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Second-Chance Seduction(21)

By:Kate Carlisle


                Once her glass was filled, she made a note of the liquid’s light golden brown appearance, then checked its aroma. Next, she tasted it, trying to be objective as she tested its flavor and balance.

                “Perfect,” she murmured. It just might be her best formula yet. Finished for the day, she closed off the valve and cleaned up the counter area, then took her small glass of ale out to the wide veranda that circled the house. There she relaxed and finished her drink as she watched the sun sink below the cliffs.

                At this time of the afternoon, it wasn’t unusual to spot a family of black-tailed deer or the occasional tule elk foraging its way past live oak trees, arroyo willows and elderberry shrubs. Maggie spied a brush rabbit scurrying across the trail, seeking cover from a red-tailed hawk that glided in the sky.

                Maggie loved the wild beauty of these hills, loved the scent of sea salt in the air. She never got tired of staring at the windblown, impossibly gnarled cypress trees that lined the bluffs at the edge of the property. When she was young, she’d been certain that elves lived in those trees. Everything was magical back then.

                The magic seemed to disappear after her father died. His death had marked the beginning of too many bad choices on Maggie’s part. In the past few years, though, she had managed to turn things around and was now determined to bring some of that old magic back. That was one reason why the revival of her father’s beer-making legacy was so important to her.

                The upcoming Autumn Brew Festival would be the culmination of all her struggles to establish herself as a key player in the industry her father had loved. Maggie had come a long way and was proud to be the owner and operator of “possibly the best new small brewery in Northern California,” as one critic had called her burgeoning enterprise.

                But her smile faded as she was reminded again of the deal she’d struck with the devil, aka Connor MacLaren. If Maggie’s old high school friends had anything to say about it, Connor should feel entirely justified in seeking his revenge next week. The slightest negative word from Connor would be enough to destroy Maggie’s standing among her industry peers.

                If Maggie was being honest, though, she would have to admit that it wasn’t Connor’s style to be vindictive or mean. On the other hand, he had blamed her for the breakup and might be willing to do something to get even with her over the next week.

                But while the possibility of dirty tricks and sabotage alarmed her, Maggie’s real concern was Connor himself and his dangerous proximity. How was she expected to survive a full week in the same hotel suite with him? For goodness’ sake, the man had only improved with age to become the sexiest creature she’d ever seen. Maggie knew full well that he had every intention of luring her into bed with him. Could she possibly resist his sensual onslaught? Did she even want to?

                She left that question unanswered, but she was adamant that whatever occurred, it would be by her own decision. She would never again allow herself to be coerced by a man. She was no longer a weak-kneed, passive girl but a confident, successful woman in control of her own destiny. And she would decide if that destiny included a sexy roll in the hay with Connor MacLaren.

                The strong, confident woman giggled at that image as she went inside to start dinner.

                Later, as they dined on meat loaf, mashed potatoes and freshly harvested green beans, she and her grandfather talked about the festival. “I’m afraid I’ll be gone all week, Grandpa.”

                “I’m glad you’re getting out and having some fun,” he said jovially. “And don’t you worry about me. I’ll be fine while you’re gone.”

                “I won’t worry,” Maggie said, “because Mrs. MacLaren has already promised to stop by for a visit every day.”