Second-Chance Seduction

Stop whining. Just turn around and walk away before it’s too late.

If she had a choice, she would take her own subliminal advice and hightail it out of there. She’d taken a big risk coming here and now she was regretting it with every step she took. Hadn’t she spent half of her life avoiding risks? So why in the world was she here?

Because she didn’t have a choice. She was desperate. Truly, completely desperate. Connor MacLaren was her last hope.

But he hates you, and for good reason. Walk away. Walk away.

“Oh, shut up!”

Susan stopped and turned. “Is something wrong, Ms. James?”

Yes, something’s wrong! That’s not my real name! Maggie wanted to shout, but instead she flashed a bright smile. “No, absolutely nothing.”

As soon as the woman continued walking, Maggie rolled her eyes. Not only was she talking to herself, but now she was arguing with herself, too. Out loud. This couldn’t be a good sign.

Her life truly had descended to the lowest rung of the pits of hell, not to be overly dramatic about it.

Even the cheery receptionist had caught on to the desperation vibe that hung on Maggie like a bad suit. She had taken one look at Maggie’s faded blue jeans and ancient suede jacket, and smiled at her with so much sympathy in her eyes that Maggie wouldn’t be surprised to have the woman slip her a ten-dollar bill on her way out.

Treat yourself to a hot meal, sweetie, Maggie imagined the woman whispering kindly.

Unquestionably, Maggie had been hiding out in the remote hills of Marin for way too long. Glancing down at her serviceable old jacket and jeans, she realized that she’d lost the ability to dress for success. Her boots were ancient. She hadn’t been to a beauty spa in more than three years. True, she hadn’t exactly turned into a cave dweller, but she certainly wasn’t on top of her fashion game, either. And while that wasn’t a bad thing as far as Maggie was concerned, it was probably a mistake not to have factored it in when she was about to go face-to-face with one of Northern California’s top power brokers.

The man whose heart everyone believed she’d broken ten years ago.

Someday she would find out why Connor had allowed everyone in town to believe it was her fault they’d broken up all those years ago. It wasn’t true, of course. They’d had what could charitably be called a mutual parting of the ways. She could remember their last conversation as if had happened yesterday because Maggie was the one who’d ended up with a broken heart. Her life had changed drastically after that, and not in a good way.

Why had her old friends turned their backs on her and blamed her for hurting Connor so badly? Had he lied about it after she left town? It didn’t seem like something Connor would have done, but she had been away such a long time. Maybe he had changed.

Maggie shook her head. She would never understand men and she wasn’t even sure she wanted to. But someday she would ask him why he did it. Not today, though, when she had so many bigger problems to deal with. She didn’t dare take the risk.

Turn around. Walk away.

“Here we are,” Susan the receptionist said cheerfully as she came to a stop in front of another set of intimidating double doors. “Please go right in, Ms. James. He’s expecting you.”

No, he isn’t! He’s not expecting a liar!

Maggie smiled stiffly. “Thank you, Susan.”

The woman walked away and Maggie faced the closed doors. She could feel her heart pounding against her ribs. The urge to walk—no, run—away was visceral. But she’d come this far on sheer nerves, so there was no way she would walk away now. Besides, even if she did try to leave, she’d never find her way out of this office maze.

“Just get it over with,” she muttered, and praying for strength, she pushed on the door. It opened silently, gliding across the thick carpeting.

At her first glimpse of Connor, Maggie’s throat tightened. She tried to swallow, but it was no use. She would just have to live with this tender, emotional lump in her throat forever.

He sat with complete ease behind an enormous cherry wood desk, unaware that he was being watched as he read over some sort of document.

She was glad now that she’d made the appointment to see him here in his San Francisco office instead of facing him down back home. Not only would she avoid the gossip that would’ve invariably erupted when people found out she’d been spotted at the MacLaren Brewery, but she also would’ve missed seeing him backlit by the gorgeous skyline of San Francisco. Somehow he fit in here as well as he did back home.

