Very carefully, Mac shifted her gaze in the direction of the tennis courts. This time there was no onslaught of panic. Though her view was partially blocked by trees, she recognized Sophie’s two stepbrothers, the “step-twins” as she called them. Nicholas and Nathaniel were both in college now. They lived with their Aunt Jan. The estate was their home, but it was owned by Sophie’s older brother Lucas Wainright, the final member of the foursome.
Tall and lean, with a swimmer’s athletic build, Lucas looked very much at ease as he rushed forward to the net and killed his stepbrother’s serve. According to Sophie, Lucas was good at everything he put his hand to—sports, as well as the family business. Four years ago when his father had died, he’d taken over and ruthlessly dragged Wainright Enterprises back from the edge of bankruptcy.
The first and only time Mac had met him, he’d reminded her of a fallen angel, incredibly good-looking on the surface with danger lurking just beneath. But that first impression of danger had been softened somewhat by the fact that he’d spent most of the day hidden behind a camera snapping pictures of the grand opening of Sophie’s antique shop.
According to Sophie, Lucas regarded his duties as the head of the Wainright family every bit as seriously as he took his financial obligations. As a result, he’d turned into a total dictator and an interfering ogre.
The man on the tennis court did not resemble an ogre. She let her gaze linger on the dark hair and the tanned skin stretched taut over what she was sure were hard muscles. His hand had certainly been hard when he’d shaken hers that day. She’d felt something too—a little jolt. Whatever it was, it had made her very aware of him for the rest of the party.
“Who’s winning?” Sophie asked as she joined her on the edge of the platform.
“Looks like Lucas and your aunt.”
“Who would have thought?” she muttered. “Not that I begrudge Aunt Jan the victory, but I would give a lot to see Lucas taken down a peg or two.”
Mac turned to study Sophie. “You never told me what he did to make you break things off with Bradley.”
“He had him followed. Turns out the man I thought was the love of my life was cheating on me. There were some very compromising photos, thanks to the Shadow.”
“Shadow?”
“That’s what I call the super spy who heads up Wainright Enterprises’ security. I managed to get a pretty good look at him once. But he doesn’t like to be seen. He’s there, and then he’s not. Anyway, he checked into Bradley’s finances. Lucas made me read the report so that I would have no doubt that old Brad was obviously only interested in me for my money.”
Mac covered Sophie’s hand with hers. “Lucas loves you, Soph.”
“I love him, too, but he sees everyone I date, especially anyone I get serious about, as a threat to the company. The worst of it is he’s probably right. I’ve decided that the next man I decide to go out with is not going to know that I’m a Wainright. And I’m going to make very sure that no one—not even the Shadow—knows who I’m seeing.”
Mac put her arms around her friend and just held her. For a moment, neither of them said a word.
“Okay,” Sophie said as she drew back. “Enough of my problems. I think we ought to come up with a solution for yours.”
“You’re not going to talk me out of it.”
“I know better than to waste my breath. Besides, the more I think about it, the more I can see that this field-testing plan of yours might have some merit. In fact, it could even be fun if you did it with someone you could trust. There’s got to be someone I know—”
“Hey, you two!”
The sudden shout had Mac glancing down through the branches before she could stop to think. Lucas was striding toward them across the lawn. “C’mon down out of that tree. Aunt Jan and I have defeated the step-twins and we’re ready for our next challengers.”
For just a moment, Mac’s gaze locked with Lucas’s, and she experienced that same instant jolt of awareness she’d felt before. Then a wave of dizziness slammed into her and she squeezed her eyes shut.
“That’s it!” Sophie whispered in Mac’s ear. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of it sooner. Lucas is the answer! You can practice your research on him!”
Lucas? No. Mac shook her head, and a second, more potent, wave of dizziness hit her. Her hand shot out to the railing. It gripped nothing but air.
As she pitched forward, fear fisted in her throat, leaves scraped her face, and one image formed in her mind—the earth below racing toward her. Then arms clamped around her like a steel vise, pressing her against something hard and solid and warm before she hit the ground and lost her breath in a whoosh.
“Mac!”
Sophie’s voice was almost drowned out by the beating of her heart. As she struggled for breath, Mac became aware of the very male body beneath her.
“You can open your eyes now. You’re safe.”
The moment she did, she saw that Lucas’s eyes were just as dark as she remembered—the deep blue of the sea.
“Are you all right?”
Mac said nothing. She couldn’t. He was holding her so tightly, molding her body to his from breast to thigh. An icy flame was searing her nerve endings and sensitizing her body to every plane and angle of his. For the first time in her life, words, thoughts, logic, deserted her, washed away by a flood of sensations. The warmth of his breath on her lips. The pressure of each one of his fingers on her back. The swell of her hips. His body growing rock hard beneath her. She watched awareness fill his eyes as her body melted in reaction.
“Just what I’ve been waiting to see all my life—my brother knocked off his feet by a woman! I think it’s an omen of things to come.”
Omen of things to come. Sophie’s words and the memory of what she’d suggested—practicing her research on Lucas—penetrated the haze filling Mac’s mind. She broke free of the paralysis that had gripped her, and shifting off Lucas, she scrambled to her feet.
Sophie grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the tennis courts as she tossed over her shoulder, “C’mon, bro. Prepare to meet your match…”
2
LUCAS LEANED BACK in his chair and listened to the steady ticking of his grandfather’s clock. It was the only sound that marred the tense silence in the room as he studied the two men seated on the other side of his desk.
Both of them were self-contained. Both were very intelligent. And he wouldn’t relish going up against either one of them in a dark alley.
It was ironic that in spite of their many similarities, the two men were the complete antithesis of each other.
The younger was his best friend, the man he’d recently hired to head up security at Wainright Enterprises. He’d known T. J. McGuire since they’d served together in the Gulf War. Tracker was the name the flight crew had given T.J. because he’d been a hell of a lot better at finding their targets than both the high-tech radar systems and so-called “smart” missiles.
It had taken Lucas four years to convince his friend to come and work for Wainright Enterprises. He’d needed someone he could trust, and Tracker was that kind of man. Beneath the black-Irish good looks and the accompanying charm lay the strength and the loyalty of a Celtic warrior. Lucas ranked loyalty right up there next to competence when it came to his employees—and his friends.
The older man with the mane of white wavy hair and the impeccably tailored suit was not a friend. Nor could he be trusted. Doing business