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Blake rubbed his unshaved chin. Perhaps she’d encountered a problem. After all, it was her first day. He should see if she needed help.
Blake packed up his laptop, locked his office door and headed down the hall. He almost kept walking. Almost pretended he didn’t hear the tapping of computer keys.
He groaned, knowing he was acting against his better judgment.
“Hey.” He gently knocked on Savannah’s open office door. “Still at it?”
“Finished just now.” Her earlier uneasiness appeared to be gone. “You didn’t wait for me, did you?” She seemed perturbed by the possibility.
“No. Just finished up myself. But since I’m here, I’ll walk you to your car.”
“I thought small towns like Magnolia Lake were idyllic bastions of safety and neighborliness.” Savannah barely contained a sarcastic grin as she grabbed her bags.
“Doesn’t mean we shouldn’t practice courtesy and good old-fashioned common sense.” He opened the door wider to let her out, then locked it behind them.
They made the trip to her small car in near silence. She stopped abruptly, just shy of her door.
“About earlier.” She turned to him, but her eyes didn’t meet his. “Sorry if I seemed rude. I wasn’t trying to be. I just...” She shook her head. “It wasn’t anything you did.”
“But it was something I said.” He hiked his computer bag higher on his shoulder when her eyes widened.
“It won’t happen again.”
“Good night, Savannah.” Blake opened her car door. He wouldn’t press, if she didn’t want to talk about it.
They weren’t lovers, and they needn’t be friends. As long as Savannah did her job well and played nice with others, everything would be just fine.
He stepped away from the car and she drove away.
Blake made his way back to his truck, thankful Savannah Carlisle had saved him from himself.
* * *
Savannah let herself into her apartment, glad the day was finally over.
When she got to the bedroom, she pulled a black leather journal from her nightstand. It held her notes about the Abbotts.
Savannah did a quick review of what she’d learned on the job today and jotted down everything she could remember.
Their processes. The grains used in their bourbon composition with a question mark and percentage sign by each one. The industry jargon she’d learned. Next, she outlined her impressions of each member of the Abbott family—starting with Blake.
Finished with the brain dump, she was starving and mentally exhausted. She scarfed down a frozen dinner while watching TV.
Her cell phone rang. Laney.
“Hey, sis.” Savannah smiled. “How’s my niece? And how is Granddad doing?”
“They’re both fine. How was your first day?”
“Long. I just got home.” Savannah shoved the last bite of processed macaroni and cheese into her mouth, then dumped the plastic tray into the recycle bin. “I made my proposal to the entire family—”
“You met all the Abbotts?”
“Everyone except their mother, Iris, and Joseph Abbott.” Savannah was both angry and relieved she hadn’t had the chance to look into the eyes of the coldhearted bastard who’d ruined her grandfather’s life.
“What were they like?”
Savannah sank onto the sofa. Blake’s dreamy eyes and kind smile danced in her head. The vision had come to her in her sleep more than once since they’d met.
In her dreams, they weren’t from opposing families. They’d been increasingly intimate, holding hands, embracing. And last night she’d awakened in a cold sweat after they’d shared a passionate kiss.
She’d struggled to drive those images from her head while spending a good portion of her day in his company.
“The Abbotts aren’t the ogres you expected, are they?” There was a hint of vindication in Laney’s question.
“No, but I met most of them for the first time today. They were trying to make a good first impression. After all, even a serial killer can have a charming facade.”
Laney didn’t acknowledge her logic. “Tell me about them, based on what you observed today. Not on what you thought you knew about them.”
Savannah removed her ponytail holder and shook her head. Her curly hair tumbled to her shoulders in loose waves from being pulled tight.
“It was hard to get a read on their dad—Duke. He’s personable, but all business.”
“What about the rest of them?”
“I met Blake, Parker, Max and Zora—the four siblings who run the distillery. There’s a fifth—Cole. He has his own construction company.”
“Why didn’t he go into the family business?”
“Don’t know.” Savannah had wondered, too.
“Quit stalling and tell me more.”
