friend, had offered a solution. More like a bribe, Samantha thought. Marriage to Tom would enable her father to pay his creditors, the IRS being the main one, without having to declare bankruptcy. Whether he was capable of starting over again was another question entirely. She’d offered him her savings, but even a financial planner who made more than a decent living couldn’t put a dent in his delinquent debts. Not so for a man who bought and sold companies on a whim. Tom’s offer had been hard to turn down.
She might not care if the Reeds were the laughingstock of the country club set, but her father would. He had little left, and the club provided his only outlet for socialization since her mother’s death. Without it, he’d retreat, living in seclusion and depression. Samantha didn’t call that living, and she wouldn’t place her already-lonely father in such a position. Not if she could help it. And as Tom, the wealthy wheeler-dealer had informed her, she could.
He’d provide enough money to bail out her father in exchange for a wife, a hostess and a trophy on his arm. Any good-looking woman would fill those needs, but Samantha possessed one extra quality. She understood his business and knew how to deal with both his clients and his competitors. She saved him the time and effort of dating and disqualifying the empty-headed women who lined up to be the wife of a rich entrepreneur. His words, not hers.
With her last hours of freedom flying by, her dreams had come down to a hastily conceived plan to indulge in an erotic interlude with a sexy stranger. She’d even dipped into her savings to help the cause. She’d splurged on everything, including the rental car that lay still behind her. She shot the vehicle a disgusted look. If she wanted to have a no-strings, purely sensual affair with the most desirable man she could find, she had to reach her destination first.
Shielding her eyes with her hand, she glanced down the long stretch of highway. If she could even call Bloody Basin Road a highway to begin with. She’d driven south on a road named Golden Guts after leaving the rental place outside the airport and decided she preferred New York State’s numerical monikers to the grizzly images conjured up out West. Which way now, she wondered. If she remembered correctly, there had been a ranch-style establishment back a mile or so….
A slight breeze picked up as she lost track of the sun. Goose bumps prickled on her bare arms, legs and back, and she shivered. Lengthening her stride, she trudged on, forcing down the swell of regret and guilt that threatened each time she thought about her plan. Once she married Tom, she’d be the faithful wife he expected, but she wasn’t married yet. This week would have to substitute for the honeymoon she’d never have.
Some beginning she’d made. Frustrated with the slow pace and afraid she’d twist an ankle, fall on the side of the highway and be mistaken for roadkill, she pulled off her shoes before continuing. The pace picked up and so did the pain. Small rocks lodged in the soles of her feet as she walked.
By the time she saw lights in the distance, darkness had fallen. Her feet were raw, her throat parched and tears probably stained her cheeks. Desperate didn’t begin to cover how she was feeling. At this point, she’d give her body to the first man who offered her a place to sit, a shoulder to cry on and a cold drink. Not necessarily in that order.
“HEY, MAC, SLUMMING AGAIN?”
Ryan Mackenzie wiped down the glass top of the old wooden bar with a damp rag. “You know I can’t stay away from here,” he told the table of old men who frequented The Hungry Bear.
“I can’t believe you’d prefer this joint to that fancy spa you own.”
Mac glanced at the scarred paneled walls, the crooked pictures, the pool table in the corner and the dartboard in the back. He inhaled and smelled a mixture of nachos, tobacco and beer. “Believe it.”
“Give him a break,” the tallest of the men said to his friends. “He might have money now, but a boy don’t lose his roots.”
“And mine are embedded in the same land as you, Zee.” Mac recalled the small ranch-style house he’d grown up in and the almost identical house next door. He and his sister, Kate, had been just as comfortable in either one, due mainly to the warmth and humor of the older man in the corner.
Zee grinned. “Your soil is just richer now, Mackenzie.”
The boys all chuckled at that.
“So what are you doing here? Lady troubles?” one of the trio asked him.
“Not me. Bear’s got troubles,” Mac said, talking about Zee’s son, Mac’s best friend and owner of the tavern. Mac picked up a damp glass and began drying. “You know he’s off chasing after his woman. I’m playing bartender in his place.”
“Hope he gets her this time. Your drinks suck.” A round of cackles and hoots of laughter followed that remark.
“Whiskey’ll cost you double after that,” Mac muttered.
“Definitely a woman,” the last of the men said.
Mac ignored him. It would take a special kind of woman to get him down, and Mac had yet to meet his match. He glanced at Zee, recalling the older man’s happy marriage, one that mirrored the kind his parents had had. Not for the first time, Mac wondered if watching them had given him an idealized perception of what family life should be. Few relationships could live up to the standards he’d seen growing up, and even fewer women respected those same down-to-earth values both families had lived by.
Still, he couldn’t deny the fact that hotel life was lonely as hell and beginning to wear thin. Laughter from the corner of the bar drew his attention and he glanced at his watch. Soon enough, the younger crowd would come in and take over. Judging by the increasing noise and the older men’s rowdy remarks, it couldn’t happen too soon. Mac spent enough time at Bear’s bar to know the men were biding their time. Thursday was Ladies’ Night, and the eighty-year-old set got a thrill out of watching the younger beauties. They got pretty wild, too, and Mac was grateful he’d be spared wet T-shirt night during this shift.
“If I were you, I’d grab me one of them spa bunnies at that place you own, instead of serving up drinks to old geezers like us.”
“You’re not me, Earl.” Those spa bunnies wanted nothing more than a chance to catch some sun and a rich husband. And the ones who already had a husband came to The Resort for a quick fling and whatever else they could get from the guy they earmarked as a sucker.
Not only was Mac tired of watching the routine, he was tired of being the target. Which made his occasional stint as Bear’s substitute the perfect escape.
“Another round, Mac,” Zee called.
He threw a glance their way. “You aren’t halfway through the first.” The old men liked their whiskey the way they liked their women. At a distance.
He watched as Zee pushed aside the red-and-white checked curtain to look out the window. The decor could use some updating, Mac thought. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing if Bear finally got his lady after all. At least one of the two neighborhood boys would settle down.
“Looks like we got us a live one.” Zee clapped his hands with glee. “Coming up the stairs now.”
Mac knew Zee well enough to see past the jokes. The old man had been a father figure to the Mackenzie kids, Mac and his sister, since their own dad had died almost twelve years before. So Mac understood the loneliness that prompted Zee to act a little crazy in his search of fun, and the intelligence and humor that lay behind his penetrating gaze.
But that didn’t mean he’d let him harass an unsuspecting customer. “Leave ’em alone, boys.”
“You’re no fun, Mackenzie,” they spoke in chorus, just as the door opened wide and the sorriest sight Mac had ever seen stumbled through.
She was a lady…beneath the layers of desert grime. Black hair tumbled over her shoulders in wild disarray. Her shoes, heels from the looks of them, dangled from her fingertips as she limped inside the bar on long, shapely legs and bare feet.
A quick