Taming the Montana Millionaire (2 page)

From this vantage point he could see the storefront where he planned to do his time. When the court clerk
gave him a list of places, he'd spotted Haley Anderson's name and decided it might not be so bad after all.

But she'd told him very politely, thank you, no. She was definitely not like the girl he'd kissed all those years ago. He remembered the sweet little sound she'd made when their lips touched, but not how pretty she was. He also didn't remember this confidence, with just enough contrariness to make her interesting. And really artistic judging by the mural she was creating.

He could have told her why he'd offered to help. He'd actually planned to because she would have to know eventually. There would be legal paperwork from the court that she had to sign off on. The thing was she'd gone on about why she was starting the program. Raising her younger siblings after her mom's death. Being part of the community. Bending over backward to get the teen meeting spot right.

Her earnestness was daunting. It seemed pure, but he'd had a costly lesson in misjudging women. A mistake he wouldn't repeat. Still, he just couldn't bring himself to tell her the whole truth of his offer to help. Since he wasn't getting out of Thunder Canyon without a driver's license, he had to persuade Haley to give him a chance. He'd prove himself trustworthy and indispensable, then break the news about community service. It was a good plan and there was no reason to doubt that he'd achieve his objective.

Sales were his business and women found him charming. Mostly. Because there were so few exceptions, they were memorable. There was the girl in college who could give lessons in sales. She'd made him fall for her and even propose. She'd insisted wedding should come before bedding but she wouldn't feel right about marrying him until she paid off a large debt—medical bills from her father's open heart surgery.

Marlon knew now he hadn't been thinking with his head when he wrote her name on a check with a lot of zeroes and handed it over. It was the last time he saw her.

His most recent charm-resistant woman was the judge who'd revoked his license for thirty days. Her Honor just didn't understand the need for speed on the empty, open highway and how it cleared a guy's head. And he was a guy with a lot on his mind.

He'd found his community service. Unfortunately it was for another woman who didn't seem to get his charm. He could go to the next organization on the court's list, but Haley Anderson's turndown had tapped into his mother lode of stubborn. He was going to change her mind. And the prospect was more entertaining than he would have expected.

Marlon saw Haley's old, beat-up blue Ford truck go slowly by The Hitching Post, pull around the corner and into the parking lot behind ROOTS. There was a refrigerator in the truck bed and he got an idea that might solve his problem.

He grinned. It was time to amp up the charm.

He left his apartment and walked down the wooden stairs, leaving by the back entrance to avoid going through the bar and grill. The breakfast and lunch rushes were over and the place sounded pretty empty, but it was too easy to get pulled into a conversation. He was a man on a mission.

He rounded the building, then walked down Main Street, turned right on Nugget Way and into the parking lot behind ROOTS. Haley was standing in front of the half-glass, half-wood door, unlocking it.

“Hi,” he said.

She whirled around at the sound of his voice and pressed a hand to her chest. “You scared me.”

“Sorry.” The sound of his boots on the paved parking lot was loud enough to wake the dead. She must have a lot on her mind, too. “I thought you heard me.”

She shook her head, then tucked a strand of hair that escaped her ponytail behind her ear. Earlier when she was painting, her hair had been twisted up and held with a comb thing. An image of that shiny brown silk loose around her shoulders flashed through his mind as the need to run his fingers through it banged around in his gut. He folded his arms over his chest to rein himself in. Distractions were not permitted to men on missions.

She'd changed out of the earlier ratty jeans and oversize T-shirt into a red tab-front, collared shirt with a yellow horse and bridle above the words The Hitching Post on the breast. The shirt was tucked into the waistband of a pair of denims that hugged her curvy hips and thighs. Her big brown eyes assessed him warily. The expression reminded him of a potential client at a sales meeting, wondering what he wanted them to buy and how much it was going to cost.

From experience he knew it was best not to lead with his bottom line. Get your target's guard down.

“Nice day,” he said, glancing up at a blue sky with wispy white clouds floating lazily by.

Haley looked up, then back at him. “Yes, it is. A little warm, though,” she added.

