CHAPTER 1
The Present, Amesport, Maine
She’s crying.
He shouldn’t give a shit.
He didn’t want to care.
But unfortunately, he damn well did.
Jared Sinclair rested one muscular shoulder against the brick exterior of Shamrock’s Corner Pub on Main Street, watching as Mara Ross left her doll shop and walked briskly across the road, swiping angrily at her cheeks. He held his breath as she passed within a few yards of him on her way down to the boardwalk, feeling like a damn stalker. Her gaze was focused straight ahead, and he released the air from his lungs as Mara walked right by him, completely unaware of his presence.
She never even saw me.
That shouldn’t bother him, either, but somehow it rankled that he was so fascinated by Mara, enthralled enough by her that he stopped everything to watch her, and she never even acknowledged him.
Why is she crying? She’s always smiling.
Pushing himself away from the building, he followed her, unable to resist the compulsion to chase after her, selfishly hoping her unhappiness wasn’t caused by his actions.
She shouldn’t know . . . yet.
It could be anything. Maybe she was just hormonal. That happened to women, right? Or perhaps her dog died. Tragic, but animals did have short life spans compared to humans, and they did die. He’d never had a pet, but Jared imagined losing a canine companion would definitely make Mara cry. Problem was, Mara didn’t have a dog, and her only close relative, her mother, had passed away a year ago.
It could still be anything, some other reason.
He cursed himself for caring, his curiosity getting the better of him as he continued to trudge after her.
She’d disappeared from the boardwalk, obviously making her way to the sandy, deserted beach. The weather was dismal, and it had been raining all day long. Yeah, there was a temporary break in the storms at the moment, but all Jared had to do was take one look at the sky and he could see the next one quickly moving into Amesport. The dark clouds were coming straight toward the small Maine coastal town—which was the primary reason most sane people were indoors right now. The streets and beach were nearly deserted.
Cursing his fascination with the curvy brunette, he took a slug of his coffee from Brew Magic and headed for the boardwalk. Personally, Jared loved the darkness of the stormy day, the crashing of thunder and deluge of rain matching the agitating restlessness he felt inside himself. He didn’t much care if he acted like a prick most of the time. It was better than trying to fake a happiness that didn’t exist for him.
I wish I’d never left the Peninsula and come into town. I wish I had stayed indoors and dry like the tourists are doing today. Then I never would have seen her, never would have known she was even upset.
Since he was probably the worst cook in the world, he’d driven from his home on the Amesport Peninsula into town to get something to eat. Just as he’d been heading back to his vehicle, he’d stopped to stare across the street at Mara’s store. Two very different, odd compulsions struck him deep in his gut whenever he saw the monstrous old structure that was Mara Ross’s shop and home. Certainly, he was drawn to the old residence because it was part of the Sinclair history in Amesport, a house that had belonged to a sea captain who was his ancestor. Every time he looked at the home, he wondered what it had looked like two hundred years ago. Hell, he was an architect by education. Wasn’t it normal to imagine seeing the rambling old structure as it had been in its glory days? Jared could shake those feelings off because of his education and occupation. He loved old houses in general, the sense of history he felt when he was near them. Understandable, perhaps—considering his background. What really disconcerted him was his obsession with the building’s occupant, Mara Ross.
She helped me out a few times. It’s normal to feel a certain amount of gratitude, right?
Jared was bullshitting himself, and he knew it. There were a lot of people who had helped him research the Sinclair history in the town of Amesport since he’d arrived there for a visit to his vacation house weeks ago. Intrigued because he’d never known just how entrenched the Sinclairs had been in this community historically, he’d sought information just for the hell of it in the beginning. The more he learned, the more he wanted to put all the puzzle pieces together of his family history. Although he was grateful to everyone who had helped him put the mystery of his Amesport ancestors together, he didn’t feel any inexplicable pull toward a single one of them—except her.
Oblivious to the damage he was doing to his casual but expensive Italian leather shoes, Jared left the boardwalk and went down the small incline to the beach, his feet sinking into the wet sand.
Where the hell did she go?
His heart hammered in alarm as his eyes swept over the deserted beach, not seeing another living soul. The violence of the crashing waves hitting the shore increased his urgency to locate her . . . until he finally saw her, sitting alone at the end of the rock formations near the pier, her head bowed in what looked like defeat.
Leave. Don’t get involved. It’s none of my damn business why she’s upset. She obviously wants her privacy. Go. Now.
