Mary’s nerves dropped away completely, and the no-nonsense businesswoman with an attitude took over. She had been open to him in more ways than one last night, and he was the one who’d walked away. She didn’t want to play games anymore, back and forth and want and don’t want-it was b.s. “All I want right now is to do my job. The best damn job anyone’s ever seen.”

His eyes glittered with ire. “I have no doubt you’ll succeed in that.”

“And after I’ve finished this job, I want to leave here. I want to go back home and…” She paused, unable to finish her sentence. Why couldn’t she finish that sentence?

“And?” he asked.

She would go back home and work as she always had, with no more interruptions or complications. No doubt, just like Ethan.

The frustration in her tone was obvious. “Would you like the tasting or should I cancel it?”

“I’ll be there. One-thirty, right?”

She nodded and stood. “It’s going to be at Fanfare restaurant in town, right on Main Street. Easy to find.” She headed off toward the barn. Another shower sounded good, thirty minutes under hot water to clear her head and retune her attitude.

“I’ll come by the barn to pick you up at one,” Ethan called after her, making Mary stop in her tracks and whirl around to face him. “We can walk this time. No more horses.”

“We?” she uttered hoarsely. “No, I don’t need to be there. The staff will write down everything you like and don’t like and report back to-”

“I want you there,” he said, reclining on the bench, looking like the CEO of the world. “And at least until the end of the barbecue tomorrow, you work for me.”

Without realizing it, the catering staff at Fanfare had romanticized an event that should have been nothing more than a business meeting. On the walk over, Mary had imagined that she and Ethan would stand at one of the prep stations in the restaurant’s kitchen and sample a variety of dishes, writing down their thoughts on a piece of scratch paper in between bites, then they would thank the staff for their service and get out of there. Later, Mary would call the head chef and discuss what worked for the client and what didn’t.

This was normally how it was done on the mainland, but clearly things were taken to an entirely different level on Mackinac Island when a hotshot millionaire was throwing a party for the island’s upper crust.

On the restaurant’s cozy deck overlooking the lake, a table had been dressed with exquisite white linens, funky blue plates, silver, wineglasses and frosted beer glasses.

“I feel like I should’ve worn a tie,” Ethan said with a sardonic grin as he was seated at the table.

“Me, too,” replied Mary.

“No. You look too good in that dress.”

She smiled.

Taking in the elaborate scene before him, Ethan raised one dark brow at her. “Are you sure they’re going to be able to pull off a beach barbecue?”

She tossed him a mock frown as the waitstaff poured samples of wine and beer. “Are you questioning my abilities, Mr. Curtis?”

Lifting a mug, he gave her a silent toast. “I’d be a fool.”

“Damn right.” In spite of herself, she grinned at him as several dishes were set before them. “How about we taste and see?”

Amusement glittered in his eyes at the unintended double meaning in her words. “You make me crazy, you know that?”

“Right back at ya, Curtis.”

Each item the staff laid before them was whimsical and over-the-moon delicious. Grilled whitefish and chips wrapped in paper, sweet-potato fries with a killer dipping sauce, salads, pork, chicken, desserts. And they sampled it all, along with fresh-squeezed lemonade, interesting wines and rich beer.

At long last, Ethan sat back in his chair and sighed. “I approve.”

Mary laughed as she tried to get up from the table. “I thought you might.”

After thanking the staff, they walked back to The Birches, thankful for the exercise as they were both stuffed to the gills. Several times, Ethan reached out to take Mary’s hand, then stopped himself. They weren’t a couple. Sure, there was an intense sexual attraction between them, unfinished business that he wanted to see to, taste again-damn, he couldn’t get last night out of his head-but he was kidding himself if he thought they’d just been on a date, that they were starting a romantic relationship.

Once they were in the driveway, Ethan followed her to the barn and paused at the door. Mary’s cheeks were flushed and she looked relaxed and satisfied with their day. She took off her sandals and stood there in her virginal white sundress, the same need he’d seen last night in her eyes-the same need that was no doubt echoed in his.

“I think I’m a little tipsy,” she said, opening the door.

“There’s nothing wrong with that.”

She laughed. “It’s three o’clock in the afternoon.”

“Are you going to be operating any heavy farm machinery this afternoon?”

“No.”

“Then you’re fine.”

