Taking Home the Tycoon Page 2

Besides, it wasn’t like she was his type of female.

  “Thank you very much, Natalie. I will gratefully accept.”

  He smiled.

  And holy hell, that gave her pause. His smile lit his eyes and made her stomach flip in a way she’d forgotten was possible.

  What had she gotten herself into?

  * * *

  Cell phone in hand on his way to his rental vehicle, Max charged through the Texas Cattleman’s Club parking lot. The old-world men’s club dated back to around 1910, and was a large, rambling single-story building made of dark stone and wood with a tall slate roof. He needed to touch base with Chelsea and report on his progress with interviews this afternoon.

  And let her know he wasn’t going to be staying with her after all. He’d made—his mouth twitched—alternative plans. He unlocked the rented Lexus SUV—a larger car was a must to transport his gear.

  Natalie’s offer had stunned the hell out of him, but he hadn’t even hesitated. Would seducing a suspect jeopardize his investigation? Sure.

  Lucky for him, she wasn’t a suspect.

  Thumbing speed dial for Chels and setting the phone for hands-free talking, Max steered past the stable, pool and tennis courts, all TCC member perks. And all freshly maintained. Chels had told him part of the clubhouse roof and many of the outbuildings had been damaged in a massive tornado a few years back. The group now took special care to reinforce the roof and had added some height to the ceilings so the main building seemed airier than before.

  For a club steeped in tradition, a lot had changed in the TCC lately. He might not be a member, but he’d done his research since this group seemed to be the focus of the hacker’s attacks. Colors had been brightened. It wasn’t such an “old boys’ club” anymore, especially because women were now full members.

  He accelerated out of the lot and headed toward town, toward the B and B, just as Chelsea answered his call.

  “Max!” Her voice chimed through the car’s speaker as he drove. “Hello, my friend. How did the fact gathering go after I left?”

  “Interesting... Nothing conclusive yet, but lots of pieces to review and leads to follow once I get my gear set up.” He’d come straight from the airport.

  “I can’t thank you enough for dropping everything and coming here personally to help.”

  Chels’s voice filled the car as he made his way down the road. His eyes darted from the asphalt in front of him to the dusty town.

  “That’s what friends are for. We go way back. I still owe you for teaching me about which fork to use,” he joked, tapping his brakes to let a minivan out of a parking lot. She’d taught him more than that. She’d helped him learn the nuances to moving in circles of society he needed to build his business.

  She’d also given him the nod to be himself and not let those societal boundaries contain him. Heaven knows, she was an edgy original herself. They really could have been siblings, as they were made from the same mold in many ways.

  Slowing, he drove past a school yard teeming with children living idyllic lives of normalcy so different from his. Adults rushed to organize their students into an efficient line for parent pickup. Each little face trusted that their parents or a car pool member would arrive right on cue.

  Even from a passing glance, he saw the effort it took to contain the wildness of the children bursting with excitement to return to their home lives and after-school activities—activities that did not include Dumpster diving.

  “But you surely have higher-paying clients—especially since you’re doing this pro bono, in spite of our offers.” She exhaled a hard sigh and he could envision her shoving back her thick honey-blond hair impatiently. “And this feels, perhaps, below your pay grade. You could have sent one of your staff.”

  “This is sensitive. The info this bastard is sharing hurts you and your friends. I trust my staff, but I don’t want you exposed any more than is needed.” The criminal had made this personal by launching slanderous attacks on Chels’s friends here. Someone had infiltrated their personal data and found dirt for blackmailing—everything from revealing a man’s love child, to concocting the appearance of an affair to destroy a marriage, to dabbling in land documents to threaten land holdings. Nothing was secret or sacred to whoever had it in for the people of this town.

  Anger rippled through Max as he turned off the main road, eyes squinting in the glare of the September sun.

  “Thank you.” Her voice wobbled, full of emotional appreciation. She’d always hated to feel like an imposition, and he never wanted his old friend to feel that way.

