by Karen Booth
When Farrell took her hand in his much larger one, she sucked in a tiny breath, hoping he hadn’t noticed. His grip was firm and warm, telegraphing their mutual accord, but other things, as well.
Ivy was assailed with a dozen feelings she couldn’t separate. Relief that he hadn’t been irreparably offended by her snit earlier. Amazement that something as simple as a handshake could turn her knees wobbly.
Was Farrell Stone affecting her so deeply because he had been kind to her daughter? Or was Ivy, herself, desperate to believe that good men still existed? Surely she wasn’t so pathetically needy.
The handshake was over far too soon. Farrell let go first. His gaze was inscrutable now, his jaw tight. He handed her the baby. “I need to get back to work,” he said gruffly.
“Of course.” She swallowed her hurt that he was so eager to rush away. He had come here to make progress on his designs for new Stone River products. Naturally he wanted to focus in his lab.
Ivy was still dealing with the touch of his hand against hers. A touch that felt incredibly good. But she didn’t trust her own judgment.
She couldn’t. She shouldn’t.
More amazing was the fact that she hadn’t flinched when their hands came together. His tangible strength hadn’t frightened her. Maybe she was making progress.
CHAPTER FIVE
Farrell was accustomed—when necessary—to concentrating in the midst of distractions. In fact, his ability to shut out peripheral commotion and disturbances was part of what made him good at his job. Creating—inventing—required quiet time and open space.
He had plenty of both here in northern Maine. The silence helped him think. The natural beauty of the landscape refreshed his soul.
By all accounts, he should be able to zero in on his goals better than he ever had before. His new digs were an innovator’s dream. Now that he was away from the Portland office, he no longer had to worry about some mysterious person stealing his ideas. He was far off the beaten path, and the locals could spot an intruder a mile away.
Yet he found himself far too often staring out the window into the woods, his thoughts scattering in all directions. One of those compass points always landed on Ivy.
She’d been here almost three weeks now. They had fallen into a routine of sorts. As he promised her that very first morning, he had made a point of being on time for breakfast. His meal was always waiting on him when he loped from the lab to the house at eight sharp.
Ivy was a good cook. Excellent, in fact. In his kitchen, with the sun streaming through the windows and the scent of bacon in the air, she always claimed to have eaten earlier when the baby woke up. So Farrell consumed his eggs or his pancakes alone. He checked email on his phone, scrolled through a few New York Times articles. Wondered about Ivy.
Dinner took an opposite tack. He had insisted, somewhat doggedly, that Ivy eat her evening meal with him. The high chair he ordered had arrived. The three of them—man, woman and baby—were cozy in the breakfast nook.
Once, when Ivy tried to serve him dinner in the formal dining room with a single place setting of china and silver, he rolled his eyes and carried everything back to the kitchen. After the second night, she gave up.
Never again had he asked about her late husband. He and Ivy had brokered an unspoken accord. He avoided personal questions, and she kept him fed. It was working for now.
What really disturbed him most was the conviction that he was obligated to dig out the truth about her past and help her.
He didn’t want to. That reluctance, by all accounts, made him a selfish son of a bitch. When Sasha died, he promised himself never again to get so wrapped up in another woman. The pain of losing his high school sweetheart had turned him into a shell of a man.
Eventually, his world had started spinning again. Sasha’s ordeal faded into memory. Time healed all wounds, or so he had been told. Almost imperceptibly, he began to live again. And his life had turned out to be pretty good in many ways.
But intimacy? No, thanks. When sexual hunger drove him beyond what he could handle, he occasionally traveled. Found a woman who was as much of a loner as he was. The two of them enjoyed something strictly physical. It wasn’t ideal, but it was all he wanted.
Ivy scared him, because he was attracted to her. She was so very real. He wanted to take care of her, and he wanted to have her. In his bed.
If he delved into her life, her past, he would get too involved. He might step over the line. Not only for boss/employee, but for his own personal boundaries.
He didn’t have the emotional bandwidth to give a woman what she needed.