“Zora is sweet. Max is funny. Parker is kind of an asshole.”
“And what about Blake Abbott? This was your second encounter. Did your impression of him improve?”
“Yes.” She hated to admit that it was true. But Blake’s genuinely warm interactions with his employees during the tour made him appear to be an ideal boss.
“So now that you see you were wrong about the Abbotts, will you please let this thing go?”
So much for Laney being on board with the plan.
“The congeniality of Joseph Abbott’s grandchildren isn’t the issue here.”
“Savannah—”
“If they’re genuinely innocent in all of this...well, I’m sorry their grandfather was such a bastard. It isn’t like I plan to steal the company from under them the way he did from Granddad.”
“Then what exactly do you want, honey? What’s your grand plan here?”
“Our family deserves half the company. That’s what I want. And if they don’t want to share, they can buy us out. Plain and simple.”
Laney made a strangled sound of frustration. A sound she made whenever they discussed their grandfather’s claims regarding King’s Finest.
“I couldn’t do what you’re doing.” Laney’s voice was quiet. “Getting to know people. Having them come to like and trust you. Then turning on them.”
Savannah winced at the implication of her sister’s words. “I’m not ‘turning’ on them. I’m just standing up for my family. As any of them would for theirs. Besides, I’m not harming their business in any way.”
“You’re spying on them.”
“But I’m not taking that information to a competitor. I’m just gathering evidence to support Granddad’s ownership claim.” Savannah tamped down the defensiveness in her tone.
“And what about Blake?”
“What about him?”
“You like him. I can tell. What happens when he learns the truth?”
A knot twisted in Savannah’s belly. “If he’s as good a man as everyone seems to think, he should want to make this right. In fact, I’m counting on it.”
Six
Savannah smiled in response to the email she’d just received from Max, who was away at another trade show. They’d secured the endorsement of a local boy who’d become a world-famous actor. With his rugged good looks and down-home, boyish charm, he was perfect.
Her plans for the jubilee were in full swing. The rustic gala, to be held in the Abbotts’ old country barn, would celebrate the company, its employees and distributors and attract plenty of media coverage. The renovated barn would provide King’s Finest with an additional revenue stream and create jobs in the small town.
Savannah had been working at the distillery for nearly a month. The residents of the small town had done their best to make her feel welcome—despite her desire to hang in the shadows and lie low.
Every Friday she turned down no less than two invitations to the local watering hole for drinks after work. One of those invitations always came from Blake.
An involuntary shudder rippled down Savannah’s spine when she thought of Blake with his generous smile and warm brown eyes. Savannah shook her head.
She would not think of how good Blake Abbott looked in the checkered dress shirts and athletic-fit slacks he typically wore. Each piece highlighted the finer points of his physique. A broad chest. Well-defined pecs. Strong arms. An ass that made it evident he was no stranger to lunges and squats.
His clothing was designed to torture her and every other woman with a working libido and functioning set of eyes. It tormented her with visions of what his strong body must look like beneath that fabric.
A crack of thunder drew her attention to the window. She checked the time on her phone. It was barely after seven, but dark clouds and a steady downpour darkened the sky, making it feel later.
Savannah worked late most nights. The gala was quickly approaching and there was so much to do.
Plus, being the last member of the administrative team to leave each night gave her a chance to do some reconnaissance. She could access files she didn’t feel comfortable perusing when Max, Blake or Zora might pop into her office at any minute.
Then there was the surprising fact that she thoroughly enjoyed the work she was doing. She was often so engrossed in a task that time got away from her.
Like tonight.
Outside the window, increasingly dark clouds loomed overhead. The steady, gentle rain that had fallen throughout the day was now a raging downpour.
Another flash of light illuminated the sky. It was quickly followed by a peal of thunder that made Savannah’s heart race.
It was lightning that posed the real danger. Savannah knew that better than most. The thunder was just sound and fury.
She loathed driving in inclement weather. Tack on the steep hills, narrow roads, one-lane bridge and her vague familiarity with the area, and it was a recipe for disaster.
One wrong turn, and she could end up in a ditch, lost in the woods, undiscovered for months.
