KATE TOOK A sip of her rum and Coke and laughed. “Vanessa, you can’t be serious. Since when have you tossed anyone out of the bar without good reason? Just tell me what she did.” The Coast’s landlady glanced at her husband, who stood at the other end of the bar chatting with a couple of guys. “Dave will have something to say about me gossiping, but...” She wiggled her eyebrows. “Let’s just say the girl was in here looking for trouble. Whether that trouble landed her in bed with one of the locals or not.” Kate shook her head and smiled. “That isn’t even a story. After all that build-up, I thought...” She looked at the guy who moved in beside her. Good Lord, of all things male and glorious. She cleared her throat and dragged her gaze back to Vanessa. “Anyway—” “Well, hello there.” Vanessa deftly sidestepped and stood in front of the burning hunk of love who had just approached the bar. “How was your day? Is there anything you need?” Kate feigned intense interest in the mirror behind the bar, surreptitiously checking the stranger out. His gaze briefly met hers in the reflection, and she quickly turned toward the pool table, smiling into her glass. The man’s eyes were bright blue against his tanned skin. His hair was longer than she normally liked on a guy, but he wore it well. His shoulders were broad and sheathed in a worn, leather jacket, with only a rectangle of white T-shirt temptingly visible beneath. “Spent most of it in my room, if I’m honest.” His voice was deep and just the right side of husky. “Everything’s good, though.” “Glad to hear it.” Vanessa smiled. “What can I get you?” “I’ll have a beer. Thanks. Oh, and some dry roasted nuts, if you have any.” “Nuts?” Vanessa voice faltered. “Oh, nuts...of course. Coming right up.” Fighting the urge to laugh, Kate faced the bar again and risked another glance at him. He’d leaned his back against the bar, his eyes narrowed as he stared toward the band playing onstage. Nice, strong jaw. Wide shoulders. Dark lashes surrounding his phenomenal eyes. She lowered her study to his hand resting on the bar. Men’s hands had always been her thing. Her mouth dried. Big and strong-looking, his nails nicely trimmed and veins popping in just the right way. The man’s hand bolted him at ninety miles an hour from the starting line to the winner’s podium in her book. “One beer.” Vanessa placed the glass, none too gently, on the bar and smiled at Kate before turning to Mr. Bad Boy. “And one bag of nuts.” “Thanks.” He lifted the beer and drank. Kate stared at his throat as he swallowed, aware Vanessa was staring, too. He lowered the glass, and Kate snapped her study to the mirror. He swiped his hand over his mouth. “Do you have any other bands lined up for the week?” Vanessa exhaled. “Not this week, as we’re hosting a big fund-raiser on Saturday. It’s going to be a lot of fun. You should be there.” She glanced at Kate. “Shouldn’t he?” Kate took a deep breath and forced her gaze to his. “Sure.” She held out her hand. “Kate Harrington. I’m in charge of the fund-raiser. Nice to meet you.” Ignoring her hand, he nodded, his gaze intent on Kate’s as Vanessa moved away to serve another customer. Kate stared back. His refusal to shake her hand made her attraction wane. “I manage the Cove’s Teenage Support charity. You might have passed by the office. We’re just off the main promenade.” “Can’t say I have.” She narrowed her eyes as he turned back to the band. What was this guy’s problem? She wasn’t sure if it was her, Vanessa or the entire town that made him behave like a jerk, but she as sure as hell wasn’t going to let him ignore her. Sometimes manners had to be taught. “So, you’re visiting? Anyone I might know?” “I doubt it.” Tension radiated from him as he took another slug of beer. Not to be put off, Kate picked up her drink. “Saturday’s fund-raiser is for a new mother and baby unit that opened at the hospital a few months ago.” She waited for him to look at her. “Mothers and babies?” His bright blue eyes burned into hers. “Great cause.” Surprise mixed with pleasure and, at least momentarily, quashed her reservations about him. She smiled. “Glad you think so. So how long are you staying in Templeton?” He sipped his drink, his gaze moving back to the band. “I don’t know yet. At least a week.” He faced her and lifted an eyebrow. “Is that a problem?” Her cheeks warmed, clearly her annoyance with him showed in her voice. “No. Not at all.” He slowly ran his gaze over her face, lower to her neck, lingering on her chest for just a second longer than necessary, before he focused on the stage again. She lifted her glass to her lips. Every inch of her body was intensely aware of him, and she didn’t like it. Not one tiny bit. The guy was aloof, standoffish...maybe even downright rude. Good looks and even better bodies were not to be trusted. This guy could be just as much of a cheater as her ex. Even more so, if his terse manner was anything to go by. So why did she want to keep looking at him? He leaned his elbow on the bar and faced her. “So...” He took a sip of his drink. “Do you live around here?” Feigning nonchalance, she sat straighter on her stool and put forth as much of a welcoming attitude as she could. It wasn’t this stranger’s fault he’d briefly—very briefly—attracted and intrigued her in one very dangerous blow. “Yes.” He lifted his eyebrows. “That’s all I get?” “That’s all you get.” She held his unwavering gaze. His voice was rich and deep and had the same warming effect on her as a shot of whiskey on a cold night. “That is, until I know a little more about you. Your name would be a good start.” He drank. “Mac. Orman.” “Pleased to meet you.” He studied her for a moment before he took a drink. “So, what else do you want to know?” Her gaze dropped involuntarily to his mouth, most likely betraying her nonchalance. She shifted on her seat and lifted her eyes to his. “Why don’t we start with what brought you to the Cove?” The seconds ticked by, his blue eyes darkening. Kate’s nerves whispered with tension. “Was that not a good question to start with?” He flitted his focus to the band once more. “I’m here on business.” She frowned. “In Templeton?” “It’s as good a place as any, isn’t it?” She hazarded a guess that his cold tone was meant to make her believe it was no big deal why he was in Templeton. Little did Mr. Bad Boy know, she was blessed—or sometimes cursed—with the ability to read between the lines and notice when something wasn’t quite right with a situation. Her senses pinged to high alert with this guy, at the stiffness in his body, his clenched jaw and, quite frankly, his whole defensive demeanor. She eyed him over the rim of her glass. “You don’t strike me as the type to have work in a small town. You have city nightlife, city women and city trouble written all over you.” He faced her. “Why trouble? Because of
