she’d ever disappointed Bentley Caine.
“Why did you call me?” he asked.
“Because your grandfather was ill, and he asked me to.”
“He was well enough to walk out of the hospital. One has to assume he could have managed a phone. So why did you do the honors?”
She glanced over at him, then her gaze slid away. “Because he wanted to see you, and he said if he called, you wouldn’t come.”
He was right, Max thought. He was only here now out of a sense of duty. The same reason his grandfather had taken him in after his parents died. His conversation with Ashley had been short. She’d informed him that his grandfather’s heart attack had put the old man in the cardiac care unit at Sweet Spring General Hospital. Then she’d given him the facility’s phone number and told him Bentley Caine would like to see him.
Max’s initial reaction had been to hang up. But some quality in Ashley’s voice—a hint of gravel mixed with whiskey and liberally laced with hostility—had stopped him. After leaving town, he hadn’t thought much about her. But when she identified herself on the other end of the line, memories had flooded back. He remembered a sweet, smiling kid. The picture in his head didn’t mesh with the cool, cranky woman beside him.
She turned suddenly to look at a pedestrian on her side of the car, then faced front again. “I think we should go to the sheriff and file a missing person’s report.”
“It’s my understanding that we have to wait at least twenty-four hours before he’s officially considered missing.” He glanced over at her. “Where does he like to go?”
“For fun?”
“My grandfather doesn’t do fun. At least he didn’t used to. I meant is there a favorite restaurant we can check? A hangout?”
The corners of her full mouth curved up. “I can’t picture Mr. Caine hanging out. But his top three favorite places are Tiny’s BBQ, Dairy Queen and The Fast Lane—it’s a coffee shop in the bowling alley.”
They were just passing the bowling alley, and he made a hard right turn into the driveway. “Let’s take a look.”
When the BMW was parked, she got out and gave the lot the once-over. “I don’t see his car.”
“Maybe someone inside has seen him.”
As they walked side by side to the double glass doors, she glanced at him curiously. He could almost hear the questions echoing in her head. It was just a matter of time until she started asking them.
“Why are you doing this?” she asked.
And there was the first one. “Define this.”
“Don’t play dumb, Max. We both know you’re not. And before you ask, that wasn’t a compliment. Just a statement of fact. Why are you bothering to look for your grandfather?”
“I came here to see him because I owe him that much. As soon as we find him, I can leave. It’s that simple.”
Before she could make something out of that, they stopped at the bowling alley registration desk.
Ashley put her hands on the counter. “Hi, Sam.”
“Ashley.” The fit and forty-something dark-haired man standing there, studied him, openly curious.
“Sam Fisher this is Max Caine,” she said.
“Sam,” he said, shaking hands. “I’m looking for my grandfather, Bentley Caine. Ashley tells me he likes to come in here.”
Sam’s face flickered with recognition, but unlike Bernice, he managed to hold back the ingrate remarks. “I know who he is. My wife works over at the chocolate factory.”
“I see. Have you seen him in the last twenty-four hours?”
Sam looked surprised. “Isn’t he in the hospital? I heard he had a heart attack.”
Ashley tucked a strand of copper-colored hair behind her ear. “Mr. Caine walked out of the hospital sometime last night and no one has seen him. We’re checking out the places he might have gone.”
“Sorry. He hasn’t been here since I came in this morning. But I’ll ask around.” The other man shrugged. “If he comes in, I’ll let you know.”
“Okay,” she said.
They started to back away when Sam added, “He’s a good guy. Always says we have the best fried chicken he’s ever tasted.”
Max looked at him. “And afterward, he can bowl a couple of games to counteract the blast of cholesterol.”
“Thanks, Sam.” Ashley took Max’s arm and aimed him toward the door. “Way to get the sympathy vote, Ace. You could have gone all day without telling Sam Fisher his chicken is a heart attack waiting to happen.”
“Even though I said it with a great deal of charm?” he asked.
“Here’s a suggestion. When we check out the Dairy Queen and Tiny’s BBQ, either we just cruise the parking lot or I go in alone. If you tell them they’re a hotbed of heart disease, you’re not likely to enlist their help in this endeavor.”
“Whatever you say.”
When they were back in the car driving through downtown Sweet Spring Ashley sighed like a balloon losing air.
“Spit it out before you implode,” he said.
She didn’t even pretend to misunderstand. “You know, diet isn’t the only contributing factor in a heart attack.”
