Free Falling (12 page)

Free rubbed her head and winced. “We
shouldn’t…” Her voice trailed off as Mac swiftly closed the
distance between them. All wet and disheveled she looked much too
desirable.

Mac took her arm and turned her around.
“Let’s try it this way.” Reluctantly, she allowed him to guide her
back to the kitchen and out the door.

Silently, they crossed the yard and paused at
her steps. The rain had stopped and the moon shone brightly on the
glistening leaves of the trees and shrubbery.

“I’m sorry, Mac,” she said softly, then
stared at the ground.

He lifted her chin and smiled at her, her
breath caught and his heart stumbled at the sound. “I’m not.” He
lowered his head and kissed her gently.

Her eyes stayed closed for a long moment
after he ended the kiss. His body tightened all over again at the
vulnerability he saw on her sweet face. When her eyes fluttered
open, something inside him shifted and he wasn’t sure he’d be able
to walk away.

“Mac, would you spend the day with me
tomorrow?”

He blinked once, twice, then stared at her.
“Spend the day with you?” he echoed. It wasn’t exactly the
invitation he’d hoped to hear, but at least she wanted to be with
him again.

“You work so hard all the time—you deserve a
day off. I’d love to show you some of my favorite leisure
activities,” she said quickly, as if she feared losing her nerve at
any moment.

“I have a lot of work to do, people depending
on me,” he protested halfheartedly.

“You employ competent people who know their
jobs. Surely they can get by without you for one day,” she
insisted.

“I’m not sure I can do that,” he argued
without conviction. He wanted to. Oh, he definitely wanted to, but
he couldn’t. It wasn’t the way he did things.

“You’re the boss. Of course you can!”

If he hadn’t allowed himself to look into her
eyes one last time, he could have said no. The word was on the tip
of his tongue. But he looked. And those big blue eyes had melted
whatever willpower he had. He couldn’t say no. If his life had
depended upon it, he couldn’t have said no.

“All right,” he croaked. “I’ll spend the day
with you tomorrow.”

Free smiled widely, then tiptoed to press a
chaste kiss on his lips. Before he could react she had disappeared
into her house.

Mac stood there for a long moment, dazed.
What had he done? He had never taken a day off from work to spend
with a woman.

Never.

But this gypsy had cast her spell and he was
helpless against it. For the first time in his adult life, he felt
completely at the mercy of another person.

And he didn’t like it.

He didn’t like it at all.

Chapter Six

Mac crammed his hard hat on his head and drew
in a deep, resolute breath. This was the right thing to do.
Spending the day with Free was not.
Was not,
he
repeated.

He had beaten himself up all night over his
moment of weakness. He could not, would not go down that road. Jake
was wrong; Mac didn’t need to have her. She made him feel too
much.

She made him want too much.

Mostly she confused him.

Mac slipped his cell phone into his shirt
pocket, then grabbed his rolled-up blueprints and headed for the
door. He did not want to want the things Free Renzetti made him
want.

No. No. Absolutely not.

He could call her later in the morning and
tell her that something had come up. It wasn’t that big a deal
anyway. After all, it wasn’t even technically a date.

Date.
Mac grimaced.

He had to get out of here. He opened the door
and pushed out into the bright morning sun. The only reminders of
last nights’ rain showers were a small puddle on the sidewalk and a
thousand glittering droplets on the leaves and grass. Had her
dancing in the dark, in the rain, been a dream? Free had glided
around the yard as if on air. The rain had plastered the thin white
dress to her body. No, it had been real.

Too damn real.

He didn’t need that kind of distraction.

Mac clenched his jaw. The business was all he
needed. It was all he had ever needed. He had learned at a very
young age to focus on one goal and one goal only, survival. Work
equaled survival in his book. He had to work. Work defined him.

An engine cranked and then sputtered to life.
Mac looked up just in time to see Free turning her truck around and
heading in his direction. He muttered two oaths and then clenched
his jaw. Why couldn’t he have gotten on the road before she came
out?

“Good morning,” she said, all smiles.

“Morning,” he managed.