He avoided emotional scenes like incurable diseases. The last thing he wanted to do was get involved in some female’s problems, a woman he’d only talked to briefly a handful of times. He hardly knew her. And he didn’t do drama. Staying in control of his own emotions was critically important to him. The only way he’d found to accomplish that was to avoid caring about much of anything. And that included sad, crying, beautiful women like Mara Ross.
She’s trouble.
Jared tried to turn away. He really did. But for some unknown reason, he found himself drawn to her sorrow like a magnet. His brain might be telling him to go before she noticed he was there, to let her sort things out herself. But instead, he found himself striding across the sand and to the rocks, making his way stealthily to the end of the stone edifice where she was sitting.
Face it, man. You’ve been screwed since the moment you saw her big brown eyes, genuine smile, and curvy figure. For some reason, she messes with your head, and you can no more walk away from her pain than you can stop breathing.
But dammit, he wanted to. Badly.
Sure, he liked a good fuck as much as any guy who was almost thirty years old. He made it a point to deliberately find women who wanted something from him other than emotion. He gave them whatever they wanted materially in return for a night of hot, pleasurable sex for him with no strings attached. Jared didn’t do relationships, and he didn’t do emotional entanglements. The women he screwed didn’t either. And he liked it that way.
Then what in the fuck am I doing here?
He halted behind Mara, wondering again if he was losing his mind along with his ever-present control. The rough seas were spraying his black jeans and button-down green shirt with moisture, slowly saturating his clothing. Mara looked like her jeans and T-shirt were already drenched, but as she stared blankly out at the Atlantic, Jared was pretty certain she hadn’t even noticed that her garments were soaked. Despair seemed to be rolling off her body in waves, and it reached out and wrapped around his icy heart with a vengeance.
Shit. This has to stop. Whatever her problem is, I’ll help her solve it. Then maybe I can get over this inexplicable obsession I have with her. She’s throwing me off balance, and I can’t afford to lose control.
Done fighting with himself, Jared admitted defeat just for the moment and made his way to her side, sitting down on the rain-soaked rock next to Mara. Plucking the glasses from her face, he tried to dry them on his semiwet shirt. “Very few things in life are worth crying over.” He’d learned that lesson a long time ago.
Startled, Mara finally jerked her head to the side to look at him, as though she was astonished to see him sitting next to her. “What are you doing out here?” she asked warily. “It’s going to start pouring again any minute now.” She glanced up at the approaching dark clouds.
Jared shrugged and perched her glasses carefully back on her nose. He could hardly tell her that she had drawn him here, that she’d pretty much seized him by the balls the minute she’d first spoken with him and had never let go—even though it was lamentably true. “I could ask you the same thing. This isn’t the safest place to be right now.”
Jared’s jaw clenched as her previous comment about the weather reminded him that the ocean was incredibly rough, and yet another violent storm looked to be coming their way. His eyes swept over her, and a raw possessiveness surged tempestuously over his entire body. Mara looked small and vulnerable, and he didn’t like it. Her dark eyes were swirling with sadness, and she wrapped her arms around her body protectively as she responded. “I wanted to think. This is where I come when I need to figure something out. Sometimes it makes me realize how small my problems are when I see how vast the ocean is.” She raised her voice so he could hear her over the loud surf slamming against the rocks.
Jared cringed at the vulnerability he could hear in her voice, wanting to snatch her up and take her somewhere—anywhere—to make her forget whatever her problems were. “And is it working?” Judging by her look of distress, it wasn’t.
“Not today,” she admitted with a large sigh, resting her elbows on her knees and clenching her fingers together, her gaze once again focused on the rough sea.
“Want to talk about it?” Jesus, I sound like Dr. Phil. When did he ever encourage anyone except his brothers and his sister to talk about anything emotional? And even that was rare. The Sinclairs weren’t exactly prone to spilling their guts to anyone, or wearing their emotions on their shirtsleeves. He and his siblings had been born wealthy, part of an elite class of old money. Showing any emotion except polite social behavior was prohibited, and that trait had been pounded into every one of them since birth. They were loyal but rarely demonstrative in their affection for one another, even though it was there.
Strangely, he still wanted Mara to talk about whatever was bothering her, even though he was pretty sure he’d have no idea how to respond. Wanting to know her thoughts was a very strange impulse for a guy like him.