“Lack of exercise, maybe?”
“I was thinking more along the lines of the strain of running Caine Chocolate all by himself.”
“He’s not alone. He’s got you.”
“True. I’m part of the administrative staff in place to manage the company. But I think you know that’s not what I meant.”
“How long have you worked there?” he asked.
“Since I was sixteen. It was my first job.”
He glanced over at her. “So you worked your way through the ranks.”
“Yes. And I try to take some of the stress off him. But I’m not family.”
“I feel a zinger coming on.”
“Another source of tension and pressure could be the desertion of a family member and his subsequent refusal to return home.”
That was damned irritating. Her version of events was so slanted he couldn’t help wondering if she was merely being a devoted employee paid to recite the company line. Or if she believed what she was saying. Because there was another side to the story. His side.
“How much do you know about me?” he asked, tamping down his anger. He didn’t remember whether or not they’d talked about his background ten years ago.
“I know your parents were killed in an automobile accident and your grandfather took you in when you were fifteen. You were angry and rebellious and got into trouble with the sheriff a couple times during high school. Big trouble that made the newspapers. Very public stuff—”
“I’m sorry I asked.” He turned left into the Dairy Queen driveway. There were only a couple of cars in the lot. “Anything?”
“I don’t see his car. I’ll run inside and ask if anyone has seen him.”
Max watched her walk up to the door, then disappear inside. He didn’t remember her being so skeptical, cynical and suspicious. She also hadn’t been so sassy, scrappy and sexy. But that was beside the point. Where did she get off judging him? Whatever happened to walking a mile in a man’s wingtips before forming an opinion? Living with Bentley Caine hadn’t been a bed of roses. Did she know what the old man had done to him? What had convinced Max he’d be better off anywhere but Sweet Spring?
Ashley was back moments later. After sliding into the car she said, “He hasn’t been here, but they’ll let me know if he comes in.”
He waited for her to buckle up. After looking both ways, he eased out into noticeably heavier traffic. Quitting time in town. If he was smart, he would quit too. But this wasn’t the first time he hadn’t been smart enough to live up to his potential.
“Did you ever ask my grandfather why I left?”
“I didn’t know him then. By the time I did, it wasn’t important anymore.”
That’s not what her tone said. She was taking something very personally. Two could play that game. “For the record, I didn’t desert anyone.”
“No?”
“No.”
“But you did leave town?”
“Of course I did,” he snapped. “And I had good reason.”
“But Sweet Spring was your home—”
“It’s his home, not mine. In spite of everything he did, I got an education, including a master’s degree. I found out I was good at saving failing corporations from the brink of disaster and started my own free-lance consulting business. I do what’s necessary—reduce staff, consolidate, or sell off unprofitable businesses.”
“A heart of gold,” she murmured.
“My reputation as a business fixer is well known,” he shot back. “I’m justifiably proud of my level of success, and I did it without his help.”
“Obviously he did something for you. You said you owed him enough to see him.”
“Yeah.”
The vibes he was getting from her said she was dug in on the old man’s side. So what did he care? He was no longer a kid who didn’t know where he belonged. But it did stick in his craw that she was loyal to the man who hadn’t been loyal to his own flesh and blood. Apparently she saw a side to his grandfather that Max had never glimpsed.
“Tiny’s BBQ is up ahead,” she said, pointing toward a sign sporting a pig and a cow, nose to nose.
Max steered the car into the lot and waited while Ashley went inside. She wasn’t gone long.
“Nothing,” she said, after sliding back into her seat.
“I’ll call the house. Maybe there’s news.”
Max pulled his cell phone out and hit the programmed number. The housekeeper answered and said she hadn’t seen Mr. Caine but would let Max know if his grandfather came home.
He slid the phone into his pocket. “It’s time to bring in the big guns.”
“The sheriff’s office is just down the street,” she said, reading his mind.

“So do you believe no news is good news like the sheriff said?” Ashley asked Max. “That Mr. Caine will probably turn up tomorrow?”
“Yeah. For now, leaving the looking to the professionals seems like the best thing to do.” His mouth thinned to a straight line. “Although it’s frustrating. By this time I figured I would be on a plane back to California.”
Had it really been a decade since she’d stared wide-eyed at bad boy Max Caine in the company cafeteria? Sitting across from him again, Ashley felt an odd sense of déjà vu. Then, she’d been flattered by attention from charismatic Max Caine. But now that she knew his true colors, she wasn’t sure why she’d agreed to his dinner invitation.
