coffee table that was
made of no more than a slab sliced off the end of what must have been agiant oak tree, bark still trimming its edges, all of it gleaming beneath thick layers
of clear shellac. The floors were hardwood, and woven rugs were scattered here and
there for accents.
“This is the living room, and you can see the dining room from here. Basically, it’s
the same thing.” He pointed, she nodded. A large table and chairs held court in the
opposite half of this room, their backdrop a row of large windows, and not a curtain
in sight. Holden led her over there, and stopped beside those windows.
“Best view on the place,” he said.
She nodded in agreement. The windows looked out onto the lake, spreading wide and
deep beneath a clear blue sky. Surrounded on all sides, as far as she could tell,
by wilderness. Not a smokestack, not a building, not a highway or a telephone pole
in sight. “This place is incredible.”
“I agree.” He nodded toward a doorway with a pair of bat-wing doors its only barrier.
“Through there is the kitchen, and there’s a pantry and a bathroom off that.” Then
he led her back across the sprawling living room, past the staircase, to the door
on the opposite side. “Through here is a bedroom and another bath. And there are two
more bedrooms upstairs.”
“It’s incredible,” she said. “I could be content to stay here forever.”
She felt his eyes on her, and looked up to see him staring at her with a look that
made her stomach tighten in response. Her cheeks heated, and she lowered her eyes.
She was going to sleep with him. Why did that seem to be the only thing she could
think about?
“I, um, I’ll get our bags,” he said.
She nodded. “Good. I’m ready to get out of this dress and into a pair of jeans.”
He turned, halfway to the front door, and stared back at her. “You were beautiful
today, you know. Prettiest bride I ever saw.”
Why was he being so damned nice to her? “Thanks, Holden. That’s very sweet.”
“Wasn’t trying to be sweet,” he replied, heading once again for the door. “Just honest.”
Then he was gone, and she was left to wonder how she was supposed to go through with
her not-so-nice little plan when he was trying to make her think he was some kind
of saint.
Six
W hen Holden carried the luggage into the cabin, Lucy was nowhere in sight. But he could
hear footsteps, light and quick, coming from above. She must be exploring on her own.
He’d thought of bringing her here to give her time to prepare for the moment when
she’d have to return with him to face his family—to tell them she was now a Fortune,
too. It could be, he realized, a daunting experience. And he didn’t want to push it
on her until she felt ready.
He didn’t want to push anything on her at all. Which was why he intended to honor
his agreement to keep his hands to himself. He wasn’t going to touch her, or seduce
her, or ever mention again that he felt anything beyond friendship for her. Because
he didn’t want her to start caring back. He didn’t want to ruin her life the way his
father had ruined his mother’s.
He carried the cases upstairs, through the hall, and poked his head around the corner
of the open bedroom door. “Find a room you like?”
She’d been standing near the window, gazing out at the lake, but she turned to face
him and nodded. “I can see the lake from the bed in this one.”
“Then this is the one you get,” he said, and set her overnight bag on the foot of
the bed. But then he stared at the soft white comforter for a moment. It wasrumpled, as if she’d lain upon it for a moment. And he could picture her lying there
again…her hair mussed and her eyes sleepy.
“Holden?”
“Hmm?” He didn’t look at her, couldn’t drag his gaze from the mental image of her
in that bed, staring up at him with longing in her eyes. “Damn,” he whispered.
Then she was
made of no more than a slab sliced off the end of what must have been agiant oak tree, bark still trimming its edges, all of it gleaming beneath thick layers
of clear shellac. The floors were hardwood, and woven rugs were scattered here and
there for accents.
“This is the living room, and you can see the dining room from here. Basically, it’s
the same thing.” He pointed, she nodded. A large table and chairs held court in the
opposite half of this room, their backdrop a row of large windows, and not a curtain
in sight. Holden led her over there, and stopped beside those windows.
“Best view on the place,” he said.
She nodded in agreement. The windows looked out onto the lake, spreading wide and
deep beneath a clear blue sky. Surrounded on all sides, as far as she could tell,
by wilderness. Not a smokestack, not a building, not a highway or a telephone pole
in sight. “This place is incredible.”
“I agree.” He nodded toward a doorway with a pair of bat-wing doors its only barrier.
“Through there is the kitchen, and there’s a pantry and a bathroom off that.” Then
he led her back across the sprawling living room, past the staircase, to the door
on the opposite side. “Through here is a bedroom and another bath. And there are two
more bedrooms upstairs.”
“It’s incredible,” she said. “I could be content to stay here forever.”
She felt his eyes on her, and looked up to see him staring at her with a look that
made her stomach tighten in response. Her cheeks heated, and she lowered her eyes.
She was going to sleep with him. Why did that seem to be the only thing she could
think about?
“I, um, I’ll get our bags,” he said.
She nodded. “Good. I’m ready to get out of this dress and into a pair of jeans.”
He turned, halfway to the front door, and stared back at her. “You were beautiful
today, you know. Prettiest bride I ever saw.”
Why was he being so damned nice to her? “Thanks, Holden. That’s very sweet.”
“Wasn’t trying to be sweet,” he replied, heading once again for the door. “Just honest.”
Then he was gone, and she was left to wonder how she was supposed to go through with
her not-so-nice little plan when he was trying to make her think he was some kind
of saint.
Six
W hen Holden carried the luggage into the cabin, Lucy was nowhere in sight. But he could
hear footsteps, light and quick, coming from above. She must be exploring on her own.
He’d thought of bringing her here to give her time to prepare for the moment when
she’d have to return with him to face his family—to tell them she was now a Fortune,
too. It could be, he realized, a daunting experience. And he didn’t want to push it
on her until she felt ready.
He didn’t want to push anything on her at all. Which was why he intended to honor
his agreement to keep his hands to himself. He wasn’t going to touch her, or seduce
her, or ever mention again that he felt anything beyond friendship for her. Because
he didn’t want her to start caring back. He didn’t want to ruin her life the way his
father had ruined his mother’s.
He carried the cases upstairs, through the hall, and poked his head around the corner
of the open bedroom door. “Find a room you like?”
She’d been standing near the window, gazing out at the lake, but she turned to face
him and nodded. “I can see the lake from the bed in this one.”
“Then this is the one you get,” he said, and set her overnight bag on the foot of
the bed. But then he stared at the soft white comforter for a moment. It wasrumpled, as if she’d lain upon it for a moment. And he could picture her lying there
again…her hair mussed and her eyes sleepy.
“Holden?”
“Hmm?” He didn’t look at her, couldn’t drag his gaze from the mental image of her
in that bed, staring up at him with longing in her eyes. “Damn,” he whispered.
Then she was
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