The Return Of David Mckay

She rocked back on her heels and looked up at him questioningly.

“Fire’s too hot to sit so close,” he said, hoping that he’d managed to keep his expression flat and uninterpretable. “And I have work to do.”

He retrieved his laptop and one of the lanterns. A few feet away from the campfire he found a perfect spot where he could keep an eye on things but might be spared the constant reminder of Addy’s disturbing presence.

The Peterson agreement. Ten minutes of the new catering contract for his production company would be enough to capture his interest and kill what was left of the evening.

His grandmother was already snoring softly when Addy rummaged through the supply box for something, then disappeared into the tent. Shadows danced in the lantern light as she moved around inside.

Good. Day one almost over, David thought as he pulled up the Peterson file on his computer. He didn’t need to spend any more time being sociable or helpful tonight.

Thirteen days to go. Way to go, McKay.

The night air seemed full of sweetness, and down by the stream a frog chorus had begun a serenade. Moonbeams braided through the clouds overhead. Perfect.

David situated himself into a comfortable position and began tapping out changes to the terms of the deal his legal team had prepared. He intended to offer it to Peterson by phone tomorrow morning.

Witness that the said first party, McKay Worldwide Inc., does hereby acknowledge unto the said second party—

He heard a muffled groan of pleasure and looked up. He could tell from the shadows on the tent wall that it was Addy, massaging lotion into her shoulders and arms.

Whereas the party of the second part, Peterson Catering, has agreed to accept a payment in the amount of—

At the sound of a tiny sigh of relaxation, he glanced up again. She was still at it.

—one hundred and eighty-seven thousand dollars, to be paid over a period not to exceed three months, the first monthly installment being due and payable on the twenty-first of August—

In his peripheral vision David caught a flicker of light. He tilted his head toward the tent. Elongated shadows on the tent surface indicated that Addy had risen. He could see the outlined thrust of her breasts as she stretched and lifted the heavy sweep of hair off her neck.

Willing away that awareness, David lowered his eyes to the computer. The cursor blinked at him as if irritated. He backspaced and tried to pull concentration around him like a cloak. He red-lined the amount Legal had negotiated and began typing in the amount he intended to offer.

One hundred and fifty-five thousand dollars—

He sat there, suspended, listening to the sudden mad knocking in his chest as he tried to remember what he’d intended to type next.

One hundred and fifty-five thousand—

One hundred and—

With a small noise of self-disgust and a flick of his wrist, he closed the file and shut down the computer. How was a person supposed to concentrate here?

Shoving the laptop back into its case, he rose. He hadn’t even gotten control of his frenzied breathing enough to think, but one thing David knew for sure—he needed to get away from the suffocating enclosure of the campsite for a while.

“I’m going for a walk,” he called, setting out immediately.

Every muscle seemed to ache with bow-strung tension as, impelled by the blind instinct of flight, he followed the course of the stream. It was fortunate the moon was so bright. The last thing he needed right now was to get lost and have to count on Addy to rescue him.

He stopped to sit on a huge boulder, listening to the sounds of night creatures looking for a new darkness to call home.

And trying to cool the fire in his blood.

He didn’t need this kind of excitement. He had enough things to think about on this trip without indulging fantasies about Addy’s bare body silhouetted in lamplight. What he could use right now was a session with a very good bottle of booze or a punishing workout at the gym. Maybe a cold shower that would leave a numbness for which he would be eternally grateful…

With an abrupt explosion of movement, David toed off his boots and socks, ripped his jeans down his legs and pulled off his shirt. Before he could change his mind, he waded naked into the stream.

It took his breath away.

It laid gooseflesh along his spine.

It chattered his teeth.

It was…perfect.

CHAPTER FIVE

DAVID HAD EXPECTED TO spend the night tossing and turning or at the very least to wake up twisted like a pretzel. Instead, after that dip in the icy river, he’d slept well and awoken feeling refreshed, recalled to earth by the sound of Addy banging on an iron pot and calling encouragingly, “Rise and shine, you two. Breakfast in fifteen minutes!”

Gran emerged from the tent, seemingly no worse for wear. She greeted David and Addy with a cheerful, “Good morning!” and then hurried to the makeshift lavatory they’d created last night: a plastic basin for a sink and a small mirror wedged into a tree. A bent branch became a towel rack.

David rolled over within his sleeping bag, surprised to discover that while he’d been sound asleep out in the open, only a few feet away Addy had started a fire, coffee and the beginnings of breakfast. She was also dressed in fresh jeans and a T-shirt, and her hair, shining in the morning sun, lay smoothly brushed against her back. Compared to her bright efficiency, he felt every bit the disheveled tenderfoot slug.