The waiter left their check and Max took it. She got the feeling the gesture was automatic. Dinner out with a woman was probably par for his course, but hers had been seriously lacking in men. She didn’t think Max was her type, which was a relief. Although she wasn’t sure she had a type.
She’d been too busy working her way through college to pay much attention to the male of the species. And given the disastrous romantic track record of the Gallagher women, which included her mother, her sister and herself, she’d been grateful for the too-busy schedule that had kept her from dating.
In the cloud that was her struggle for a business degree, not dating had been the only silver lining. All of her relationship experiences had been disastrous. For her, dinner out with a man was a prequel to perdition. This wasn’t a date. There was no reason to hang around and make small talk. The check had arrived. She was ready to leave now.
But Max took a sip of his half-finished beer, then set the longneck on the table showing he was in no hurry to go.
“Why are you so loyal to my grandfather?” he asked.
“He’s always been there for me.”
“When no one else was?” His gaze never left hers.
“Why would you go there?” she asked, defensive because his remark had hit way too close to the mark.
He raised one broad shoulder in a casual shrug. “I don’t know. Nine times out of ten someone will say ‘he was there for me when no one else was.’ I filled in the blank.”
“I don’t need you to fill in my blanks. In my experience, your grandfather is fair and caring.” When he opened his mouth to say something she held up a finger to silence him. “And before you ask, I’ve got plenty of support—family support.”
But this guy didn’t know the first thing about what she shared with her mother and sister. There was no point in discussing the fact that her father was a leaver, just like Max.
She dragged a finger through the condensation on her water glass, then met his gaze. “And I’m concerned about my family.”
“What about them?”
“My mother and sister work at Caine Chocolate.”
“Are they in management, too?”
She shook her head. “A college degree is a requirement, and I’m the first in the family to get one. Your grandfather created the position of manager of specialty and seasonal items just for me. He told me the idea came to him out of the blue on my birthday—” She stopped because she was blathering like an idiot.
“When?” Max asked.
“On my birthday. It’s February twenty-ninth.”
“Leap year?”
She nodded. “Jordan and Rachel, my two best friends, were born the same day. Because of the unusual date, our families kept in touch. Since we only have a birthday once every four years, we celebrate together. This year it was in New Orleans.”
“And that’s when my grandfather came up with the idea?”
“Yes,” she said, an odd feeling raising goose bumps on her arms. That was the night they’d recovered the tacky brass lamp, à la Aladdin. The grateful shop owner dressed like a gypsy, had insisted they each rub the lamp and make a wish. Hers had been money and power—not that she was going to share that with Max. He’d think she was crazy.
“Mr. Caine waited to announce my promotion until I had my degree in my hot little hand.” Had her wish been granted with the promotion? No, that was too weird.
Max looked at her. “After doing the math, it occurs to me that it took you a while to get that important piece of paper. I know you’re brighter than the average bear. I have to ask—what took you so long?”
“I had to work full time to pay for college and help out at home. That tends to slow down the process. But I’m determined to make up for lost time.”
“Well your promotion is a good start.” He took a sip of beer. “But I always suspected you were determined enough to take over the world.”
There would never be a better time to ask. “Are you back to take over the company for your grandfather?”
“Why would you think that?”
“Obviously he isn’t getting any younger. His health is fragile. You haven’t been back until now. I just wondered if—”
“The buzzards were circling?” he interrupted, a muscle contracting in his cheek.
“Actually—yes.”
“No.” He met her gaze. “I don’t want or need Caine Chocolate. You have more ties to the company than me. In fact, I could ask you the same thing. Do you have your eye on taking it over?”
“There are a lot of people more qualified than me.”
“But you’re the one who’s making up for lost time.” His eyes narrowed.
“If the opportunity presented itself, I wouldn’t turn it down. But I respect the fact that it’s a family-owned company. If you want to fill in some blanks, there’s one.”
“Okay. But I don’t understand why you’re so hostile.”
It was too much to hope he hadn’t noticed. Normally, she was able to hide her feelings. In fact, she was feeling bad about all the one-liners she’d lobbed his way. And why had she done it? A lot of years had passed since they’d talked and she’d developed a crush on him. Was that enough reason for her grudge? Was she that weird?