  His pal had always been an in-your-face, indomitable spirit, ready to kick ass for a cause one moment and outrageously issue a skinny-dip dare in the next. That someone had his friend so afraid and off balance...pissed him off.

  “No thanks needed, Chels. I’m here for you, and I’ll do whatever it takes to see this through.”

  “You’re a good friend. I look forward to catching up with you while you’re staying with me.” Even over the phone, he could picture her smile. Loyal. Genuine.

  And now he had to figure out how to tell his pseudo sister that he’d made other arrangements for his stay in town.

  “Um, about that. I really feel bad about putting you out, so I made arrangements to stay at this nice little B and B called the Cimarron Rose.”

  Silence stretched for a few heartbeats.

  “That’s Natalie Valentine’s place. You interviewed her today after I left, right?” Her question came out quiet, noncommittal.

  He couldn’t get a read on her—was she defensive or enthusiastic? Chels wasn’t usually guarded around him, so she must be fishing.

  Well, he wasn’t feeling the need to share about his attraction. While Natalie might be new to the area, it was clear she’d become the town darling. The small community had embraced the young widow, and he sure as hell wasn’t the boy-next-door type of person. “Yes, I spoke with Natalie Valentine today. That’s how I heard about her place. It seems like a solid fit for me, given I don’t know how long I’ll be here.” He’d done some additional online digging into her business after Natalie left. More detailed, yes, more personal.

  The house was a far cry from the penthouse hotel suites he usually frequented. The B and B looked cozy—it was a white wood home, with large porches, ferns and rocking chairs. The ancient oak spread welcoming branches casting long-reaching shadows.

  And it was as far from the harsh streets of LA as he ever could have imagined. The town sprawled, buildings seemed to resist the urge to converge, to press against one another. There was space here. Places to go and exist. Places to hide, too.

  “Okay, that’s cool, Max,” Chelsea said slowly.

  “You aren’t going to argue?” he asked, surprised. “That’s a first.”

  “Nice. Not,” she joked right back.

  “I would just expect you to warn me off her, given you know who I am, how I am. She’s a war widow with two children.”

  “Of course I know you. Very well, in fact. And I know someday you’ll stop running.”

  Unease crawled up his spine. “Are you trying to push me toward her? Matchmake?”

  She chuckled lowly. “I wouldn’t dream of maneuvering your life.”

  Yeah. Right.

  Staying silent, he kept on driving, noting the old 1960s’ tin diner on the side of the road. A mix of old, rust-peppered cars were scattered throughout the parking lot, contrasting with newer, sleeker models. He had to be close to Natalie’s place. Based on the concentration of buildings—the diner, a strip mall and a grocery store—he guessed this was the center of town.

  “Max, really, I just figured you must be drawn to her if you’re staying there. You have to admit, that isn’t the kind of accommodations you usually choose.”

  True, perhaps. But there was a
time he would have considered the Cimarron Rose pure heaven and far out of his reach. In many ways, it still was. He’d chosen a different path for his life. Impersonal. Sleek.

  Impenetrable. Just like his cybersecurity.

  So how to deal with Chels’s Cupid leanings?

  Don’t even take the bait. This was about him and Natalie. And who the hell even knew where it might lead? But he wouldn’t want there to be gossip. “Natalie offered.” Remembering that moment pleased him. She had seemed to surprise herself with the offer, but she’d been sincere. Hell, something told him she’d needed to make the offer and contribute to keeping her town safe. He liked that. “She seems to want to help. I’m comfortable with the choice, and it will give me the opportunity to get the pulse of the traffic flowing in and out of town in a way I wouldn’t be able to do staying at your place.”

  “Right,” Chels said skeptically. “Okay, so you’re staying there because it’s comfy. Got it. Are you sure there’s enough bandwidth for you there?”

  As if he would rely on anyone else’s connection?