What the hell was she doing to him—besides giving him a perpetual boner? As he chugged down the rest of his coffee, Jared realized that he really did want to know what was wrong so he could help her fix it. Maybe then he could get some damn peace, maybe he’d stop feeling compelled to wring every single detail of her life from her gorgeous, plump lips.
Jared watched as Mara shook her head, her damp, limp ponytail swaying behind her head. “I don’t really want to talk about it. We hardly know each other.”
Barely able to hear her, Jared moved closer, his thigh brushing against hers as he replied, “Sometimes it’s easier to talk to someone you don’t know, get an unbiased opinion.”
Then I can kill whoever is making you so damn unhappy. Problem solved.
Jared squirmed restlessly, unable to stop the incredibly uncomfortable protective instincts he was having toward a woman he barely knew. Truth was, he hated seeing Mara this way. The fact that she was obviously discouraged and unhappy was eating at him. Every time he’d visited her store in the last few weeks, she’d been unguarded and enthusiastic about helping him learn about the Sinclair history in Amesport, leading him to other sources to help him with his research. Hell, he’d just seen her yesterday, and she’d given him one of her bright, cheerful smiles—a genuine expression that told him she was glad to see him for no particular reason, a look he’d never had focused his way before by any woman other than his sister, Hope. In his world, almost everybody wanted something from him, and nobody was going to give without getting something in return. Mara Ross was pure light, and for a very short time, she’d illuminated the darkness that seemed to cling to him almost every waking minute of the day. She was so damn sweet, and always seemed so intoxicatingly innocent. When they had a conversation, he could sense that she was looking at him as a person, not a billionaire, her entire attention focused on helping him just because she wanted to. Not once had she expected anything in return. Those were traits that had Jared wanting to run the hell away from her as fast as he could, yet drew him inexplicably toward her at the same time. Something about her fascinated him, and for the first time in a long time, he was unable to exert the proper control to stop himself from exploring that unwelcome attraction.
After a long pause, she answered hesitantly, “Okay. Maybe you’re right. Maybe I do need to talk about it, and I don’t have anyone I can tell. I’m being evicted from my house. The owner is selling the property. I have to leave.” Continuing to stare out to sea, she clenched her fingers together tighter. “My grandmother ran the shop, then my mother, and now me. Everything I have left of them is going to be gone.”
Jared tensed. “You have a lease, right?”
“Nope,” she answered abruptly. “It’s always been a month-to-month rental. It’s been that way since my grandma had the house. There’s not even a written rental contract. The owners lived here in Amesport up until about twenty years ago. The house was passed from son to son. There was never any question about the rental of the property until the last son moved away. He hated it here.”
“We can find you a new place. The house isn’t safe anymore, Mara. It needs major renovation. The old place is like a ticking time bomb without complete renovation. Is the roof leaking from the rain?” Jared rasped gravely.
She looked at him, startled. “Yes. In a few places upstairs. How did you know?”
“I’m an architect. I can see the signs. How much repair have the owners done that you can remember?” Fuck. He hoped it was more than he suspected.
Her shoulders slumped as she replied, “Nothing that I can remember. The house needs a lot of work. I do what I can, but it’s been hard since my mother died, and the owner now refuses to do any work to the house. I guess because he never planned on keeping it.”
Jared knew from the town gossip circuit that Mara had lost her dad to a heart attack years ago, and her mother had just passed a little over a year ago. The shop wasn’t making money, probably hadn’t for years. Jared had already figured that out just by observation. Mara made incredible dolls, but how much could a doll shop really make in the current market? How many sales did it produce even during the busy summer months? Her rent for being on the main street in a coastal tourist town had to be sizable, even for a residence that was in desperate need of renovation. “You can find a new location,” he grunted, refusing to believe there wasn’t a solution to her problems. “You can’t stay there anyway if the roof is leaking. It’s not structurally sound.”
Mara shook her head slowly and shot him a weak, defeated smile. “There is no place else. And it wouldn’t be the same. I know I need to face reality. The business isn’t making a profit. I was going to have to let it go sooner or later.”
“What will you do?” Jared asked hoarsely.
Mara shrugged. “I’m not certain. Move to a bigger city. Find a job somewhere. Start over again. I guess that’s what I was thinking about. It’s just going to be really hard to leave Amesport.”
Oh, hell no. She can’t leave. Mara Ross’s family has been in Amesport for generations. She knows every historical fact about the town and is pretty much the unofficial town historian. She belongs here, dammit. She obviously loves it here.
