Читать книгу The Black Sheep And the Princess - Donna Kauffman - Страница 10

Kate didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or throw up. Her stomach was in knots, her emotions were all over the map…and her body was responding to Donovan’s grin as though she were still seventeen and prowling the campgrounds trying to sneak a glimpse of him with his shirt off.

“The only business I’m interested in is getting my camp up and running.”

“What’s the holdup on starting the renovations? How long have you been up here?”

“A month. I’m still assessing what needs to be done and organizing the labor I’ll need.” Although that had also proved to be a more difficult challenge than she’d anticipated.

“And?”

“And what? It’s not something that gets done overnight. My target opening date is next spring. I’m in good shape.”

“Tell me about the developers. Did the papers have that right? Is there interest from them on the property?”

“I—I wouldn’t know. Exactly.”

He frowned. “What do you mean, exactly?”

“Shelby and I still have some details to work out. He’s—still the legal owner of the property. Any dealings with developers would have been through him.” Something she’d thought long and hard about after Donovan had left last night. Could they be any part of the reason why he hadn’t shown up? She knew about the articles; her attorney had mentioned them to her during their last talk, that word had gotten out about the wacky heiress to Louisa Graham’s fortune giving it all away. She hadn’t read them or paid any real attention to what he’d been saying about them. She didn’t get the Times up here in Ralston. And her focus was on getting started on the renovations, not on what Manhattan society thought of her business dealings. But maybe she should have paid closer attention. The developer angle had been news to her.

“What do you know about Timberline?”

“Is that the development company? I’ve never heard of them.”

“The news story made it sound like—”

“I don’t care what they made it sound like. I haven’t heard of them. If it wasn’t for my lawyer—and you—I wouldn’t even know my inheritance situation was news.”

“They didn’t interview you for the article?”

She shook her head.

That quieted him for a moment.

The silence didn’t soothe her rapidly fraying nerves. “Is there a problem? What in the world did it say? I thought it was just some piece ridiculing me for giving up Louisa’s fortune.”

She felt his gaze on her.

“I wouldn’t have come up here if that had been the case. It specifically mentioned the vandalism and the developers. If you didn’t tell them about that, who did? Shelby?”

Her mind was spinning again. “I—I don’t know. I suppose it would have to have been.” Except her stepbrother didn’t know about the vandalism. Not through her anyway. And she seriously doubted he was keeping close tabs on the property itself. It had sat vacant now for almost a decade, and clearly no one had been paying any attention to it up to this point.

But then he hadn’t mentioned the developers to her either. Had he suddenly developed a renewed interest in his initial inheritance?

“What steps have you taken regarding the graffiti and any other damage?”

“What did the article say about the development deal, specifically?” she asked at the same time.

Mac answered first. “Not much, other than an attempted buyout had been made. And that there had been reports of vandalism on the property. Did you report that to the sheriff’s office?”

“Yes.” For all the good it had done. Gilby had assured her it was nothing but some local delinquents. Except Ralston, the nearest town to Winnimocca, was still almost an hour away. She had no “locals.” She’d gotten up this morning and called his office, only to be brushed off again. So she’d decided to head down and park herself in front of Gilby himself until he agreed to send someone out again to look at the new damage.

“Did you file a report?”

“For what it was worth, yes.”

“What’s been done?”

She debated telling him. She still didn’t know why he was really here. But a trip to see Gilby would give him the same information. “They sent someone out, but he essentially patted me on the shoulder and told me not to worry my pretty little head about it, that it was just some kids having a laugh at my expense. He said if I actually saw anybody and could give a description, or saw a vehicle on the property that I could get plate information off of, he’d be happy to follow up on that. Otherwise, it was a matter for me to take up with my insurance company.”

“But he didn’t happen to mention that anyone else’s property was being vandalized in the area.” Mac made it a statement.

She shook her head. “No. And I sort of thought ‘Go Home, Rich Bitch’ was pretty personal, but they didn’t seem to share my concern.”

“Is the sheriff aware of the particulars in terms of ownership of the property?”

She glanced over at him, her wariness returning. “I don’t know why he would be. Through me filing the report, he knows I’ve come back to rebuild here and open a camp. But I’ve also been making calls to some of the construction businesses in Ralston, trying to line up estimates.” Not that she’d been all that successful on that front either. She’d chalked it up to the old-fashioned mentality of most of the guys she’d talked to, who didn’t want to deal with a woman. They’d find out she was more determined than they were narrow-minded. She figured as soon as she hired one crew, and they realized she was serious and could pay them, the rest would come calling. “Ralston is a small town, word travels, so I’m sure it’s no secret around the whole county that I’m here and planning to reopen the camp. I assume they all believe I’m the owner, and I let them believe that. It’s merely a formality anyway.”

