5

He'd taken his time stacking the stools onto the tables. The glass top of the long bar now sparkled and shone. If he washed the bar glasses any slower, he'd collapse from the sheer boredom of the task. Mac glanced at his watch. Surely Samantha had fallen asleep by now.

The only way he could trust himself to strip down to his briefs and climb into that small double bed beside her, was to make sure she was out for the night. His patience was near to breaking, but he drew the line at taking advantage of a comatose woman.

He'd like nothing better than to rouse Samantha from sleep with erotic whisperings in her ear and sensual strokes of his hand. Unfortunately, she wasn't ready. She might be free with her touches… and her tongue, he thought wryly. His body was on fire just thinking about her dainty licks against his chest. But the hesitancy wasn't gone from her gaze, the tremors still evident in her touch.

Mac might have been selective over the past couple of years, but he knew women. An experienced female who knew what she desired didn't hesitate to take what she wanted. Samantha did. He still believed she saw sex as the answer to… whatever she'd left behind at home. Mac didn't. Hanging out in the bar was the only way he could guarantee that he kept his hands to himself.

He leaned down to put a rag beneath the bar and found an envelope with Theresa's name and the word tips scrawled beneath. Mac drew in a deep breath. Just when he thought he knew Samantha, she stunned him even more. Caring was as much a part of her as her innate sensuality.

He exhaled hard. Oh, yeah. Hanging out in the bar was definitely his safest bet.


* * *

Sam sat up in bed. For the third morning in a row, she awoke to the sun forcing its way through the blinds, the sound of the shower in her ears, and country music reverberating throughout the room. For the third morning in a row, she woke up alone.

It was ironic, really. She'd come west intent on seducing a man, and here she'd had Mac to herself for three whole days and he hadn't made one move to take her to bed.

Oh, he'd slept with her, all right. But that's all he did. He worked so hard after hours, she couldn't manage to stay awake until he walked up the stairs… and she'd tried. To add insult to injury, he beat her out of bed every morning, and it didn't matter that she'd woken up earlier each day.

She didn't doubt his interest. She couldn't. Between his sultry looks and his heated touch, she knew he wanted her. She glanced toward the closed bathroom door and bit down on her lower lip. Her body couldn't stand another second of deprivation. But that wasn't the only reason she had to approach Mac, and she had to do it now. Before she lost her nerve.

She'd come here to have a steamy sexual encounter. Instead she'd found Mac. A sensitive, caring man. One who'd made her feel special and treasured in ways she'd only dreamed of before. It was an illusion, one that would pass once they put a stop to the sexual dance and satisfied their desires. Surely things between them would fizzle fast once the afterglow faded.

She was counting on it. Because she had to go home as planned and secure her father's future. But first she had to face Mac and all he had to offer. For a woman whose primary reason for being in Arizona was to attend a series of seminars on the benefits of risk management and investment portfolios, her nervousness now was ridiculous.

She forced herself out of bed and glanced in the mirror, pausing to brush her tangled hair. Then she drew on her reserve of courage and headed for the closed bathroom door. The worst thing he could do was throw her out, and what man in his right mind would toss a willing woman out of his bed or, in this case, his shower. Turning the handle, she walked inside.

A heavy beige curtain blocked her view. She didn't appreciate the obstruction until she realized it blocked his view as well. Silently, she stripped off her clothes, all the while pushing away every ounce of doubt that tried to creep in and stop her. Samantha Reed had always been a good girl. And good girls didn't seduce complete strangers.

Steam had filled the bathroom, accompanied by the fragrant scent she'd come to associate with Mac. The scent that wrapped itself around her heart and wouldn't let go. After she'd spent the past few nights cocooned in his arms, the smell was familiar and welcoming, giving her courage. Maybe Samantha Reed wouldn't seduce a man she'd just met, but Sam would. And Mac was no stranger, he was a part of her.