“Really? You think so?” Maybe
he
was making her warm, which wouldn't be a bad thing. Unless it increased her caution quotient. One look at her lips pressed tightly together told him that was the case. He let his gaze wander to the towering peaks in the distance. “The mountains here are different from the ones in L.A.”

He had a condo near the beach in Marina del Rey, a short drive from where his company MC/TC was headquartered.
The high energy of the bustling business center couldn't be more different from Thunder Canyon, Montana.

“How are they different?” Haley asked. “Other than the fact that here you can actually see them.”

“Ah, a subtle Los Angeles smog dig?”

“Was that subtle? I didn't mean to be.”

“For your information, the California emission standards are actually making a difference in air quality.”

“Good to know. But I prefer not to see the air I'm sucking in. I hope Thunder Canyon never has to clean up what we breathe because of too many cars on the road.”

Now he was feeling the heat. Cars were not a subject he wanted highlighted in this conversation, since for the next month it would be illegal for him to drive one. Not only that, her eyes were still wondering what he was after.

He glanced at her truck, standing beside them. “I couldn't help noticing you have a refrigerator in your vehicle.”

Her full lips curved up for a moment, chasing the guarded look from her eyes. “Nothing gets by you, does it?”

He laughed. “Just a little something you picked up?”

“It's a donation to the teen center,” she explained.

“How are you going to get it inside?”

“That's a very good question.” She looked from the big white appliance to the back door of the center. “I figured I'd grab some burly men at The Hitching Post and impose on their good nature.”

“I'm burly and here now. And my good nature is legendary. Impose away.”

She folded her arms over her chest. “You're going to move that heavy white albatross and put it where I say?”

“That's the plan.”

“Don't tell me,” she said. “There's a big letter S on your chest. The superhero swoops in to save the day.”

He eyed the appliance critically and shook his head. “I was thinking more of two planks, a dolly and some strategically placed straps, then rolling it inside all by my lonesome.”

“And just where would you get all that paraphernalia?” she asked suspiciously. “Wait, in your back pocket.”

He shook his finger at her, a teasing reprimand. “You're going to be sorry for mocking me.”

“It's worth the risk.” The distrustful look slid back into her eyes.

The expression on her face spoke volumes about the fact that she didn't expect him to follow through. Based on their brief contact six years ago, he supposed it was understandable. But this was now, they were adults, and he had something to prove.

“Just remember,” he said. “An apology is always good form when one is confirmed to be in the wrong.”

Marlon reached for his cell phone and made a quick call to the Cates Construction office. “Give me thirty minutes and I'll have that big boy inside ROOTS for you.”

“Right,” she said skeptically.

While he waited for his twin brother to bring what he needed, he helped Haley unload the paper goods from the cab of her truck. There were bags of plates, napkins, cups. They carried them into the small storage area off the main room.

When they came out again, there was a truck parked behind hers with the words Cates Construction painted on the side. His twin brother, Matt, hopped out.

“Hi, Haley,” he said.

“Matt. I guess you're here to bail out your brother and make good on his promise?”

“Nope. I just brought the stuff he asked for. He's on his own. I've got work to do.”

Marlon helped Matt unload everything, thanked him, and watched him drive back to the construction site for Connor McFarlane's new house.

Haley was staring after the truck, then met his gaze. “When you look at your brother is it like staring into a mirror?”

He laughed and shook his head. “We're pretty different. My mother doesn't have any trouble telling us apart. Although she did admit to being challenged when one of us calls her on the phone.”

“Double trouble,” Haley murmured. “Okay, hotshot, let's see if your burly body can cash the check your big mouth wrote.”

“Oh, ye of little faith.”

He let down her truck's tailgate and settled the two sturdy planks side by side about the width of the dolly's wheels. Then he put it in the bed, hauled himself up and muscled the refrigerator onto it. He strapped it on, tilted it back, and wheeled it easily down before rolling it toward the open door.

“Where did you want this?” he asked.

“In the storage room. There's an outlet in there to plug it in,” she explained.

He moved it inside and followed her instructions. The sound of the fridge humming made him grin when he met her gaze. “Anything else?”

