Surrender to Chance [King's Bluff, Wyoming 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Read online

  Nearly two hours and two more cocktails later, she stood and had to grab the table as the world went a little woozy. Yep, she was toasted. Suzie wasn’t much better as she fumbled with her bag, putting the strap around her neck instead of over her shoulder.

  Thankfully, an alcohol-free Chloe spotted this crime against accessorizing before anyone else noticed, and shifted the bag’s strap to Suzie’s shoulder.

  “Wow, you guys really do have no resistance to alcohol, huh?” Reagan pushed a chair out of Olivia’s way. She nodded toward the front of the pub. “Gabe just walked in. Purdy’s waving him over.”

  Olivia adored Gabe. Years ago when Suzie shared that Gabe was a Dom and active in the BDSM lifestyle, Olivia had been curious, and maybe a little concerned. But she couldn’t argue with the fact the man treated her bestie like she was a princess.

  Olivia turned, slowly, to see the tall form of Gabe Monroe walking toward them. Principal of King’s Bluff’s school and all-round awesome guy, he cast his measured gaze over both his wife and Olivia. “Partied hard, ladies?”

  Olivia nodded, and then widened her eyes as her head fogged over. “As hard as we can, Gabe, my man.”

  He smothered a laugh. “So I see. I’ll put my lovely wife in the car, and then I’ll be back to escort you.”

  She pushed her shoulders back. “No, I can make it.”

  Gabe reached for Suzie’s hand. “No, you’ll stay there, and I’ll come back for you.” His tone brooked no argument.

  Her limbs froze in place. Yeah, sometimes his easy-going manner hid the fact he was a Dom. “Okay.”

  “Chloe and I can wait with her while you get Suzie settled,” Reagan offered.

  Satisfied, Gabe thanked Reagan, then led Suzie out with a sturdy arm around her waist.

  Drinking all that liquid had another unforeseen affect. “I’m heading to the bathroom.”

  Olivia took a few steps, managing not to fall down. It was easy once she got a rhythm going. “I’m fine. Sound the alarm if I’m not back in ten minutes.”

  In fact, she was in the hallway returning to the bar in less than five minutes when a large form appeared in front of her. The person looked smudgy in the dimmed light, but decidedly male. She blinked to refocus. Then the giant stepped directly under the light overhead.

  Oh my gosh. He fit Purdy’s “handsome stranger” to a T.

  He wore a denim shirt and jeans which fit the tall, strong lines of his body to perfection. Did she say tall? She tilted her head back in an attempt to try to see the color of his eyes, but it was hard to tell because of the shadows. Light blue, maybe gray? A strong square jaw and dark hair that reached his collar in a careless, brushed-back style, as if he finger combed it each morning. Rugged. That was the word that best described him.

  Oh, my. This was a sign.

  “Carpe cutie,” she whispered.

  “Sweetness, are you okay?” Cutie asked in a deep, sexy voice, sending a delicious tingle over her skin.

  “It’s just, well, my friend was teasing me earlier about kissing a stranger and—” She broke off, felt her eyes widen. “Oh, she’s good.” Wicked more like. “That blonde minx put you up to this, didn’t she?” Who knew alcohol would give her extra-special powers of deduction.

  The giant’s eyebrows rose. “Blonde minx?”

  “She thinks I’ll chicken out, doesn’t she? Ha!” She threw her arm out in a grand gesture only to lose her balance and sway dangerously to the left.

  Captain Cutie steadied her with his hands on her waist. And then kept them there.

  “Ma’am, why don’t I take you—”

  “I can handle whatever smurf-smurtification she throws at me, buddy.” She stabbed a finger into the broad expanse of his chest. Even in her foggy state she noted the hardness.

  “Smurfs? You mean the blue cartoon guys?” His voice held amusement.

  “No, silly.” She playfully slapped his arm, then decided running her hand over the bunching muscles of his shoulders was way more fun. “Smut. Smutititication.”

  “I’m glad we’ve cleared that up.” He stepped to the side and gestured with one of his hands toward the entrance back to the bar. “Tell me your name, honey, so we can find your friends.”