Or was it because he’d been her first crush? As hard as she’d tried, she hadn’t been able to forget him, probably because he had been her first. So to speak. The second time she’d let herself care about a man, her bad choice had made her life more difficult than it had to be. But Max had been her first personal experience in the curse of the Gallagher women. He was the first to show her men leave.
And it didn’t bother her anymore that he’d left her. It was the cavalier way he’d completely turned his back on his grandfather that fried her grits. “You think I’m hostile?”
“Come on, Ash. I’m a lot of things, but stupid isn’t one of them.”
“Okay. You want to know why? I’ll tell you. It’s your behavior.”
“Excuse me, but I haven’t seen you for ten years. What do you know about my behavior?”
“I know you walked away without looking back.”
“Has anyone ever told you there are two sides to every story?”
“I’m aware of that. Let me point out that adversity doesn’t build character, it reveals it. Your behavior revealed that when there’s a bump in the road, you’re the kind of person who walks away and never comes back. Instead of trying to work things out.”
“There was nothing to work out.”
Anger ballooned inside her. “If that’s true, why did he hire a detective to find you? Why did he follow your career and save every scrap of information he came across about you?”
“You’d have to ask him.”
“No, I don’t. Because actions speak louder than words,” she said. “The way he repeatedly contacted you about coming back. How profoundly hurt he was when you ignored his seventieth birthday party. He knew you received the invitation, by the way.”
“I was working.”
“That’s not good enough. And you didn’t bother to RSVP. You didn’t even contact him and lie about why you wouldn’t be there. You just ignored him.”
He folded his arms over his chest. “Did it ever occur to you it was kinder that way?”
“No,” she said, and her voice shook.
His gaze narrowed as he studied her. “Are we only talking about the fact that I haven’t been back to see my grandfather?”
“Not entirely.” Not if she was honest.
“Okay. Then you need to give me a little more information.”
“How about the fact that you stood me up?”
“What?” He frowned. “When?”
Oh, swell. He didn’t even remember. Could this get worse? “Never mind. It’s not important. Let’s drop it.”
“Let’s not. You’re ticked off about something. Put it all on the table so I can defend myself.”
She took a deep breath. “Before you left town, I was grounded for a month. The deal was I went from summer school to the chocolate factory so my mother could keep an eye on me while she was at work.”
“I remember.”
“You went out of your way to talk to me. Every day at lunch.” The anticipation of seeing him had been the main reason she’d gotten up every morning during that time. “You even promised me a post-punishment meal, somewhere other than the company cafeteria.”
“I did?”
“Yeah.” Why hadn’t she just agreed that her hostility was all about his grandfather? In this case, honesty was not the best policy. “We had a date…I mean we’d agreed on a place and time to meet. You didn’t show up. A couple days later it was all over town that you’d left.”
He leaned toward her and rested his forearms on the table. “It slipped my mind. I’m sorry.”
“Me, too.” Sorry that the memory could still bother her even a little.
“Did it ever occur to you that I might have had a good reason for leaving?”
“No. I was fourteen.”
“And now you’re twenty-four. A grown-up. Isn’t it possible something came up that took precedence over the plans I made with you?”
She looked at him, remembering. She’d waited hours on her front porch for him to pick her up as promised. Every time the phone had rung, she’d raced inside to see if it was him. But it never was. What was so important that he couldn’t even call to let her know he wouldn’t be there? It took a long time for her to grow up enough to see that she’d been nothing but a sappy dreamer, and he’d duped the dope. And now it didn’t matter.
“Sure, it’s possible,” she said.
“Your sincerity is underwhelming.” A muscle contracted in his jaw. “So I have to conclude that either you blow things out of all reasonable proportion. Or—”
She knew she was going to regret asking. “Or what?”
“I’m paying for what another guy did to you. Just a shot in the dark,” he said shrugging.
And that was another shot too darn close to the mark, she thought. “You’re not paying for anything. Speaking of which,” she said, “what do I owe you for dinner?”
He put a credit card on the check and signaled the waiter. “Nothing. Better late than never. Consider it your post-punishment meal.”
“Thank you.” She stood up. “I have to go now.”
She walked through the restaurant not much caring whether or not he followed. It was irritating to realize he could be right. Her animosity just might be out of proportion to his crime. Her inner child could be throwing an unwarranted melodramatic tantrum. So the best solution was to give her inner child a timeout.
She drew in a deep cleansing breath when the evening air hit her. The sun had set and a breeze cooled her cheeks. Behind her she heard the door to the restaurant whisper open. The hair at her nape prickled, and she knew Max stood there.