Her sheepish expression was satisfying. “Thank you very much.”

“You're welcome.” He arched one eyebrow. “Is there anything more you'd like to say?”

“It's not very gentlemanly to make a woman grovel.”

“Hmm.” He leaned an arm on the dolly's curved handle. “I believe I warned you about mocking me.”

She rubbed a finger across the side of her nose. “Okay. I'll say it. I was wrong, Marlon. I appreciate your help.”

“What would you do without me?”

“Same as I do when you're not here,” she answered. “Wing it.”

“The thing is, Haley, I'm here now. Let me help you out.”

“That's okay. I'm used to handling things on my own.”

Marlon wasn't used to women turning him down and that was twice she'd told him no. It was really starting to tick him off. The next time he asked she
would
say yes.

She just didn't know it yet.

H
aley waited for Marlon to take the hint and leave, despite feeling kind of bad about it. He really had saved her a whole lot of time and a great deal of trouble.

“Look, Haley—” His easygoing manner didn't change, but something slid into his dark eyes that looked a lot like determination. “With my help, you can accomplish twice as much in half the time.”

There was no way to refute that. She was racing against the clock, even if it was her own self-imposed deadline. But the Marlon she remembered wasn't all that enthusiastic about helping others. And the Marlon standing in this tiny storage room seemed to fill up the small space.

She could smell the pleasantly masculine fragrance of his skin and feel the heat from his body. Either was enough to short-circuit rational thought, but the combination made her lightheaded and jumpy. She walked out into the big, empty room with its half-finished mural.

“Two heads are better than one,” he continued, following her.

“And that would be helpful—how?”

He rested his hands on lean hips and looked around. “I assume you're going to put something in here.”

“Furniture,” she confirmed.

“I could help.”

“Uh-huh.”
If
he was around—and that was a very big if.

“And I can provide a guy's point of view.”

“For?” she asked.

“When the kids come around. If they're having a problem, I can give you the male slant on it.” There was a serious expression on his face, but the twinkle in his eyes gave him away. “This might come as a big surprise to you, but men and women don't think the same way.”

She found herself fighting a smile. “Actually, I think I knew that.”

At least she'd probably read something about it in a magazine or seen evidence in a movie. Real life, not so much. She hadn't dated in high school, and the short time she'd spent in college didn't give her the chance to really know the guy she'd been seeing. Then her mom died and she'd come home. A personal life was so far down her priority list it never happened.

“Okay, so you can see the benefit I could provide.”

“It's the content of that benefit that concerns me,” she said.

“How so?”

“The kids need a role model.” She stopped there and hoped he would fill in the blanks.

He stared at her for several moments. “From that I take it you don't think I would be a positive influence?”

Bingo. “Word on the street is that you're a rule-breaker and envelope-pusher.”

“Some would say I think outside the box. That's not necessarily a bad quality.”

“The thing about breaking rules,” she said, “is that you have to know what they are before pushing them. The kids are in that vulnerable limbo where they're figuring things out.”

“I can help with that.”

Like he'd helped her six years ago? That's not the kind of lesson she wanted the teens to get from ROOTS.

“How?” she asked skeptically.

“You always did the right thing and can't understand the thought process of walking on the wild side. I can give you a different slant.”

“Is that an admission of guilt?” she asked, surprised.

“It's a confession insofar as I admit to getting away with ‘stuff'. My point being that not much gets by me. But you don't have the same experiences that give one a certain skill set. We would come at any problem of the kids' from two different viewpoints.”

“I appreciate the offer, Marlon—”

“Don't say it,” he warned. “What?”

“You were going to say you appreciate the offer,
but
I shouldn't hold my breath.”

“I guess you're a mind reader.” Not.

If so he'd know how real rejection felt. For days after he'd promised to call it felt as if she'd held her breath. When she finally realized he didn't plan to contact her, it had hurt a lot. But she figured a man like Marlon didn't know what it was like to be let down.

His eyes narrowed. “You know, Haley, this is beginning to feel personal.”