She paused only to brush her teeth quickly and grab a drink to ease her dry throat. "Would you mind some company?" she asked as she pushed aside the shower curtain a fraction of an inch and stuck her head inside.

She meant to meet his gaze. Instead, she focused on other parts of his anatomy and swallowed hard. Any adjective she chose would fall short, so she settled on magnificent… and large. Fully aroused and…

The sound of him clearing his throat grounded her thoughts. "I asked if you're here to watch or to play?"

She met his gaze. Amusement glittered in his eyes, but so did desire. Naked, unabashed desire. For her. At that moment, Sam realized she might have come seeking passion, but she'd also come looking for something far more important.

For once in her life, she wanted to be desired for herself. For the unique woman she'd become, not the obedient little girl she'd always been. Not for what services she could give to her company, or for how she could salvage her father's life, or worse for how lovely she'd look on her fiancé's arm, since she knew any beautiful woman would do. She wanted a man to need her, Samantha Josephine Reed, for the woman she was.

Mac did. He offered her that and more. Sam would always be eternally grateful for the gift.

Beads of water poured over his deeply tanned skin. Just watching him caused a quickening inside her. "I most definitely want to play," she answered.

"Thank God." She grinned, and Mac's heart squeezed tight in his chest.

He wasn't anybody's white knight, least of all Samantha's. He was a man, and right now he lacked the strength to say no. They'd been building to this moment from the second they met.

After pushing the shower curtain aside, he held out his hand. She slipped her fingers around his and stepped into the tub. All white and creamy skin, untouched by the sun's rays, broken only by darkened nipples and an even darker triangle of curls, she joined him. He let out a groan, thankful for her courage. He'd had his doubts this time would ever come.

He'd been wrong. Although he couldn't miss the signs of nervousness, the inability to meet his gaze and the slight tremor in the hand she placed in his, he sensed her certainty as well. She came toward him at the same time he gripped her waist and pulled her forward so she could join him under the warm, pelting water. He fused his lips to hers, her breasts, stomach and thighs melding with perfection against his already-rock-hard body. As satiny skin rubbed against him, her soft hands gripped his back and her mouth greedily worked at his.

She purred like a lost kitten having found its way home. The sexy little sounds and moans turned him on, and his erection pulsed against her stomach. Gripping her backside, he held her firmly against him, but her body glided over his, writhing and moving, seeking deeper, more intimate relief. He knew just how she felt. All he had to do was touch her and he needed so much more.

He figured there were two ways to go about this, short and quick or slow and deep. Damned if he wanted their first time to be fast and unmemorable, but if she kept up that squirming, that's just what it would be.

He glanced around the stark tub. His friend Bear wasn't into luxuries, and the shower offered none of the amenities Mac's did at The Resort. His gaze traveled upward. Except for a shower massage. A resourceful man, he'd make do.

Placing his hands on her shoulders, he looked into her eyes. Violet eyes glazed with passion stared back. "You came to play."

"Yes." The word came out a breathless shudder.

"I'm glad."

Her answering smile was nothing short of beautiful, but it contained all the pent-up anxiety she must have been feeling. Mac cursed himself for not dealing with it sooner. The minute she'd walked into the bar, he'd sensed the contradictions warring within her. She was a lady down to her dusty toes, which made the act to come all the more exciting and made his next move that much more important.

Soap and foam covered his hands. Instead of rinsing them off, he knelt at her feet and began lathering his way up her legs, her calves and knees. When he reached her thighs, she sucked in a deep breath and nearly lost her balance. "Brace your hands on my shoulders," he told her.

"I'm not so sure…"

"I am." He tilted his head backward. "Do you trust me?" he asked.

"Yes." She answered without hesitation.

"Then do it… so we can play."

She gripped his shoulders with her hands and he bent back to his task, working his soap-slicked hands up her thighs, toward the damp curls just waiting for his touch. There wasn't a sound except for muted music and water beating against the tub floor as he moved his hand and cupped her intimately.