Or maybe that wasn’t true. Maybe he simply didn’t ever want to be so vulnerable. He knew what it felt like to lose someone important. He couldn’t go through that pain again.
* * *
Ivy liked her job. She and Dolly were adjusting well to the new environment. It had taken a couple of days to feel comfortable in Farrell’s fabulous kitchen, but even that was easier by the end of the first week.
One Friday morning, she was surprised when Katie showed up out of the blue right after breakfast. She and Farrell put their heads together for an hour about R & D department issues. Then Katie sought out Ivy at the cabin.
The attractive, sexy blonde made Ivy feel inadequate in all sorts of ways. Not on purpose, of course. But Katie was gorgeous. And confident. And blissfully happy as a newlywed. She was also running things back in Portland while Farrell worked here in the middle of nowhere.
When Katie begged to play with the baby, Ivy got Dolly up from her nap and changed her. As Ivy returned to the living room, Katie grinned. “Is it possible she’s grown since the last time I saw her?”
“Maybe,” Ivy said. “She’s healthy and happy here.”
Katie cocked her head. “And you?”
Ivy flushed. “Yes. Things are going well.”
“Farrell says you cook like a dream.”
“I’m glad he thinks so.”
“Do the two of you get along?”
“We had a few spats the first couple of days. But we understand each other now.”
“Good.” Katie gave her a pointed stare. “I need to talk to you about something. But you have to promise not to freak out.”
“That’s not a reassuring way to start a conversation.” Ivy’s stomach flipped and flopped. “Is it Farrell? Has he changed his mind? And he’s too chicken to tell me himself?”
The last eight words came tumbling out indignantly.
Katie gaped, then laughed. “Farrell Stone is the bravest man I know…after my husband. And no. He hasn’t changed his mind. But you know how I mentioned that Farrell entertains often?”
“Yes.”
“Well, next weekend is a big event. Farrell and I have been trying to pull it together. But we didn’t know until yesterday that it was going to work out. Stone River Outdoors is hoping to partner with a few overseas entities to extend our global reach.”
“I see.” Ivy told herself not to overreact.
Katie continued. “We have some heavy hitters flying in for a ‘summit’ here at Farrell’s house. A watchmaker from Switzerland. A well-known safari company from Namibia. A couple of ecotour operators from the British Virgin Islands. Plus, a husband and wife who organize walking tours in Tuscany. Farrell, Zachary and Quin are hoping to convince them all to use Stone River products, and in turn, we’ll advertise for each of our partners.”
“So lots of cooking.”
Katie looked guilty. “Not exactly. We’re bringing in a professional chef for the weekend. Farrell wants you to act as his hostess. My sister has agreed to come with me and babysit Dolly. Here at the cabin, of course. So you won’t have to worry about her.”
Ivy shook her head, her fists clenching. “Delanna? Oh, no,” she said. “That won’t work.”
“I’ll be here the whole
time,” Katie said. “Except at night. Quin and I will sleep at our place.”
“And Zachary? Does he have a significant other? Somebody better suited than me to take over here?”
“Zachary is the quintessential bachelor. He goes where the wind blows him. Although to be fair,” she said quickly, “he really has curtailed his traveling since Mr. Stone died. Zachary is the financial genius at headquarters. He keeps us in the black. He’ll be staying up here, too, but in his own house.”
“When you talked to me about this job back in Portland, I thought you meant the occasional dinner party,” Ivy muttered. “I’m not who you need. Besides, I don’t have the right clothes.”
Katie juggled Dolly in one arm and reached into an expensive leather tote. “We’re going to take care of that right now.” She pulled out a sheaf of catalogs. “I’ve made a list of everything you’ll want. Farrell is paying, of course. If you don’t like the colors and styles I’ve picked, feel free to say so. I’ve folded down the appropriate pages. We’ll do overnight shipping. If there are things that don’t fit, that will give us time to do exchanges.”