“When does it become official?”

She faltered. “I—I’m not sure.”

There was a brief pause; then he asked, “Where were you yesterday?” When she looked at him warily, he lifted his shoulders. “You were wearing a nice suit when I saw you last night, carrying a briefcase. I don’t imagine there’s much need for that in Ralston.”

“I was in the city for meetings pertaining to the property. But…it’s not finalized yet.”

She waited for him to poke and prod further, but he switched tactics. “I’m just trying to follow the same path the reporter did who put the article together. So far, their sources would—or could—include Shelby and the sheriff.”

“Or possibly anyone in Ralston. For all I know the vandalism is common knowledge.”

“Is the Sentinel still up and running?” Donovan was referring to the paper that was based in Ralston, but pretty much served everyone on this side of the county.

“Yes. I used it when I started compiling names and businesses to call.”

“Did they run a story on the vandalism?”

“No. I mean, not that I know of. No one contacted me. It might have been mentioned in the little sheriff’s crime column, but other than that—why do you ask? What difference would that make?”

“I don’t know yet. But, at least back when I lived here, it was big news if someone ran the only light in town. You’d think this would have been at least filler on the local interest page if nothing else.”

She shrugged, though if his goal was to further unnerve her, he was doing a good job. “Winnimocca isn’t all that close to town. Maybe it never came up.”

“And after telling the sheriff about your plans to open a camp for disabled kids, no one came out here to do a little local feature story either?”

“No, but honestly, Donov—Mac, I didn’t really assume they would. I haven’t even begun repairs yet. Maybe they’re waiting until there’s more of a story. Who knows?” She didn’t tell him that her other mission this morning, after seeing Gilby, was to pay a visit to the head of the Ralston Chamber of Commerce. Her intent there was to talk up the camp a little, see if she could get his support by bringing to his attention the future business the camp might provide to Ralston, in exchange for him talking it up a little with the local merchants, most notably anyone having anything to do with construction.

“Is there anyone else?”

Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t follow the question. “Anyone else what?”

“Anyone else who might be talking. Do you have any partners, silent or otherwise? Anyone helping you in any way or otherwise involved with you?”

She knew he was talking business. He sounded just like the detective he used to be, and she was definitely starting to feel interrogated. And yet she didn’t dare so much as glance at him. On the off chance there was anything personal behind the question. “No. Just me. I—I have connections with people I hope to hire as instructors and counselors, but in terms of ownership and management, it’s just me.”

He fell silent again, and maybe it was her own mounting tension over the increasingly negative situation she was finding herself in that made the air between them seem to crackle. But, at least from her perspective, the awareness and tension were operating on another level as well. She did risk a quick sideways glance at him then; she couldn’t help it. His profile was solemn, his jaw hard and set. His gaze was fixed on some point out the front windshield. And she had no clue what was going through his mind. Chances were he really was here on something of a lark, to help her out. Chances were, he didn’t want or desire anything else from her other than a job well done and maybe a polite thank-you.

She settled more deeply into the sprung cushion seat and tried to tell herself all the reasons why being disappointed with that probable reality was a really dangerous way to feel.

“What are you planning to do during the off season?” he asked rather abruptly.

“What off season? Spring is here. Perfect time to get work done. By winter all the exterior work should be done, leaving only the inside refurbishing for the colder months.”

“I meant what are your plans during the off season of the camp. Louisa wintered in Manhattan or whatever island beckoned.” She felt his gaze shift to her. “Where do you plan to hibernate?”

She wanted to ask him what that had to do with the vandalism and possible developer intrusion, but didn’t. Maybe his mind was following the same personal track hers was. Only what difference it made, she had no idea. “Are you—is your people-helper business based in the city?” she asked in return.

“No. Virginia. We have Finn’s father’s old place. It’s the base of operations for Trinity.”

She happened to know that “old place” was a majestic sea of acreage in the old-wealth section of Virginia horse country. “Trinity? As in—” She glanced at him in time to see his lips curve.

“Yes,” he admitted, “as in Unholy Trinity.”

“I can’t believe you guys stuck together all these years.”

Mac didn’t respond to that; instead, he shifted the focus back to her. “So, where do you live? I mean, normally.”

“I live in that cabin back at camp.” She knew what he was getting after, but she wanted to let him hang himself on his own narrow-minded preconceptions of her. It wouldn’t be the first time.

