No strings. No tomorrow. Just here and now...

Luke ‘’Mac’’ MacKenzie has no past. Orphaned at twelve, he doesn’t remember his real name or why his parents were on the run. The name “Aileen Quinn” means nothing to him. Now Mac wanders through the country as a pilot, never settling down...until he finds something—or someone—who stops him in his tracks.

After all she’s been through, Emma Bryant just wants a fling—a hot man for a passionate night she’ll never forget. Preferably someone tall, dark and really, really hot. Like Mac. The problem is, there’s nothing casual about the heat between them...or the bond that threatens them with something neither thought they could have: a future.

Praise for Kate Hoffmann’s The Mighty Quinns

“[Kate] Hoffmann always brings a strong story to the table with The Mighty Quinns, and this is one of her best.”

—RT Book Reviews on The Mighty Quinns: Eli

“[Hoffmann’s] characters are well written and real. The Mighty Quinns: Eli is a recommended read for lovers of the Quinn family, lovers of the outdoors and lovers of a sensitive man.”

—Harlequin Junkie

“Hoffmann always does a great job creating different stories for the members of the Quinn clan.”

—RT Book Reviews on The Mighty Quinns: Rogan

“A winning combination of exciting adventure and romance... This is a sweet and sexy read that kept me entertained from start to finish.”

—Harlequin Junkie on The Mighty Quinns: Malcolm

“As usual, Hoffmann has written a light yet compelling tale with just enough angst and long-term background story to provide momentum for the next member of the Quinn family we are most certainly going to meet.”

—RT Book Reviews on The Mighty Quinns: Ryan

Dear Reader,

I’ve been writing for the Mills & Boon Blaze line for about as long as the imprint has been in existence. And the Mighty Quinns have been a part of my writing life for fifteen years and thirty-four stories!

In this final book of my “Black Sheep” series of the Mighty Quinns, I’ve taken on an unusual challenge—a virgin heroine and a hero with no past. Working with quirky characters can be a lot of fun and opens new doors when it comes to the romantic relationship.

I hope you enjoy Mac and Emma’s story as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Happy reading,

The Mighty Quinns: Mac

Kate Hoffmann

www.millsandboon.co.uk

KATE HOFFMANN celebrated her twentieth anniversary as a Mills & Boon author in August 2013. She has published over eighty books, novellas and short stories for Mills & Boon Temptation and Mills & Boon Blaze. She spent time as a music teacher, a retail assistant and an advertising exec before she settled into a career as a full-time writer. Her other interests include genealogy, musical theater and vegan cooking. She lives in southeastern Wisconsin with her two cats, Winnie and Gracie.

To Birgit Davis-Todd, who first suggested I write about the Quinns.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Praise

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Prologue

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

Epilogue

Extract

Copyright

Prologue

“WHAT’S YOUR NAME, SON?”

Lukas sat on the edge of the gurney, his gaze darting around the exam room. He was trapped by a pale green curtain on three sides, and he fought the impulse to run. It would only make him look more suspicious and he was unsure of what was waiting on the other side.

The police officer pulled up a stool and sat down, resting his hand on Luke’s knee. “Do you know where your parents are? They were with you ten days ago when you checked into the motel. What happened?”

Tears welled in the corners of his eyes. How long had it been? He’d lost count of the days since the fight. It had been a particularly violent argument between his mother and father, and, as usual, he’d locked himself in the bathroom, covering his ears against the bitter words they’d flung at each other.

But this fight had been different. The next morning, when he’d woken up, they were gone. He’d found himself alone, his meager belongings scattered around the motel room. He’d waited, certain they’d return for him. As the days passed and he’d been forced to search the trash cans for food, Luke realized that he was twelve years old and he was on his own.

“Do you have any relatives we can call?” the officer asked.

It had always been just the three of them, as long as he could remember. They’d moved around a lot, sometimes staying in motels for weeks on end, other times settling into a house or an apartment when his father found work. Luke would enroll in school and life would seem almost normal.

Then, something would happen and they’d be off again, slipping away in the dark of night, leaving behind anything that couldn’t fit in the car.

He couldn’t remember when life wasn’t like this, when his father wasn’t angry and abusive and when his mother wasn’t terrified. They were running from something—or someone—dangerous. Whoever or whatever it was, it was always just a few steps behind them.

“I—I’m not sure where they are,” Luke murmured.

He knew just one truth. They were gone and he was all alone in the world—all alone against some invisible threat that still stalked him. They’d left St. Louis two days ago, on the run again. He wasn’t even sure where they were now. Colorado? Utah? They’d been headed to Oregon, but that’s all he’d been told.

“Where do you live?”

“I can’t remember,” he insisted.

“Son, I don’t think—”

“I don’t know,” Luke said. “Can I leave now?”

“No, you can’t leave. We need to find a relative,” the officer said, “or you’re going to have to go into the foster care system. You don’t want to do that, do you?”

In truth, the option sounded good to him. He’d be safe, hidden among strangers. Luke wasn’t sure how long he’d be able to survive on his own. He had no money, nowhere to sleep, nothing to eat. “It’s okay,” he said. “You can send me there.”

“No relatives? No one who might want to take you in?”

Luke shook his head, then slipped off the edge of the gurney. “I’m hungry. Can I get something to eat?”

The officer stood up. “Let me see what I can find,” he murmured.

Luke circled the gurney and found a dark corner where he could think. Up until a few weeks ago, he’d been Lukas Parrish. But since leaving St. Louis he was Lukas MacKenzie. “M-A-C-capital-K-E-N-Z-I-E,” he murmured to himself. His father had made him spell it over and over again until it came naturally. There had been other names in other places. He had no idea which one to use. He knew that Parrish wasn’t his real last name, either. Before Parrish it had been Cartwright, and before that, Phillips. If he thought about it hard enough, he could come up with ten or fifteen different names. Since MacKenzie was the last name his father had told him to use, that was the name he’d given the police.

Pulling his knees up to his chest, he wrapped his arms over his head, wrapping his body into a tight ball. The tears stung his eyes and Luke finally surrendered to his fears. A string of curses burst from his lips and he felt a surge of anger toward his parents. How could they do this to him?

This was all his fault. He should have been brave and convinced his mother to leave his father. He should have kept her safe. They could have made a good life for themselves. But his father was a selfish, obsessive man. He hadn’t been happy unless he controlled every facet of his family’s lives. He’d always said it was for their safety, but Luke knew better. His father would never have let his mother go.

He saw a policewoman approach and he avoided her gaze, knowing there would be more questions.

“How are you doing, Luke?” she asked in a kind voice.

“Not so good,” Luke murmured. “Am I going to foster care soon?”

She pulled something out of her pocket and held it out to him. It was the little tin box of treasures that he kept with him. Luke wasn’t sure where the box had come from, but he’d always had it. No matter where they moved, his mother helped him find a proper hiding place for it, a spot that his father wouldn’t find. Luke wasn’t sure why it meant so much them. He assumed that the contents of the box must be important.

“Is this yours?” the officer asked.

Luke nodded and he took the box from her outstretched hand. “Can you find a photo of your mother in there?”

Luke sorted through it and held up a shot of the two of them together taken in a photo booth at a seaside amusement park. He’d been young, but he remembered that day—the warm sand and the salty sea breeze. The gulls that swooped down from the sky to finish the remains of Luke’s and his mother’s sandwiches.

“This is her?” the policewoman asked.

Luke nodded.

“Do you have a picture of your father?”

“He doesn’t like photos.”

She held out a small wallet-sized album. “What about these people? They look older. Are they your grandparents?”

He shook his head. “I’m not sure who they are.”

“And these wedding bands? And this watch? Who does this belong to?”

Luke shrugged. “They’ve always been in the box. I don’t know.”

The rest of the treasures were things he’d added—a seashell, a piece of pink quartz, an old Indian head nickel. Had his father known of the box, the contents would have been pawned long ago.

“We’re going to make a copy of this photo and see if we can track down your parents,” she said. “And if you remember anything else, you give me a call, all right?” She handed him a business card. “That’s my home number.”