Stop being a drama queen. Everything will be fine. Just take a deep breath.
Savannah took a long, deep breath.
She’d hoped to wait out the storm. Her plan had backfired. Engrossed in her work, she hadn’t noticed that the rain had gotten much heavier. And it didn’t appear to be letting up anytime soon.
After composing and sending one final email, Savannah signed off her computer. She gathered her things and headed for the parking lot, as fast as her high-heeled feet could carry her.
Shit.
She was without an umbrella, and it was raining so hard the parking lot had flooded. No wonder the lot was empty except for her car.
If it stalled out, she’d be screwed.
A flash of lightning lit the sky like a neon sign over a Vegas hotel.
Jaw clenched, Savannah sucked in a generous breath, as if she were about to dive into the deep end of the pool. She made a mad dash for her car before the next bolt struck.
Despite the warm temperatures, the rain pelted her in cold sheets as she waded through the standing water. Her clothing was wet and heavy. Her feet slid as she ran in her soaking-wet shoes.
Savannah dropped into the driver’s seat and caught her breath. Her eyes stung as she wiped water from her face with the back of her hand, which was just as wet.
She turned her key and gave the car some gas, grateful the engine turned over.
There was another flash of lightning, then a rumble of thunder, followed by a heavy knock on the window.
She screamed, her heart nearly beating out of her chest.
A large man in a hooded green rain slicker hovered outside her window.
She was cold, wet, alone and about to be murdered.
But not without a fight.
Savannah popped open her glove compartment and searched for something...anything...she could use as a weapon. She dug out the heavy tactical flashlight her grandfather had given her one Christmas. She beamed the bright light in the intruder’s face.
“Blake?” Savannah pressed a hand to her chest, her heart still thudding against her breastbone. She partially lowered the window.
Even with his eyes hidden by the hood, she recognized the mouth and stubbled chin she’d spent too much time studying.
“You were expecting someone else?”
Smart-ass.
If she didn’t work for the Abbotts, and she wasn’t so damned glad not to be alone in the middle of a monsoon, she would have told Blake exactly what she thought of his smart-assery.
“What are you doing here? And where’d you come from?”
“I’m parked under the carport over there.” He pointed in the opposite direction. “Came to check on the building. Didn’t expect to see anyone here at this time of night in the storm.”
“I didn’t realize how late it was, or that the rain had gotten so bad. I’m headed home now.”
“In this?” He sized up her small car.
She lifted a brow. “My flying saucer is in the shop.”
Savannah knew she shouldn’t have said it, but the words slipped out of her mouth before she could reel them back in.
Blake wasn’t angry. He smirked instead.
“Too bad. Because that’s the only way you’re gonna make it over the bridge.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You’re renting from Kayleigh Jemison in town, right?”
“How did you know—”
“It’s Magnolia Lake. Everyone knows everyone in this town,” he said matter-of-factly. “And there are flash-flood warnings everywhere. No way will this small car make it through the low-lying areas between here and town.”
“Flash floods?” Panic spread through her chest. “Isn’t there another route I can take?”
“There’s only one way back to town.” He pointed toward the carport. “The ground is higher there. Park behind my truck, and I’ll give you a ride home. I’ll bring you back to get your car when the roads clear.”
“Just leave my car here?” She stared at him dumbly.
“If I could fit it into the bed of my truck, I would.” One side of his mouth curved in an impatient smile. “And if there was any other option, I’d tell you.”
Savannah groaned as she returned her flashlight to the glove compartment. Then she pulled into the carport as Blake instructed.
“Got everything you need from your car?” Blake removed his hood and opened her car door.
“You act as if I won’t see my car again anytime soon.”
“Depends on how long it takes the river to go down.”
“Seriously?” Savannah grabbed a few items from the middle console and shoved them in her bag before securing her vehicle. She followed Blake to the passenger side of his huge black truck.
She gasped, taken by surprise when Blake helped her up into the truck.
“I have a couple more things to check before we go. Sit tight. I’ll be back before you can miss me.”
Doubt it.
