house next door. She’d heard that the place had been rented. This was exactly what she needed. She would go over, introduce herself to her new neighbors and offer to help. A couple of hours spent carting boxes around and unpacking would be a great distraction.
She left her mug on the counter in the kitchen, pocketed her keys and stepped outside. Three men were already lowering the tailgate of the trailer. She looked around for a passenger car. A sleek, silver Mercedes pulled into the nearest visitor parking slot. Dana stared at the vehicle. A knot formed in her stomach as she realized it looked familiar. A man stepped out of the car and the knot tightened.
“Please, God, no,” she murmured as Walter MacAllister raised an arm in a gesture of greeting, then headed toward her.
The chief of staff was tall and fit, with chiseled features that made him look younger than his sixty years. The long stride was familiar because his son had inherited that powerful walk, along with the elder MacAllister’s good looks. She told herself not to panic, that Walter’s being there didn’t mean anything, but she knew she was lying. Walter and his wife had a beautiful house outside of Honeygrove. They had no reason to rent a town house...at least not for themselves. Which left another possibility too hideous to consider.
“Dana.”
Walter reached her side and took her hands in his. He was caring and friendly with all his staff, frequently hosting dinner parties at his house. His was an open-door policy that kept morale high and turnover low. Dana knew it was just his management style at work, yet she’d always felt he’d taken a special interest in her career. He was the one who had recommended her for her current position.
“While it’s always a pleasure to see you, Walter, these aren’t your normal stomping grounds.”
He released her hands and glanced around the complex. “It’s as lovely here as you said.”
She followed his gaze, taking in the delicate pink flowers on the black hawthorn trees, the trimmed ornamental bush, the quiet trickle of the water in the brook flowing through the grounds. “It is nice,” she agreed cautiously.
Another rumble filled the morning. She didn’t want to turn around and find the source of the sound. The knot in her stomach had doubled, as had her sense of foreboding. It would be too cruel of fate to do what she thought it was considering.
A black convertible pulled into the space next to the garage. Dana focused on the car because she had a bad feeling she already knew the driver.
The sports car was low and powerful, with scoops on the hood and wide racing tires. No doubt it could drive circles around her sensible Honda. She’d never been in a convertible—with over forty inches of rain a year in Honeygrove, they weren’t exactly practical. Still, it looked like fun. A metal decal by the passenger door showed an upright snake, while letters on the rear bumper spelled out Cobra.
Dana raised her eyebrows. She would have figured someone with the nickname “Prince Charming, M.D.” would drive an expensive foreign luxury car. Not an American-built muscle car.
She kept her attention on the vehicle as long as possible, but when Trevor came to a stop next to her, she had no choice but to look at him.
He flashed her a grin. She doubted it was his best one—he probably saved those for the actual seduction. This was his everyday smile, the one he gave away without thought. She tried to tell herself it wasn’t special, that there was no reason for her visceral reaction to his presence. For all the good it did. Her heart rate increased as her body responded to Trevor’s powerful magnetism. Damn the man.
“Dana,” he said, as if actually pleased to see her. “What do you think?” He motioned to the large moving van. “We’re going to be neighbors.”
She’d already suspected as much, but it was one thing to think it and another to hear him say the words. “Really?”
Walter nodded. “You always said such nice things about your complex that when Trevor asked me about a place to rent while he had his house built, I instantly thought of here. Fortunately, one of the units was available.”
“Talk about luck,” Dana muttered, shoving her hands into her back jeans pockets. This couldn’t be happening. Trevor couldn’t move in next door. It wasn’t just that she would have to see him from time to time; she would have to hear him. Their units shared two common walls. One was the living room, which wouldn’t be a problem, but the other was the bedroom. She resisted the urge to groan. She didn’t want to spend her evenings listening to him play Don Juan to whichever woman he might have up there.
“We’re ready, sir,” one of the movers called.
“Sure.” Trevor walked to the man and spoke with him briefly, then headed for the front door. He was gone for a few seconds, then the garage opened and he reappeared. “I know where I want all the furniture,” he told the men. “The boxes are marked by room.”
The movers began unloading the van. Trevor helped, giving directions when necessary and carrying in boxes. His red polo shirt hugged powerful muscles in his shoulders, back and chest. Worn jeans—obviously designed to drive women insane—had faded to white at the hips seams, the knees and the crotch.
Walter looked at Dana. “Is this going to be a problem for you?”
She had to forcibly withdraw her attention from his son. She probably looked like a hungry wolf eyeing a rabbit as a potential meal.
His hazel eyes were shrewd and saw far too much. Did he expect her to tell him the truth? She smiled broadly. “Not at all. In fact, I came outside to offer my help.”
The older man raised his eyebrows. “That was before you knew the identity of your new neighbor. I can tell what you’re thinking, Dana, but you don’t have to worry about Trevor. He won’t be making noise and keeping you up late. Rumors of his exploits are exaggerated.”
“Thank you,” she said, wondering if there was a parent alive who didn’t think the best of his offspring.
The three men continued to carry furniture into the town house. Dana trailed after them and found Trevor in the master bedroom. He told them where to set the large dresser.
She wasn’t sure what she’d expected as far as decor, but the simple wooden pieces in the bedroom looked faintly conservative. Maybe he saved flashy for the sheets. Black satin or possibly silk.
“I’m here to help/’ Dana said. “What would you like me to do?”
Trevor glanced at her. “I appreciate that, although I’m a little surprised.”
“That I would be neighborly?”
He nodded. “I don’t think I’m who you would have chosen to live next door.”
He had that right. Still, he was her boss’s son and she could make the best of a bad, albeit temporary, situation. “Not a problem. I hope you’re not worried about me. Cramping your style and all.”
“You’d be surprised how little that concerns me. There isn’t as much style as you think.”
“Good looks and modesty. Gee, Trevor, it’s amazing some woman hasn’t snapped you up before now.” She’d intended the comment to come out sarcastically, but oddly, as she spoke the words she found that she meant them. She knew from personal