  And admit defeat? “No way, Cutie.” Putting her hands on his chest, she pushed him against the wall. Silently congratulating herself on her super-cool moves, she stood on tiptoes and leaned against him. She ran her hands through the thick, dark strands of his hair.

  Cutie glanced toward the doorway as he placed his hands loosely on her hips. “Far be it from me to stop a lady on a mission, but I’m thinking you’re going to regret this in the morning.”

  “Shut up and kiss me.” Olivia pulled his head down, kissing him right on the lips.

  His body stiffened in surprise, then as if purposely letting her set the pace, he neither pulled away nor pushed for more.

  She seized her chance, and slanted her mouth for better access, opening her lips in a sultry welcome. Nibbling on his lower lip, she tasted him. Beer. Salt. She loved it. Went back for more, thrilled when he increased the pressure of his lips on hers.

  His hands tightened on her waist before he spread his fingers wide to caress her skin through her clothing. She moaned with her craving. How long had it been since a man had touched her that way? Long before the day her husband had ended their marriage. A year ago.

  An image of her ex, with his pale, urbane features, trespassed into her mind. She kicked it back into the darkness.

  The here and now was what counted. Being with a man. Being touched. Being desired.

  A day’s worth of whiskers scratched her chin. It felt delicious and masculine and thrilled her on a basic feminine level. She wanted to experience that same abrasion on other parts of her body—on her nipples, her stomach, and…her thighs.

  “Fuck this.” He seized control, plunging his tongue into her mouth, sweeping the warm confines and demanding full access.

  Her fingers twisted in his hair, bringing a warning growl from deep in his chest that fired a pulse of excitement down low. She felt her nipples harden. Pleasure filled her at the idea of such a virile male letting her go so far, then taking charge.

  Loud laughter from out in the front area crashed into her enjoyment, reminding her of the present. Oops. She couldn’t be found necking in a hallway to the bathroom.

  Olivia stepped back reluctantly and sighed.

  He brushed a tendril of hair behind her ear. “Sweetness, I—”

  “No,” she interrupted. “Please, whatever you’re going to say, don’t.” She smiled as a new lightness filled her body. “That was”—she drew in a breath—“lovely.”

  Shadows hid the finer details of his features, but served only to accentuate the rough timbre of his voice. “Let me walk you out. Make sure you’re okay.”

  “I’m already okay.” She gave him a small smile. Talking would spoil the moment. “Good night.”

  Praying her legs got her back, she walked down the corridor, then out into the main bar. As the sounds and shouts of people having a good time floated past her, she saw Gabe stride over from the front entrance. Perfect timing.

  Turning, she gave Reagan and Chloe a wave, and saved a big smile for Purdy as she shook her finger at her friend. The little blonde wore a quizzical expression as the three women stood beside their table.

  Sure, play the innocent. Olivia smiled to herself. If her cutie told Purdy of their encounter, that was fine. But she’d achieved more than a successful conclusion to a dare.

  She had her fun mojo back.

  Chapter Two

  In an hour, it would all be over, good or bad. Olivia Fletcher flexed her too-tight grip of the steering wheel. Blood flowed back into once cramped fingers as she guided her mom’s truck down the road, passing the rows of tall pines that dotted the mountainside. You. Can. Do. This. She needed to stay composed, ready to deliver quick, confident answers. After all, it was just an interview with a prospective client, right?<
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  But what a client. Alex and Kane MacKenzie, business moguls with varied global interests, needed a public relations consultant to handle local King’s Bluff promotions for their exclusive lodge just outside of town. That kind of job didn’t come around every day. Not in a small community.

  Getting this position would have the power to change her life.

  But could she convince the MacKenzies they’d found the right candidate? She bit down on her lip. Seven years working as the executive assistant for the CEO of an international insurance conglomerate in New York showed she had the credentials to handle sensitive issues and keep things running smoothly. Her skills were exemplary. So why couldn’t she banish the tight knot of nerves in her belly?

  With a jab of her finger, she lowered the driver’s window a couple of inches, letting the summer breeze lift her fringe and dry the fine line of perspiration dotting her forehead.

  Was it fear of failing and disappointing herself and others? How many times in the last ten years had she allowed those thoughts to hobble her spirit? If she’d been a better wife, if she’d lost the weight Alan wanted her to, if she’d—

  Dammit.