When Katie handed over the catalogs, Ivy looked at them in a daze. Farrell hadn’t been kidding about his efficient admin. Katie was a military general, planning…executing. There were dressy pants and tops. Couture negligees. A trio of cocktail dresses. Casual hiking clothes.
Ivy shook her head. “I can’t,” she said. Her nose burned and her eyes stung. This was a world she knew nothing about.
Katie read her distress. Her smile was kind. “You can do this, Ivy.”
“But I’m not like you.” Ivy indicated the glossy catalogs. “I’ve never worn anything so nice.”
The other woman smiled wryly. “You may not know this, but my life before I married Quin was far more blue-collar than black-tie. I worked with the Farrell men, but that was as far as it went. Now I’m one of the family. It’s been sink or swim. I’ve had to keep up with their lifestyle, but it’s really not as bad as it sounds, Ivy. It’s kind of nice being pampered.”
Ivy changed course. “I don’t even really know your sister.”
“You moved in with her.”
“For three nights. That’s all. She advertised for a roommate.”
“She already loves Dolly. And though my sister can be flaky at times, she’s great with kids. Plus, as I mentioned, you’ll be close by the entire time. Nothing to worry about.”
“Why can’t you be the hostess?”
Katie’s smile was smug. “Because Farrell wants you. I’m a newlywed. My husband and I will go home every evening. You’ll be on hand to juggle any overnight emergencies.”
“Overnight?” Ivy’s eyes widened.
For the first time, Katie looked guilty. “Did I forget to mention that? Farrell wants you to stay in one of the guest rooms.”
“Why didn’t he ask me himself?” Ivy demanded. “This doesn’t sound like him at all.”
“Well, you’d be wrong, then. He says you’re smart and capable, and he thinks you’ll be the perfect person to make his guests comfortable.”
After that, things snowballed out of Ivy’s control. It made sense that Katie was organizing the entire weekend. After all, she had been Farrell’s administrative assistant for a long time. What didn’t make sense was expecting Ivy to jump into a high-octane situation and pretend she moved in these circles.
Over lunch, Farrell added his two cents’ worth. “Thank you, Ivy,” he said. “Katie tells me she went over all the particulars with you. We’ll have barely a week to get ready, but Katie and Quin will fly up Thursday morning to help with final details. Zachary will be in charge of hiring limos to collect our guests at the Portland airport on Friday and shepherd them up here.”
Ivy looked from her boss to the woman who had been instrumental in getting Ivy this well-paid job. Both of them appeared oddly certain that Ivy could handle this extraordinary upcoming event. Both of them had believed in her when she was desperate and had no clue how she was going to support herself and her child.
Already, she was in their debt. What could she say other than yes?
“I’ll help however I can,” she said. “With one caveat.”
Farrell raised an eyebrow. “And that would be?”
“I’ll be the one to put Dolly to bed at night. It doesn’t take long. I don’t want her thinking I’ve abandoned her.”
Katie nodded. “Of course. Besides, Quin and I will still be here that early in the evening. So no worries.”
* * *
Farrell was already second-guessing himself. It was true that he needed a hostess for the weekend. But Katie had served that role in the past and would have done so again if he’d asked. Somehow, though, he believed Ivy would add an important element to the upcoming event. She was practical and adaptable. And she would tell him honestly if aspects of the summit weren’t working.
Right now, she looked uneasy. Katie had thrown a lot of stuff at her, and there would be more to come. Was Farrell pushing her too far?
Before he could answer that question, Ivy stood and began clearing the table. Katie stood, as well. “I can handle cleanup,” Katie said. “Ivy, the chicken salad was amazing. Farrell, you go back to work. Ivy, you put Dolly down for her nap. I’ve got this.”
When Ivy disappeared with Dolly in her arms, Farrell shook his head slowly. “Was she open to the hostess idea?”
Katie grimaced. “Not really. I had to sell it hard. But I think you’re right. She’ll be an asset this weekend. And even though she had reservations about being so visible, she’ll enjoy it. I hope.”