“Excuse me?” Her heart started to beat a little faster and the question might buy her some time to slow it down. “I think of it as practical, actually.”

“And I disagree.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “Practical would be taking what's offered because you need the help. Since you're turning me down, it's got to be personal.”

“How do you know I don't have a long waiting list of offers?” she bluffed.

“For starters, you'd have lined someone up to help you get that refrigerator inside. But you planned to wing it.”

So she wasn't a very good bluffer. He was way too close to the truth with that personal remark. Who'd have guessed that Marlon Cates was so perceptive? There was no way she would give him the satisfaction of knowing that his rejection still tweaked her on any level, no matter how small.

“It's not personal,” she assured him. “I just have to do what's best for the center.”

“So we're back to me being unreliable.”

“Everyone knows you have a multi-million-dollar company to run,” she hedged. “It's just common sense that you can't be counted on when you have to focus on your business.”

“Shouldn't I be the one who gets to decide how much time I have to spare for a worthy cause?” He stared at her intently. “And aren't you, as the driving force behind this venture, the one who takes whatever anyone is willing to donate?”

He had a point, darn it. If he hadn't started his multi-million-dollar company, he could easily have gone into the practice of law. He'd certainly backed her into a corner that was going to take some slick maneuvering to get out of gracefully. What she wanted to say was,
what happens
when you leave again?
Because he was leaving. His life wasn't in Thunder Canyon anymore.

“Look,” he said when she was quiet. “How about this. I'll commit to a certain number of hours per week for the next four weeks. If I prove to be unreliable, I'll do the right thing and admit I was wrong.”

She sighed. “Okay.”

He opened his mouth, then shut it again and stared for several moments. “What?”

“I agree to your proposal.” She met his gaze. “But it's only fair to warn you that you're on probation.
My
probation. If you mess up even once, you're gone. I can't take the chance with the kids.”

He held out his hand. “Done.”

She stared for several moments and her gaze slid up his strong arm. Finally she settled her fingers into his palm and shook on the deal.

“You won't be sorry.”

When the words were followed by a signature Marlon Cates grin, Haley was already sorry. The fluttering in her stomach and the tightness in her chest made her sorry. He still affected her. His presence made her feel things it wasn't safe to feel.

But really, it was one month. Thirty days. Not enough time to do any damage because she was wise to him. She knew to not expect anything.

Only a fool with stars in her eyes would let her guard down and Haley Anderson hadn't had stars in her eyes for a very long time.

 

Several hours later Haley was willing to admit, if only to herself, that Marlon's help had come in handy. And his timing for offering it couldn't have been better. Second Chances had agreed to donate furniture to her cause.

With Marlon's help, she'd moved over an eight-foot sofa with worn seat cushions and a threadbare loveseat that didn't match. There was a faux leather recliner that didn't recline, coffee and end tables with cigarette burns and scratches. Carved into the top of one were the initials CS+WR, with a heart surrounding the whole thing. Very romantic. The big, ugly donated lamps covered some of the dings, but she arranged it so the heart still showed.

They also got a TV. Since broadcast television had switched from analog to digital, quite a few sets had been discarded. Haley was more than happy to let the thrift store donate one to ROOTS because she had a converter box. Now it was all set up on a stand in the corner.

She brushed her forearm across her forehead and grinned. “Awesome.”

“You think?”

Haley heard the doubt in his voice. “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.”

Marlon stood beside her and folded his arms over his chest as he surveyed the room, his gaze settling on the place where stuffing was coming out of the gold-and-brown striped sofa cushion. Then he looked at the green-and-pink loveseat sitting at a right angle to it. “You call this beautiful and can actually say that with a straight face?”

“I still have a little money left from donations to buy some ready-made slipcovers that will just make this room pop.” She looked up at him and could almost hear her heart making a popping sound.

It was best to ignore that and concentrate on the good stuff—like being way ahead of where she'd expected to be right now. The only plan she'd had was for her brother and sister to get off work at Thunder Canyon Resort and stop by to help. But there was a flaw in Plan A, which Angie and Austin had pointed out in tones that bordered on whiney.
After work they'd be hungry and tired and not in favor of moving furniture. They'd reluctantly agreed to help, but now it wasn't necessary.