“Okay,” he said with the same exaggerated patience. “And this winter?”

“I’ll still be living in the cabin. It is my sole residence now.”

“Where were you before moving up here?”

“Not that it has anything to do with the situation at hand, but before moving here I lived in university-funded housing just off campus from where I was teaching.”

“You’re a teacher?”

She did look at him then. “I’m opening up a camp to help disabled kids learn new methods to help them cope with their limitations. What did you think I did?”

“I—I don’t know. I hadn’t really thought about it.”

She liked that little momentary catch in his voice. She doubted he was often caught off guard. Unreasonably cheered by having the upper hand, even if it was likely short-lived, she took advantage. “I’m not my mother, Donovan,” she said, purposely using his given name. And maybe he’d just have to get used to it. He simply wasn’t Mac to her. “I’m not here to play camp owner to the offspring of the wealthy as a way to springboard myself into the realms of high society. This will be a working camp dedicated to helping those who need it, whether they can afford it or not. I am already working with several nonprofits and other charitable foundations in hopes of raising money to fund scholarships or something similar for kids who can’t otherwise attend. And I won’t be handing off the day-to-day management to someone else. I will be running this place from the ground up. It is my dream to see this camp realized, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make it a reality.”

He didn’t say anything at first, then, finally, “I’m sorry.”

“For?” she said archly, still revved up from her little speech and not quite ready to abdicate her temporary throne.

“It’s been a long time. We really don’t know each other. I shouldn’t have made assumptions.”

It wasn’t the best apology she’d ever gotten, or even the most heartfelt, but coming from him, it was more than she’d expected.

She shifted her attention back to the road. “As for winter, I don’t plan for this to be a summer-only camp, though that will be when we’ll do the most work. Spring and fall will be heavily utilized and, if I can make it happen, I’m hoping to use the winter months as a teachers retreat where instructors can come and study and learn more about the alternative methods I plan to implement here.”

“An impressive agenda.” He paused for a moment, then said, “Not that it’s any of my business, but—”

She barked out a laugh. “Not that it’s stopped you so far.”

They both smiled a little. “True,” he said. “But what I was going to ask doesn’t really pertain to the case; it’s personal. I’m just curious.” So, she was just a case. She’d felt as though a lot of what was transpiring between them was personal. Being all business would certainly be smarter. Only she wasn’t feeling all that smart at the moment. “What are you curious about?”

“Why you gave up the fortune Louisa left you for a rundown camp. You could have helped a lot of kids with that money, opened up a camp anywhere.”

She smiled. “Oh, that.”

“Well, it’s a valid question.”

“It is, and, trust me, you’re not the first to ask it.” She laughed wearily. “My attorney was the first to ask me; only his language was a little more direct.” She steered the truck around a particularly tight curve and tried to decide how best to explain. Not that she had to. But for whatever reason, his opinion seemed to matter, at the moment anyway. He’d already found out she wasn’t the spoiled society girl he seemed to think she’d become. If she could dismantle a few other misconceptions, that was fine by her, too.

“Initially, it was a knee-jerk reaction to the disbursement of her assets. Both Shelby and I were shocked. Though, once that wore off, we both agreed that it was quintessential Louisa to pull something like that. One of the few things we ever agreed on.” She sighed a little. “Anyway, long story short, I’d been estranged from my mother for a very long time, since my college years. Shelby, on the other hand, had stood by her and helped her invest her money and build her empire. By rights it was his.”

“So why dump the camp on him? Was it more to punish him, then?”

“No, she got us both. Shelby’s father, George, was Louisa’s third husband, and Winnimocca was his when they married, so, by rights, it passed to Shelby. I was Louisa’s only biological and legal child, as she’d never adopted Shelby and went on to remarry after his father’s death. So, along that line of thinking, I was heiress to her personal throne, so to speak. Only neither of us wanted what we got. I blurted out that we should swap, both because it was the right thing to do, and, admittedly, because it thwarted my mother’s final exertion of control over us.”

“But then you, or your attorney, came to your senses…”

She smiled. “Well, yes and no. The emotional part of my reaction passed, but the rational part was still there.” She glanced at him. “Inheriting that kind of estate is a lot more complicated than people understand. It’s not like I won the lottery and someone was just going to hand me some huge check. Her money was all tied up in a variety of business investments, all kinds of things. Just randomly liquidating things in order to get an influx of cash to use to buy and fund a camp wasn’t all that simple, and would put a lot of people out of work. And that’s just the part that could be sold off. A lot of it was tied up in all kinds of partnerships and the like. Like I said, really complicated.”

