Sanctuary by Nora Roberts

first fork. Sanctuary isn’t far—but then nothing is on Desire.”
    â€œThat’s handy. I’m heading to Sanctuary myself.”
    â€œOh?” The air in the cab was thick and heavy. The driving rain seemed to cut them off from everything, misting out the trees, muffling all the sound. Reason enough to be uncomfortable, she told herself, but she was sufficiently annoyed with her reaction to angle her head and meet his eyes directly. “Are you staying at the big house?”
    â€œNo, just picking up keys for the cottage I’m renting.”
    â€œFor six months, you said?” It relieved her when he began to drive, turned those intense gray eyes away from her face and focused on the road. “That’s a long vacation.”
    â€œI brought work with me. I wanted a change of scene for a while.”
    â€œDesire’s a long way from home,” she said, then smiled a little when he glanced at her. “Anyone from Georgia can spot a Yankee. Even if you keep your mouth shut, you move differently.” She pushed her wet hair back. If she’d walked, Jo thought, she’d have been spared making conversation. But talk was better than the heavy, raindrenched silence. “You’ve got Little Desire Cottage, by the river.”
    â€œHow do you know?”
    â€œOh, everybody knows everything around here. But my family rents the cottages, runs them and the inn, the restaurant. As it happens I was assigned Little Desire, stocked the linens and so forth just yesterday for the Yankee who’s coming to stay for six months.”
    â€œSo you’re my mechanic, landlord, and housekeeper. I’m a lucky man. Who exactly do I call if my sink backs up?”
    â€œYou open the closet and take out the plunger. If you need instructions for use, I’ll write them down for you. Here’s the fork.”
    Nathan bore right and climbed. “Let’s try that again. If I wanted to grill a couple of steaks, chill a bottle of wine, and invite you to dinner, who would I call?”
    Jo turned her head and gave him a cool look. “You’d have better luck with my sister. Her name is Alexa.”
    â€œDoes she fix carburetors?”
    With a half laugh, Jo shook her head. “No, but she’s very decorative and enjoys invitations from men.”
    â€œAnd you don’t?”
    â€œLet’s just say I’m more selective than Lexy.”
    â€œOuch.” Whistling, Nathan rubbed a hand over his heart. “Direct hit.”
    â€œJust saving us both some time. There’s Sanctuary,” she murmured.
    He watched it appear through the curtain of rain, swim out of the thin mists that curled at its base. It was old and grand, as elegant as a Southern Belle dressed for company. Definitely feminine, Nate thought, with those fluid lines all in virginal white. Tall windows were softened by arched trim, and pretty ironwork adorned balconies where flowers bloomed out of clay pots of soft red.
    Her gardens glowed, the blooms heavy-headed with rain, like bowing fairies at her feet.
    â€œStunning,” Nathan said, half to himself. “The more recent additions blend perfectly with the original structure. Accent rather than modernize. It’s a masterful harmony of styles, classically southern without being typical. It couldn’t be more perfect if the island had been designed for it rather than it being designed for the island.”
    Nathan stopped at the end of the drive before he noticed that Jo was staring at him. For the first time there was curiosity in her eyes.
    â€œI’m an architect,” he explained. “Buildings like this grab me right by the throat.”
    â€œWell, then, you’ll probably want a tour of the inside.”
    â€œI’d love one, and I’d owe you at least one steak dinner for that.”
    â€œYou’ll want my cousin Kate to show you around. She’s a Pendleton,” Jo added as she opened her