He stopped beside her, holding his suit jacket by one finger after slinging it over his shoulder. “I’ll take you back to your car.”
She nodded. “Thanks.”
When she reached out to open the car door, his hand brushed hers as he grabbed the handle and let her inside. Why did he have to be a gentleman? Worse, why did she have to feel warmth and that tingle from his slight touch?
She wanted him to be bad to the bone. She needed him to have a sleazy rap sheet she could add to. So far, all she had on him was standing her up, leaving without saying goodbye and ignoring his grandfather. That was unforgivable. She couldn’t understand why he’d rebuffed the older man’s attempts to patch up their relationship. And seeing the soul-deep hurt on the face of the kindly man who’d been like a father to her made her angry.
They drove in silence to the company parking lot and Ashley directed him to her small compact in the far corner. He stopped the BMW beside it.
“Ashley?”
She opened the door. “What?”
“Are you going to look for him?”
She didn’t need to ask who he meant. “Do you think it’s necessary?”
“I think the sheriff is probably right that he’ll turn up when he’s ready.”
“But?” she asked, feeling he had more to say.
“I’m action-oriented. If there’s a problem, I fix it.”
“So what are you saying?”
He raked a hand through his hair. “I guess I’m saying that it’s getting late. The professionals need to do their thing. But if there’s no news by morning, I’m going to look again on my own.”
She turned her head and met his gaze in the harsh overhead light. She thought she saw a flicker of something in the depths of his blue eyes. “You’re concerned about him, aren’t you?”
“Of course not.”
“You’re trying to pretend you don’t care.”
“That takes too much energy,” he denied. “After I see him, I’m gone. The sooner he’s found, the better.”
“Okay.” She slid out of the car, then rested her hand on the door to slam it. Hesitating, she caught her top lip between her teeth.
“Tomorrow is Saturday,” he said, stating the obvious.
“Yes it is. Why?”
“If you’re not doing anything, would you help me look for him?”
“Why?” she asked again.
“Because you know him. And I have a feeling you’re going to do it anyway. We could pool our resources. Two heads are better than one.” He smiled suddenly, and she felt the power of it all the way to her toes. “I’m staying at the estate.”
“Thanks for the breaking news.”
“If I don’t call to let you know he’s turned up, meet me there.”
Against her better judgment she said, “Okay.”

Chapter Three
The next morning, Ashley parked her little car in front of the Caines’ impressive English Tudor-style house. Her heart pounded and she told herself it was all about her surroundings and not the prospect of seeing Max Caine’s smile. She hadn’t heard from him and that meant there’d been no word from the senior Mr. Caine. Concern trickled through her though she told herself there was no cause for it.
After sliding out of the car, she stared at the brick-lined steps leading to the double mahogany doors with beveled leaded glass ovals in the center of each.
“Motivation for higher education,” she mumbled.
Ten years ago she’d been grounded for nearly flunking her first year in high school. She’d taken summer classes to repeat algebra and history. Every day on the way into town, her mother had driven her past the Caine estate and told her she could have a house like this if she worked hard and went to college. The visual aid was seriously effective in convincing Ashley to put her nose to the educational grindstone.
If not for her unfortunate brain seizure in her senior year, aka falling in love, at this moment she’d be well on her way to achieving her goals. Romance had convinced her never to give up anything for a man.
She rang the doorbell and waited. Several moments later her ring was answered. Max stood there in worn jeans that fit his lean waist, hips and thighs like a second skin and a biceps-hugging black T-shirt that made him look every inch the rebel she remembered. His exploits were legendary. Especially the cherry bomb in the gym bathroom, climbing in Rita Mae Whitmire’s bedroom window while her father stood guard on the front porch, and letting the air out of Sheriff Kent’s tires.
She swallowed. “Good morning.”
“Hi. Come on in,” he said, opening the door wider for her to precede him into the house.
“Any news on Mr. Caine?”
He shut the door and met her gaze. “I just got off the phone with the sheriff and he had nothing new to report. There have been no Bentley Caine sightings.”
She let out the breath she’d been holding. “Okay. So what do we do?”
“Have you had breakfast?”
“I didn’t have time—”
“Follow me,” he said.
“But shouldn’t we get to work looking for your grandfather?”
“We will. But I can get more searching out of you if you’re fed. It won’t take long.”
