Holiday in Danger (2 page)

At last, he loosened his grip and his hand slipped away. “What’s got you carting cakes in Midnight Cove? Shouldn’t you be down at the beach? The spa?”

Holly frowned. “Do I look like someone who needs taking care of?”

His lips twitched. “Maybe.”

“Well, I’m not.” Talk about a mood killer. She didn’t need a man to swoop in and be her Prince Charming. Especially not one as dangerous as Trent. She could handle herself just fine.

* * *

IAN

Ian shut the door to the Range Rover and glanced up at the sky. Another perfect day in Midnight Cove. Too bad he couldn’t spend it at the beach. Between the endless calls about the shipments en route from China to New York, and the delays in his cargo ship off the African Coast, Ian hadn’t had time to sit down in weeks.

Add in the latest issue and Trent’s visit and he was lucky he slept at all. He walked toward Hillary’s cafe with a scowl. He should be catering his own parties and showing off his newest restaurant or latest bar. Not relying on someone else to do it for him. The shipping business might dwarf his restaurant holdings, but he’d never stopped loving it. Too bad no one made billions opening a cafe.

He rounded the corner of the little shop and stuttered to a stop. A woman stood at the entrance, gesticulating in big sweeping arcs at the front of Trent’s shirt as she frowned at him. She looked so familiar. Light brown hair cascaded down her back. Full, peach lips and flushed cheeks sparked a memory.

Ian’s eyes went wide.
Holy hell. Holiday?
He still remembered the little kid with twin braids he yanked as she ran by. The teenager with big brown eyes and an infectious laugh who made Mandy giggle even when she scraped her knee.

The way her lips melted into his as he’d pressed her up against the garage…

He shook his head.

With a deep breath, he ran his hand over his hair and smoothed it down. Last he’d heard, she’d moved to Los Angeles and become a chef. He’d gone to college and she’d forgotten all about the guy who helped her with homework and pushed her into the pool. The girl next door was gone.

Her voice carried down the sidewalk and his feet moved unbidden. One step after another, his own body dragged him forward until Trent turned around.
Whoa
. He let out a low whistle. “You look good in chocolate, man. What’s that, fudge?”

“Chocolate buttercream, actu—” She paused and the look on her face had his heart stuttering.

“Holiday. It’s been a long time. You look good.”

“Ian?”

He nodded and held out his hand.

After a beat, she took it. “I go by Holly now.” She glanced at Trent before continuing. “You, um, look good.”

“So what did Trent do to deserve a cake in his face? Try to save you?”

Her cheeks colored and Ian swallowed. She still hit him somewhere deep inside. Those big eyes. Innocent face. All new curves. He took her in—the swell of her hips, the shape of her ass, the hint of cleavage behind the apron.
Damn
. Holly’d done more than become a chef. She’d gone from cute to gorgeous. Just his type.

Trent interrupted his thoughts. “It was an accident.”

Ian shrugged and swiped a finger-full of frosting off Trent’s chest. He popped it in his mouth and his taste buds rejoiced. “Damn, Holly. That’s good. Did you make it?”

She nodded. “I’m here helping Hillary out for a while. She’s swamped.”

Ian blinked. “You’re working for Cove Catering?”

“For a month. I’m in-between restaurants and she was desperate for a baker, so I’m here until she gets a regular hire.”

He’d figured she must be there for a visit. Maybe a few days. But a whole month? “Where are you staying?”

Holly raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you Mr. Twenty Questions. I’m in a hotel. That new one down the coast.”

“It’s a half-hour drive.”

“It’s all I could find.”

“That’s ridiculous.” Ian shook his head. “You can’t stay in a hotel for a month. That would cost a fortune. I’ve got a guest house. Come stay with me.”

Trent stiffened beside him, but Ian ignored it. The guy could deal.

Holly smiled. “That’s sweet, but I couldn’t.”

“Nonsense. You can too.” Ian turned to Trent. “You don’t mind, do you?”