“Actually, I do understand that a little. More than you might think.” He waved a hand. “But go on.”

She was going to ask him to elaborate, but decided to circle back to it when she was done. “I had no desire to step in and run or dismantle her empire.”

“Empire?”

“She was married to Trenton Graham—”

“I know. They mentioned it in the article. But they divorced.”

“Well, that particular divorce settlement pole-vaulted her the rest of the way into the stratosphere of society and wealth, and she’d apparently learned more than a thing or two about empire building while married to the king of empire building. More importantly, though, so did Shelby. He’d helped her build it, and was more than ready to tackle the whole thing. I was more than ready to let him. I just wanted my camp—his camp. Which he had no interest in and neither had Louisa. It wasn’t on their radar. They couldn’t have cared less about the property.”

“Still, he had to know—”

“Let me finish. I’m not a complete idiot. I might not have agreed with my mother’s methods, personally or in business, and I wasn’t around while she amassed most of what she’d left behind, but I wasn’t going to walk away from everything either. It took a while, but Shelby and I hammered out an agreement that resulted in me getting the deed to the Winnimocca property, along with a cash settlement that will enable me to cover taxes, reconstruction, and some seed money to launch the place. If I can’t make a go of it from there…” She shrugged. “Then I lose. Ultimately, I’m responsible for my success or failure. So I took the launch, but beyond that, it’s up to me. And, even with all the headaches and Shelby challenges and now whatever the heck is going on with the vandalism and maybe the people in town…I still wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“I can see your point.”

She laughed again. “Good, because a lot of people thought I was nuts. I guess I just want to be in control of my destiny, not following my mother’s. I’ll take the helping hand, whether she intended it or not, but nothing more. That’s Shelby’s domain and he’s welcome to it.” Or will be, she thought, if she could figure out why he hadn’t shown up to sign the papers. “So, now it’s my turn. You said you had personal experience with inheritance; only I didn’t think Donny Mac—”

“Not my father, Finn’s. I don’t know how much you knew of their relationship, but it sounds like the mirror image of yours and Louisa’s. Only in Finn’s father’s case, he was rather unscrupulous about how he went about amassing his fortune.”

“Whereas my mother just married hers,” she said with a smile. It was odd, talking to him like this, about things that she’d been so sensitive about before. It wasn’t like that with him. His pragmatism made it easier, she supposed. And his own past.

“Well, to each his own, but Finn had personal reasons why taking on his father’s empire—also a surprise inheritance—was untenable to him. He didn’t want it, at first, but, as you say, it’s not as easy as just saying no thanks. It was his whether he wanted it or not, and there was no Shelby in the wings. Like your mother’s situation, the inheritance was complicated. It took quite a long time, years in fact, but he did dismantle the empire, piece by piece, doing his best not to screw over the little people, but it happened on occasion. Even just putting the more unscrupulous ones out of business, there was no way to protect everyone, and there were innocent bystanders, so to speak. But the bigger plan was to use the money to help the very same people whose backs Harrison Dalton spent a lifetime stepping on in order to move up in the world.”

“So, some karmic justice, then. I can appreciate that.”

He smiled. “You know, I’m beginning to think you can.”

She shot him a smile. “Beginning to?”

He lifted a shoulder. “I’m still getting to know you.”

She shouldn’t have been warmed by his easy tone, the hint of a friendly smile on his lips. His apparent interest in getting to know her, case or no case. What she did know was that leaning on him, even a little bit, would be dangerous. She’d spent most of her adult life learning how to lean only on herself. Just because things were looking a little tricky didn’t mean she had to drape herself over the first shoulder that presented itself. “I’m surprised you didn’t already know more about all of it, what with all your skulking around.”

“I only had a day to dig. I hadn’t gotten around to that yet. I was too busy trying to figure out how dangerous this person is who’s getting his jollies from vandalizing your property.” There was a long pause; then he added, “And I don’t skulk. I track.”

She tried mightily to ignore his dry tone. He’d been a bad boy charmer in his youth, all moody and temperamental with the male campers, but never without a smile for anything in pink camp shorts or a tennis skirt. She’d been as susceptible as the next girl. Though he’d never once aimed that grin at her. For someone who’d passed the thirty-year mark a few years ago, she shouldn’t feel all giddy because Donovan MacLeod had finally aimed that heart-stopping grin at her.

“I do admire what you’re doing, Kate. Or trying to do. It’s a lot of work. Refurbishing the buildings for year-round use alone is quite an undertaking.”