“I don’t think they want me,” he said. Tears filled his eyes and spilled out onto his cheeks. Though he tried to stop them by sheer force of will, nothing he thought or did seemed to control his grief. She rubbed his back until he stopped crying, then handed him a wad of tissues.

“I can’t believe that’s true,” she said.

Maybe he was wrong. But until he was sure, he’d follow his father’s rules. The rules would keep him safe. His name was Luke MacKenzie. But his friends called him Mac.

1

“WHO ARE YOU? Where’s Buddy? I need to talk to Buddy. When will he be back?”

Luke MacKenzie grabbed a rag from the floor of the airplane hangar and wiped the grease from his hands. As he approached the counter, he studied the woman who had burst through the door just a few seconds before.

Her dark hair was windblown and the color was high on her cheeks. His gaze dropped to her lush lips and perfect white teeth. Her expression, though tense with anger, did nothing to diminish her natural beauty. In truth, he hadn’t met anyone quite so beautiful in a very long time.

Mac grinned lazily and walked up to the counter. “Which one of those questions would you like me to answer first?” he asked, leaning closer to her.

Her scowl deepened. “Where’s Buddy?”

“He’s in the hospital having his hip replaced.”

The news seemed to take her by surprise and he detected a slight blush creeping up her cheeks. “Oh,” she murmured. “He did tell me that. When is he going to be back?”

“About three weeks,” he said. “Maybe a month.”

“And who are you?”

“Luke MacKenzie,” he said. “They call me Mac.” He wiped his hand on his jeans and held it out. To his surprise, she took and shook it firmly. Mac held on for a few moments longer, enjoying the feel of her slender fingers resting in his palm.

“Mr. MacKenzie, I—”

“Just Mac,” he insisted, giving her hand another squeeze.

She straightened her spine and met his gaze, then slowly tugged her hand from his. “Well, Mr. Just Mac, let me give you the 411 because obviously Buddy didn’t fill you in before he left. The next time Charlie Clemmons shows up and wants you to haul that ridiculous Marry Me, Emma banner all over the sky, you’re supposed to tell him no!”

“And your name is...”

“Emma,” she murmured. “Emma Bryant.”

“Well, Marry-Me Emma, Buddy might be able to turn down two hundred dollars for an airborne marriage proposal, but I don’t have that luxury. As long as Charlie’s money is green, I’m gonna take the job.”

“But you don’t understand. This has become an obsession with Charlie. And I’m not going to marry him. Not now. Not ever. So he can waste all the money he wants but I’m not going to change my mind.”

“Maybe he’s in love,” Mac suggested.

“And maybe he’s completely insane,” she countered.

“Why don’t you want to marry him?”

“Haven’t you been listening? He’s insane. He just won’t let go. It’s not healthy.”

“Is there another reason you don’t want to marry him? Maybe there’s someone else?”

She gasped, then fixed him with a glare that could melt steel. “That is none of your business! And if I were you, I wouldn’t listen to town gossip.”

“There’s gossip? I’m afraid I’m out of the loop. I’ve got a few minutes. Why don’t you fill me in? Can I get you something cold to drink? I’ve got a Yoo-hoo back in the fridge.”

She looked at him as if he’d just asked her to strip naked and join him in a round of “The Hokey Pokey.” “I’m sure you think you’re charming, and I’m sure that charm works on a certain element of society, but it’s not going to work on me.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” he said.

“You didn’t ask me a question,” she said.

“Sure I did. I asked if there was someone else. A boyfriend or a fiancé? I could see how a stray marriage proposal might be problematic in that situation.”

She really was a beautiful woman, Mac mused. Her short dark hair curled gently around her pretty face, enhancing wide eyes and a lush mouth that had been made to be kissed. She also had thick lashes that ringed her brilliant green eyes—eyes that seemed to see right into his soul.

“Just don’t fly any more of his banners,” she warned. She spun on her heel and started for the door, but he called her name and she stopped and slowly faced him.

“You know, the fastest way to get rid of the old guy is to take up with a new guy.”

“You think I don’t know that? When you live in a small town like San Coronado, decent men are in short supply. Believe me, I’ve been looking.”

“Maybe you haven’t been looking hard enough,” Mac suggested.

She strode toward the door, but before she had a chance to pull it open, he spoke.

“You could go out with me,” Mac said. “I’m new in town, and I haven’t met many people. It would be nice to have someone show me around.” He’d issued the request more as an experiment than an actual invitation. And as an excuse to keep her in the shop just a little bit longer.

He found her quite fascinating, this stunningly beautiful girl who couldn’t seem to find a man. But now that he’d made the invitation, he wanted her to accept. “Let me get you that Yoo-hoo and we can talk over the particulars. Give me a chance to apologize for the whole banner problem.”

She stared at him for a long moment. “You’re asking me out? On a date?”

“Yes,” he said.

“We just met. And I don’t think I like you.”

“’Tis one thing to be tempted,” he murmured. “Another to fall.”

“Do you really believe a little Shakespeare is going to make me swoon for you?”

“Swoon? What does that mean?”

“Look it up,” she said.

“I left my dictionary in my other toolbox,” he teased. “Do you like Shakespeare?”

“He’s only the greatest writer who ever lived.”

“So where do you come down in the authorship issue? Are you a Stratfordian or an Oxfordian?” Clearly his question had taken her by surprise. He also noticed a bit of interest in her expression. “I just finished a new book on the subject.”

“The Weight of the Words?” Emma asked. “I loved that book.”

“We should get together and discuss it,” he said.

Emma opened her mouth, then frowned, shaking her head. “Just don’t do it again,” she warned. With that, she walked out of the hangar and into the bright sunshine of the October day.

“Do what again?” Mac shouted. “Ask you out on a date? Or fly that banner?”

He strolled over to the door and stared out, hoping to catch one last glimpse of her. But she’d already hopped in her car and started to race the battered Volvo station wagon down the airstrip road, a cloud of dust trailing behind it.

J. J. Jones, Buddy’s mechanic, strolled around the corner of the hangar wall and handed an old hydraulic pump to Mac. “Was that Emma Bryant?”

“Yeah,” Mac said.

“I told you not to fly that banner,” J.J. said.

“What do you know about her?” he asked.

“Know about her?” He grabbed the pump from Mac’s hand. “We went to school together. She’s the same age as I am. Twenty-seven. She’s the town librarian. Her dad died when she was young and her mom passed away about three years ago after a long illness. Emma was devoted to her. Cared for her at home for almost four years.”

“If she’s such a saint, why do people gossip about her?” he asked.

J.J. gave him an uneasy look. “What do you mean?”

“She asked if I’d heard the gossip around town about her. What gossip?”

“Listen, I don’t like tellin’ tales. My mama said if I keep my mouth shut and my hands clean I’d go far in life. I always follow my mama’s advice.”

“Come on. If it’s something everyone around town knows, why can’t you spill?” Mac prodded. “Is she crazy? Like bunny-boiler crazy?”

J.J. shook his head. “She’s real nice. She’s one of the nicest people I’ve ever met. Always very generous with her time. Everyone loves her. Everyone.”

“So she’s perfect?”

He nodded. “As close to perfect as you’re going to get,” J.J. said. “You won’t catch me saying anything bad about her.”

Mac sighed. “You think she’d go out with me?” he asked.

“I doubt you’d be her type,” J.J. said.

“She’s picky, then,” he said.

“She’s careful,” J.J. countered.

Mac frowned. What did that mean? Careful? She was a twenty-seven-year-old single woman. If she was looking for love, she’d have to take some risks to find it. “So she hangs out at the library?”

J.J. grabbed the pump. “I gotta get back to work. That pump on your plane is shot. We should probably replace both of them while we’re at it. Want me to order two?”

“No, just get me one,” Mac murmured. “And find me a decent price.”

“I will,” J.J. said.

Mac’s gaze was drawn back to the road where Emma Bryant had disappeared. This was a strange feeling, Mac mused. It wasn’t often that he found himself genuinely intrigued by a woman. His reactions to the female gender came in one of two varieties—she’s hot and I’d like to take her to bed...or, no, thank you. But this was something very different.