"Oh, Mac." Her entire body shook in reaction.

He suppressed a shudder of his own. Tamping down on his desire in favor of hers, he slipped one finger inside her wet, warm heat. She moaned and dug her fingernails into his back. She jerked against his hand. The movement fed his desire, but he had other plans for Samantha.

He withdrew his finger, ignoring her disappointed cry and continued soaping up her skin. When he reached her rounded breasts, he nearly forgot his plan and lingered there for a while, fondling, holding and arousing them both. He dipped his head and captured one nipple in his mouth, tugging and pulling until she cried out his name and reached for his straining erection with her hands.

He grasped onto her wrists, halting her movement.

"Didn't your mother ever teach you to share?" she asked.

"She tried." He lifted her hair and nuzzled the damp skin behind her neck. "I wasn't any good at it. But I never minded taking turns, and this one's mine. Yours will come later."

Reaching behind him, he pulled the shower massage off the hook on the wall. "First we have to clean off all that soap."

A smile played around her lips. "I thought we were going to play." Her light tone told him she'd relaxed, which pleased him.

"Oh, we are." He grabbed hold of her leg and lifted it onto the side of the ceramic tub, then turned the jet spray to a light pulsing rhythm.

Her eyes opened wide.

"You said you trusted me."

"I do."

"Still?"

She nodded. "Considering you've been sleeping beside me without making a move… I think you've earned it."

She had no idea how damn difficult that had been. Another thing he loved about Samantha was her innocent lack of awareness. She had no idea how much she turned him on.

He focused the spray on her legs, rinsing off the soap he'd spent so much time applying. "Back to the nice-guy thing again?" He didn't want to spook her. Keeping things light seemed the safest bet.

Angling his wrist, he directed the spray upward. Water sluiced down from the middle of her thigh, cleansing her skin. "You might want to hang on to me about now," he said.

She gripped his shoulders at the same moment he let the spray hit her intimately. Samantha whimpered, her body arching against the pulsing water jets. Her wanton response made him more determined to complete her pleasure.

He lowered them to the tub floor, settling her between the vee of his legs. Bracing her against his side, he nudged her legs apart and slipped his finger inside her, beginning a rhythmic sliding motion she picked up easily. Her body tightened and relaxed around his finger, which he eased in and out, pushing deeper with each successive thrust. Her jerking motions worked with him, while he used the other hand to let the shower massage pound against her swollen mound of flesh.

He wished he could see her face, but instead had to settle for the soft sighs and reflexive movement of her body rocking insistently against his. The constant friction of her back against his erection was almost more than he could stand. Damn, but he needed to be inside her, stretching her and filling her… Without warning, she cried out her release, and the incredible sound triggered a climax of his own, one he hadn't expected and could not have imagined, not without actually being inside her.

With another cry, she collapsed against him. Mac dropped the handle and let the shower massage fling back until it hit the corner of the tub, its spray narrowly missing them both. He lay back, leaning his head against the wall. Water pounded around them, similar to the way his body still throbbed with aftershocks.

Samantha hadn't uttered a word. She hadn't looked him in the eye, either. He didn't blame her. How the hell had he taken such advantage without thought to her feelings? Because he'd stretched his patience and need beyond reason, Mac thought. Which was no excuse. "You're too quiet."

"Am I?" she murmured. "I was just thinking about a certain cliché. It's true, you know."

He wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his face in her damp hair. Feeling her soft body against his gave him more pleasure than any man should have. "What is?" he asked.

Her giggle vibrated against his chest. "Nice guys do finish last."

He tightened his grip on her and laughed, relieved at her response. Damn but he loved her. But he knew that wasn't something she wanted to hear.


* * *

Wrapped in a thick towel, still chilled from the remnants of a shower that had turned cold, Sam joined Mac in bed.