For a long moment, she simply reveled at the sight of him. He had always been the most handsome boy she’d ever known, so how was it possible that he was even more gorgeous now than she remembered? He was a man now, tall, with wide shoulders and long legs. His dark, wavy hair was an inch or two longer than was currently fashionable, especially for a power broker like him. She had always loved his remarkable dark blue eyes, his strong jawline, his dazzling smile. His face was lightly tanned from working outside, and his well-shaped hands and long fingers were magical...

A wave of longing swept through her at the thought of Connor’s hands and what he was capable of doing with them.

Maggie sighed inwardly. Lovemaking was one aspect of their relationship that had always been perfect. Yes, Connor had taken too many foolish risks with his extreme sports, and yes, Maggie’s fears for his safety had driven her crazy sometimes and had ultimately led to their breakup. But when it came to romance, theirs had been a match made in heaven.

Maggie remembered her grandpa Angus saying that the MacLaren brothers had done well for themselves. Now, observing Connor in this luxury penthouse office, she could see that Grandpa’s comment had been a gross understatement. She probably had no right to feel this much pride in the brothers’ accomplishments, but she felt it anyway.

At the thought of her grandfather, Maggie dragged her wandering mind back to the task at hand. Grandpa Angus was the main reason she was daring to show her face here today.

Connor hadn’t noticed her yet, and for one more fleeting moment, she thought about turning and running away. He would never have to know she had been here and she would never have to experience the look of anger and maybe pain in his eyes. And he would never know to what extent she’d been willing to risk humiliating herself. But it was too late for all that. She had been running from her mistakes ever since she first left Connor, and it was time to stop.

“Hello, Connor,” she said at long last, hoping he couldn’t hear the nerves jangling in her voice.

He looked up and stared at her for a long moment. Had she changed so much that he didn’t even recognize her? But then one of his eyebrows quirked up, and not in a “happy to see you” kind of way.

He pushed his chair away from the desk and folded his arms across his muscular chest. After another lengthy, highly charged moment, during which he never broke eye contact with her, he finally drawled, “Hello, Mary Margaret.”

The sound of his deep voice made the hairs on her arms stand at attention. Amazingly, he still retained a hint of a Scottish accent, even though he’d lived in Northern California since he was in grade school.

Anxious, but determined not to show it, she took a few steps forward. “How are you?” Her voice cracked again and she wanted to sink into the carpet, but she powered forward with a determined smile.

“I’m busy.” He made a show of checking his watch, then stood. “I’m about to go into a meeting, so I’m afraid I don’t have time to talk right now. But thanks for stopping by, Maggie.”

She deserved that, deserved to have him blow her off, but it hurt anyway. She took slow, even breaths in an effort to maintain her dignity, for she had no intention of leaving. “Your meeting is with me, Connor.”

He smiled patiently, as though she were a recalcitrant five-year-old. “No, it’s not. Believe me, I would never have agreed to meet with you.”

She said nothing as she watched him study her for several long seconds until she saw the moment when realization struck.

“Ah, I get it,” he said evenly. “So you’re Taylor James. Inventive name.”

“Thank you,” Maggie murmured, even though she could tell by his tone that he wasn’t the least bit impressed by her cleverness. She’d managed to use part of her real last name and had come up with a first name that could be male or female. She tugged her jacket closer. Had the temperature dropped in here? Probably not, but she felt a chill right down to her bones.

“Why the subterfuge, Maggie?”

She kept her tone as casual as she could manage. “I wanted to see if I could make it in the business without leaning on my family name.” It was the same lie she’d been telling herself for the past three years she’d been back in Point Cairn. The truth was too embarrassing to admit.

“How intrepid of you,” he said dryly.

She watched for a smile or even a scowl, but Connor revealed nothing but indifference. No real emotion at all. She had anticipated something more from him. Hurt. Anger. Rage, even. She could’ve accepted that. But Connor didn’t appear to be fazed one way or the other by anything she said or did.

That’s where the chill came from. She shivered again.

But honestly, what did she expect? Happy hugs? Not likely since she’d found out that he’d considered her departure such a betrayal. But if his current mood was any indication, he had obviously moved on long ago.

And so did you, she reminded herself.

He circled his desk and leaned his hip against the smooth wood edge. “I heard you’ve been back in town for a while now. Funny how we’ve never run into each other.”