“Emma Bryant,” he murmured to himself as he walked back inside. Marry-Me Emma. If he took the proposal sign up again tomorrow morning, he could be assured that she’d stop by again and register her opinion.

* * *

“I THINK HE asked me out.” Emma paused, then shook her head. “Or maybe I just imagined it. Everything just happened so quickly. The conversation jumped around so much I could barely keep up. But I’m pretty sure there was an invitation in there.”

“What did you say?”

“I can’t remember.” Emma turned to her best friend, Trisha Kelling, and shrugged. “I wish I could rewind the whole thing and listen to it again.”

“Wait,” Trisha said. “Pull over.”

“What?”

“Just pull over. We need your full concentration.”

Emma did as she was instructed, steering the station wagon to the edge of the dusty road. She threw it into Park and faced her friend, taking a deep breath.

“What did he look like?” Trish asked.

“Cute. No, handsome. Really sexy. Dark hair, pale blue eyes. You know like blue denim that has been faded by the sun.”

“Oh, God, I love that kind of blue,” Trisha said. “What else?”

“Straight nose. Not too big. Just right. Nice teeth. And a really nice body, at least, what I was able to see of it.”

“What about the goods?” she said. “Did you check that out?”

“No! Why would I check out his...crotch?”

“All right. Was he charming or just kind of full of himself?”

“A little bit of both. But I think he might have been teasing me. He was clever. He seemed really smart. He quoted Shakespeare at me.”

“Really? What did he say?”

Trish was an English teacher at the high school and knew her Shakespeare. Emma searched her memory for the phrase, but she couldn’t recall the exact words—a sign that Luke MacKenzie had really flustered her. “Something about being tempted and then falling.”

“’Tis one thing to be tempted? Another thing to fall?”

“Yes! That’s it. As You Like It?”

“I should remember where it comes from and don’t you dare tell anyone that I don’t.” Trish pulled out her phone and punched in the quote. “Measure For Measure. What do you think he meant?”

“I’m not sure.” Emma rubbed her face with her hands. “After that he started talking about the authorship controversy, the Oxfordians versus the Stratfordians. It was as if he knew I was fascinated with the subject and he was tempting me.”

“’Tis one thing to be tempted...” Trisha said.

Emma smiled. “This could be it. He could be the one. It makes sense, doesn’t it?”

“He’s handsome and sexy. He appears to have a brain. And an abundance of charm.”

“And he’s only going to be in town for a short time. Six weeks at the most. That’s perfect,” Emma said. “I can’t believe I’m finally going to rid myself of this awful virginity. I’ll have sex with this man and it will finally be done.”

Emma drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. She’d never intended to remain a virgin for this long. It had just happened. Each year had passed without a potential lover in sight and before she knew it, she’d ended up here, more than halfway to thirty and still as chaste as a nun.

“I shouldn’t have walked out,” Emma said. “I should have flirted with him.”

“You could always go back,” Trish suggested.

“Under what pretense?”

“An apology for being such a bitch?”

“I was a bitch. I just couldn’t believe he was serious. A guy like that...and me. Marian the Librarian.”

“You could take him a book!” Trisha said. “You know he reads Shakespeare. If he likes Whitman, then he’s the ultimate sex machine.”

“Whitman? No, that would seem so...obvious. And a little desperate.”

“But you are desperate,” Trish said. “Maybe it would be best to just admit that right at the top. There is something sexy about a woman desperate to copulate.”

“Copulate?”

“My mother always taught me to use the proper terms for sex.”

“Alice Pettit told me to keep my knees together and my feet on the floor,” Emma said. “Marliss Franks warned me that naughty girls burn in hell and Reverend Kopitsky said that my body is sacred and my virtue worth more than gold. It really didn’t matter, though. Once I got that stupid brace, the boys stayed away.”

Her teenage years had been lonely at best. She’d been diagnosed with scoliosis at age thirteen and had worn a back brace through most of high school. Burdened also with massive orthodontia and a bad case of acne, she hadn’t been the most attractive option for a prom date. Just months after the brace came off, her mother had been diagnosed with cancer and Emma’s attention had turned to nursing her. There’d never been time to date, and without dating—and living in a small town—sex had become an unreachable goal. Now, after all these years of chastity, she felt vulnerable, unprepared for a relationship. She had no idea how to talk to boys or flirt. She still felt like the girl with the back brace and the pimples.

She’d always taken solace in her studies, graduating at the top of her high school class. After high school came college and grad school. She’d lived at home, for both convenience and cost, and so she could watch over her mother’s care.

Four years ago, she’d finished her masters in information sciences and been offered the head librarian’s job at the small library in town. Though she’d always dreamed about leaving town and starting life somewhere new, Emma stayed to see her mother though the last stages of her illness.

The people of San Coronado had always stood behind her and her mother, Elaine. Elaine had been a beloved kindergarten teacher at the local school and everyone had known her. During her illness, there’d been lots of volunteers who’d arranged fund-raisers—spaghetti dinners and bake sales and benefit concerts—all to help with her mother’s medical costs. A prayer circle had spent two hours a week praying for her recovery. How could Emma refuse the job and a chance to return something to the community that had given her mother so much love and attention?

So she’d thrown herself into her work, completely updating the library’s catalog system, rearranging the floor plan and adding new programs for children and seniors. And though her mother had urged her to get out and socialize, it was easier to just work into the late hours and then flop into bed when she got home.

She’d had dreams once. She and her mother had always talked about traveling together, taking the summer to see exotic places. They’d pored over travel books and planned itineraries, keeping their notes in leather-bound journals.

New Zealand, Indonesia, Portugal, Finland, Costa Rica. Lists of things to see and do, places to eat. Even during the worst of her mother’s illness, they’d kept at it, as if the work held some magic cure.

And once it was clear there would be no cure, her mother made her promise that she’d find a way to go on her own. She’d save her money and buy a ticket to one of the places that had fascinated them both.

As for her lack of social life, that had really been her own fault. After her mother’s death, she’d given herself the chance to grieve. It had been easy to shut herself in the house and avoid people. The more time that passed, the more overwhelming getting back out there became. She pushed aside thoughts of a social life to focus entirely on a rigorous work schedule. But now, she felt as if the world had passed her by.

There were a few available men left in town and at least one of them was interested. But trying to start a relationship underneath a microscope was daunting. Everyone seemed a bit too invested in her happily-ever-after.

“I know how difficult it’s been on you,” Trish said.

“I’m not complaining,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m a lucky woman. I have a wonderful job and a wonderful best friend. I don’t need anything else.”

“Yes, you do!” Trish cried. “You need to feed your soul and your heart. You need passion in your life. And a few really good orgasms. I think this Mac guy is the answer to all your problems.”

“Let’s say I do decide that I want to pursue something...carnal with Mac,” Emma said. “I have to be ready to do it. I mean, it could happen quickly, right? Sometimes, the passion is so overwhelming you just can’t help yourself.”

“Sometimes,” Trisha agreed.

“So, I should buy some sexy underwear and do the whole wax thing. And a mani and a pedi. I’ll get my hair cut, too, so I don’t look like a demented bear the morning after. Oh, and I have to be ready to provide breakfast if he stays the night. I’ll have to plan a menu. And I probably should brush up on...you know...sex.”

“How are you going to do that?”

“We have a whole section of books in the library in our self-help section. They’re quite informative. I expect he’s going to be good at it, so I’d like to return the favor.”

“There is a possibility that you might be overanalyzing this,” Trish said. “I’ll be honest with you, once you start taking off your clothes, there’s not a lot of time to think.”

“Great advice,” Emma murmured. She reached out and restarted the car, then pulled it back out onto the road. She gripped the wheel with white-knuckled fingers, her mind spinning with the possibility that her long ordeal might be over soon.

There were some women who chose to be virgins until they married. But Emma knew she’d never marry. And sex was something that she wanted to experience, a simple human need that had to be satisfied.