She forced herself to look at him, at this special man she'd allowed liberties she'd never imagined existed. "I just want you to know…" Embarrassed, she stopped. She felt the heat rise in her cheeks, but she had to continue. For all the time they'd spent together, they'd never actually discussed anything intimate.

"I want you to know I don't go around sleeping with…" She stopped again. Technically they hadn't slept together… yet. "Seducing…" Had she been the seducer or had he? She shook her head. "Showering with…" That was literally true, but the things he'd done transcended the definition of a shower. "I don't sleep around."

His hand cupped her chin, his dark eyes boring into hers. "Sweetheart, I never thought you did. In fact, if I had to guess, I'd say this was your first… shower." He grinned, and she couldn't help but smile back. Mac had such a disarming manner, his very presence relaxed her.

"I enjoyed it," she admitted.

Rolling over, he pinned her body to the bed with his. "I could tell."

"There's something else."

He propped himself on his hands, taking his weight off her chest. "Why am I not surprised?"

"I'm… safe. I just thought you'd want to know."

He raised an eyebrow. "So I don't need protection?"

"Yes. No. I mean, you do… need it. I'm safe in the medical sense." Her marital blood test had proved that fact. "But not in the pregnancy sense." Stupid, she knew. Though she'd come down here planning on sleeping with a sexy, sensual man, she'd also planned on making him use protection. So she'd be sure. She'd also planned on buying some herself, after she'd made her decision.

Then she'd fallen into a routine with Mac, one that came easily and without thought. She'd forgotten to worry about protection. She'd forgotten to worry about anything at all.

He grinned, obviously not the least bit put off or insulted by the topic of conversation. "You don't have to worry about me, either, except…"

"What?"

"I don't have any here."

"That's not a problem. Well it is, but…"

"We'll have to hit town."

She'd been wrong about something else, too. Their first time together hadn't made her want him any less. She sat up in bed, making a belated and unsuccessful grab at her towel. He laughed, and she was chagrined to discover that even his laugh aroused her. He coaxed her back against the pillows and ran a hand over her bare breast. "Slow down, sweetheart. We have time."

It was Sunday afternoon. Suddenly she felt like she was counting down instead of looking ahead to the rest of their week. Stupid, Sammy Jo. His finger drew lazy circles around her nipple. Without making contact, the pull went straight into her stomach, making her nipple contract and harden, begging for his touch.

She had less than four days to get this man out of her system so she could get on with her life. Alone.


* * *

"Hey, honey, another round over here."

Sam eyed the men at the table in the corner. They'd been drinking steadily for the last couple of hours. She wondered how long they could keep it up. With each successive drink, their mouths became looser, their hands freer. As if they thought talking dirty and violating her personal space would turn her on. What it turned was her stomach. The last few nights had shown her these type of men weren't the norm around The Hungry Bear.

Forcing a smile, she glanced their way. "Coming right up." She dodged a wild hand and headed for the bar where Mac stood mixing drinks.

An emergency favor for Zee had dragged him out of bed almost immediately after the shower episode. She still blushed a deep red just thinking about it. He'd returned in time to open the bar. Sam had used the time to savor Arizona and attempt to convince herself she could walk away from Mac with her heart intact. She still didn't believe it.

She looked at him. He was wearing his standard faded jeans and a white T-shirt. An ordinary outfit, if Mac were an ordinary man. But he wasn't, as her rapidly beating heart could attest to. "Another five on tap for the corner table," she told him.

"They keep that up and I'll have to cut them off." He reached over and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. The warm, thoughtful gesture caused a lump in her throat. "How're you holding up?" he asked.

"Never better. I've really grown to like this job. You meet all kinds of interesting people. And it's good exercise."

"I don't recall you needing exercise…" He leaned over the bar. She met him halfway, and his warm breath caressed her cheek. "And don't forget I've seen pretty much everything."

Her body heated up instantly. His seductive grin told her he'd accomplished his goal. He knew just how to arouse her.