“Trust me, I’m fully aware of the monumental task in front of me. I just want to settle whatever it is that needs settling, and get on with it. I mean, what’s the big deal about me taking on this old, unwanted property anyway?”

“Maybe it’s not as unwanted as you think it is.”

She sighed and tried not to think about that. What she wanted to believe was that there was some simple explanation for why Shelby was a no-show yesterday, and that they’d set another day and time, sign the papers, then she’d show the people of Ralston what a woman was capable of when her mind was set, and everything else would fall into place. “Maybe, maybe not. I’ll know more when I talk to Shelby. So, are we all done with the interrogation, Detective?”

He smiled at her dry tone. “I’m not interrogating. I’m researching, just trying to fill in as many of the blanks as possible. When will you be able to get started on the renovation work and construction? Do you have everything lined up?” He shifted slightly in his seat, which wasn’t easy considering his tall, broad-shouldered frame was all but crammed into the cab of her truck. A tall, broad-shouldered frame she was having an increasingly difficult time ignoring. It didn’t help any that she could feel his gaze pinned on her.

“That’s actually part of my agenda in town this morning. I’m going to see Sheriff Gilby about the latest graffiti hit-and-run; then I have an appointment with the head of the chamber of commerce to try and get a little goodwill established.”

“You say that like you expect resistance.”

“Oh, I didn’t expect it, but I’m getting it all the same.”

“Why? You’re bringing work in the short term and a customer base in the long run. They should be lining up to help you out. What’s the reaction been?”

“I’m not sure I understand it entirely, but I think it’s just old-fashioned resistance to working with or for a woman. I can’t actually hire anyone yet, until Shelby and I settle things, but—”

“And you don’t think that might be related to the vandalism?”

“I don’t know. I hadn’t put those two things together. The town isn’t exactly right down the road from the camp.”

“Well, if the townsfolk aren’t happy to see you, and someone is spray painting ‘go home’ on your trees, you might want to.” He shifted back. “Something’s not adding up here, Kate.”

She wanted to believe he’d spent too much time on the streets of New York City and therefore, had just jumped to the worst case scenario out of habit, but when he put it that way, it was hard to deny he might have a point. “It’s not like anyone has been hostile, or said a negative word. I’m just having a hard time finding my niche in town. I haven’t been here all that long. I figure once I actually hire someone, anyone, and they see I’m serious, they’ll be a little more excited about the possibility of getting some work from me. I chalked it up to them not wanting to commit labor and supplies to a job they don’t fully trust is happening yet, possibly turning down other work in the meantime.”

“And you might be right. But have you thought about the possibility that it might be more than old-fashioned prejudice at work here? Maybe they’ve gotten wind of the developer interest.”

She shrugged, suddenly feeling very inept and not liking it one bit. “I don’t know. I mean, I didn’t know about it, so I’m not sure it’s common knowledge, but then I don’t spend a lot of time in town. I’ve only been down a few times, for supplies and to gather information on the local construction businesses and the like. I haven’t exactly been a presence there.” Yet.

She wasn’t sure what direction his thoughts were taking, but hers were going in a number of disturbing directions all by themselves. As much as she didn’t want to believe it, it looked as if there was a possibility she was caught up in something a little more serious than she thought. She’d been so focused on getting things done with Shelby, she’d never taken the time to connect everything together. She’d just wanted to get her name in print as owner of the place, then figure out the rest.

“This isn’t your problem, you know,” she told him at length.

“I’m not going away, if that’s where you’re going with this. One way or the other, I’m here for the duration.”

Her eyes widened. “The duration of what?”

“The duration of however long it takes to resolve the problems you’re facing. At the very least, until you get your name on those papers and we make sure you’re not under any kind of serious threat from whoever is vandalizing the place. We should look into the developer end of things, too.”

“What could they possibly have to do with vandalizing my property?”

Mac shrugged. “They want something bad enough and can’t get it through proper channels…”

“I think you’re being paranoid.”

“And I think you should find out exactly what Shelby is up to, too. What contact he’s had with them. I’m telling you, it all probably factors in.”

“And you know this because…?”

“Because my instincts tell me so. And they’re rarely wrong. I wouldn’t be sitting here in this truck if I didn’t listen to them.”

He was so intent, so serious, so certain. It was unnerving, both his mere presence and his focus on what, by rights, was none of his business. She’d be lying if she said there wasn’t a tiny part of her that was grateful for his timely intrusion. But it was that timely part that still had her concerned. Maybe she was the paranoid one. “Exactly what kind of business is it that you three run anyway?”