  “Ah, come on, you know me better than that. Since when do I travel without remote-access capabilities?” He had his own equipment and boosters up the wazoo.

  “Okay, I’ll be frank. I know you too well to buy these cagey answers. Natalie is not the kind of woman you usually pursue, so I think you need to be careful, for your sake. I care about you, bro.” Chels always had a knack for being blunt, even when Max didn’t want to hear it.

  She was worried about his feelings?

  For real?

  “Who even said I’m chasing her?” he asked too quickly. Damn it. Still, he wasn’t giving ground. He pulled into the B and B’s lot.

  No. This wasn’t the kind of place he typically stayed in. The pictures online hardly did the place justice.

  The white cottage with reddish-brown trim was framed by an oak tree that seemed to use a tree branch to gesture invitingly to the front door. A warm glow emanated from the windows.

  His eyes were drawn to the side yard—to Natalie. A golden retriever danced around, nuzzling Natalie’s son. Her daughter stood leaning against her leg, head thrown back in a giggle, red pigtails dancing.

  “I just said I’m staying at her place. In fact, she generously offered a room to thank me for helping out with the investigation.”

  “Uh-huh, okay, Max...”

  The rest of his friend’s words droned in his ears as he couldn’t tear his eyes off Natalie. She’d exchanged her flour-flecked clothes for a simple, long sundress that grazed her curves. She was still earthy but fresh, and her hair swung free.

  As if she could tell he was entranced, she turned, looked straight at him. His breath caught in his chest. Like a fist right to the sternum. There was no denying the impact.

  He turned off his car. “Chels, I gotta go.”

  Time to check in to his new digs.

  And check out his new landlady.

  Two

  Concentrate, Natalie sharply reminded herself, looking into the dark eyes of Miss Molly, the golden retriever puppy who had a very specific purpose within their family unit. Natalie wanted to make sure her autistic son had every advantage in the world. And so she’d hired a trainer to help transform Miss Molly into the model service dog. Miss Molly had a lot of potential to help her son.

  But not if her mind kept wandering during training sessions like this. Max’s handsome face drifted in and out of her mind. He’d unnerved her, caused a rupture in her day-to-day routine—a routine she had carefully constructed since losing her husband. The daily structure was everything she had—it gave her a sense of stability and power.

  Enter Max. A big, bad, devilishly handsome tech billionaire. So much for humdrum. For a moment, Natalie couldn’t believe she’d offered for him to stay at the bed-and-breakfast. Under her roof. She took a deep breath, pushed him from her thoughts and tried to mirror the movement Margie, Miss Molly’s wiry dog trainer, was making.

  The sound of an SUV engine mingled with Lexie’s giggling at their golden retriever’s head tilting at Natalie’s command. Lifting her eyes to the road in front of her, she saw him.

  Max St. Cloud.

  Even from their limited interaction, she’d recognized his features. The door of the black SUV opened and he slid out. His booted feet thudded on the ground, causing dust to encircle him ever so slightly.

  Colby nudged her with his foot, causing her to stop gaping for a moment. Her son didn’t look at her and didn’t touch her outright, but instead kicked the ground with his sneaker, and fidgeted with the plaid shirt he wore.

  As if sensing his unease, Miss Molly bounded over to him, planting a wet kiss on his cheek. He smiled slightly, but lines of caution still colored his stance.

  Margie knelt beside the dog and Colby. Her sharp blue eyes looked up to meet Natalie’s. “New guest? The cyberdetective in from Seattle, right?”

  “Yep. That’s him,” she answered, taking in his slow, confident gait, the ease and appeal of his plain white T-shirt. Natalie’s stomach tumbled. With a deep breath, she smoothed her hair, tried to build the wall back up around her emotions.

  He was a boarder.

  A guest.

  Nothing more.

  And the butterflies in her stomach damn well needed to listen.

  But what could happen with her kids here?

  Nothing. Because they were her whole world.