"I stopped at the drugstore while I was out this afternoon," he whispered in her ear. The simple words set her aflame.

He straightened, continuing to work as if nothing unusual had passed between them. Only the unmistakable desire in his eyes and the clench of his jaw told her otherwise. He filled five glasses and began placing them on her tray. "I guess sitting behind a desk doesn't offer much in the way of exercise?" he asked, bringing her back to where they were.

"Not much. The walk to and from the train station does that."

He pushed her full order toward her. "A long walk must feel good after sitting behind a desk all day."

"Yes."

"You mentioned something about financial work, but you never said what…"

"I'd better go, the natives are getting restless." She deliberately cut him off. He'd never asked much about her life and she didn't want him to start now. If he crossed over the line, he'd go from temporary lover to… what? Someone she shared confidences with? Cared about?

She already did, which was why she had to keep some distance between them. At least her attempt at changing the subject appeared to work. He glanced toward her waiting customers and scowled.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you. It causes wrinkles, even in men." She ran a finger over the furrows between his eyebrows, until he caught her wrist in his hand.

"And I wouldn't do that unless you were looking to take a risk."

Little did he know she'd already taken one by being with him. "Such as?"

"You're avoiding personal questions between us, Samantha."

Not only handsome, but perceptive, too. Was there no end to his virtues? "Maybe, but anything more will only complicate things between us, don't you think?"

He studied her for what felt like an endless moment before he answered. "Things are already complicated," he muttered. "But you're right… the natives are getting restless." He grabbed a rag, turned away and began wiping down the bar where the foam from the beer had overflowed.

She longed to say something, anything to end the sudden chill. But what? I'm a financial planner engaged to another man? I'm selling myself to the highest bidder? As much as I care about you, the course of my life is already set? Somehow, she didn't think he'd appreciate hearing any of those answers any more than she liked thinking them.

She lifted the tray and walked away. Mac watched her hasty retreat, admired the movement of her hips and wished like hell they hadn't been interrupted earlier.

"If you ask me, I'd say you struck out," Zee said with a chuckle.

"No, just crossed over the line." An imaginary one Samantha had drawn ever since their conversation about her father. Anytime he'd asked, she'd been unwilling to reveal any more about herself. With their week running out, perhaps she thought it best to keep her distance. Perhaps it was time to enlighten her that the end of the week didn't have to mean the end. He shook his head.

"If you want the lady to confide in you," Zee said, "seems to me you ought to do the same."

Mac agreed, but Samantha wasn't ready. What had begun as an innocent deception now loomed large between them. She was emotionally skittish, and he had no desire to give her additional reason to run. Whatever was keeping her from him, he didn't want his secret to make things worse.

His gaze fell on her as she worked. Ironically, as she dammed up emotionally, she opened up sexually. Who'd have thought she would greet him in the shower? Having sampled only a part of what he wanted from Samantha, Mac wasn't dumb enough to think he could keep his hands to himself any longer. Once he closed for the night, nothing would stop him from having Samantha in his bed. Hot and eager, warm and wet, pulsing around him…

"Easy, boy." Zee's voice shattered Mac's daydream.

The older man had followed his line of vision and caught him drooling over Samantha. He hadn't been privy to Mac's thoughts, but the way the codger's mind worked, he'd probably come too close to the erotic truth for Mac's peace of mind.

"She's pretty good at this," Zee said.

Making her way around the table of men, Samantha placed a beer in front of each customer, ducking, chiding and putting them off with a laugh or a shake of her head. Mac had to give her credit. She'd learned quickly how to handle a table of eager men… Except for the guy she served last His hand lingered on her waist despite her vehement disapproval, and when she tried to take a step backward, she was stopped by a firm palm on her behind and a whisper in her ear. On the rare occasion when Mac had seen it happen to Theresa, he'd always handled the situation with a detached calm that resulted in a quick resolution. No one got their feelings hurt or their bones broken. Something changed inside him when the woman being pawed was Samantha.