Which should have been the first question out of her mouth when the other two names came up. They’d been known as the Unholy Trinity with good reason from the first summer they’d united at camp. If there was trouble brewing, the trail had inevitably led back to one of the three, or, as was more often the case, all three combined.

Kate hadn’t spent much time out there each summer, but between her brief jaunts and listening to her mother complain about, well, everything, it was no secret that the three of them hadn’t done much to make camp life run smoothly. Each of them was so different, but still a black sheep of sorts in his own way. Donovan was the bastard kid of the camp handyman, Donny Mac, who’d spent a fair share of time in the Ralston drunk tank, when he wasn’t beating up on his only son. Rafe was an inner city kid whose mom worked several jobs, one as a maid for some Wall Street shark who made himself feel better by sending her kid to rich kids’ camp every summer. He’d been a fish out of water with an attitude the size of the Empire State Building. He’d bonded with Donovan immediately.

Finn was the unexpected addition to the trio. Every bit as wealthy as his camp counterparts, if not more so, he should have fit right in at Camp Winnimocca. He was the stereotypical golden boy, from his blond, bronzed good looks to his big fat trust fund. By all rights, he should have been camp leader. Except Finn had been rebelling against his father, his own wealth, and his defacto place in the world, pretty much, it seemed, since birth. He’d intentionally aligned himself with the camp outcasts and all but dared anyone to challenge his choice in friends. In fact, he had challenged them, and their preconceived notions, all the time.

Kate had secretly admired, even coveted, his rebellious nature. But it wasn’t Finn’s gleaming perfection that had caught her eye, or fueled her midnight fantasies. The source of every single one of those had been Donovan.

“So if Finn spent years tearing down his father’s empire while you were chasing bad guys and Rafe was doing God knows what, when did you start this joint venture?”

“About eighteen months ago. Once Finn had everything set and control over his own destiny, so to speak, he brought us in.”

“Doing what, exactly?”

There was a pause. Then he said, “Helping people.”

She glanced at him. “In what capacity, exactly?”

“In whatever capacity they need us. I’m all for justice and the American way; it’s part of why I became a cop. I’m proof positive you can make anything out of yourself if you want it badly enough. This is the land of opportunity. Only, some folks don’t always get a fair shake. Either because they can’t help themselves, or because the system fails them, which it often does. Having been on the inside of it, it’s an understaffed, underpaid, overworked system, which, frankly, works far better than it should given the circumstances it operates under. I credit that to the human spirit of those involved. But there are insurmountable obstacles, both within and without. We…overcome those obstacles for people who otherwise can’t do so on their own.”

“And how do they pay you for these…services you provide them?”

“They don’t.”

“Finn ended up with that much?”

Donovan smiled. “Let’s just say it was more than enough seed money to start a global chain of your camps. In our case, we rather enjoy spending all of Harrison’s ill-gotten gains helping people. And Finn’s smart about money. He knows how to make money with money. Without stepping on anyone to do it.”

She glanced at him. “So, I’m one of your charity cases, then? Although I suppose the irony of you having to rescue me is somewhat satisfying, I’m still having a hard time with—”

“It’s not charity,” he said, cutting her off abruptly. “We fix things that need fixing. Things that shouldn’t have gone wrong in the first place. People benefit, yes, but they’re far from charity cases. They’re victims in need of a little extra help. When the system doesn’t work, or simply can’t work, we do. All three of us spent a lot of time trying to work it from the other side. Now we work it from our side.”

She sat back a little, surprised by the vehemence of his response. “Okay. So it’s a noble endeavor. I still don’t see where I rate your assistance. Even you admit you still thought I was living the high life, perhaps just dabbling in this little camp venture. Surely there are other, far more pressing cases out there.”

“There always are. More than we can do anything about. But we’re not a charity. We don’t advertise. We’re not Make-A-Wish. And it’s definitely not about being noble. If anything, it’s a purely selfish endeavor.”

“You help people out of jams and don’t charge them. How is that selfish?”

“We pick and choose who we help. Our reasons are our own. Sometimes because it’s the right thing to do, and sometimes because it feels good to stick it to someone who needs to be stuck.” He tensed his shoulders, then flattened them out, as if purposefully trying to control his temper. And she was reminded then of the angry, recalcitrant youth he’d once been. She’d be wise to remember that side of him was still there, too, no matter how deeply buried or tamed into submission.

“We’re fortunate to have the resources to indulge our little endeavor. And yes, it feels good—no, great—to be able to make good things happen, to set things right. But it’s not like we’re performing miracles here. We’re just making sure the good guys win every once in a while.” He grinned suddenly, and her entire body went on red-hot alert.

