The House on Blackberry Hill: Jewell Cove #1 (Jewel Cove) by Donna Alward Page B

leads right down to the old kitchens.”
    “Old kitchens?” Her nose wrinkled as she frowned. It looked adorable. She even had a few little freckles across the bridge, making her look younger than he knew she must be.
    The tense moment passed and Tom let out a slow breath of gratitude, willing his thoughts to stay on task. “You haven’t been down there yet, either? Where did you think they cooked the meals? Certainly not on the main floor in that tiny, cramped space. The basement will be where the old kitchens are. And the staff wouldn’t have used the main staircase, either. Come on. It’s got to be here somewhere.”
    They found the door behind a large set of bookshelves that were piled with games, magazines, and sewing supplies. For several minutes they emptied the shelves and then Tom braced his hands on the sides. “It’s too big to lift. We’re going to have to push it out of the way.”
    Inch by inch they moved it along the wall. Tom’s muscles strained as he put his shoulder into it. Finally they got past the door hinges and he tried the knob. Locked.
    “Dammit,” he said, panting.
    “Wait here. I’ll be right back.” Abby rushed off but within moments her feet pounded on the stairs again.
    “Keys!” she announced, triumphantly shaking a ring holding a cluster of old keys. “I found them in a drawer downstairs. I’ll bet one of these will fit.” Breathless, she handed him the ring.
    He hit pay dirt on the third try. The lock snicked back and the door swung open to reveal a small landing and then a staircase that turned and disappeared. He held out his hand. “You coming?”
    “There are spiders in there.”
    “Probably. I’ll kill them for you.” He grinned at her. God, he loved old houses. And the little boy in him was thrilled with secret passages and sea chests, even if the only treasure uncovered so far was some old dresses. It reminded him of the old days when he and Josh and Bryce had thought to go looking for the legendary buried treasure at Fiddler’s Rock. “Come on, Abby, where’s your sense of adventure?” He wiggled his fingers.
    She seemed to consider for a long moment, but finally put her hand in his. Her fingers were soft and cool to the touch. Her hand was a lady’s hand, and something dark and forbidden seemed to curl through him as he led her through the doorway to the landing and the steps beyond. It was cool and dark in the stairway, utterly silent except for the sound of their steps and it felt ridiculously like sneaking around. It was the kind of hidden place that lent itself to forbidden kisses and late-night liaisons. The farther down they went, the tighter her fingers grasped his. This was the second time he’d held Abby’s hand and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d done something as simple as hold hands with a woman before Miss Abigail Foster came to town. When was the last time he’d been so very aware of a woman?
    He wanted her house. He did not want her, he reminded himself. Except that he did. In the confined darkness of the stairway, he wanted to press her body into the cool wall and feel her slowly melt against him. He wanted to bury his fingers in her sweet-smelling hair and taste her soft, unpainted lips.
    Jesus, he had to stop thinking this way. He planned to work for her. Besides, Abby wasn’t the type of girl you seduced and walked away from, and after Erin, he wasn’t ready to take the risk of something more. Especially on someone who had made it clear that she wasn’t hanging around.
    Unsettled, he led on until they reached the bottom of the stairs and were faced with another broad door. He reached inside his pocket for the key ring and searched for the right one.
    With a breath of relief, Tom swung the door open and pulled Abby into the musty kitchen.
    *   *   *
    Abby’s relief at being out of the claustrophobic column of the stairwell was brief. As Tom turned to lead her into the kitchen, her heart stopped. Over Tom’s