Thunder rumbled ominously before Jared could reply. He stood quickly and held out his hand to Mara, worried about her being out in the elements as the storm blew in. She took it without hesitation and let him haul her to her feet.
“We need to find cover,” Jared ordered, urging her in front of him so they could get off the rocks and find protection from the rapidly approaching storm as quickly as possible.
She moved swiftly without saying another word, as though she’d navigated the rocks hundreds of times, which she probably had. Large droplets of rain started to fall, and she skidded once, but Jared wrapped an arm around her waist and led her off the rocks. Grabbing her hand as he dumped his paper coffee cup into the nearby trash, he pulled her with him as he ran for protection from the steadily growing strength of the rain.
By the time they reached the sidewalk by Shamrock’s Pub, they were both breathless. The two of them stood under the protective canopy of the local bar and gathering place, watching as the rain started coming down in sheets.
Mara’s eyes swept over him, and she laughed. It was a delighted, husky sound that made Jared instantly hard.
“You look almost human now,” she informed him merrily with a mischievous grin.
Affronted, Jared asked abruptly, “What did I look like before?”
Mara shrugged, looking embarrassed. “Perfect. You always look immaculate and perfect.”
Jared’s gaze surveyed her appearance, her soaked hair, her T-shirt nearly transparent and clinging to her body like a second skin. Her eyes were shining with an openness he wasn’t accustomed to as she looked up at him. Finally, he responded automatically, “You look beautiful.” He’d blurted the words out before he could censor them. Dammit. She did that to him, made him say whatever he was thinking before he could think about it.
She’s dangerous.
Looking at him skeptically, she replied, “I’ve heard you were a ladies’ man, but that description is more than a little over-the-top, don’t you think?”
He cringed inwardly. Being a billionaire and very much in the public eye, his every behavior was scrutinized. Okay. Yeah. He was always seen with a different woman clinging to his arm. Maybe he did go through his share of female companions, but it didn’t sit right with him for Mara to actually be pointing out the well-known fact that he was reputed to be a man-whore.
“I meant it,” he replied huskily, his eyes roving over her hungrily. He’d honestly never seen a woman more attractive than Mara was to him.
She crossed her arms and looked up at him disapprovingly. “In case you haven’t noticed . . . I’m a little too plump, short, and plain.”
She’s curvy, petite, and completely fuckable.
Jared felt a low, reverberating sound rising up in his throat. He didn’t like her making derogatory comments about herself. It pissed him off, especially since he didn’t think he’d ever been this drawn to a woman. He maneuvered her against the brick wall, trapping her body with his, which was probably a mistake. She smelled like fresh rain and vanilla, a scent that made his dick harder than he thought was possible. He raised a palm to her cheek and ran it down her silky, wet skin. “You’re soft and sweet, exactly the type of woman a man wants beneath him naked,” he told her bluntly. Her scent was driving him mad, and his control was definitely slipping. In his current state, he was having a very hard time not telling her that he desperately wanted to be the man on top of her, sinking his aching cock into her sweet, soft body.
Jared’s gaze locked with hers, and just for moment, there was nobody in the world but the two of them, their connection profound and unbreakable. Damned if he didn’t want to take her hard against the brick wall, her legs wrapped around his waist, and pound into her until they were both sated.
I have to fuck her or I’ll never get over this insane need. Somehow, he had to get her in his bed and have her until he got bored. Generally, that was directly after the first sexual encounter. His desire usually faded immediately after he bedded a woman, his interest gone.
Mara flushed bright pink as she stared up at him, shaking her head slowly. “You don’t have to charm me,” she informed him as she inched her way down the wall and away from his body.
“I’m not trying to be charming,” he rasped irritably, damning his reputation to hell right at the moment. He might like women, but he was never, ever charming. He laid out the score before he ever fucked a woman, the deal struck before their bodies hit the bed. Women always wanted something from him, and it was never him or his body. It was always monetary in some way, although he’d never had a woman leave a session of hot sex unsatisfied. He made damn sure he got them off before he fucked them.
“I think you are charming when you want to be,” Mara mused as she moved to the edge of the awning, looking like she was contemplating whether or not she wanted to sprint across the street to her shop. “Beatrice and Elsie told me you were a very sweet boy. That’s definitely a compliment coming from those two, and a testament to how charismatic you can be. I have a feeling it comes naturally to you.”