“There is another option,” Trisha said. “I was reading an article a couple weeks ago about a brothel in Nevada that had men on the menu. You could always pay for it. For the right price, I bet Joey would consider it.”

“You’re offering up your husband?” Emma asked.

“Not to you,” Trish said. “Besides, you’re looking for a perfect male specimen, not a guy with a furry chest and the body of a teddy bear.” She shrugged. “What can I say? I find the man incredibly sexy. And he’s always been so enthusiastic in the sack. And he’s got the goods.”

“Thank you for your generous offer, but I’m going to have to refuse. But I will buy you lunch.”

As they drove toward town, past pastures and vast irrigated fields, the windows of the car open to the afternoon breeze, Emma felt happy, as if the future had suddenly opened up in front of her. There weren’t many days when she didn’t think about the lack of passion and adventure in her life. But today, she was different. There was an excitement that burned inside her...a delicious anticipation that her life was about to change.

* * *

MAC STARED UP at the facade of the San Coronado Public Library. A bronze plaque beside the door designated the neoclassical building as an Andrew Carnegie library, one of over a thousand built by the wealthy industrialist in the early part of the twentieth century in small towns all over the US.

Though he’d been asking J.J. about Emma since he’d met her the day before yesterday, the most he’d been able to pull out of the other man was that she was the town librarian and that everyone loved her. He didn’t really need much more. She’d most likely be inside and when she saw him, they’d talk.

He smoothed his hand through his hair, then took the steps two at a time. As he opened the front door, two younger boys slipped inside before him and he noticed a crowd gathered in the lobby. Mac had expected a quiet interior where people spoke in hushed tones. But instead, the place was bustling with noise and activity.

Scattered about was a display of model cars and trucks, made from the kits he’d enjoyed as a kid. Mac smiled as he wandered around the room, remembering the times he’d spent meticulously piecing each model together, then painting it. It was one of the after-school activities at the local Boys and Girls Club. After the disappearance of his parents, he’d been put into the foster care program and had spent most afternoons at the club, finishing his homework and working on models with a few friends.

The models had kept him off the streets and out of the gangs. And when he finished one, he’d gather up the money he made on his paper route and buy another. They’d been stacked from floor to ceiling in their boxes, tucked inside his closet.

On the day he’d turned eighteen, he’d packed his bags and walked away from foster care, leaving the cars and the memories of his boyhood behind. In a single day, he’d become a man, wholly responsible for his own life. He could no longer busy himself with childish things.

He’d found a job, a cheap room at a local boardinghouse and had begun his life, scraping together money for flying lessons and a few classes on engine repair. He taught himself to weld and though he couldn’t afford college, he’d gotten a library card and begun to educate himself.

“It’s a ’57 Chevy! Not a ’56. See?”

He glanced down at a young boy who was pointing at a model. “You’re right. You can tell by the trim. But I prefer the ’56. There’s just something about it. The softer fin or the trim piece that curves down.”

The little boy smiled. “I prefer it, too.”

“We both have excellent taste.” Mac winked at him, then moved on through the crowd to the circulation desk. He scanned the counter for Emma’s pretty face, but didn’t find her. He decided to get a library card first and make a casual inquiry about Emma at the same time.

“I’d like to get a library card,” he said to the woman at the front desk.

“Do you have identification?”

“I do, but it doesn’t have my local address on it.”

“Do you have a utility bill or something to prove you’re a resident of San Coronado?”

“I don’t,” he said.

“Anyone who could vouch for you?”

“Yes. Emma Bryant could. I understand she works here.”

The woman smiled. “She does.”

“Is she working today?”

“Yes, she’s downstairs in our archives cataloguing some items that were bequeathed to the library last week.”

Mac took the form. “I’ll just go get her signature and be right back.”

“Down the hall and through the door on the right, then down the stairs,” the librarian said.

As he followed the directions, Mac felt an odd rush of anticipation. Women had always been a commodity in his life. Though he appreciated each for their individual attributes, Mac found it difficult to make any long-lasting connections.

When the time was right, he made sure he was the one who walked away first. There had been a few women who had been difficult to leave, but he could never truly believe they had any kind of future together. Without trust, any deeper emotions were impossible.

He already knew ending things with Emma would be painful. He was already obsessed with her. She was unique, intriguing, wildly sexy and smart—a deadly combination. It would take a careful approach to charm her, a disciplined plan to hold her and every ounce of his determination to leave her.

The basement of the library was dark and musty and he followed the sound of music through the rows of shelves and storage cabinets. Finally, he reached a central area of tables illuminated by florescent lights. Mac stood in the shadows and observed her for a moment, taking in the scene in greater detail.

An old gramophone sat on one end of the table and it played a classical piece that sounded like a Mozart string quartet. Emma was seated with her back to him, her legs tucked up beneath her, her attention fixed on a paper she was reading.

The dark waves of her hair fell around her face and his fingers twitched as he imagined how it would feel to smooth a curl from her temple and tuck it behind her ear. He’d touched her once, when he’d held her hand, but it hadn’t been enough.

He’d known a lot of women whom he’d considered beautiful, Mac mused. But now, he realized that they hadn’t really been beautiful at all. They’d made themselves up to reflect what society considered beautiful—blond hair, full lips, high cheekbones, striking eyes.

As he looked at Emma, he saw something simpler, much more pure. There was no need for paint or artifice. It was all there in its natural form. A shiver skittered through his body and his breath caught in his throat.

Emma jumped, then turned around in her chair to find him watching her. She scrambled to her feet, dropping the letter on the table and struggling with the chair. “Wha-what are you doing here?”

“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” Mac said.

“You did! Why are you here?”

He held up the application for a library card. “I need you to sign this. I wanted to get a card but I don’t have the proper identification with me. If you vouch for me, they’ll give me one.”

“But I don’t know you.”

He grinned. “Sure you do. I’m the guy who’s working for Buddy while he recovers from his surgery.”

“And that’s all I know. That’s not enough to get you a library card. Where do you live?”

“Right now, I’m staying out at the hangar. But I’ve been trying to find a place in town.” That wasn’t exactly the truth, but it sounded good. He had a cot, a bathroom and a makeshift kitchen at the hangar. It was rent-free and enough to meet his needs.

“But where do you come from? Where do you live when you’re not here?”

Mac wished that he had a better story to tell her, but he’d accepted the reality of his life long ago. “The last time I had a permanent address was the day before my eighteenth birthday. That was nearly ten years ago. I suppose I could give you that address.”

“Where was that?”

“Boulder, Colorado. It’s where my foster parents live. At least it was. I haven’t talked to them since I left, so they might have moved.”

She gave him a grudging smile, then held out her hand. Emma grabbed the paper and signed the bottom. “Raise your hand and repeat after me.”

Mac did as he was told.

“I, Luke MacKenzie, promise to treat my library books with care, read them promptly and return them before the due date, so help me God.”

Chuckling, Mac repeated the promise and when he was finished, she handed him the paper. “Thanks,” he said.

“Is there anything I can help you find? What do you like to read? Besides Shakespeare.”

“I’ve been reading the biographies of the great explorers—Columbus, Marco Polo, Amundsen.”

“That sounds interesting.”

“What do you like to read?”

She took a moment to formulate an answer. “My favorite is true-life adventure. Climbing Everest and surviving in a life raft for seventy days. Books about people with daring and courage.”

“And do you have daring and courage?” he asked.

“No,” Emma said. “Quite the opposite. That’s why I find those books so fascinating.”

“Note to self,” he murmured. “Add more adventure to Marry-Me Emma’s life.”

She giggled softly and her cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink. “There’s a new biography of David Livingstone. If you haven’t read it, you should. I thought it was excellent.”

“Good. I’ll read it. And maybe we could get together and have coffee and talk about it.”

“Are you asking me on a date?”

Mac had never needed to clarify his intent when it came to women, but he wasn’t quite sure if coffee and a book discussion qualified as a date. “Would you consider that a date?” he asked.

Emma thought about her answer for a long moment. “Probably not.”