“I’m fine. I never eat—” She stopped when it sank in that he was ignoring her and she was talking to his retreating back. A nice one it was, too—broad shoulders, narrowing to a trim waist and a fine example of why women go gaga over a man’s rear end.
She looked around as she went after him. Surprisingly, the inside of her dream house wasn’t flashy, but homey and comfortable. And big, big, big. The family room, with its high-volume ceiling, featured a large area rug over the wood floor where a beige semicircular corner group sat in front of an imposing floor-to-fourteen-foot-ceiling river rock fireplace. The dining area was filled with an oak ball-and-claw-foot table, ten chairs and a matching buffet grandly holding a space against the wall.
The kitchen was large, really large. An island in the center had beige and black-flecked granite tops that coordinated with the rest of the counters. The refrigerator had a false front that matched the cupboard doors. A combined oven and microwave, with a gas cooktop beside it, were tucked seamlessly into the expanse.
“I’ve only seen the house from the outside,” she said. “The inside is pretty incredible, too.”
He glanced around. “I suppose.”
“How could you leave it?”
One of his eyebrows lifted questioningly. “I believe you know why.”
“I know what you told me, but I still don’t understand why. Families fight. They work it out.”
“Some don’t.”
“My family struggled with a budget for as long as I can remember. You were born to this and walked away. I just don’t get it.”
He took a mug from the cupboard and poured coffee into it, then handed it to her. “Milk or sugar?”
“Black’s fine. Are you going to answer my question?”
“Why did I walk away?” He leaned against the counter and folded his arms over his broad, muscular chest. “Some things are more important than four walls, no matter how much square footage and luxury those walls encompass.”
“Such as?”
“Loyalty and integrity.”
Interesting choice of words. She remembered a younger, still cynical, and every bit as sexy version of this man who’d befriended a geeky, hostile teenage girl. Now, high-profile magazines often showed his chiseled features in photos with beautiful, powerful female executives on his arm. Which one was the real Max Caine?
“Loyalty?” she said, then sipped her coffee. “Your grandfather kept tabs on you. He told me when you got your master’s degree. He shared news of the successes of your consulting business. And he told me he contacted you to try and mend fences.”
She found that callous and unfeeling, at odds with the young man who’d given the time of day to a nerdy fourteen-year-old. And if he did, in fact, have the emotions of an ice cube, why was he back now? Was he telling the truth when he’d said he would only be there long enough to see his grandfather, then catch the first plane out?
“When someone takes a shot at you, it’s not especially bright to give them another opportunity,” he said.
A shot at him? What was he talking about? That implied he felt wronged. But— No. She wasn’t going to do this. She refused to waste any more energy on Max. Since he’d turned up in her office yesterday, she’d spent way too much time analyzing his motivations. And that made her cranky, curious and cautious in equal parts.
“Okay. Obviously we’re going to have to agree to disagree. The sooner we start looking for your grandfather, the better,” she said. “If you insist on feeding me breakfast first, let’s get it over with.”
“What would you like?” he asked, his voice dropping to give the words the improper tone of double entendre.
Her heart skipped and she was annoyed at her involuntary response to him. “Are you going to call the butler to whip something up?” she said, struggling to keep her own voice from slipping into breathlessness.
She wasn’t used to this give-and-take between the sexes. Until last night’s dinner with Max, it had been a very long time since she’d been alone with a good-looking man. Her focus on school to the exclusion of almost everything else might have been too narrow. All those college classes hadn’t prepared her for social situations. But she suspected a plethora of social awareness still wouldn’t have prepared her to deal with Max Caine.
“Actually,” he said. “I’m pretty good at whipping up a few things.”
She’d just bet he was. Flirtation. Seduction. Surrender. “Toast would be fine,” she said. “And quick.”
“I’ll throw in some scrambled eggs. It won’t take long, then we can get down to business.”
As Max quickly and efficiently rustled up the appropriate ingredients and cooking utensils, Ashley watched him work. The island between them gave her the illusion of a safe personal space.
Until seeing Max again, she’d thought time and maturity had put into perspective the magnified disillusionment of a fourteen-year-old girl. She was a grown woman who still felt the pull of his magnetism all the way to her toes. It was impossible for her to ignore the way his muscles rippled beneath the snug, soft fabric of his T-shirt. Her stomach contracted at the sight of his sleeves tightening around his biceps with every movement of the spatula.
