together. Most of what she knew about him had come from obsessive observation and listening to the other girls’ comments.
He’d been the living embodiment of every one of her fevered, youthful dreams. The proverbial black sheep, the bad boy every good girl would die to have look at her, hold her, touch her…take her.
Kate had fantasized about all that and more. In fact, it was the only reason she’d bothered to come anywhere near the lake property every summer. Shelby had always been around, and he’d been just enough of a creep even then that she’d done almost anything to steer clear of him. But the lure of seeing Donovan, dark shaggy hair, rippling belly muscles, piercing gray eyes, working around camp, even if just for a weekend, had been too strong to ignore.
Now, at thirty-four, and thinking herself quite past the age of feverish sexual fantasies, it was a shock to discover just how wrong she actually was.
“You—you read about my camp? Where?” she stuttered, feeling like a complete fool for being so off balance. If he knew the direction of her thoughts, he’d likely laugh himself sick. Though why it mattered what he thought, she had no idea. Old habits, indeed.
“There was a mention in the Times.”
“Oh.” Probably another snide little column about the idiotic heiress who’d given up her fortune, she thought with an inward sigh. What did people think, that when someone died, they just gave their inheriting family member a check for their bulk net worth? “So, uh, what made you come all the way up here? You’re still in the city, right? A…detective or something?”
She knew exactly what he was because she’d been the one who’d forced her mother into tracking him down when Donny Mac had his heart attack. It was one of the last times Kate had had contact with her mother, until right before her death. But he didn’t have to know any of that. “And I’m sorry, too. About your father. I know it’s been a very long time since…since it happened. But, still, I regret my mother didn’t get word to you in time, back then. It was—”
“Water under a very old bridge.” He appeared relaxed on the surface, but when he’d stepped closer, she could feel the tension emanating from him. It was costing him, the casual nonchalance.
“Some would say the same about you being here,” she said, feeling the same tension coiling inside of her. “Why did you come back, Donovan?”
“Mac,” he said, sounding irritated all of a sudden. “Just—it’s Mac.”
“Okay. Mac. Were you in the area on some other business? Why are you camped out on my porch?”
“I read about the problems you were having. In the article.”
That caught her badly off guard. No way could he have known about what happened earlier today. Unless—but no, how on earth could he be part of that? That was all Shelby being typical Shelby.
“With the vandalism, the developers leaning on you,” he went on when she didn’t immediately respond. “I thought I might be able to help.”
She frowned. “You came back here, after all these years, because you read in some article that someone was vandalizing the old camp property? Isn’t that taking your oath to protect and defend a little far? We’re a bit out of your jurisdiction, Detective.”
“I’m no longer with the department. I’m in the private sector now.” He rocked back a little on his heels. It was only then she noticed Bagel, sitting quietly by his feet.
Traitor, she thought. So much for dependable males of any species.
Donovan—Mac—followed her gaze downward. “Quite the watchdog you got for yourself.”
Kate had to fight to keep from reflexively calling the dog to her side, only half sure he’d listen. She didn’t need to look more the fool in front of Donov—Mac—than she already did. “That’s Bagel.”
He cocked one eyebrow. “You named your dog after breakfast food?”
“He’s part basset, part beagle. It’s just a combination of—never mind.” Her cheeks flushed a little, but she’d be damned if she’d apologize for her choice in canine companionship, much less the name she’d christened him with. “And he’s not a watchdog, he’s—”
“No kidding.” He leaned down and scratched Bagel behind his ears, earning an enthusiastic thumping of tail and a near orgasmic whimper of pleasure. This didn’t come as a surprise to Kate, who would have likely whimpered in near orgasmic pleasure if he’d touched her, too.
She struggled to rally her wayward thoughts and blatant physical reaction. Like you ever could before. “I still don’t understand why you drove all the way up here. Surely not because of some silly article. Were you here on other business?” And did it have anything to do with her camp?
He straightened and looked at her intently again, in that way he had of making her feel as though she was the only one in the universe. His universe. It was both disconcerting…and quite a turn-on.
She really needed to find a way to turn it back off again.
“I’ve done a little research,” he said, not directly answering her question. “You might want to reconsider the guard dog option. You’re being looked at pretty closely. Or your property is.”
Kate couldn’t keep up with the barrage of information her tired brain was being asked to process. First him showing up, now him standing there telling her he knew all about her business. It was all simply too much. Eighteen years had passed, yet here Donovan MacLeod stood, in the still rippling flesh, still making her heart pound. Her camp was under siege. She was under siege. By too many memories and too much responsibility. And, to be perfectly honest, more than a passing ripple of fear. She hadn’t really let herself think about it too much, focusing on Shelby as the source of her problems. Once she had him dealt with, then she’d force Sheriff Gilby to stop brushing off her concerns and figure out who was playing stupid games on her property.
“I appreciate the concern, but that still doesn’t explain why you just popped up out of nowhere to stick your nose in my business.” She wanted—no, needed—him to go away. She desperately needed to sort out her thoughts, and she couldn’t do that with him standing less than five feet away, pinning her with that intent gaze of his. Maybe it was better not to confront him so directly. After all, she really didn’t know him or what he was capable of, then or now. “Listen,” she went on, trying to sound conciliatory, “I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, really, I don’t. It’s just…it’s been a very long day, and I’m not really prepared to deal with this”—or you—“at the moment.”
Given her continued, rather visceral reaction to him, even after all these years, perhaps she’d never be ready to deal with him. She’d been so focused on launching her mission here, it had been quite a while since she’d enjoyed the company of…well, anyone, much less a member of the opposite sex. Bagel had pretty much been it in terms of companionship. But even she knew that excuse didn’t cover the extent of her reaction. It was as if all the intervening years meant nothing. Everything had changed…and yet nothing had changed. The last time she’d felt this pull toward him, she’d been a girl. Almost two full decades had passed, and she was a woman now…and yet the pull was only that much stronger. The kind of pull only an adult truly understood and appreciated.
“Why don’t you leave me the number where you’re staying, and maybe we can work something