“Then you don’t know me,” Jared grumbled, not happy that the two elderly women, the town gossip and the matchmaker, had referred to him as a damn boy. He liked Elsie and Beatrice, enjoyed listening to their stories and banter. But that didn’t prove that he was the least bit amiable. Truthfully, he was usually an asshole. But he couldn’t be that way with two aged women like Elsie and Beatrice. The pair of old ladies amused him, and even he wasn’t that big of a dick.
Mara turned back to him. “You’re right. I don’t know you. And I have no right to make any assumptions. I’m just trying to tell you that I’ve enjoyed our few conversations and I already like you. You don’t need to throw me false compliments. I appreciate your concern about my home. I really do. I guess I’m just not used to it.” She hesitated before adding, “Not from a guy, anyway.”
Holy hell. Did she think he was trying to blow smoke up her ass when he told her that he found her attractive?
“Get used to it. I’m going to help you whether you want my help or not. You need it.” He clenched his fists to keep from reaching out to snatch her up and hold her damp body against his until flames of desire dried them and set them both on fire.
Every instinct he had was clawing at him to comfort her or fuck her, but his brain knew that she’d run like hell if he tried to do either one of those things. Besides, what the hell did he know about comforting anybody? His experiences with women were like business arrangements. He’d learned a long time ago that it was better that way.
“Why do you even want to help me?” Mara looked up at him, wide-eyed and curious. “We aren’t exactly friends. You hardly know me.”
“I plan on getting to know you extremely well,” he informed her calmly, even though he was picturing her naked beneath him, screaming his name as she climaxed. Hell yeah, he wanted to know her . . . intimately. His fixation with her wasn’t going to go away until he did.
“I doubt we’ll ever get to know each other well at all. You’re only visiting here.”
True, his home on the Amesport Peninsula wasn’t his primary residence. But really, he didn’t actually have a home. He had houses all over the world, some he spent more time in than others, but they were just real estate. He’d initially come here to see his injured brother, Dante, but he’d lingered long after his police detective brother had recovered from his gunshot wounds. Dante was getting married to a local physician and taking a position with the police department here. “I’ll be here. I’m staying until after Dante’s wedding.”
“Just a few more weeks,” she reminded him, her brows narrowing in concentration, as though she was trying to figure out his motives.
She might as well give up trying to figure me out. I can’t even reason out my own idiotic behavior right now.
“I’ll be here,” he repeated ominously.
Mara blinked rapidly, her eyes growing moist. “I appreciate the offer, Mr. Sinclair, but my problems are my own to solve.”
Jared nearly growled when he saw the stubborn tilt of her chin and thought about her taking on the dismal situation all by herself. “Jared.”
She nodded. “Jared. Thank you for the offer, but this is something I have to deal with on my own. My entire life is going to have to change, and so am I.” She turned around without another word and sprinted across the street. Scurrying up the few steps to her door, she pushed against the wood and disappeared inside the house, never looking back.
I don’t want her to change. She’s perfect just the way she is now.
The sound of his name in her husky come-do-me voice had nearly tipped Jared over the edge, and he had to force himself not to follow her, grasping the wooden post that was supporting the overhang of Shamrock’s to make his feet stay planted.
Christ. I am becoming a damn stalker.
Shaking his head in irritation as he stared at her door long after she had disappeared, he slowly made his way to his black Mercedes SUV, a vehicle that usually just sat in the garage of his Amesport home, his gut still gnawing at him to go after her.
Patience. I have to have some patience with her. I need my damn control back.
Restraint was something he had very little of at the moment, and his time to help Mara Ross was limited. Eventually she’d hate him. It was inevitable.
As Jared seated himself in his vehicle, he gripped the steering wheel hard and closed his eyes with a tortured groan, the thrum of the rain beating against his windshield almost sounding like a ticking clock.
How long will it take before she finds out the truth?
Jared opened his eyes and started the engine, realizing that he didn’t have the fucking time to sit around moping. It wouldn’t be long before Mara found out that he was the buyer of her beloved home and shop, the bastard ultimately responsible for her losing everything she cared about.
He hadn’t planned on her finding out quite this quickly. Obviously, the damn irresponsible owner had jumped the gun.
As he did a quick U-turn from the curb he was parked on, heading back to his home on the Peninsula, he remembered his thoughts about just destroying whoever was causing her problems. Ironically, if he was going to deal with the situation that way, he’d have no one to kill . . . except himself.