Trent shoved his hands in his pockets and looked away.

“Come on, I know you like the guest house, but it’s not like I smell. A few weeks in the main house with me won’t kill you.” Ian clapped him on the back. “Am I right?”

“Wait. What?” Holly shook her head. “You two are living together? I don’t want to—”

Trent interrupted her. “I’m in for a visit. And it’s fine. I don’t mind.”

Holly crossed her arms and her eyes flashed with anger. “No. I’m not kicking someone out with no notice. I don’t need your charity, Ian.”

“It’s not charity. It’s friendship.” Whatever was going on between her and Trent, they could work it out. They barely knew each other way back when. And he wasn’t saying goodbye to Holly when she’d just appeared in his life again. No fucking way.

Ian reached out and ran his fingers down her arm. She couldn’t hide the shiver. “It’ll give us a chance to reconnect. To reminisce.” He didn’t know why it mattered so much, but he needed her close. Trent wasn’t going to ruin that.

Holly hesitated and glanced at Trent. “I don’t know.”

“I do.” Ian stepped forward. “You’re coming. I’ve got a huge kitchen that’s completely neglected these days. You can bake. Work on some new recipes.” He glanced at Trent and grinned. “Practice throwing them at Trent.”

Holly blushed. “I
am
sorry about that.”

Trent waved her off. “Like I said, it’s fine.”

Ian caught Trent’s eye and he did his best to get the message across.
Convince her.

After a second, Trent rolled his shoulders and turned back to Holly. “Look, just agree, all right? Ian’s not going to let it go and there’s only so long I can stand here looking like a cake-o-gram gone wrong.”

Holly laughed and the tension eased. “Okay, fine. I’ll come stay. But only if I can pull my own weight. I’m not freeloading.”

“Whatever gets the job done.” Ian winked at Trent and pulled out his wallet. He fished a business card out and handed it to Holly. “That’s my address. Come by after work. The place’ll be ready.”

“Okay.”

Her gaze held his and he couldn’t help but wink. “It’ll be fun, trust me.”

She nodded and Ian turned toward the parking lot before grabbing Trent by the shoulder. “See you tonight, Holly.” He steered his friend around the corner and toward the car.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Trent leaned closer. “What the hell was that, Ian?”

“What did it look like?”

Trent frowned. “Like you were trying to get in her pants.”

Ian chuckled. “She wasn’t wearing any. God, didn’t you take a look at her? She’s drop dead.”

“Now’s not the time to be thinking with your dick.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you have a thing for her, too.”

“Bullshit.” Trent climbed in the passenger side of the Range Rover and slammed the door.

“How well did you know her when she lived here?”

Trent frowned. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not here for a vacation.”

“Yes, you are.”

“It’s a working vacation, Ian. I’ve got a job to do. Same as you.” He buckled his seat belt and Ian revved the engine.

“You don’t need to remind me how to run a business, Trent.” His friend snorted and Ian’s anger flashed. “Last time I checked I’ve made billions.”

Trent’s tone turned sharp. “Then how about you keep your pants zipped and Holly off your mind? We can’t be distracted. Not now.”

Ian exhaled. “You work your way and I’ll work mine.”

“If there’s one hint of a threat to her, I’m holding you responsible.”

“There won’t be.”

HOLLY

T
HE
CAR
SLOWED
to a stop and Holly blinked.
This can’t be right.
She fished out the business card from her purse and read the address again.

82 Windermere Lane.

She glanced up.
Holy shit.
Holly knew Midnight Cove had some nice digs. Mansions dotted the entire coastline. Playboys. Entrepreneurs. Billionaires. She’d known a few when she was younger and she’d heard all about the crazy parties Hillary had catered lately.

There’d been weddings on floating compounds constructed for a weekend. Entire islands that were rented out for a night of scandal and too much liquor. Five-year-old birthday parties that sported more caviar than bouncy houses.

But a gray stone villa with huge glass doors she could see the ocean through?
 

Her fingers typed a quick text.
You’ve catered for Ian Knowles, right?