“What would I have to add to make it a real date?” Mac asked.

“Maybe dinner? Definitely dinner. And a movie? But we don’t have a theater in town, so dinner would be enough.”

She blushed more deeply and Mac could see that the question had flustered her. “Emma, would you like to go out to dinner with me?”

She drew in a sharp breath, then nodded her head. “Yes. Yes, that would be lovely. When?”

“Soon? But I’m probably going to need three or four days to finish the book.”

“Or I could recommend a shorter book,” she said.

“How about Saturday?”

“The Livingstone bio is about four hundred and fifty pages long, including the notes and index.”

“I’m a fast reader,” Mac assured her.

“It’s a date, then. Saturday night.”

Mac wanted to stay longer, to find an excuse to grab her hand or steal a kiss. But he had officially secured a date with Emma and, considering her unpredictable nature, he thought it best to leave while he was ahead. “I’m going to go now, before I find a way to screw this up. I’ll see you Saturday night.”

“Where?” she asked.

“Great question. Any thoughts?”

“I’ll pick you up at the hangar and we’ll decide then.”

She smiled and Mac felt his blood warm a few degrees. “Good idea.”

“Enjoy the book, Mac,” she murmured.

“See you Saturday, Emma,” he said.

As he walked back upstairs to the circulation desk, Mac smiled to himself. He’d managed to play that perfectly, yet he hadn’t a clue how it had all happened. When he’d set out to find her, he hadn’t been sure she’d agree to a date.

With the exception of their love of books, they had absolutely nothing in common. She was a homebody, content in a small town, living a small life. Her only adventures came from books. She’d put down roots and was a respected member of the community. Emma had history that included friends and family.

Mac had no roots, no family, no past. He’d spent his adult life drifting from place to place, taking work when he needed it. Everything he owned fit into his plane. His freedom was all he’d ever required in life. He had nothing to offer a woman like Emma.

So why was he so determined to charm her, Mac wondered. Did he see her as a challenge? Or did he want to experience just a tiny bit of the life he’d never had? Or was she just so amazing that he couldn’t help himself?

“It’s just a date. You’re not climbing Everest.”

It was only dinner, and yet somehow Mac felt that it was the start of so much more.

2

THE NORMALLY QUIET library came alive after school when students strolled through the front door and took their customary spots at the reading tables. The students who wanted to study usually chose to stay at the school library. But Emma had a loyal group of outsiders, kids who either weren’t comfortable at school or had been kicked out of the school library for bad behavior. The former she welcomed, the latter, she considered a challenge to be won over.

“Where are the books about T. rex?”

Emma smiled at Joey Hammersmith. “See that big green dino over there? Right underneath him.”

“Thanks!”

Joey ran off and her gaze fell on a young girl who’d been part of the after-school crowd for the past few months. She appeared to be about eleven or twelve and always sat at the same table, in the same chair. Emma caught her eye and smiled, but the girl quickly looked back down at her books.

“What time is your date tomorrow night?”

Trisha leaned over the counter and pulled out the lollipop container, grabbing a root beer-flavored sucker for herself. She held out the container to Emma. “Join me?”

“I’m on a diet,” Emma said. “I bought a new dress for the date and I—”

“Oh, is it a dress kind of date?” Trisha inquired. “I just assumed it would be a jeans date.”

Emma frowned. “Why would you think that?”

“I don’t know. Just from the way you described him. He seemed more like a casual kind of guy.”

“He didn’t really specify,” Emma said. “Crap, now I’m going to have to go buy a new pair of jeans. And stop eating completely for the next twenty-four hours.”

“Why don’t you just call him and ask?”

The idea of phoning him caused a flood of nerves. There was something about Luke MacKenzie that turned her into a stammering schoolgirl. And now that she’d decided he was going to be “the one,” she couldn’t think about him without picturing the guy naked and lying in her bed.

“Maybe I should just go with a casual skirt and sweater,” Emma decided. “It will be appropriate for either kind of date. And I won’t have to diet at all.” She grabbed the lollipop container and fished out a raspberry pop. “Did you stop by just to make me nervous?”

“Of course not,” Trisha said. She studied her shrewdly. “So do you think you’re going to do it tonight?”

Emma groaned. “I don’t believe he’s a sleep-with-a-woman-on-the-first-date kind of guy. He seems very passionate, but he might also be a closet gentleman.”

“Just be careful, Em.”

“I bought condoms.”

“That’s not the kind of careful I was talking about. This is a small town full of gossips, and you know how people feel about you. If you start romping about with some stranger, people are going to talk. Especially those ladies on the library board.”

“Don’t worry about me. Besides, it’s not as if we’re going to have a relationship or anything,” Emma said. “Can I do anything for you?”

“I need Keats. Every book of his poetry that you have on the shelf.”

“You know where that section is,” she said. Trisha was about to leave when Emma called her name and motioned her closer. “See that girl over there? With the blond hair and the red sweater?”

Trisha glanced in the direction of Emma’s gaze and nodded. “Lily. Lily Harper. She’s a foster child with Dave and Denise Prentiss. I’ve heard they’re planning to adopt her.”

“She’s here every day after school. And she always sits alone. Doesn’t she have any friends?”

Trisha shook her head. “I don’t think so. She’s bounced around a lot from what I’ve heard.”

“What happened to her parents?”

“I’m not sure. She’s not from around here, and she doesn’t talk about herself.”

“She seems so sad. And she never checks anything out. She pulls books from the shelves and reads them here, but never takes anything home.”

Emma felt a sort of kinship with the little girl. She understood how it felt to be an outsider. After the brace and the acne, her friends had started to distance themselves from her and she’d been alone. Books had become her best friends and she’d lived through the characters she loved. They had wonderful friends who shared amazing adventures.

“Are we still going to the flea market tomorrow?” Trisha asked.

“Why wouldn’t we?”

“I thought you might want the time at home before your big date.”

“I’d just spend the time obsessing over it. I need distractions.”

“Then I’ll pick you up at nine,” she said. “But right now I have to go find my books and then I’m going to pick up a very large pizza for dinner. When are you done with work? Do you want to join us?”

“I close tonight. But let’s stop for breakfast on the way to the flea market. At that pancake place.”

“So much for the diet.”

“I’m wearing a skirt, remember. I think I’ll be safe.”

While Trisha went upstairs to find her books, Emma walked over to the young adult section and found one of her favorite books. She slowly approached Lily, then slid the book across the table. “Have you read this series?” she asked.

Lily stared at the book, then shook her head. “I-Is it good?”

She risked a look up and Emma nodded. “It was one of my favorites when I was your age. And you can take it home to read. I can get you a library card.”

The girl shook her head. “I’ll read it here,” she murmured.

“All right. But I’d still like to give you a library card. It’s free. Then, if you decide you want to take something home you can.”

Lily shrugged. “Okay. Thanks.”

“I’ll have it waiting at the desk. You can pick it up before you leave.”

“Do you know my name?”

“It’s Lily Harper. You live with the Prentiss family.”

Lily nodded again, her gaze falling to the book that Emma had offered her. “Yeah,” she murmured. “1810 Birch Street.”

“If you’d like me to find more books for you, just tell me what you enjoy reading and I can make some suggestions.”

“Okay,” she said.

“I’m usually here after school. But if I’m not, you can leave me a note.”

She was filling out the forms for Lily’s library card when a bouquet of flowers appeared in front of her computer screen. Emma turned to find Mac grinning at her. “Hello,” she said.

“Hi.”

Emma took the bouquet. “What are you doing here?”

“I just thought I’d stop in and firm up our plans for tomorrow night. Get some suggestions on where you might want to go for dinner. And see if you have any opinions on Oklahoma.”

“Oklahoma? I’ve never been there, but I suppose it’s a nice place to live if you like...farming?”

“No, Oklahoma the musical. The local community theater is doing the play and I thought I’d get us tickets.”

Emma giggled. “You enjoy musical theater?”

“Well, there’s no movie theater in town, so this would be the next best choice. It could be really good.”

“It could also be really bad,” Emma said.