A raw possessiveness flooded his veins, but he forced himself to give her a second to handle things before he went charging in. He gave her a second too long, he realized as the guy rose to face her and placed a hand on her breast. Mac rounded the bar and headed for Samantha quicker than Zee could spit.

Apparently she'd learned more than Mac thought. She was also faster, because by the time he reached the table, the guy was wearing his beer on his jeans.

"Put a leash and a muzzle on your customers, Mac." She glared at the offender who was busy wiping down his wet jeans.

"Zee…" Mac nodded in the drunken guy's direction.

The older man understood. He grabbed the patron, who began ranting about harassment, and led him and his friends to the door. He'd make sure they knew they'd worn out their welcome and check that someone sober drove home. Bear's father might act outrageously at times, but when called for, he could be a formidable opponent and a good friend.

Once Mac was sure they had gone, he turned his attention to what was important. He reached for her hand and wasn't comforted to find her fingers trembling inside his. "Samantha…"

She shook her head, cutting off anything he might have said. "I'm fine." But her pallor told him otherwise. "You should have heard the things he said. He was crude and acting… I don't know, entitled. Like because I'd served him drinks, I'd like to cater to him in other ways, too." She kept wiping her hands on her clothes, as if she could wipe away the memories as easily. "Just because I serve drinks for a living doesn't mean I'll… service any slimeball that walks in here."

She spat the last few words with such anger, Mac didn't think now was the time to remind her she… Hell, he didn't exactly know what she did for a living, but he knew it involved high finance and not serving drinks in a backwater bar. But she respected those who did, which made his respect for her inch up another notch.

He glanced at his watch. Closing time was still forty-five minutes away. "Okay, folks. Whatever you drank last, consider it last call." Because the incident had been loud and public, the grumbling remained at a minimum.

Clouded eyes met his. "You don't have to close early for me. I told you I'm fine."

He wasn't. He reached for her, his hand grazing her cheek before he pushed a strand of hair off her too-pale face. "I'm closing," he said with finality. "If not for you, then for me."

"But Bear…"

"Left me in charge. I figure that gives me some rights around here."

"Who am I to argue with the boss?" she asked, some color coming back to her cheeks.

He braced his hands on either side of her face. "You did a great job taking care of yourself tonight. But I want you to know I wouldn't have let him hurt you."

"I know. Like I said, he didn't. He just… violated me somehow."

A lady like Samantha, from the world Mac thought she came from, wouldn't be used to harsh words from a drunken idiot. "Give me a few minutes to close up and this will all be a distant memory." He'd make sure of it.

Zee returned. "You okay, honey?"

She turned her sunny smile on the older man. "Fine. And thanks for everything."

"My boy doesn't run a trashy joint. I'm sorry…"

Waving away his apology, she grasped his gnarled hand. "I know what kind of place this is, Zee. And you don't have to apologize for it. Either of you." Her gaze took in Mac, as well.

Mac the bartender. Suddenly his deception didn't sit well with him. In fact, it turned his stomach.

Zee turned to Mac. "I'll get going and let you take care of things here." The old man shot Mac a pointed look before heading for the door. "Oh…" He turned back. "You still planning on taking that drive to Sedona to see your mama tomorrow?" he asked Mac.

"No. I'll put it off a few days." No sense visiting his sister and mother with a woman in tow. Mac didn't have the answers to the questions his family would surely ask.

"Okay, let me know. Maybe I'll tag along with you when you go," Zee said.

Mac smiled. "They'd like that."

"Maybe Sammy Jo would like to join us," Zee whispered as he took his leave.

Mac rolled his eyes, then wrapped his arm around Samantha's shoulders. She curled her body against his, and he took comfort in her being near.

He swallowed a raw curse. Because when sexual desire took a back seat to concern and other emotions he'd never felt before, Mac knew he was in trouble.

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