Free bounded out of the truck, her long blue
skirt flowing to cover everything to mid-calf. A shiny silver
bracelet encompassed one delicate ankle. And barefoot! Did the
woman ever wear shoes? He suddenly pictured her barefoot and round
with child. He jerked, wide-eyed and shaken to the core. Damn. This
woman made him think about things he didn’t want to think
about.

“Perfect,” she said after examining him from
head to toe. “But” she reached up and snatched off his protective
headgear “the hardhat is overkill.”

Before he could protest, she had seized the
blueprints from his hand and confiscated the cell phone from his
pocket, then added, “You won’t need these either.” She left him,
mouth gaping, and returned the necessities of his life to his back
door.

“Let’s go,” she enthused as she swept around
the corner of the house.

Mac found his voice. “Wait a minute. I can’t
go,” he said tersely, steeling himself for her protests.

She smiled, Mac’s stomach clenched. “Don’t be
silly. Of course you can go.” She looked up at him with those
gorgeous baby blues. “You said you would.”

Mac let go a frustrated breath. This was
hopeless. How could he say no? But how could he go? It was crazy.
He shouldn’t have agreed to this. “I know I said I would, but—”

“Not buts, Mac,” she interrupted, her tone
final. “A promise is a promise.”

A promise.
Mac closed his eyes for a
second to collect his crumbling resolve. He didn’t make promises;
he negotiated agreements, proposals, contracts, but he absolutely
did not do promises.

Free didn’t wait for him to answer; she
stepped around the hood of the truck and opened the driver’s side
door.

Feeling like he’d just been hit by a train,
Mac yanked the passenger-side door open too quickly and whacked
himself in the head. Stifling a dozen scorching expletives, he
rubbed his forehead and slid into the dilapidated old truck. The
ache in his head pounded in time with the waves of irritation at
his own stupidity washing over him. He would regret this, he knew
he would. But for the life of him, he just couldn’t say no.

Mac had built a career on being tough. On
making the buck-stops-here decisions no one else wanted to make. He
was ruthless in business. He could probably look the president
himself on the eye and deny him any request. But he couldn’t say no
to one sexy gypsy.

He was doomed.

He turned to ask Free where exactly she
planned to take him. He found himself eyeball to eyeball with
Oscar, Free’s overly friendly Lab. The beast gave him a big, sloppy
kiss from chin to forehead, then promptly settled his head on Mac’s
lap.

“Oscar, you behave,” Free scolded and buckled
her seat belt. “Buckle up, Mac,” she added, giving him a melting
smile.

Oscar lifted his head and gazed at her for
abut two seconds before reclaiming his chosen spot. Mac tried to
shift from his reach, but the door stopped him.

“Sorry. He’s still a puppy.” Free shrugged,
then shifted into gear and pulled out of the driveway.

Biting back another expletive, Mac wiped his
damp jaw on his shirt sleeve. No dog this big could be considered a
puppy, he argued silently as he snapped the old seat belt into
place. He shot the animal a disgusted look and then stared at Free.
Without preamble, his body tightened. Gold and brown tendrils
curled around her face, silky curls cascaded over her shoulders.
Her profile was soft and irresistibly appealing.

Mac’s gaze roamed down her bare forearm, then
bounced back up to her firm breasts. The matching blue tank top she
wore didn’t dip low enough for cleavage display, but it clung to
her shape like a second skin. The woman never wore a bra,
apparently. His heart rate accelerated and his throat tightened
with yearning. Those tight buds straining against her blouse
taunted him. How would he love to taste that sensitive flesh and
tease those perky nipples with his teeth—this time, mouth to naked
flesh.

He could still vividly recall the subtle
scent of roses that lingered on her skin. How could she know how
much that particular fragrance appealed to him? Mac swallowed hard
and averted his gaze. He shifted restlessly in his seat, his jeans
suddenly too tight. Oscar looked up in obvious irritation.

Mac glared at the animal, willing him to
move, but he merely dropped his big head back into Mac’s lap. Mac
promptly moved the dog’s head aside, angled himself away from the
beast and then propped his elbow on the open window.

