was funny, given what he knew about her family, the way that she talked like a little private school princess. But he knew she’d gone to elite schools on the East Coast, coming back home to Oregon for summer vacations, at least when her family wasn’t jet-setting off somewhere else.
They were the wealthiest family in Logan County, with a wine label that competed on the world stage.
Her father, James Maxfield, was a world-class visionary, a world-class winemaker…and a world-class bastard.
Holden had few morals, but there were some scruples he held dear. At the very top of that list was that when he was with a woman, there was no coercion involved. And he would never leave one hopeless, blackmailed and depressed. No.
But James Maxfield had no such moral code.
And, sadly for James, when it came to dealing out justice to men who had harmed someone Holden cared about very much, he didn’t have a limit on how far he was willing to go. He wondered what Emerson would think if she knew what her father had done to a woman who was barely her age.
What he’d done to Holden’s younger sister.
But then, Emerson probably wouldn’t care at all.
He couldn’t see how she would not know the way her father behaved, given that the whole family seemed to run the enterprise together.
He had a feeling the Maxfield children looked the other way, as did James’s wife. All of them ignoring his bad behavior so they could continue to have access to his bank account.
“I just got here today,” he said. “Staying in one of the cabins on the property.”
There was staff lodging, which he had found quaint as hell.
Holden had worked his way up from nothing, though his success in real estate development was not anywhere near as splashed over the media as the Maxfield’s success was. Which, in the end, was what allowed him to engage in this revenge mission, this quest to destroy the life and reputation of James Maxfield.
And the really wonderful thing was, James wouldn’t even see it coming.
Because he wouldn’t believe a man of such low status could possibly bring him down. He would overlook Holden. Because James would believe that Holden was nothing more than a hired hand, a lackey.
James would have no idea that Holden was a man with a massive spread of land in the eastern part of the state, in Jackson Creek.
Because James Maxfield thought of no one but himself. He didn’t think anyone was as smart as he was, didn’t think anyone was anywhere near as important.
And that pride would be his downfall in the end.
Holden would make sure of it.
“Oh,” she said. She met his eyes and bit her lip.
The little vixen was flirting with him.
“Aren’t you meant to be in there hosting the party?”
She lifted a shoulder. “I guess so.” She didn’t seem at all surprised that he recognized who she was. But then, he imagined Emerson was used to being recognized.
“People will probably be noticing that you’re gone.”
“I suppose they might be,” she said. She wrinkled her nose. “Between you and me, I’m getting a little tired of these things.”
“Parties with free food and drinks? How could you get tired of that?”
She lifted one elegant shoulder. “I suppose when the drinks are always free, you lose track of why they’re special.”
“I wouldn’t know anything about that.”
He’d worked for every damn thing he had.
“Oh. Of course. Sorry. That’s an incredibly privileged thing to say.”
“Well, if you’re who I think you are, you’re incredibly privileged. Why wouldn’t you feel that way?”
“Just because it’s true in my life doesn’t mean it’s not a tacky thing to say.”
“Well, I can think of several tacky things to say right back that might make you feel a little bit better.”
She laughed. “Try me.”
“If you’re not careful, Little Red, wandering through the wilderness like this, a Big Bad Wolf might gobble you up.”
It was an incredibly obvious and overtly sexual thing to say. And the little princess, with her engagement ring glittering on her left hand, should have drawn up in full umbrage.
But she didn’t. Instead, her body seemed to melt slightly, and she looked away. “Was that supposed to be tacky?”
“It was,” he said.
“I guess it didn’t feel that way to me.”
“You should head back to that party,” he said.
“Why? Am I in danger out here?”
“Depends on what you consider danger.”
There was nothing wrong—he told himself—with building a rapport with her. In fact, it would be a damned useful thing in many ways.
“Possibly talking to strange men in vineyards.”
“Depends on whether or not you consider me strange.”
“I don’t know you well enough to have that figured out yet.” A crackle of interest moved over his skin, and he didn’t know what the hell was wrong with him that the first time he’d felt anything remotely like interest in a hell of a long time was happening now.
With Emerson Maxfield.
But she was the one who took a step back. She was the one whose eyes widened in fear, and he had to wonder if his hatred for the blood that ran through her veins was as evident to her as it was to him.
“I have to go,” she said. “I’m… The party.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said.
He took a step toward her, almost without thinking.
And then she retreated, as quickly as she could on those impractical stiletto heels.
“You better run, Little Red,” he said under his breath.
And then he rocked back on his heels, surveying the grapevines and the house up on the hill. “The Big Bad Wolf is going to gobble all of this up.”
“Emerson,” her dad said. “I have a job for you.”
Emerson