“Thanks for walking me to my door, so to speak, but I’m good from here.”

Cursing, he leaned against the door frame, feeling frustrated and dense. “Why the hell are we fighting this?”

She shrugged. “I don’t think I am.”

“Fine. Why am I fighting this?”

“Because you hate me?”

“No, I don’t think that’s true anymore.” He reached out and took her hand. “In fact I don’t think that was ever true. I think it’s quite the opposite and that’s why I’m fighting it.” He took her other hand and pressed them behind her back, leaned in and kissed her gently, sensually on the mouth. “Come on,” he uttered, leading her inside.

“No more games, Ethan,” she said, her tone fragile for the first time since they’d met.

“No.” He shook his head, led her up the stairs, but halfway there his need to kiss her, taste her, had him pulling her into his arms.

“The bed…” she uttered hoarsely.

Ethan nuzzled her neck, the curve of her ear, making her moan. “We’ll get there.”

Eleven

Somehow they stumbled up the stairs, clothes marking their way like Hansel and Gretel’s breadcrumbs. Mary clung to Ethan like a rag doll, covering his mouth and neck with hungry kisses as he led them into the bedroom and onto the down comforter. She only knew her shirt and bra were off when her warm back met the cool, soft down and when Ethan lowered himself on top of her, the hair on his chest tickling her, and the delicious, hot weight of him making her heart jump with excitement.

Her skin felt as if it was on fire, itchy, needy, and she couldn’t get him to touch her everywhere at once, so she had to force herself to relax as he lazily kissed her throat and breasts, nuzzling one nipple with his nose and cheek until Mary could hardly stand the torture and he finally gave in and suckled her deep into his mouth, tugging at the flesh with his teeth. She was in a dream-she had to be-but she didn’t want to be. No matter how she and Ethan had begun, there was real, honest-to-goodness affection here. She was really falling hard for him, and she desperately wanted him to make love to her.

He found her mouth again, and as his hands took over, kneading the undersides of her breasts, cupping them, feeling their weight, slowly circling the firm peaks with his thumbs, Mary moaned, plunging her fingers into his thick hair.

His jeans and the small scrap of cotton at her hips were all that separated them, and Mary couldn’t stand it. With deft fingers, she flicked the button and slid down his zipper, her hand delving inside to feel him, hold him, make him as insane with desire as she was.

Ethan sucked in a breath as her fingers wrapped the hard, solid length of him, and Mary smiled as he continued to kiss her. He was like silk, pulsating, hot, steel-hard silk, and she ached to have him inside her. As she stroked him, Ethan hooked his thumbs under the waist-band of her underwear and slipped them down far enough that Mary could easily wriggle out of them. This was no sweet love scene; they wanted each other in a primitive way. They wanted to be connected, and Mary reveled in the fact that she felt like a horny teenager at the ripe old age of twenty-nine.

Ethan broke away for one second to pitch his pants to the floor, and when he returned, Mary pushed him back on the bed. She felt sexy and strong and wanted to climb on top of him and take what she wanted, be in control, and Ethan lay back and allowed her that, his hands instantly finding her hips.

She kneaded his chest with her hands, rolled his nipples between her fingers until his erection looked like a marble pillar, then she lifted up off him, pressed her hips forward and sank down until the curls between her legs met the coarse hair at his center.

Ethan uttered a curse, a deep throaty sound that went with the thrust he met her with. “Mary, I don’t-”

“Want this?”

A deep, almost wounded chuckle escaped him. “Are you kidding? No, I don’t have any protection.”

“I do,” she said breathlessly.

“You do?”

She pushed off him, her smooth legs brushing against his hair-roughened ones as she grabbed a foil packet from the bedside table drawer. “I’m not going to pretend I didn’t want this to happen,” she said, grinning down at him. “I came prepared.”

Ethan reached for the packet, but Mary wanted to do it herself, wanted to feel the latex as it slid over him, wanted to place him inside her again. After feeling so out of control for so long, she needed this, and for once Ethan let her take what she needed, let her slide back down over him, let her place his hands on her breasts as she rode him, her hips swiveling and thrusting as she tried to feel him from every angle.

“Tell me,” Ethan whispered, one hand trailing down her belly to the spot where they were joined, where wet heat made their movements quick and intensely pleasurable. “What do you want?”