She drummed her fingers on the steering wheel.

Yep. Is something wrong?

Holly swallowed. There was a problem all right.
This has to be a mistake. When I knew him, he lived in the bungalow next door. Just like me.

She chewed on a nail.

I told you he was doing well. What’s the big deal? I thought you were friends.

Holly snorted and looked up at the mansion. It was the size of a small hotel and just as grand with hydrangeas pouring over stone planters and checkerboard patterned grass. Even the driveway had a design—shells curled and curved in the concrete, swooping up to the front door like an ocean wave.

She looked through the front door again at the blue water. It sparkled just beyond the house, no more than a hundred yards away. This wasn’t just a nice house. It was opulent. Over the top.
 

The opposite of her life in Los Angeles.

She turned back to her phone.
I don’t think I should stay here. It’s too nice.

Too late. You’ve already said yes.

Holly shook her head.
I know. TTYL.
She stuffed her phone in her purse and tried to pull it together. She couldn’t believe she’d even thought about the past. How his lips felt pressed against hers. How he caged her in against the garage all those years ago.

Fantasizing about Ian Knowles made as much sense as her staying in his guest house. A broke baker from Los Angeles with no place to live and barely enough money for gas? Not exactly rich guy material.

She pushed open the car door.
 

It was one thing to grow up next door to someone who turned out to have more money than Holly’d ever dreamed of. It was another altogether to bum a place to live for a month. She should have said no. She wasn’t a charity case and she didn’t need Ian’s help. No matter how good his looks. Or Trent’s.

Holly hit the button for the trunk.
Beep. Beep.
Nothing.
Damn it.
She walked around to the back of her car and hit the button again.

The lock popped and gears ground together, but it didn’t open.
Great. Of all the places.
She gave the faded black metal a good thwack with her palm as she tried the lock again.
Finally
. It opened with a groan of protest and Holly grabbed her bag.

She hated to leave the beat-up Volvo out front, just sitting there like a sore thumb. But she didn’t see a garage. Not even a big bush to hide it behind. Just another reminder that she wasn’t close to Ian’s league.

With a groan, she hoisted the duffel over her shoulder and marched to the door.
It’s only a month. I can last a month.

She reached the front door, raised the pewter knocker and gave it good wham. The sound echoed through the house and she rocked back on her heels, waiting.
Nothing
. No footsteps. No calling out. She banged again.

Damn it. Did they forget? Change their minds?
The sound of water splashing and low voices carried from around the side of the house.
The pool
. She knew the house had a pool in the back. What villa didn’t? Maybe she’d find Ian there.

A few hurried steps around the stone walkway and Holly skittered to a stop.
Oh, my.
Find him she did.

Ian Knowles pushed himself up out of the pool. Broad shoulders. Cut arms. Body made for underwear ads, not piles of money. His red trunks slid low on his hips and the deep V of his muscles made Holly’s insides flutter. If anything, the years had only made him hotter. Sexier.

She ran her tongue over her lip and drank him in. Every last inch of his tanned skin, his long blond hair wet and dripping…it all burned into her brain. A permanent picture of male fantasy.
Mmm
. She’d be busy tonight.

He looked up with a sharp glance and she flushed.
Damn it.
Getting caught staring wasn’t the first impression she’d wanted to make. With a guilty hustle, Holly made her way to the edge of the pool.

“Holly! It’s about time you got here! I was wondering if you’d changed your mind.” Ian wiped his face off with a towel and reached out to kiss her cheek. The smooth dampness of his skin against hers made her reel. She stepped back before she said something stupid.
Focus, Holly. Focus.

The water splashed behind Ian and Holly glanced that way.

Trent
. He swam up to the edge of the pool and in one fluid leap, was standing next to Ian. There was the Trent she remembered. The dress shirt and slacks had hidden it all from view. His piercings and long hair might be gone, but his tattoos were still there. A dragon curved around his side and Holly fought the urge to crane her neck to find its swishing tail.