Yeah, she’d be real wise to remember all the sides to Donovan MacLeod were still there.

“I just wouldn’t necessarily say we always use good guy methods, is all.”

She slowed down as she rounded one of the last curves before the road bottomed out in the valley, heading across and into Ralston. “Exactly what kind of methods are you talking about?”

“Let’s just say we basically go by the all’s-well-that-ends-well motto. How we get there is the fun part. And nobody’s business but ours.”

She was almost sorry she’d asked. The three of them had taken mischievous behavior to new highs—and lows—back in the camp days. She couldn’t even imagine what that meant as adults…with endless funds at their disposal. “So,” she said at length, “if I’m not a charity case, then I’m what, some sort of joke to you guys?” She held up her hand. “I mean, you had no use for me or ‘my kind’ when you were young, and I’m not getting that your opinion of the privileged or wealthy has changed all that much. So this must have been quite amusing to you guys, helping out the poor little rich girl.”

“There is nothing remotely amusing about this job for me. Coming back here…well, I think I’ve made my opinion clear on that. I was honest when I said I really don’t know why I took this on. I just knew—we all did—that it was something we needed to do. Does it really have to be any more complicated than that?”

“No. But you’ll have to forgive me for being at least a little suspicious. After all, there’s no denying I am having a few problems getting the camp up and running. And then you bounce in from out of nowhere, riding to my rescue for no apparent gain, when, if you’d asked me up until that moment, I’d have said you’d probably enjoy knowing I was in trouble.”

“Who else could I be here helping? Shelby? Hardly. If it will make you feel any better, check with Finn or Rafe and talk to them. I’ll call right now.”

“On what? Cell service is highly unreliable.”

He slipped out a slender black and silver phone from his jacket pocket. “Satellite phone. Finn’s latest toy.”

“Awesome,” she said dryly, even as she had to restrain herself from asking to see it. Just because she didn’t live the high life any longer, and hadn’t for longer than she could remember, didn’t mean her head couldn’t be turned by the occasional bright, shiny object. Which was the very last thing she’d admit to Donovan, all things considered. “But it wouldn’t matter. Like I could trust them any more than I can trust you.”

His eyes widened at that. “When have I ever done anything untrustworthy?”

“You couldn’t stand the sight of me when we were young. You hated me and everything I represented. It was clear on your face every time I stepped foot on camp property. Of course, their having money didn’t keep you from charming the pants—literally—off of every other girl in camp, but—” She broke off when he started laughing. “What’s so damn funny?”

“You were jealous.”

“I was not! Why in the hell would I be jealous of—” She stopped abruptly, but it was far too late.

His smile died. Well, not completely. What remained was rueful and, if she wasn’t mistaken, a bit disappointed. “Why would you be jealous of the attentions of the son of the local drunk? Yeah, I don’t know the answer to that either. As to why I didn’t favor you with my apparently much wanted attentions way back when, I’ll be frank and honest with you. Something, by the way, I have always been and will always be, with you and everyone else.”

She didn’t say anything. She was too busy feeling exactly like the rich society bitch he’d always thought her to be. She slowed down to a stop in front of the train tracks that crossed the main road before entering town. Just her luck the lights were flashing and the bars were lowered.

Mac shifted his weight and turned toward her more fully this time, his shoulders filling up way too much of the rapidly shrinking space between them. She felt his hot gaze on her and was completely helpless not to turn and gaze directly back. Her skin prickled in awareness, her nipples tightened to two painful little points, and no amount of squeezing was going to stop the ache building between her thighs. She wanted to damn him for that, but she suspected the problem—as it had always been—was hers and hers alone.

So his next words stunned the hell out of her.

“I’ve wanted to put my hands on you from the very moment I first laid eyes on you. So badly I could taste it. I spent an inordinate amount of my summer months thinking about you, wondering when you’d show up, wondering if I’d make it through the torture once again without acting on it.”

She had no idea how to respond to that. “I—I thought you couldn’t stand me. The way you looked at me—”

“Could have melted the polar ice cap. You saw what you wanted to see.”

“What I saw was you smiling at every girl but me. With me, you were always scowling. Why?”

“I learned very early not to want things I couldn’t get for myself. So I never let myself want anything I couldn’t have. Except you.”

That shocked her into silence. When she finally found her voice again, it was tight, and a bit raspy due to her throat having gone completely dry. “Why—why did you think you couldn’t—”

He laughed rather harshly. “Oh, come on, you just admitted it yourself when you questioned why someone like you would be jealous of the attention someone like me would pay to other girls.”