“I bet it will be fun, you’ll see.”

She wasn’t sure “fun” was what she wanted for their date. She wanted something romantic, something that would put them both in the mood for seduction. She was hoping the night would end in a tangle of sheets and sweaty bodies and she wasn’t sure that an amateur production of Oklahoma would lead them there.

“Buddy’s mechanic, J.J., has got a pretty big role,” Mac added. “He’s got a decent singing voice.”

“He used to be in all the shows in high school,” Emma said.

“Right. I forgot you knew each other.”

“Everyone knows everyone else in this town. If you have any deep, dark secrets, you better spill them now because sooner or later, they’ll be found out.”

Mac braced his elbows on the counter and leaned closer. “There is one thing,” he murmured, his eyes dark, his voice mysterious. “But I can’t really tell you here. Is there somewhere we could go? Someplace more private?”

Emma held her breath. What kind of secret was he about to reveal? Was he running from the law? Was he married? Had he nefarious motives for asking her out? “My office,” she said breathlessly.

He followed behind her to the door near the end of the circulation desk. The moment the door closed behind them, Mac wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her body against his. His lips came down on hers and, before she could protest, Emma was caught in a deep and passionate kiss.

His hands skimmed along her rib cage and then, just a moment later, were tangled in her hair. Emma’s knees went weak and she stumbled, bracing herself against a bookcase. When he finally drew back, she took a ragged breath and tried to regain her composure. “What was that?” she murmured.

“If you don’t know, then I wasn’t doing it right.”

She laughed softly. “Oh, no, you did it right.”

“Good. Because I’ve been thinking about kissing you since the last time we were together. And thinking isn’t as nice as actually doing it.”

A shiver skittered through her body and she nodded, knowing his words were truer that even he realized. “I—I should get back out there. If you leave the kids alone for too long they’ll find some way to get into trouble.”

“All right,” he said, twisting his fingers through hers. He pulled her hand up to his lips and pressed a kiss below her wrist. “I’ll see you tomorrow night. Oh, and I’ll pick you up at your place. Buddy lets me use his truck and I got it all cleaned up.”

“Do you know where I live?”

“I’ll ask around,” Mac said. “I’m sure someone will be happy to tell me.”

They walked out of the office and he waved as he walked toward the front entrance. Emma took another shaky breath. Oh, they’d tell him. But what else would they say? she wondered. Would he find out she was a virgin? And if he did, was he hoping to change her sexual status in the near future?

Emma groaned inwardly. This was exactly what she’d been waiting for all these years. Now was not the time to chicken out. If she expected to lure him into bed, she’d need to be confident, or he’d never believe she was a willing partner.

She closed her eyes and cursed beneath her breath. This was like any fear of the unknown. When it was over, it would seem easy in retrospect. She’d laugh at her fears, just as the adventurers in her books did.

“Do you have my card?”

Emma dragged her eyes away from the computer screen and found Lily Harper waiting, her backpack strap slung over one shoulder. “Do you have any books you’d like to take home?”

The girl shook her head, then placed the young adult novel that Emma had given her onto the counter. “Thank you.”

“You don’t want to take this home?”

“I’ll read it here,” she said.

“Is there anything else I can help you with?”

She opened her mouth, then quickly snapped it shut. Emma held out the library card and Lily snatched it from her fingers and hurried out of the library. Emma drew a deep breath and sighed. Childhood was such a complicated time for some kids. She couldn’t help but empathize with Lily Harper, so scared and vulnerable. At times like this, Emma wished she had more than books to offer.

She picked up the bouquet that Mac had brought her and drew in the scent of the flowers. All the troubles of her own adolescence had made her into the woman she was today. But her lack of sexual experience kept her anchored to that vulnerable girl. She couldn’t truly feel like an adult until she’d left that part of her behind. And she was determined that Mac would be the one to help her do that.

* * *

MAC SORTED THROUGH the stack of scribbled notes, then stared at the computer screen. He was supposed to enter his crop-dusting jobs into the accounting program so invoices could be generated, but Buddy’s program was ancient and nothing seemed to work properly.

The screen door creaked and he looked up to see Charlie Clemmons standing in the late morning sun, a large plastic bag tucked under his arm. Mac straightened, shoving the bookkeeping aside. “Hi,” he said. “What can I do for you?”

Charlie approached the counter, reaching to pull his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans. He cleared his throat nervously. “I want to hire you again to fly another banner for me.”

Mac shook his head, holding out his hands. “Listen, Charlie, I get how you feel—”

“This is different,” Charlie insisted. “I bought a new banner. I want you to take it up this morning. She and Trisha always meet for coffee on Saturdays so she’ll be sure to see it.”

“Emma Bryant came in here after the last banner,” Mac said. “She was pretty angry. I don’t think a new banner is going to make her happy.”

“This one will make her very happy,” Charlie said. “I’ve decided that I was moving too fast. I have to slow down and court her. A girl like Emma doesn’t want a pushy guy. A girl like Emma needs time to fall in love.”

“A girl like Emma?” Mac asked.

Charlie shifted uneasily. “Yeah...you know.”

“I do?”

“Yeah. ’Cause she’s a virgin.” He paused. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that. In fact, to be honest, I’m lacking in that department, too. That’s why we’d be an excellent match. There wouldn’t be any...expectations.”

Mac groaned inwardly. This was too much information! Was this the gossip that Emma had referred to? Mac let the information sink in. Though it didn’t change his desire for her, it certainly changed his attitude about seducing her at the next available opportunity. One didn’t just ravish a virgin without a care for her limited experience. Being a woman’s first lover was a tremendous responsibility—the kind of responsibility he wasn’t sure he was ready to accept.

“So what will it take?” Charlie asked.

Mac blinked and met his gaze. “What?”

“What will it take to get you to fly my banner? I paid you two hundred dollars for the last flight. I assume this one will cost the same?”

“Are you sure you want to waste—I mean, spend—your money on this? I’ve talked to Emma and she really isn’t impressed. Maybe you ought to turn your attention to another woman. Someone more...obliging.”

“What does that mean?”

“A girl who might welcome your affections?”

“But the book said that I should be persistent and not give up. No matter what.” Charlie pulled a dog-earred paperback out of his jacket pocket and dropped it on the counter.

“How to Catch a Mate in Ten Easy Lessons,” Mac read out loud. “Which lesson are you on?”

“I can’t seem to get past number three,” Charlie said with a dejected sigh.

“Maybe you should start over...with a different woman. A guy has to know when to cut his losses and move on.” Mac couldn’t help but feel a little guilty for his suggestion. After all, he did have ulterior motives. But it wasn’t just because he’d been suddenly captivated by Emma Bryant and wanted her for himself. He also wanted to save her the irritation and embarrassment of dealing with another of Charlie’s banners.

Charlie set the banner on the counter. “You’re probably right. You might as well toss that,” he said.

Mac nodded. “Good call. You’ll see. You’ll find someone who’ll appreciate your romantic gestures. There are a lot of fish in the sea.”

“Where? What sea have you been looking in? There are only so many women in this town who’d consider dating a guy like me and I’ve run through them all.”

“Maybe you ought to aim higher,” Mac suggested. “Shoot for a girl who’s out of your league.”

“The book doesn’t help with that,” Charlie said. “I wouldn’t know what to do.”

Mac paused. If he really wanted a clear road ahead with Emma, then he had to be willing to help Charlie out. It wasn’t as if business was booming for Buddy’s Flying Services. And he did have knowledge he could impart. “How about if I help you out?” Mac offered.

“You’d do that?” Charlie asked. “Why?”

“Because I don’t want to see you make a fool out of yourself. We’ll hang out. The 49ers are playing on Monday night. Is there a sports bar around here?”

“There’s Shooters just east of town.”

“All right. I’ll meet you there on Monday night. We’ll have a few beers, talk to a few women and see where it goes.”

“You’ll be my wingman,” Charlie said, grinning. “That’s been my problem all along. No wingman.”

