by Lisa Jackson
The observation was disturbing. Chester was and always had been a loyal employee.
“Yep, they always do.” Chester turned and headed back to the barn with his slow, purposeful gait. Max decided he wasn’t going to let the fight with his father ruin his night. After all, wasn’t that what the old man wanted? Brushing the dust from his shirt, he jogged back to the garage.
It was true that everything he’d earned had been paid for with McKee money, but he wasn’t owned, nor could he be manipulated or bought. Max’s life was his own—to do with as he pleased—whether Jonah knew it or not. He’d see whomever he wanted. And right now all he could think about was Skye. During the day, with her in the office, he found it difficult to concentrate. Her perfume lingered in the air, her musical voice swept over the hum of computers and ringing of phones, and her eyes sparkled with a special light, which made him want her all the more. He couldn’t seem to get away from her. Even at night, visions of her crept after him and stole into bed with him, making sleep impossible. He was hot and hard and knew he wouldn’t be satisfied until he’d made love to her. Even then, he doubted he’d be sated. No, Skye Donahue was the kind of woman that you just kept lusting after. The more you had of her, the more you wanted.
Max wasn’t inexperienced as far as women were concerned. For as long as he could remember, they’d been chasing him. He wasn’t stupid enough to kid himself and knew the reasons that most of the girls found him irresistible. Coupled with his rugged, ranch-tough looks was the general knowledge that he had money. Lots of it. That he stood to inherit a fortune. And that alone made girls and women alike seek out his company.
As he slid into the soft leather seats of his BMW convertible, he frowned. The car had been a graduation gift from his father, and though Max loved the sporty silver machine that hugged the mountain roads as he drove hell-bent for leather, then roared down the straightaways while the speedometer hovered around a hundred miles an hour, he suddenly felt as if the sleek car was a rich boy’s toy, that it had been offered as a gift but had come with a subtle price tag.
He eyed the expensive dash and grimaced. No wonder his father thought he could be bought. If not money, then a fast car, or a powerboat, or some other high-priced toy. He squeezed his eyes shut and knew that above all else he had to be independent and respected within the company before he could ever hope to run the family business.
And it started with this car.
Glancing at his watch, he felt a sudden surge of power. There was still time, but not much. He fired up the powerful engine, let out the clutch and took off. Gravel spun beneath the tires and he left a plume of dust in his wake.
Jonah McKee was in for a big surprise. A surprise that would knock that smug, knowing grin clean from his face. Max felt a glow of satisfaction at shaking off some of the shackles of his father’s wealth. It was high time he proved himself to be his own man, and he’d start tonight, first with the car and then with Skye.
Skye. His blood pounded though his veins a little faster as he thought of her. His fingers tightened over the steering wheel. As he drove through the heat of late afternoon, his thoughts spun ahead to the night stretching out before him. A night with Skye. He slipped a pair of aviator sunglasses over the bridge of his nose and smiled to himself.
Tonight he was going to take Skye to the most expensive restaurant in Dawson City and after that... His blood heated at the prospect because, though he’d tried for the better part of two weeks, he couldn’t wipe the image of making love to her from his mind.
Skye was a nervous wreck. She tried on three outfits before settling on a denim skirt, white blouse and a wide black belt.
“This is crazy, you know,” Dani said as she leaned against the doorway of their cramped bedroom, the same one they’d shared before Skye had gone away to school. “Going out with a McKee is about as sensible as drinking strychnine.”
“Very funny.”
“I’m not trying to be.”
“Don’t worry about me,” Skye said, brushing her hair. “I can take care of myself.”
“I always thought so. Until now.” Dani shoved herself away from the doorframe and Skye let out her breath. She didn’t need her sister giving her any advice. She’d opened her ears to the gossip surrounding Rimrock’s most eligible bachelor. Most of the single women in town would gladly give their eyeteeth for a date with handsome, successful and incredibly wealthy Max McKee, but beneath the speculation about his money and sexual prowess, there had been an undercurrent of something darker, something dangerous. There were stories of women, none substantiated as far as Skye could tell, and hearts broken. She’d heard whispers about illegitimate children and Max’s callous disregard for anything but his own pleasure.
The stories sounded more like rumor than fact, but her mother had always warned her that where there was smoke, there was surely going to be fire.
“Skye?” her mother called from the living-room couch. “You about ready?”
“Almost.” She frowned at her reflection in the oval mirror over a long bureau, then took a few last strokes through her hair.
“Good. ’Cause you don’t want to keep Max waiting.” Irene Donahue was the only person in Rimrock who seemed pleased she was dating Max. “Come on out and let me see how you look!”
Feeling like a fourteen-year-old primping to get ready to go to her first dance instead of a twenty-three-year-old woman who had been accepted into medical school, she walked into the living room for inspection.
Her mother, propped by pillows and sucking juice through a straw, grinned at the sight of her. “Well, well, don’t you look pretty?”
Dani snorted. Dressed in tight jeans, a tank top, her bare feet curled beneath her as she sat in their mother’s favorite dilapidated rocker, Dani scowled darkly. “Like a lamb to the slaughter.”
