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,