Charlie left the banner sitting on the counter. It was still there when J.J. came in through the shop door. He stopped and stared at it, then winced, shaking his head. “Charlie again?”

“I talked him out of it,” Mac explained.

J.J. seemed surprised. “That guy is like a terrier with a bone. He once decided that he was going to get on that show Gladiator Games. He trained for three years. By the time he was ready, the show had been canceled. Charlie has the worst luck. That’s why people avoid him. They’re afraid it might rub off on them.”

“I’m just going to distract the guy for a while. Give him some good advice and maybe find him a different girl.”

J.J. gave Mac a dubious look. “You’re fixin’ to steal his girl away.”

“Emma is not his girl.”

“That’s not what most people in town believe. Most folks around here are all for the match.”

“You didn’t mention that she was a virgin,” Mac said.

J.J. shook his head. “Why should that make a difference to you?”

“It doesn’t,” Mac said. “It’s just something most guys would want to know.” He cursed beneath his breath. This was suddenly getting far too complicated. Too many people had a stake in his relationship with Emma. Mac had always preferred to keep his social and sexual life simple. It made for easier exits. And he’d be the first person to admit that he never wanted to stick around for long.

He was all too familiar with the consequences. There would be questions—about his parents, his family, his background. Where was he born? What were his parents’ names? What about grandparents? So many questions that he didn’t have answers for.

For any other man, that might have made a difference. But for Luke MacKenzie—or whatever his name really was—he’d put those questions aside. He’d determined at a young age to let the past go, to focus purely on the present.

Hell, it made for a much happier life. The past was all about mistakes and regrets, lost opportunities and broken promises. And the future? Well, that was about goals and dreams and aspirations. All those things just out of a guy’s reach.

It was, and always would be about the present for Mac. He knew all too well that life could change in a split second. Dreams could be shattered and the future turned upside down. His mind flashed an image of that night, of the empty motel room and the police cars outside. So many questions and never any answers.

So he lived for pleasure and adventure, excitement and spontaneity. He never knew what the new day would bring, but Mac was always determined to make the best of it.

“Any idea how to work this computer?” Mac asked, turning to J.J.

“Yeah,” the mechanic said. “What’s the problem?”

“I have to enter these time slips and fuel receipts to generate an invoice and I can’t figure out what I’m doing wrong.”

J.J. grabbed the stack of notes. “It would take me longer to explain than it would to do the invoices,” he said. “I can take care of it.”

“Are you sure?”

“No problem,” J.J. said.

“Can you keep an eye on the front desk? I have something I need to do.”

“I have to leave in an hour. We have some final work on the set before the show tonight. You still planning on coming?”

“Yeah, absolutely,” Mac said. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” J.J. joked. “I’m not that good.”

Mac chuckled and clapped J.J. on the back. “Don’t sell yourself short.”

Mac walked out into the hangar and pulled open the passenger door of his plane. It was the closest thing he had to a home. Mac crawled through to the tail, rummaging around until he found what he was looking for. He took the small tin box out and sat down on a crate, pulling off the lid in the light of day.

The rusty tin held all that was left of his old life—his only clues to his past. He picked up the larger of the two wedding bands and stared down at it, then slipped it on his finger. Marriage had never been a part of his future. Until he had a past, he couldn’t have a future. But how did one go about finding ghosts? The police had tried and failed.

Did he even want to find them? Wouldn’t it simply be easier to know nothing? And why did it make a difference now?

Mac closed his eyes. Emma. For some reason, she made him think about the future, made him question his past.

But why? He’d met her only a few days ago. There had to be a reason for this unreasonable attraction. Some quality that had captured his attention. It wasn’t her virginity. Had he been aware of that, he would have run in the opposite direction. Charlie was right—there were too many expectations.

And yet, the news hadn’t changed his interest in her. Emma was smart and beautiful and vulnerable and strong. She was the kind of woman who needed a partner to help her navigate the world, yet would never admit she couldn’t do everything alone. But was he that man?

Mac slipped the wedding ring off his finger and held it up to the light. His gaze focused on the inside of the ring. “For Benjamin, with love,” he read.

Who the hell was Benjamin and what was Mac doing with his wedding ring?

Mac tossed the ring back into the box. Probing the past was too dangerous. He’d been right before. It was better to live in the present.

* * *

“I’M READY,” EMMA SAID, holding the phone to her ear. “I’ve been going over it in my head all day long and I’m ready.”

“This is a dinner date,” Trish said, her voice crackling over the connection. “Not the D-Day Invasion.”

“I realize that. But I have to have a plan, don’t you think? We’ll have dinner, we’ll discuss the book, have a little wine and then, sometime around dessert, I’ll make my proposition.”

“I thought you guys were going to see Oklahoma.”

“I hope that’s just his backup plan, in case the date is a real disaster.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t plan too much. Just let it happen,” Trish said. “You know, organically.”

“And here I was thinking I’d just force the issue up front and forget about the date entirely.” Emma stood in front of the mirror and studied her reflection critically. “Why is this so complicated?”

“It isn’t. Thousands of couples go out on first dates. And hundreds of them go home afterward and have wild monkey sex without suffering even the tiniest twinge of guilt. You bought condoms, didn’t you?”

“Four different kinds,” Emma said. “I had to drive all the way into Petaluma to get them. You should have seen the look I got from the clerk. I think she assumed I was going to an orgy.” Emma groaned. “I have to go. I hear his car. Wish me luck.”

“You don’t need luck,” Trish said. “Just be yourself and see where it goes. No pressure, no expectations.”

Emma switched off her phone, then checked her appearance once more. She looked nice. She’d taken extra time with her hair and put on a tiny bit of mascara and lipstick. The outfit she wore wasn’t blatantly sexy, but it hugged her body in all the right places.

A knock sounded from the front door and Emma jumped, pressing her hand to her heart. Her pulse began to race as she approached the door, and for a moment, she felt light-headed and dizzy. She drew a few deep breaths, then pasted a smile on her face. Emma reached for the door handle and swung it open. Mac stood outside, another bouquet of flowers clutched in his hand.

“Hi, there,” he said with a wide grin. “You look great.”

“Thank you,” she murmured. “So do you.”

Emma’s hand trembled as she reached for the flowers. His hand brushed against hers. The touch was enough to send a shock wave coursing through her body and when he grabbed hold of her fingers, her pulse leaped.

For a long moment they stood frozen, neither one of them ready to move. But then, Emma groaned softly and threw herself into his arms. They stumbled inside the house, her lips searching for his before settling in to a deeply passionate kiss.

This wasn’t the way things were supposed to begin. But as his tongue tasted the warm depths of her mouth, she forgot all about her plans and decided to surrender herself to fate.

His hands spanned her waist as Mac pressed her against the wall, his hips meeting hers. The control had suddenly shifted. Emma had never been kissed like this, with such single-minded desire and such overwhelming passion. It was as if he’d lost the capacity to think and was operating only on sexual instinct.

Her heart pounded out a quick rhythm. She tried to catch her breath and when she couldn’t, she stepped back, gasping, her face flushed with warmth. “Sorry,” she said in a shaky tone.

Mac pressed his forehead against hers. “Is everything all right?”

Emma shook her head. She felt as if she was about to pass out. “No, it’s not. I don’t think I can do this.”

“Kiss me?”

“All of it,” she said, throwing her arms into the air. She walked across the room, putting a safe distance between them. “I thought it would be easy. But it’s always just looming on the horizon, this huge, black cloud that at any moment is going to surround me and smother me with guilt and shame and—”

“What are you talking about?” Mac asked.

Emma began laughing and suddenly she couldn’t stop. Why was this so difficult? Women lost their virginities every day. And yet the longer she held on to hers, the more it seemed to define her.

“Are you all right?”

It was one of those laughing fits that left her gasping and crying at the same time. She grabbed a quick breath. “It’s just—you’re going to hear this anyway if you haven’t already and maybe it best that I just said it up front.”

“Say what? That you’re a virgin?”