She blew out a discreet breath when he finished and set a plate of eggs and toast on the island in front of her. Holding out his hand, he indicated she should sit on one of the bar stools there.
He refilled the mug he’d been using and joined her, resting his forearms on the counter. “Obviously Bentley’s important to you. Enough for you to give up your day off.”
She scooped up a forkful of fluffy egg and slid it into her mouth. After chewing for several moments she said, “Like I said, he’s always been there for me. He’s been like a father.”
“The father you never had?”
She didn’t remember telling him that. “Why would you assume? Are you filling in the blanks again?”
“Something like that.”
“It’s even more than that,” she said, not confirming or denying the truth of his words. “Mr. Caine has done a lot for me. How can I abandon him when he might need help?”
He studied her for several moments, then nodded. “Okay. I guess we have to agree that we’ll never fully understand each other’s motivation. And move on.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
He grabbed a piece of paper she hadn’t noticed on the counter. “Speaking of plans, I’ve been thinking about the best way to go about this search. Someone needs to be here in case he shows up. Chip is going to—”
“Chip?”
“The butler,” he said, the corners of his mouth turning up. He obviously realized that the name was completely at odds with the profession of gentleman’s gentleman. “He’s going to man the phone. Call hospitals and other places I’ve instructed him to contact. You and I will do the mobile portion of the search.” He put the paper flat on the countertop and turned it so she could see it. “I’ve done a spreadsheet of places to look for him and the most efficient way to accomplish the task. I need you to look it over, think about any place I might have neglected to put down.”
She bit into her toast and chewed. “I’m impressed.”
“Okay.” One corner of his mouth tilted up. “Why?”
“You’ve obviously spent a lot of time and energy on this. A spreadsheet, for goodness’ sake. Is that characteristic of a man who doesn’t care?”
“I live for spreadsheets. Logic and organization are what I do. Don’t read anything into it.”
“No? Isn’t there the tiniest possibility that you’re here to reestablish a relationship with your grandfather?”
He huffed out a breath. “Nope.”
“Really?” She studied him. “There’s not even a slight chance that you might need family after all?”
“I don’t need anything from anyone, especially my grandfather.”
“Okay.” She finished off the other piece of toast, admitting to herself she felt better after eating.
“I’m only here because I’m between consulting jobs and have some time on my hands. And you called.”
Max rested his elbows on the counter and leaned forward, observing her without a word. He’d wondered if his attraction to Ashley would evaporate. He got his answer when his gaze zeroed in on her, focusing on her mouth, the full softness of her lower lip and the tantalizing curves of the upper. Intensity simmered through him along with a heat that couldn’t be explained by the summer weather. It picked up speed and power as it ricocheted through him like a fireball. He wanted to kiss her. Throw caution to the wind and give into temptation. See if she was as soft and tantalizing as she looked.
“How many square feet did you say these four walls encompass?” she asked.
He blinked and met her gaze. “I don’t believe I said. But if memory serves, about seven thousand.”
“Not enough,” she mumbled.
“What?”
“I said time’s up.” She rested her fork on the empty plate. “We have to get out there and find Mr. Caine.”
Footsteps, slow and heavy, sounded on the wood floor behind her. “I didn’t know I was lost.”
Max straightened and stared over Ashley’s head. His heart pounded as the years melted away and he became an uncertain boy facing his stern, unyielding guardian. Bentley Caine looked older, his face thinner and more creased than Max remembered. Had he shrunk? His memories were of a man as tall as a tree and twice as hard.
“Hello, Bentley,” he said, forcing a casual tone.
Ashley slid off her stool and hurried over to him. “Are you all right, Mr. Caine?”
“I’m fine,” he answered. “I’m surprised to see you, Max.”
“Are you?”
Max thought the old man’s voice was different. Time had stolen some of the vigor from his normally booming tones. His grandfather’s hair was pure white now, not the salt-and-pepper shade he remembered. Bentley Caine had aged. There was a time when Max had thought nothing could touch the tough old man, not even the hands of time. At least his blue eyes still snapped with attitude.
“Yes. I thought it would be a waste of Ashley’s time to call and ask you to come home.”
“Not home,” Max retorted. The old man had made it clear a decade ago this estate had never been his home. “I came back to town.”
Bentley walked across the room and stopped on the other side of the island. He smiled. “It’s good to see you, son.”
“I’m not your son.” He put his hands on his hips. “Where the hell have you been?”