Because she'd had Marlon.

No, he wasn't hers. She didn't
have
him. She had the time he'd donated. No more, no less. And she still couldn't figure out why he'd insisted on helping. One of these days she'd stop looking a gift horse in the mouth while waiting for the other shoe to fall.

“I say it looks good,” she said, nodding firmly.

His expression said he disagreed. “That depends on your definition of good and your standards.”

“That's the beauty. It's not my standards that matter. This is for the kids. It's going to get trashed, anyway. They don't need to worry about ruining something that's brand-new. This room says come on in. Be comfortable.”

“And you couldn't have done it without me,” he teased.

“I could have,” she said, then reluctantly added, “but not this fast. Seriously, Marlon, thank you.”

“You're welcome.”

The deep, slightly husky quality in his voice scraped over her skin and seeped inside, tying her in knots. On top of that she was tongue-tied, too. He was a glib, quick-witted, millionaire man of the world and she was a nobody from a small town in Montana. It shouldn't matter, but it did. And as silence stretched between them, she felt more and more awkward and unsophisticated.

Just before she wished the earth would open and swallow her whole, the door opened and her brother and sister walked in. Relief flooded through her. “Austin. Angie.”

Her brother was as tall as Marlon and at twenty-two he wasn't that much younger. His brown hair was cut short and with a lot of time and product, he got it to stick out in
the trendiest possible way. His navy blue T-shirt set off the dark brown eyes that were studying the man beside her.

“Hey, Marlon.” He stuck out his hand.

For some reason the gesture seemed especially manly of her brother and made Haley proud.

“Austin.” He shook her brother's hand. “How are you?”

“Good. You?”

“Can't complain.” He nodded to Angie. “You look more like your big sister every time I see you.”

The slender, twenty-year-old's cheeks turned as pink as her T-shirt. She tucked a strand of straight, shiny, shoulder-length brown hair behind her ear. “Is that a compliment?”

He glanced down at Haley and winked. “Of course.”

Like she believed that. What was he going to say? The Anderson sisters shouldn't go down Main Street Thunder Canyon without bags over their heads? Charm and blarney were his specialties.

Austin's gaze drifted past them to the furniture in the center of the room, arranged in a cozy square to cultivate conversation. “So, we're too late to help?” he asked, grinning.

“Try not to look so disappointed,” Haley said, wryly.

“Darn, I was really looking forward to lugging stuff around.” If anything, his smile grew wider.

“Marlon was kind enough to help me.”

Austin nodded. “I owe you one, man.”

“No one's counting. I'm happy to be of service.” The man looked down at her. “And believe me, it wasn't easy.”

That goes double for me,
Haley thought, meeting his gaze. “The point is that the basics are in place and I'll get the word out that the kids can come on in.”

Angie nodded at the half-finished mural. “It looks good,
Haley. I like what you did with the cell phones, computers and books. The sports stuff is cool, too. Very yin and yang.”

“Balance. It's a subtle message up there, but it's the goal.” Haley glanced over her shoulder and smiled at her work in progress.

“And a good one,” her brother said. “But I really am glad Marlon gave you a hand. It's been a long day.”

“Austin works in engineering at the resort,” Haley explained.

“Maintenance actually,” he clarified. “Angie's in housekeeping.”

Her sister shrugged. “It's a job.”

“You should be grateful to have it,” Haley pointed out.

“So you keep telling me.” Her sister's lips pulled tight.

“Hey, sis,” Austin said, nudging his younger sister's arm with his elbow and effectively filling the tense silence. “Now that we don't have to help, we can eat sooner. Remember we're starving.”

“Yeah.”

Haley nodded. “Okay. I've done all I can here for tonight. You guys head on home and I'll be along to get dinner started.”

“I can make dinner,” Angie offered.

“That's okay.” Austin's expression kaleidoscoped from horror to sympathetic understanding. “The last time you got near the stove and tried anything but a sandwich or cold cereal, the scream of the smoke detector took out my hearing for hours.”