The landscape changed from city streets to
country roads in a few short minutes. Free described in detail
anything he deemed worthy of mention, which amounted to most
everything they passed. Mac tried to ignore her enthusiastic
chatter, but her animated features made it impossible.

He was mesmerized.

Every gesture, every look, every smile drew
him. Lost in an intimate world of their own, nothing else
mattered.

Free turned onto an old dirt road that
resembled a wagon trail more than an actual road. Oscar leaned
first one way and then the other to regain his balance as they
bounced over the rutted passage. Finally, Free stopped at a gate
that crossed their path.

Mac squinted at the sign posted on the
gate.

No trespassing?

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” he
asked when Free opened her door to get out. He looked at her and
then their heavily wooded environment, concern creasing his brow.
This was backwoods Alabama, where folks shot people for
trespassing.

“It’s okay. I come here all the time,” she
assured him before trotting off to open the gate.

Mac rolled his eyes. That certainly wasn’t
any comfort. She hopped back in and drove the truck through the
open gate and then jumped back out to close it. There had to be a
reason for the gate, and the fence, he thought, after taking
another long look around. Cattle, maybe? He scanned the woods
again. No, probably not cattle.

Oscar solemnly surveyed the situation. Dogs,
then, Mac decided. No, there wasn’t any barking. Couldn’t be
dogs—dogs barked.

Uneasiness slid through him and he found
himself asking, “Are you sure it’s okay to be here?”

“Positive,” she said with a wide smile.

Mac shrugged off the niggling uneasiness and
rested his arm across the back of the seat. Two inches, he realized
with a secret smile. If he leaned in her direction just two inches,
his fingertips would make contact with those silky strands. His
breathing changed in anticipation of how it would feel to touch
Free again. Oscar abruptly turned and stuck his cold nose to Mac’s
jaw.

Damn.
Between this mutt and his
wayward thoughts, Mac felt ready to explode.

Free stopped the truck in a wide clearing
that cut into the woods on either side of a meandering stream. The
canopy of trees above them had parted, allowing the sun to sparkle
on the reflective water.

The uneasy feeling returned, but it had
nothing to do with no trespassing signs and everything to do with
being out of his element. Mac didn’t enjoy nature much—or hiking or
bird-watching or any of that other environmentally correct
stuff.

He needed commercial carpet under his feet,
fluorescent lights glowing overhead, and the smell of ink on his
fingers.

“Out, boy,” Free commanded.

Mac jerked to face her, then realized she’d
been speaking to Oscar. He exhaled and got out. He could do this.
It didn’t take camouflage pants, tobacco in his lip, and a buzz cut
to be an outdoors kind of guy. Common sense, that’s all he needed;
nature would take care of the rest.

“Grab that basket and blanket,” Free told
him. She reached into the bed of the truck and brought out what he
recognized as two fishing poles and a bucket. “The stream runs into
a large pocket of water not too far from here. The fishing is
usually pretty good this time of year.”

“Okay,” Mac replied and did as she had asked.
The basket weighed a ton. That was a good sign, since lunch would
be in the basket. And since he hadn’t eaten breakfast, he was very
interested in lunch. He hefted the goods and started after Free.
Oscar followed, stopping frequently to investigate his
surroundings.

Yeah, Mac decided, this would be a piece of
cake. Heck, when you got right down to it, a guy could do anything
he set his mind to.

~*~

Mac couldn’t do anything.

Free sighed as she watched him try again to
bait his hook. She had done it for him the last two times he’d lost
his bait. The man had never been fishing. For the love of Mike,
what father didn’t take his son fishing at least once in his life?
She shook her head.

“You know,” she began, distracting him from
his intense concentration on the hook. “I think I’d like to take a
walk now.”

Mac frowned. “What about the fish?”

She had to bite her lip to prevent pointing
out that he’d made so much noise and plopped his line in and out of
the water so many times that he’d scared away any self-respecting
fish within a mile. But she didn’t. Instead, she said, “They’re not
biting.”

She stripped the bait from her hook, wrapped
the line around her pole and set it aside. Studying her closely,
Mac followed suit. He tried, she’d give him that.