Stranger in the Moonlight by Jude Deveraux Page B

he were a tradesman using the wrong entrance. If Lucy looked at him like that too . . .
    “I’ll go to a motel,” he told himself.
    The house was big, and as Jecca had said, it was set in a beautiful garden. The house needed a bit of work here and there, but it was in good shape.
    He got his old suitcase out of the truck, took a deep breath, and went inside. The house was so girly inside he felt like he was entering a harem—and he sure as hell wasn’t the sheik.
    He stood at the foot of the stairs a moment and listened. Just as Jecca had said, he could hear a sewing machine running. It was a sweet sound to a man like him whose whole life had been about tools.
    He slowly climbed the stairs and when he got to the top a pretty woman with her arms full of what looked like dresses for baby angels ran smack into him. Hard. She would have bounced off his chest and landed on the floor if Joe hadn’t caught her arm and pulled her up. He was pleased to see that she had strength in her legs, good reflexes, and she was very flexible. She came up so fast her soft front was pressed against Joe’s wide, hard chest.
    For a moment time stood still. They looked into each other’s eyes and they knew . Just plain knew .
    “I assume you’re Joe and I need your help,” Lucy said as she stepped away from him. “Harry’s acting up and a table leg is wonky and I need help cutting. Put your suitcase there and follow me.”
    She bent over to pick up the little white dresses, and he admired her lithe, firm figure. She stopped in the doorway. “Come on. We haven’t got all day.” She disappeared into the room.
    Joe stood there for a moment and it struck him that he and his son might be more alike than he thought. “I love bossy women,” he said aloud, then followed Lucy into the sewing room.

Five

    Kim was in her shop, showing some rings she’d made last summer to a young married couple. They were in town just for the day and couldn’t stop talking about how “quaint” Edilean was. The word always made Kim smile. Her cousin’s wife, Tess, said they should put up a sign on the road into town saying WE AIN’T QUAINT .
    Kim tried to give her attention back to the couple, who she felt sure were going to buy an inexpensive piece.
    “Which one do you like best?” the girl asked Kim as she gazed at the tray containing six rings.
    She wanted to tell the truth, that she liked them all, since she had designed everything in the shop. “It all depends on what you like, but I think—”
    There was the whoosh of the door opening, and she heard Carla draw in her breath. That was her “man sound,” as Carla was always on the make.
    Kim looked up to see Travis standing in the doorway. He had on a forest green shirt and jeans, and with his dark hair and eyes he looked as virile as any man ever had. He seemed to exude masculinity, as though it were an aura around him.
    “I am in love,” Carla said under her breath as she moved next to Kim. Since Travis had eyes only for Kim, Carla added, “Please tell me he’s one of your relatives so he’s available to the rest of us.”
    Kim didn’t answer as she gave her attention back to the couple—but the girl was looking at Travis, and her young husband was frowning. Customers lost, Kim thought.
    Travis came forward and stopped close to the young woman. When she smiled at him, he smiled back.
    “I think we should go,” the young man said, but his wife ignored him.
    “I see you in aquamarines,” Travis said in a voice Kim had never heard him use before. It was soft and sultry, silky.
    “Really?” the girl asked, sounding about fourteen.
    “With your eyes, what else could you wear?”
    The young woman wasn’t especially pretty and her eyes were a nondescript brown. On the other hand, the ring Travis was nodding toward was one of the most expensive in the shop.
    “I’ve never thought of wearing aquamarines before.” Turning, she batted her eyelashes at her husband. “What do you think,