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   He sighed heavily. “Mary Catherine.”
 
 
Chapter Four

   What the fuck?    Sasha knew she shouldn’t be angry at Cole; there was no way he’d known she was going to show up and ruin what she knew would be an earth-shattering orgasm. But the fact was, she was angry and he was the closest person to her.
   She put her hands on her hips. Sasha had been too hesitant and unsure to say anything when Cole’s ex unexpectedly dropped by the morning after she and Cole had slept together for the first time. But that was then and this was now. And now she was not hesitant or unsure. “Is it like a game your ex-girlfriends have? Trying to see how many times they can cock-block us? Do they get bonus points if they see me naked?”
   “Sasha,” Cole said.
   “Hello!” the perky voice from outside said. “I hear voices.”
   Sasha rolled her eyes.
   Seconds later, a petite woman with gray-streaked strawberry blond hair appeared in the doorway. “I thought I saw someone in here.”
   But the blonde didn’t pay Sasha any attention. She had eyes only for Cole.
   “Cole Johnson,” she said, obviously not caring about her cold reception. “I heard you’d bought this place and then I saw the strange car yesterday. I put two and two together and decided to come say hi.”
   “Hi,” Sasha said, but Mary Catherine didn’t even look her way.
   “I tried the house and no one answered, but the car was still outside, so I took a chance you’d be down here.” She threw her hands up. “And here you are!”
   “How are you, Mary Catherine?” Cole asked.
   The blonde looked entirely too pleased to be the focus of his attention. Her cheeks actually flushed. “Good. I’m good. How are you?”
   “I’m well, thank you.”
   “I can’t believe you’re back. Are you here for good?”
   He moved to stand by Sasha’s side and slipped an arm around her shoulders. “No, actually. We’re just here for a week or so. This is my Sasha. Sasha, this is Mary Catherine. We grew up together; she was the vicar’s daughter.”
   He spoke it all very calmly, giving no indication that he’d ever breathed a word about Mary Catherine before this introduction.
   The woman still didn’t look her way. “Married?”

   Cole shook his head. “Not in so many words.”
   She frowned at that. “In any words?”
   “In the ones that matter.” Cole stroked Sasha’s collar, perhaps to see if the other woman noticed and would have a clue to its meaning.
   From all appearances, she didn’t seem to. “I was married. We divorced last year.”
   “I’m sorry to hear that.”
   Mary Catherine laughed. “I’m sure as hell not. He was an arse and a bore. I was glad to get rid of him. Do you have any kids? I have three.”
   “No. No, children.”
   Now she looked at Sasha. “That’s too bad. Infertility?”
   “Nothing of the sort. Just not ready to give up the hot-as-hell sex. Plus, I hear your boobs get flabby. And you have to deal with diapers and colic and driving and college. And did I mention I’m not ready to give up the hot-as-hell sex?”
   Cole coughed, obviously trying to cover up his laugh. But in front of them, Mary Catherine’s eyes blazed.
   “I think that’s just selfish,” she said.
   Sasha shrugged. “That’s because you’ve never had sex so good it lasts for days and an orgasm so intense you black out.” Her work here was done. She patted Cole’s chest. “I’ll leave you two old friends to catch up. I’ll be waiting for you in the dining room, naked. We still have to christen the table.”
   ***
   “She’s lovely,” Mary Catherine said, sarcasm dripping from her voice.
   “She’s incredible.” Cole watched Sasha’s retreating backside with a combination of pride and desire. Holy hell, she was sexy as fuck when she put Mary Catherine in her place.
   “Is that really what you look for in a woman?”
   Cole bit back the angry reply and asked calmly, “Why are you here, Mary Catherine?”
   “I told you, to welcome you back home.”
   “This is not home. This is an investment property. Home is in the States, where I’ll be returning in less than a week.”
   She didn’t appear to give his remark any thought. Instead, she walked around the barn, looking over everything. “Lots of memories here. Do you remember?”
   “Of course.” He needed her to leave; he had a hot date waiting in the dining room. “Come on. Let me walk you to your car.”
   “Don’t I even get a hug? For old time’s sake?”
   “No, I’m afraid not.” He started walking to the barn door.
   “She doesn’t let you touch other women? Is she afraid she’ll lose you?”
   That was enough. He stopped dead in his tracks, turned around, and gave her the look that had earned him the nickname Badass Brit. Mary Catherine’s eyes grew wide with shock.
   He spoke slowly, “If you were a bloke, you’d already be knocked out on the floor for being so disrespectful toward Sasha. She is the best thing that ever happened to me and no one—I repeat, no one—will disrespect her. The best thing you can do is go back to your house and your children, and leave her alone. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m needed in my dining room.”
   He left her standing there, and didn’t look back to see if she stayed or left herself. Good Lord, he could have slapped his thirteen-year-old self. He used to fancy that? With a renewed purpose, he quickened his stride and made his way to the house. Once inside, he made a beeline to the dining room, only to find it empty.