“Don’t you go ruinin’ Skye’s good time.”
“She won’t,” Skye said, shooting her sister a glance.
Dani shoved herself upright and stalked through the house to the back porch. Skye heard the hiss of a match being struck and knew that Dani was lighting up away from their mother’s watchful eyes. Irene Donahue knew that Dani smoked, gave weekly sermons on lung cancer and heart disease, but in the end gave up and only insisted that Dani enjoy her cigarettes outside the house.
“She’s always been a handful,” Irene said. Just then the sound of an engine came in through the open window and the glow of headlights splashed against the wall. The older woman visibly brightened. “Looks like he’s here,” she said eagerly, as if it were she, not her daughter, who was going out. “You two have a good time, won’t you?”
“The best.”
“And never mind Dani.”
“Believe me, I won’t,” Skye said and hurried to the little entry hall just as the doorbell chimed. She pressed her palms on her skirt, then threw open the door. At the sight of him, her throat tightened and her already-hammering heart clicked into double time. His gold-streaked hair had been combed, but was beginning to fall forward over his eyes, and his features, still all angles and planes, were more relaxed than they were in the office.
“Would you like to come in?”
He shrugged. “For a second, I guess.”
She stepped out of the doorway and he passed by, only to be confronted by Skye’s sister. Dani’s eyes were at half-mast and her lips were twisted into a funny little pout. “Well, if it isn’t his highness, Prince Maximilian.”
He snorted a laugh. “It’s Maxwell, but don’t tell anyone. You can just call me Master.”
Dani lifted an eyebrow. “I didn’t know anyone named McKee had a sense of humor.”
“It’s a family trait we try to keep hidden.”
“You don’t have to try to be so rude just to impress him,” Skye said, tired of her sister’s antics.
Irene was waving from the couch. “Max, come on in. Ignore the girls. They’re always bickering. Would you like some juice, or maybe some tea?”
Max
shook his head. “Another time. We’ve got reservations.”
“Well, go on then,” Irene said with an easy smile she reserved for anyone with the McKee name. “Have a good time.”
As they left, Max wrapped his fingers possessively around the crook of Skye’s arm and held the door for her. Dani was still lurking in the hall, taking in the scene with angry eyes.
“What was that all about?” Max asked before opening the door of an old pickup painted with a flat gray primer.
“Dani works hard at being a rebel.”
“Don’t we all?” He slammed the door shut and jogged around to the driver’s side of the truck.
The night was perfect. Shooting stars blazed across the sky and a quarter moon hung low over the hills.
Skye rolled down her window and felt the summer wind tug at her hair. Dust and the scent of freshly cut hay wafted into the cab of the truck and the soft notes of a country and western love song swelled from the single speaker in the dash.
“Is your car in the shop?” she asked as they rounded a curve and the lights of Dawson City glowed in the dark valley.
“Nope.” He smiled, looking satisfied with himself. Patting the steering wheel, his lips twisting into a hard grin, he said, “This is my new set of wheels. What do you think?”
“Sporty,” she said dryly.
“Zero to sixty in seventeen point six minutes.” His smile disappeared. “Actually, I sold the BMW and bought this to make a point.”
“With whom?”
“Jonah.”
“Oh.” Though she’d grown up hearing that Jonah McKee was the finest man to ever walk the face of the earth, she was beginning to think her mother’s viewpoint of the man was skewed. Jonah was secretive and brash and there was a presence about him that made her uneasy. She’d told herself over and over again that she was being foolish, but she’d noticed the way his eyes could shift quickly, scanning a room without moving too much. He saw everything, it seemed, and he made it his business to know everything there was to know about Rimrock and its citizens. The men striding through the doors to his office were prominent citizens—Judge Rayburn, Dr. Fletcher, the mayor and several men on the city council—who came and went as if they were part of an exclusive men’s club, a club that Skye guessed shaped the future of the little town of Rimrock.
“You don’t like him, do you?”
Skye gave a little shrug. She didn’t want to talk about Jonah. “I don’t really know him.”
“You work for him.”
Smiling, she said, “It’s only temporary, and if you want to know the truth, I’m not very good at taking orders. My mother thinks I have a problem with authority. My guess is she’s right.”
“Medical school might be rough.”
“I’ll manage,” she said, her fingers curling into fists in her lap. No matter what it took, she’d get through the necessary training and the inevitable razzing from some of the guys and professors who didn’t want a woman invading their turf. Most of the old prejudices had melted away over the years, but some remained, and there were always those who liked to see a woman fail. Well, this was one woman who wouldn’t. “What was the point you were trying to make?” she asked when the silence had stretched too long.
He snorted. “Sounds silly.”
“Come on.”
“Okay. I think it’s time my father knew that I’m my own man.”
“He doubts that?”
“No. He fights it,” Max said, the lines around the corners of his mouth becoming more visible. “But what else is new? Jonah P. McKee sees things only one way.”
“So why didn’t you stay in one of those big law firms in the city? Why’d you come back?”