  She shook her head hard enough to make the short dangly bits of her gold earrings tap against the skin under her ears.

  Head out of the past, Livy. She knew better than that now.

  Her weight wasn’t a barometer of her worth, despite the opinion of her image conscious ex. “Next time wear black. It hides your ass.” How many times had he inspected her plate at a client’s party, his eyes scornful. Don’t eat that pastry. His lips curled in revulsion. “God, did you leave food for anyone else?” All those crash diets and gym memberships she sweated through in the name of keeping her husband happy. And for what, when in the end no matter what she’d done, he’d always chased the money and prestige, along with other women, regardless of her dress size?

  Her sigh came out in one long whoosh. Alan hadn’t always been an ass. He’d been charming, humorous. They’d laughed together, cuddled. How had all her plans for the future—marriage, motherhood, being happy—changed so much?

  The back of her eyes burned. Enough! No tears. Not when a possible new beginning was staring her in the face. The opportunity was so tantalizingly close. Please, please work out.

  And if she snagged the job? She shook her head. Nope, she dare not presume. There was too much at stake to tempt fate.

  She’d used up enough good luck in getting the interview. A chance comment from Alex MacKenzie to a friend of a friend led to a hurried phone call urging her to get up the mountain before the opportunity passed. She’d have to think up a nice thank you gift for setting this up. Maybe a box of homemade mint-chocolate bark?

  Up ahead, a discrete sign announced the turnoff to MacKenzie Lodge. She headed down the private road, smiling at the carpet of wildflowers bordering each side. What a gorgeous introduction to the ultra-exclusive mountain getaway for tycoons with a yearning to experience the great outdoors while surrounded in the lap of luxury.

  From what she’d gathered during the rushed phone call with Chloe, the clientele were the same kind of high-powered CEOs and their trophy wives she’d encountered as part of her job back in New York.

  Back in New York…

  She laughed softly. The city of steel skyscrapers and traffic-jammed avenues was a world away from the pine-covered mountains of Bighorn in more ways than one. New York was her past. King’s Bluff represented her future.

  As the road inclined, she pressed her foot harder on the accelerator. The tired old engine’s answering roar fired her with determination. Her new beginning lay ahead, ready for the taking. She’d grab it with both hands and hold on tight.

  * * * *

  Alex sat behind his desk as he scrubbed a hand through his hair, tugging hard on the short strands. The burning at the follicles gave him some small measure of satisfaction, a feeling normally provided by his view of the lake at MacKenzie Lodge. Not today.

  He speared his construction manager with a glare certain to intimidate and one he’d perfected from years in the SEALs. “This is unacceptable, Mason.”

  The man’s complexion, ruddy from years spent outside in the ravages of weather, paled. “The gate to the fence around the building site was locked, Mr. MacKenzie. I checked it myself before leaving for the day. Someone tampered with it.” Mason’s mouth turned down. “Once past the fence, they broke into our shed. That’s how they got the key to the backhoe.”

  Alex forced himself to breathe deep. It wasn’t Mason’s fault some idiot had trespassed on their land. He’d never guessed they’d have this kind of trouble in King’s Bluff. There was a small minority against outsiders coming in with their plans for change, but for the most part, the locals were glad for the employment opportunities. “How much time have we lost on the project?”

  “None. They dug a big hole. Missed any plumbing or foundations. The construction won’t be held up. We’ll fill up the hole and move on.” The supervisor’s brows knitted in a frown. “It’s more a nuisance than anything else.”

  “That seems to be their point.” It matched up with last week’s instance where logs had been dumped across an access road.

  He didn’t have time for this bullshit.

  “Move all equipment you have on-site to the main compound in the west pasture.” He held up his hand as Mason was about to speak. “I know it’s a pain, but I can’t run the risk of more break-ins and that area has camera surveillance. If the bastards try to gain entry, we’ll have them on tape.”

  The supervisor sighed but recognized this wasn’t up for negotiation. He nodded before getting to his feet. “You’ll be speaking to Quinn Sullivan about this?”