“I didn’t say that. Not exactly,” she added, knowing she’d done exactly that. “I wasn’t speaking from my own perspective, just the expectations of our surroundings and, for that matter, of you.”

“Cop-out.”

Her cheeks burned. Mostly because he was right. “We were from opposite sides of the tracks. That was a fact I couldn’t change. Nor could I change that I was the owner’s daughter. Or that I led a privileged life that you did not. But that’s exactly what I’m getting at. What did or didn’t happen between us was more a product of our respective backgrounds, and the surroundings we found ourselves in, than a reflection of what we might have really wanted.” Too late, she realized what she’d admitted.

If she’d thought his gaze intense a moment ago, she’d had no idea of the intensity of which he was capable. Perhaps it was the close confines, the air between them growing more damp and humid as their body heat changed the temperature inside the cab of the truck. Or maybe it was simply Donovan.

“What did you really want, Kate?”

She looked at him for a long time, knowing she should shut this conversation down right then and there. Instead, she told him the truth. “I wanted you.” She leaned back, wishing she could put more distance between them. “There, ego satisfied now?”

He smiled, but it didn’t diminish one whit the heat in his gaze. “This isn’t about ego. I know you watched me. I know I might have talked my way into your fancy French panties.”

Her mouth dropped open. “How do you know what underwear I wore?”

He laughed then. “I flat out state I could have gotten into your pants anytime I wanted, and you’re indignant because I know what you were wearing under those prim little designer slacks?”

Her face burned again, and she folded her arms across her chest. He was overwhelming every part of her, physically and emotionally. It was too much all at once. She wasn’t prepared to handle this—or him. She should have never let him climb in her truck. Hell, she should have never let him on her property in the first place, not that he’d asked permission.

Thankfully, she could still do something about that.

Before she could open her mouth, though, Donovan reached over and fingered a loose tendril of hair that had escaped from the soft ponytail she’d put her hair in that morning.

She should swat his hand away, yet she discovered she was absolutely incapable of doing so. In fact, it took considerable will not to turn her head slightly so her cheek would brush the backs of his fingers. Honestly, she had to get him the hell out of this truck. And out of her life.

“I knew you wanted me, Kate. I might not have smiled at you, but I thought you understood the feeling was mutual,” he said, his voice an octave lower and more than a shade rougher. “With the other girls, it didn’t matter if they rejected me. Or if they went running back to their rich boyfriends after tasting what I had to offer. I knew I wasn’t anything more than a cheap thrill, but that didn’t bother me. In fact, it sort of amused me, to know I could have them, make them come back looking for more.”

She swallowed hard when he let his blunt fingertips slide down the length of the strand of hair, then let it go. She held her breath, wondering if he was going to touch her skin, touch…anything he wanted to.

“But you,” he said, his voice so quiet now, so deep, it vibrated the air in the close confines of the truck. “I couldn’t stand the thought of you looking at me like that. Thinking of me like that. With you it was different.”

“Why?” she managed in a choked whisper.

“You mattered.” He shook his head, that rueful smile flickering across his still handsome as sin features. “One of the mysteries of the universe, I guess. But I knew it when I laid eyes on you. And no one was more surprised than I was to discover that when I looked at you again, in that newspaper article, after all these years, all I’ve seen, all I’ve done…something in my gut twisted up like I was seventeen all over again.” He brushed the tips of his fingers over her lips, making her breath catch in her throat. “You always had that effect on me, Kate. I guess time and distance, and a lot of growing up, didn’t change that.”

“Is—is that why you came back, then? You had some wild reaction to a picture of me, so…you came back as some sort of personal test?”

His gaze dropped to her mouth, and it was all she could do not to wet her lips.

“Maybe that’s part of it. I don’t know. I do know one thing, though.” He pressed his fingers beneath her chin, tilted her head slightly. And she did absolutely nothing to stop him. “I no longer seem to have any restraint around you. Or maybe it’s just I see no reason to any longer. I’m not the insecure teenager I was back then, desperate for approval, terrified of rejection.”

“You were hardly that,” she murmured, surprised she could form words at all.

“I was exactly that, with those who mattered. It was a very short list. But you were on it.”

He leaned closer. She swallowed hard.

“Donovan—”

“Kick me out of the truck now, Kate.”

“I—”

“On second thought, don’t. Not yet.” He tipped her chin up farther and leaned closer. “At least not until I give you a better reason to.”