Max’s jaw grew hard and his eyes glittered with an intense fire. “Something I had to do.” As if the conversation had suddenly become too personal, he changed the station on the radio and Rod Stewart’s voice crackled from the speaker. Skye tried to recapture the carefree mood she’d felt only moments before but just the mention of Jonah McKee’s name had changed the atmosphere in the truck, creating an invisible current of strain that weighed heavy in the darkness. She’d always assumed that Max and his father were similar; maybe she’d been wrong. She hoped so, because the more she knew of Jonah McKee, the less she liked the man.
Just the opposite was true with Max. The more she saw of him, the more she wanted to see. She had to keep telling herself that she might end up disappointed. He was, after all, a McKee, and as her sister Dani had been so quick to point out, McKees took what they wanted without regard for anyone else.
They drove into town, through the aging business section and toward the river. A cabin converted to a family-owned restaurant huddled on the banks of the John Day. Strings of light bulbs suspended from the roof to poles lining the walk swung in the breeze.
Inside, the restaurant was cut into small rooms angling from a small foyer. A smiling waitress guided them to a table with a view of the dark water. After they sat, she rattled off the specials of the day, then scribbled down their drink orders and promised to return soon.
The quivering flame from a fat white candle encased in glass was reflected on the glossy surface of the table, and soft music—an instrumental of an old Olivia Newton-John recording—was being piped to the rooms.
Max looked thoughtful and suddenly there was an uncomfortable silence between them.
“Why’d you ask me out?” Skye asked. The question had been hovering in the back of her mind.
“You were surprised?”
“A little.”
A crooked smile caught hold of one side of his lips. “I thought it was the next step.”
“To where?”
He shrugged. “Who knows?”
“I don’t think your father would approve.” She’d recognized the looks Jonah had cast in her direction whenever Max stopped at her desk to talk. Mild disapproval beneath a benign facade. And there were other, darker glances she’d caught out of the corner of her eye when he thought she wasn’t looking.
“Why wouldn’t he approve?”
“He told me that you were dating Colleen Wheeler.”
Max snorted. “I took her out a couple of times. Before I met you. Jonah’s idea.”
“You always date the women he chooses for you?”
“Never. Except in the case of Colleen.” The waitress brought their drinks and a basket of warm bread before taking their orders. When she moved to the next table, Max’s eyes focused on Skye’s with such an intensity her throat turned to sand. “Let’s get something straight, right here, right now. I don’t do everything my father tells me to. It may look that way because I work for him, and once in a while, I admit, I’ll even humor him outside of the office, but my personal life is just that. Personal.”
“He’s a hard man to say no to,” she observed.
“Believe me, I’ve had a lot of practice.” He took a long swallow from his bottle of imported beer.
“So you’re a rebel.”
“Nope. I leave that title to Jenner.” Max winked. “He works hard for it. I just question the old man a lot, that’s all. It’s good for him.”
Skye wondered. From what she’d seen of Jonah P. McKee, she knew the man didn’t like his authority challenged by anyone. That included his firstborn son.
The waitress brought their meals. Max cut into a peppered steak smothered in grilled onions while Skye, though hardly tasting the food, did reasonable damage to her salad and halibut in butter sauce. She tried not to stare at Max, was determined not to compare him to his father, but she couldn’t help glancing up at him and finding him watching her with seductive turquoise eyes.
They lingered over cups of coffee and Skye listened as Max told her a little about growing up as a McKee. “It was both good and bad,” he admitted. “The good was that I was given everything I wanted. The bad was that I was given everything I wanted.” He set his empty cup on the table. “I can’t lie. I liked the easy life, and when I finally figured out
that I had to work for a living, it came as a big shock. I don’t think Jenner ever got over it.”
Skye laughed. “So why do I think you’re ambitious?”
He thought a minute while the waitress poured more coffee then moved to the next table. “Everyone grows up eventually. Especially when Jonah McKee gives you a swift kick in the butt. I guess he got tired of his kids being lazy, so one summer he told us that we had to learn to work if we expected to inherit anything. Jenner told him to go to hell, but I decided it was time to prove myself.”
Skye didn’t comment. She’d been born with ambition. Growing up poor had only added incentive and given her the drive she’d needed to excel in school, to earn scholarships, to work as a receptionist at the clinic and put the money in the bank. While she was going to high school and clocking in more hours than the child labor laws would allow, Dani had tried to convince her to buy a car.
“We could use the wheels,” Dani had said over and over again like a broken record.
Skye had been tempted, but she’d kept depositing her paychecks in the bank, looking toward a future that would help her leave Rimrock. She hadn’t been able to wait to head for the city. Only now, since she’d met Max, did she question the driving force behind her need to succeed, a force that had been with her for as long as she could remember.
He drove her home in the old pickup. The summer evening drifted through the open windows. Crickets chirped in a soft chorus and the smells of dust and cut hay mingled in the warm night. He pulled up to the curb in front of her house, and as she reached for the door handle, he grabbed her hand.
“Skye...” he said softly.
She turned to face him and stared into eyes that had darkened to the color of midnight. Warm lips found hers and his arms surrounded her, drawing her close as her blood began to heat and her body began to respond. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew that kissing him was as dangerous as stepping over the edge of a cliff and not knowing where she would land, but she couldn’t stop herself.