“I’m a virgin,” Emma shouted, throwing her arms out. She snapped her mouth shut and stared at him. “You knew?” She pressed her fingertips to her lips and waited for the humiliation to pass. She hadn’t meant to just blurt it out, but it was like an embarrassing medical condition. There was just no way to work it into the conversation.

“Yeah, I heard something about it,” he said.

Emma took a ragged breath. “I wanted you to understand. I mean, it’s best to be honest and I—”

“And you assumed I’d expect the evening to end in bed?”

“I was hoping it would,” she said. “At least that’s how I wanted to feel. But then, that kiss just—wow! I mean, my life flashed before my eyes and I couldn’t think. Or maybe I couldn’t stop thinking. I don’t know. I’m so confused.”

He frowned, then shook his head. “I don’t understand.”

She turned away from him and began to pace, following a short track across the living room. “I want to be completely up front with you. I don’t really care about dinner or talking about the book or going to see the play. I was just really hoping that you’d find me attractive enough to seduce at the end of the evening.”

“I do find you very attractive,” he murmured, reaching out to grab her hand. He pulled her back toward him, then rested his hands on her hips. “And seducing you has been on my mind a lot.”

“Before or after you found out I was a virgin?” He paused before answering and she could see the truth in his eyes. “I get it. It’s a big deal. Huge.”

“It’s just that your first time is supposed to be special,” Mac explained. “Especially if you’ve waited this long for it to happen.”

“And you can’t make it special?”

“Sure I could. But you’ll want more than a quick fix.”

“No, no, no,” Emma said, shaking her head. “I don’t want a boyfriend or a fiancé. I just want sex.” She slapped her hand over her mouth. “Maybe we should call an end to this now, before I make a complete fool of myself.”

He took her hand and pulled her over to the sofa, tugging her down to sit beside him. “What do you want to do, Emma? Right now.”

“I want to crawl under a rock and stay there until you forget this whole conversation,” she said.

“That’s not necessary. Let’s put aside all the talk about the...the deflowering.”

Emma groaned and covered her face with her hands. “Oh, don’t call it that. I don’t have flowers down there that need to be picked.”

“What am I supposed to call it?”

“I don’t know. Call it...call it, the task at hand.”

“Are you interested in someone who will simply complete the task at hand, or do you want more?”

“Just the task,” she said. “Nothing more.”

“No romance, no dating, no dinner and a movie?”

Emma shook her head. “Just the task.”

“You’re sure?”

She nodded.

“You’ve given me a lot to consider. I guess I’ll let you know.”

“You have to consider it? I thought men were able to just do it.” She drew a ragged breath. “Is it because you don’t find me attractive?”

Didn’t all single men love sex? And she’d assumed they weren’t very discriminating about where they got it. Was her offer that repulsive to him?

He chuckled. “No. I find you incredibly attractive, as I mentioned at the beginning.”

“Then why don’t you want to—do the task?”

He paused, as if to collect his thoughts. “Emma, you’re the kind of woman who deserves the best in life. You deserve so much more than I can give you.”

“You can’t give me a single night of mind-blowing sex? Because that’s really all I want. Just one night.”

“One night,” Mac murmured. “All right, I’ll get back to you. I promise.”

With that, he turned on his heel and walked to the front door. But Emma couldn’t leave it at that. She ran after him and grabbed his arm. “You think I’m crazy, don’t you? That’s it.”

He shook his head. “No, I think you’ve taken a very sensible approach to your problem.”

“Exactly. It’s sensible. I’m Emma, the virgin librarian. You’re Mac, the handsome, itinerant pilot. It makes perfect sense.”

“Does it? I mean, what are you going to do after it’s finished? It’s kind of a life-changing event.” He met her gaze.

“That’s just it. I want it to change my life. So it isn’t my life.”

“May I ask you something?”

Emma nodded. “Yes, of course. Ask me anything.”

“We’ve established that you’re twenty-seven years old and you’re still a virgin. We’ve also established that you’re beautiful and smart and sexy. Just how is that possible? Is this some sort of religious thing?”

“No. It just happened. I’ve never dated much, never had serious boyfriends. Believe it or not, the opportunity only presented itself a few times when I was younger and I decided to turn it down. And then the years just got away from me.”

“And you want me to take care of this for you?”

“Yes, I would appreciate that. It would only be one night. Not even a full night. I mean, it could go pretty fast, I think. At least that’s what I’ve heard. And I can guarantee that it wouldn’t be horrible. I’ve done a lot of reading so I know what’s what.”

“You realize that being aware that this is your first time changes everything.”

“I’m kind of just getting that,” Emma said. “Why, though? It’s still sex.”

“There’s a lot of pressure,” Mac said.

“You mean performance anxiety? Believe me, I can relate. Is that why you’re afraid to...do the deed?”

Mac cursed beneath his breath. “No. I don’t get performance anxiety.”

“Then why?”

He thought about her question for a long moment, then shrugged. “Maybe I want more,” he murmured. “Maybe a one-night stand isn’t enough for me.”

The notion that a man like Mac might prefer romance over pure lust surprised her. On the surface, he seemed to be the perfect playboy type, a guy who could easily love ’em, then leave ’em.

“I don’t expect it to be special,” Emma said.

“I want to make it special for you,” Mac said. He glanced over at her and smiled. “Listen, why don’t we just delay negotiations on this tonight and pick it up at a later date.”

“I understand,” Emma said. “If you don’t want to, you can just say so. I won’t be hurt.”

“Oh, I want to,” he replied. “Believe me, I’ve been thinking about it since the moment you walked into the shop. But I’m not sure you understand what you’re asking. So I’d like to take a little time.”

“All right. But if you change your mind, just call.”

“I will,” Mac assured her. “There is one thing we could do right now.”

“What’s that?” Emma asked. It all happened so quickly, she didn’t have a chance to prepare. He slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her close, his gaze meeting hers. And in a heartbeat, his mouth came down on hers in a long, delicious kiss.

Emma had already grown to love the way he kissed. His attention fixed on her lips for just a moment before his mouth descended on hers. And after that, a wild whirl of sensations assailed her body. His kiss was a demand, not a request, and she had no choice but to respond.

When he finally drew away, his eyes were closed and her breath came in short gasps. A thrill raced through her. It was obvious the kiss had affected him in the same way it had her. Maybe she should count this as a victory.

“I’ll talk to you soon?” she asked.

“You will,” he said.

She walked him to the front door and opened it. “Thanks for the kiss. It was really nice.”

“Emma?”

“Yes?”

“You don’t ever have to thank me for kissing you.”

3

MAC CIRCLED BUDDY’S PLANE, checking all the fittings and controls for crop dusting. He was due to go out at dawn the next morning, and he wanted to get a jump on the job. Hell, he didn’t have anything better to do on a Sunday than catch up with work at the shop.

He wasn’t going to fly his own plane because Mac’s old deHaviland Beaver wasn’t typically used for agriculture applications like crop dusting, a job better suited to a small, maneuverable plane. The Beaver was made for transport—of people and their belongings.

Whether he was bush piloting in Alaska or transporting produce in the warmer climates of California, Mac’s plane was the closest thing he had to a home. When he had no place to live, he slept in the tail section.

J.J. watched him as he went through his check, sipping on a cold Yoo-hoo. “So, how did your date go? I didn’t see you at the show last night.”

“It didn’t go. We decided to postpone the date.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Sorry about the show.”

“What happened?”

“It’s far too complicated to explain. We were looking for different things, I guess.”

“You were looking for sex, she was looking for romance?”

Mac shook his head. “No. The exact opposite. She was hoping for an end to her ‘condition’ and I wasn’t willing to provide it. At least not under her terms.”

“Terms?”

Mac ran his hand through his hair. “I don’t know. Maybe I should have said yes. But there’s something about Emma that I can’t get my mind around. I don’t want her to view me as just some solution to a problem.”

It didn’t make sense. He ought to be thrilled that she was interested in no-strings sex. And there was no doubt in his mind that their intimacy would be more than just one night. Once she got a taste of what he could offer in the bedroom, she’d want more.

So why did he refuse? Why not take the chance that he could turn a single night of sex into something more?

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