Blake shut her door and disappeared around the building.
Savannah waited for her heartbeat to slow down. She secured her seat belt and surveyed the interior of Blake’s pickup truck. The satellite radio was set to an old-school hip-hop channel. The truck was tricked out with all the toys. High-end luxury meets Bo and Luke Duke with a refined hip-hop sensibility.
Perfectly Blake.
A clean citrus scent wafted from the air vents. The black leather seats she was dripping all over were inlaid with a tan design.
A fierce gust of wind blew the rain sideways and swayed the large truck. Her much smaller car rocked violently, as if it might blow over.
Another blinding flash of lightning was quickly followed by a rumble of thunder. Savannah gritted her teeth.
She’d give anything to be home in bed with the covers pulled over her head.
Everything will be fine. Don’t freak out.
Savannah squeezed her eyes shut. Counted backward from ten, then forward again. When she opened them, Blake was spreading a yellow tarp over her small car.
Damn you, Blake Abbott.
She’d arrived in Magnolia Lake regarding every last one of the Abbotts as a villain. Blake’s insistence on behaving like a knight in shining armor while looking like black Thor made it difficult to maintain that position.
He was being kind and considerate, doing what nearly any man would under the circumstances. Particularly one who regarded himself a Southern gentleman.
That didn’t make him Gandhi.
And it sure as hell didn’t prove the Abbotts weren’t capable of cruelty. Especially when it came to their business.
But as he approached the truck, looking tall, handsome and delicious despite the rain, it was impossible not to like him.
Relax. It’s just a ride home.
The storm had Savannah on edge. Nothing a little shoo-fly punch wouldn’t soothe. She just needed to endure the next twenty minutes with Blake Abbott.
* * *
Blake stood outside the truck with the wind whipping against his back and his soaking-wet clothing sticking to his skin. He forced a stream of air through his nostrils.
Parker’s warning replayed in his head.
Don’t think of her that way. It’ll only get you into trouble.
He’d come back to the plant after dinner with his father to make sure everything was okay. But he’d also come back looking for her, worried she’d spent another night working late, not recognizing the dangers of a hard, long rain like this. Something any local would know.
He would have done this for any of his employees—male or female. But he wasn’t a convincing enough liar to persuade himself that what he was doing tonight...for her...wasn’t different. More personal.
Something about Savannah Carlisle roused a fiercely protective instinct.
Keep your shit together and your hands to yourself.
Blake took one more cleansing breath and released it, hoping his inappropriate thoughts about Savannah went right along with it.
When he yanked the door open, Savannah’s widened eyes met his. Shivering, she wrapped her arms around herself.
“You’re freezing.” Blake climbed inside the truck and turned on the heat to warm her, wishing he could take her in his arms. Transferring his body heat to hers would be a better use of the steam building under his collar. “Is that better?”
Savannah rubbed her hands together and blew on them. “Yes, thank you.”
Blake grabbed a jacket off the back seat and handed it to her. “Put this on.”
There was the briefest hesitance in her eyes before Savannah accepted the jacket with a grateful nod. It was heavy, and she struggled to put it on.
Blake helped her into it. Somehow, even that basic gesture felt too intimate.
“Let’s get you home.” Blake put the truck into gear and turned onto the road that led across the river and into town.
They traveled in comfortable silence. It was just as well. The low visibility created by the blowing rain required his complete focus.
They were almost there. Savannah’s apartment was just beyond the bridge and around the bend.
Shit.
They were greeted by a roadblock and yellow warning signs. The water had risen to the level of the bridge.
“There’s another way into town, right?” Savannah asked nervously.
Blake didn’t acknowledge the alarm in her brown eyes. If he didn’t panic, maybe she wouldn’t, either, when he broke the bad news. “That bridge is the only route between here and your place.”
“I can’t get home?” Her voice was shaky and its pitch rose.
“Not tonight. Maybe not tomorrow. The bridge is in danger of washing out. I could possibly make it across in my truck, but the weight of this thing could compromise the bridge and send us downriver.”