“We’ve been so worried,” Ashley added.
Max didn’t look at her. “When I got to the hospital they told me you walked out.”
“That I did.” He sniffed. “Coffee smells good. Any left?”
Max poured him a cup and set it on the other side of the island where his grandfather had taken a seat.
The old man took a cautious sip of the steaming liquid. “Not as good as The Fast Lane, but it’ll do.” He smiled at Ashley, who stood beside him. “I stopped in there this morning and Sam Fisher said the two of you were looking for me yesterday. I came home as soon as I knew you were here.”
“Why did you leave the hospital?” Ashley rested an elbow on the island as she studied him.
“‘Angels of mercy’ my backside. They’re a bunch of damned idiots,” he grumbled. “Kept telling me to rest then woke me up every fifteen minutes to poke, prod, or pour something down my throat. How’s an old man supposed to get any rest under those conditions?”
“Where have you been?” Max demanded. “Why didn’t you come home?”
“Went to a hotel where no one could find me. I didn’t want to be bothered.” A gleam crept into his eyes. “Although if I’d known you were here…”
Ashley sat on the bar stool beside his grandfather’s. “I’m glad you’re all right, Mr. C. But the doctor said you have to take it easy.”
“How am I supposed to do that?” Bentley said. “Got a company to run and folks depending on me. I have to get back to work before things fall apart.”
“You can’t,” she protested. “It’s against doctor’s orders. You need to take it easy and get your strength back.”
The gleam mutated into a crafty expression. “I’ll stay home.”
“Good,” Ashley said, smiling at him.
Max braced himself. Bentley Caine was a sly fox. He wasn’t the only one who’d kept up on news. Ashley had said the fruit doesn’t fall far from the tree, but she was wrong. Max wasn’t anything like him.
Bentley took another sip of his coffee, then set the mug down. “I’ll take the time to rest before going back to work if my grandson will agree to run the business while I do.”
Max stiffened. That was a classic Bentley move—getting his way and looking like a saint. He should have seen it coming and blamed Ashley for his mental lapse. She’d fogged up his radar. His senses had blurred when he couldn’t take his eyes off her mouth and his mind wouldn’t let go of the urge to kiss her. In her orange and yellow sundress with skimpy straps and all that red hair, she reminded him of a firecracker waiting for the right spark to set it off.
Max had been off balance when his grandfather had walked in. The crafty devil had seen an opportunity and taken it. “Ten years ago you didn’t trust me to sweep the floors. Why would you want me to run the company now?”
“Because you’re a Caine.”
“I was a Caine when you accused me of stealing the family chocolate recipe and selling it to our competitors.”
Ashley’s gasp of surprise told him she hadn’t known the whole story. But he tore his gaze from her surprised face and looked at the old man. Hurt, disillusionment and anger crashed over Max like waves egged on by a storm. He hated that it felt too much as it had ten years ago.
Bentley sighed and shook his head. “By the time I found out who actually stole the formula, you’d left town.”
“Why didn’t you go see Max?” Ashley asked.
“It wouldn’t have done any good.” He smiled wanly, looking every one of his seventy-two years. “But now you’re back. We can—”
Max slammed his palm on the counter and savored the stinging that reverberated all the way up his arm to his shoulder. “There is no we. And I need to get my head examined for coming back here. If you’d been in the hospital like a normal cardiac patient, I’d have paid my respects and been on the first plane back to California. That was the plan. But you had to disappear.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “Now that I’ve seen you, I can go back to the original plan. I’m going to catch the next plane out.”
“What will it take to get you to stay?” the old man asked.
He was about to say nothing could make him change his mind. Then Max made the mistake of looking in Ashley’s direction. Pity was painted all over her face. He hated that. At the same time, all he wanted to do was pull her into his arms. What was that all about?
He was a success in his own right, in spite of the old man telling him he wouldn’t amount to anything. It had taught him not to turn the other cheek or give someone another shot. He remembered his grandfather saying never show weakness, never admit you’re wrong. Max wondered if that was why he’d come back, to hear Bentley Caine admit he’d made a mistake.
“How about an apology?” he said.
His grandfather sat up straighter and folded his arms over his chest. “I’ve said all I’m going to say.”
“Me too,” Max snapped.
He turned on his heel and walked to the front door, opened it and went outside. He jogged down the steps and stomped away from the house. Behind him he heard footsteps crunching on the cement drive and increased his pace.

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