  Her daughter, Alexa, bolted from her side, a flurry of kicked-up leaves trailing behind her. She stopped as Max clicked open the picket-fence gate, her little dress still filled with rippled motion. Lexie pulled on the sleeves of her light jean jacket and smiled at him.

  “Mister, wanna pet my dog?” Lexie’s spritely voice cooed. She pointed back to where Natalie, Margie and Colby stood together.

  Natalie rushed to her daughter, then smoothed back her outgoing child’s hair and tucked her close. “Lexie, Mr. St. Cloud has had a long day. He needs to go to his room.”

  “His room?” Lexie glanced up with wide eyes and long lashes. “For a time-out?”

  “No, sweetie, he isn’t being sent to time-out. He hasn’t misbehaved.” Although the gleam in his eyes indicated he was open to the option. “He is a guest and we need to be polite.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” She turned to Max. “You hungry? We got pastry, Mr. Cloud.”

  Natalie started to correct her daughter and he held up a hand.

  “It’s all right, Natalie.” He knelt in front of the toddler. “I like pastry. I hope you’ll save some for me for breakfast.”

  Margie crossed the lawn to join them and tugged one of Lexie’s curls lightly. “Show him to his room, Natalie. I’ll keep working with Miss Molly and watch these two.”

  “Thank you, Margie. That’s very generous of you.” A blush heated her cheeks. Margie continually went above and beyond what was required of her during these training sessions. When she wasn’t training dogs, Margie was part of a search-and-rescue team. A woman in her sixties, she had spent her whole life helping other people.

  Margie waved a hand, a tough hand with a scar she’d gotten from a dog bite long ago. “Go on. I’ve got this under control.”

  Natalie nodded, motioning for Max to follow her up the porch and into the B and B.

  “I’ll show you to your room, Mr. S—um, Max.” Her tongue had tripped as she remembered he insisted that she call him Max. The lack of his last name made her feel unsettled, put them on a more familiar setting, as if they were old friends or something. As if the boundaries between them were already dissolving...

  It was a dangerous thought, one she could not risk.

  “Your dog is quite friendly—your daughter, too.” The smile in his voice felt genuine as she opened the door to the B and B, the immediate scent of cinnamon filling the
air.

  She appreciated the homey scent, which grounded her. It was something to focus on aside from the strong male presence beside her.

  “I apologize if she talked your ear off.” Lord knew, Lexie could talk for hours without much effort.

  He paused in the threshold, eyes scanning the area, seeming to scrutinize and process what was before him. She followed his gaze, noting the quirks of this place that she had started to love. Like the wooden knob on the staircase that popped off occasionally. “This is a bed-and-breakfast. I expected the family-style approach.”

  He clicked the door behind him, making the space seem smaller just by being there.

  “I’m curious why you took me up on my offer. Surely you’re used to more upscale accommodations,” she said, moving through the hallway, her feet soft on the plush vermillion patterned carpet.

  “Did you want me to say no?” He cast a sidelong glance at her.

  She felt that curious stare even as she kept her eyes forward on where they were going. They passed the door to the bright white-and-yellow kitchen, the room she seemed to always be in. “I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t mean it.”

  They turned the corner and climbed up the second staircase in the house. The stair corridor was lit by sconces on the walls. The bath of golden light always made her think of some grand Regency-era novel. The Cimarron Rose was not the size of an estate, but this particular passage in the house always felt stately, like it belonged as a backdrop for some other time period.

  “Do you need the space for paying customers? I don’t want to take business away from you.” His offer echoed in the stairway, accompanied by his determined footfalls.

  They reached the landing and she moved away from him, a fierceness entering her voice. “I have another open room if someone needs to check in.”

  “I didn’t mean to sting your pride.” He sounded sincere. He paused again and looked at his surroundings, eyes fixating on a landscape portrait of a sunrise on the plains. Horses darted across the painting, free of all trappings of humanity. She’d bought that painting upon moving to Texas, feeling a kinship with the unbridled herd.