  “Count on it.” Alex had called Quinn first thing this morning after receiving detailed reports from the night security. His former SEAL teammate and security expert would meet him for lunch. “Expect him to give you a call and look over the site with you.”

  “Yes, sir.” Mason nodded before leaving.

  Alex gazed down at his desk. Piles of papers covered the polished wood and green leather. Jesus, he had better things to do than deal with troublemakers who’d piss in their pants if ever confronted by a SEAL.

  If only Louisa Palmer, the executive secretary for the CEO of MacKenzie Corp from before Moses was in diapers, were here to fire a bomb under these vandals and free up his time.

  He smiled at the idea of the dainty sixty-three-year-old confronting whoever was behind the amateurish but still effective campaign to annoy the living shit out of him.

  With unquestionable loyalty, Louisa had been the one constant female presence in his life. While others schemed to gain favor, she never wavered in telling him what she thought, and had been doing so years before he’d taken control of the family business. From lecturing him on how to treat a girl on a date, to his time in the service when she’d sent him care packages filled with knitted scarves and long, handwritten letters, she’d cared.

  A sharp ringing interrupted his thoughts. He snatched up his cell, cursing at the name displayed on the caller I.D. The irony of the call’s timing wasn’t lost on him.

  Claudette. Damned if he’d call her mother.

  He tightened his jaw and tapped the screen.

  “Yes, Claudette?”

  There was a pause before he heard the voice of a woman who was a stranger to him in all the ways that counted.

  “I need money.”

  “Your monthly allowance was paid last week.” He kept his tone flat despite the coldness that seeped into his chest.

  “I had some unexpected expenses. It’s not like you can’t afford it.”

  Like she’d never been able to afford a hug or kind word to a small boy? How many times had he tried his best, ran the fastest in sports races, got straight A’s on tests, anything in the hope she’d show him a crumb of attention. Shipping him off to boarding school at the age of ten had ended up a cruel kindness.

  “What kind of expenses.” />
  Claudette’s voice tightened with resentment. “The kind I shouldn’t have to detail to my own son. God, I am your mother.”

  “You’re way too late to use that title with me. Send me a list of your costs with explanations. I’ll determine if they warrant a special payment. Otherwise, you’ll just have to economize. Maybe one of your hangers-on can go without first-class airfare for one month.”

  “You cold bastard. You’re just like your father.”

  “Thanks for the compliment. Send me the list.”

  He hung up, then tossed the phone back onto his desk.

  Hands curled into fists, he thumped the desk. Fuck, even after all these years he still let her get to him.

  A more cold-hearted bitch he’d yet to meet. Good thing their father had seen her true colors before he’d died, divorcing her and making sure in his will she couldn’t get her hands on the money she’d coveted. If only Garrett MacKenzie hadn’t passed, leaving two young boys. If only Alex had a chance to spend more time with his dad.

  Alex tightened his jaw. Life wasn’t made for if onlys. He dealt with the shit he was given the best he knew how and moved on. Far away from his mother.

  Sitting in his office in all his pissed-off glory served no purpose. He’d sweat it out in the gym. An hour punching a bag until he couldn’t lift his arms might purge his bad mood.

  He grabbed his cell phone, turning it off before slipping it in his pants pocket. He didn’t trust Claudette not to call again and plead her case. Or worse, phone Kane and ask him to plead on her behalf.

  As they’d grown up, she’d enjoyed trying to play one brother against the other, showering Kane with all the affection she’d denied her eldest son. Years later, Alex had wondered if every act against him was a substitute for a hit against his father, whose death had denied her that personal satisfaction. Alex had worked hard to make sure Kane felt no guilt at Claudette’s behavior. That was what a big brother did—looked out for those younger.

  He’d despise the woman a tiny bit less if she didn’t try to manipulate Kane’s latent Sir Galahad complex. His younger brother would move mountains to protect a lady. Hell, so would Alex if one was in danger, but Kane had a softer heart. A few tears and the right words could sway him where Alex saw those maneuvers for what they were. Lies. Plots to make a man do what a woman wanted, give whatever they craved. It had been that way with his mother. It sure as hell had been that way with his ex-fiancée. His mouth twisted in distaste. Now, there was a piece of work.