“So what do I do for the next couple of days? Camp out in my office until the bridge is safe again?”
“That won’t be necessary.” Blake groaned internally. Savannah wasn’t going to like the alternative. “My house is up the hill a little ways back.”
“You think I’m staying at your house? Overnight?” She narrowed her gaze at him. As if he’d orchestrated the rain, her staying late and the bridge threatening to wash out.
“You don’t really have another choice, Savannah.” He studied her as she weighed the options.
She pulled the jacket around her tightly as she assessed the road in front of them, then the road behind them. “Seems I don’t have much of a choice.”
A knot tightened in the pit of Blake’s stomach. He’d hoped that she would be stubborn enough to insist on returning to the office. That he wouldn’t be tortured by Savannah Carlisle being off-limits and sleeping under his roof.
“Okay then.” He shifted the truck into Reverse, turned around and headed back to the narrow road that led to the exclusive community where he and Zora owned homes.
As they ascended the hill, the handful of houses around the lake came into view. A bolt of lightning arced in the sky.
Savannah flinched once, then again at the deafening thunder. She was trying to play it cool, but her hands were clenched into fists. She probably had nail prints on her palms.
Why was she so frightened by the storm?
He wanted to know, but the question felt too personal. And everything about Savannah Carlisle indicated she didn’t do personal. She kept people at a safe distance.
She’d politely refused every social invitation extended to her since she’d joined the company. Some of his employees hadn’t taken her repeated rejections so well.
He’d tried not to do the same. After all, distance from her was exactly what he needed.
When they arrived at his house, he pulled inside the garage.
“You’re sure this won’t cause trouble? I mean, if anyone found out...” A fresh wave of panic bloomed across her beautiful face. “It wouldn’t look good for either of us.”
“No one else knows. Besides, any decent human being would do the same,” he assured her. “Would you prefer I’d left you in the parking lot on your own?”
“I’m grateful you didn’t.” Her warm gaze met his. “I just don’t want to cause trouble...for either of us.”
“It’s no trouble,” Blake lied. He hopped down from the cab of the truck, then opened her door.
She regarded his extended hand reluctantly. Finally, she placed her palm in his and allowed him to help her down.
Blake stilled for a moment, his brain refusing to function properly. Savannah was sopping wet. Her makeup was washed away by the rain, with the exception of the black mascara running down her face. Yet she looked no worse for the wear.
Her tawny skin was punctuated by a series of freckles splashed across her nose and cheeks.
Something about the discovery of that small detail she’d hidden from the world thrilled him.
His gaze dropped to her lips, and a single, inappropriate thought filled his brain.
Kiss her. Now.
She slipped her icy hand from his, slid the jacket from her shoulders and returned it to him.
“Thank you.” He tossed it into the back seat and shut the door.
When he turned to Savannah she was shivering again.
He rubbed his hands up and down her arms to warm her before his brain could remind him that was an inappropriate gesture, too.
Her searing gaze made the point clear.
“Sorry... I...” Blake stepped away, his face heated. He ran a hand through his wet hair.
“I appreciate the gesture. But what I’d really love is a hot shower and a place to sleep.”
“Of course.” Blake shrugged off his wet rain slicker. He hung it on a hook, then closed the garage door. “Hope you’re not afraid of dogs.”
“Not particularly.”
“Good.” Blake dropped his waterlogged shoes by the door to the house. When he opened it, his two dogs surrounded him, yapping until he petted each of their heads. They quickly turned their attention to Savannah.
“Savannah Carlisle, meet Sam—” He indicated the lean Italian greyhound who, while peering intently at Savannah, hadn’t left his side. “He’s a retired racing greyhound I rescued about five years ago.”
“Hello, Sam.”
“And that nosy fella there is Benny the labradoodle.” Blake indicated the rust-and-beige dog yapping at her feet, demanding her attention.
“Hi, Benny.” Savannah leaned down and let the dog sniff her hand, then petted his head. “Pleasure to meet you.”
Benny seemed satisfied with her greeting. He ran back inside with Sam on his heels.
“Did you rescue Benny, too?”