After lunch, when Katie had gone down the road to her and Quin’s house, Farrell went back to the lab and tried to work with little success. He wasn’t worried about the summit weekend. The prospect of a new venture was exciting. But Ivy was a conundrum that stuck with him.
This past week, he’d found himself watching her when he thought she wouldn’t notice. The gentle swell of her breasts. The way her hips filled out a pair of jeans. The glimmer of mischief in her eyes when she laughed.
With a mutter of disgust, he dropped his pencil and stood. All he’d managed to accomplish in the last half hour was a series of amateur doodles. He might as well take a break and satisfy his curiosity at the same time.
When he knocked on the front door of the cabin, he took a moment to appreciate how it had turned out. He had envisioned it as an addition to the three large houses he and his brothers had built here in northern Maine.
The cabin was smaller. And cozy. Maybe one day, Quin and Katie’s kids would come stay in the cabin between semesters in college. Or even honeymoon here. It was a great hideaway.
He knocked a second time, and the door abruptly opened. Ivy was visibly shocked. “Farrell. Did you need me?”
Suddenly, he questioned his judgment. Ivy’s face was flushed. One cheek sported a visible blanket crease. “Ah, hell,” he said. “You were napping. I’m sorry. Never mind.”
He turned on his heel, but Ivy’s soft, unintentionally sexy voice stopped him. “You can come in, Farrell. I needed to get up anyway.”
“Is the baby awake?”
“No. She’ll sleep for another forty-five minutes at least.”
He should have walked away. But he didn’t. “I don’t want to interrupt,” he said gruffly, feeling the tops of his ears get hot. There was no reason in the world for him to be here. But still, he stayed.
Ivy opened the door wider and stepped back. “You’re fine. Come on in.”
Together, they took the few steps to the living room. Ivy curled up in an armchair upholstered in moss green velvet. Farrell sat on the green-and-gold-plaid sofa. “Shall I start a fire?” he asked. The day was cold and dreary.
“That would be nice.”
She was eyeing him with suspicion, and no wonder. He was acting weird. Even he could se
e that.
Conscious of her gaze on his back, he squatted beside the fireplace and put together the kindling and larger logs. With some kerosene-soaked pine cones and newspaper and a couple of matches, he soon had a creditable blaze going.
“There you go,” he said, standing and brushing a bit of soot off his pants. “Is this the first one you’ve had?”
Ivy nodded, wrinkling her nose. “I tried twice, but apparently, pyromania is not one of my gifts.”
“It takes practice,” he said, sitting back down with a sigh. There were worse ways to spend a fall afternoon.
“Shouldn’t you be inventing stuff?”
He chuckled. “Yes. I’m blocked at the moment. It happens.”
“Am I allowed to ask what you’re working on?”
“Of course. It’s a motion-activated emergency signal. Sometimes in an avalanche or a climbing accident, the person involved can’t use their cell phone. Maybe it’s lost. Maybe the signal is poor.”
“Maybe they can’t reach it, or they’re too badly injured to call for help?”
“Exactly. The device I’m trying to create would be triggered when there is an abrupt change in altitude. That signal could be picked up by any number of rescue frequencies.”
“Impressive.”
He shrugged. “It might be, if I ever get it done.”
Ivy picked at a loose thread on the sofa arm. “Why did you ask me to be your hostess this weekend?”
He hadn’t seen that one coming. “Well, uh…”
She pinned him with a sharp gaze. “The truth, please.”
CHAPTER SIX
Ivy couldn’t believe she’d had the courage to ask the question, but she badly wanted to know.
Farrell’s expression was hard to read. He shot her a glance and then stood to poke the fire. When it blazed up to his satisfaction, he leaned an arm on the mantel and faced her. “You could say my motives were multilayered.”
It was difficult to stay focused when he was such a beautiful man to look at. Despite the cerebral nature of his work, it was clear he spent a great deal of time outdoors. The honey streaks in his brown hair were natural. His skin was tanned to a golden color, and his sinewy muscles were that of an experienced athlete.
