The Vixen and the Vet by Katy Regnery Page B

attraction between them. But was she prepared to share the nitty-gritty of her relationship with Asher? And, most troubling to her, would he object?
    She shrugged away her concerns. He’d given her permission to interview him, right? How she chose to portray the content of their conversations was her decision, right? Of course , and of course. Anyway, she hadn’t even started the next part of the piece yet. If, at some point, she felt that her story was somehow trespassing on his privacy, she could share it with him then. There was simply no need to bring it up tonight.
    A ll thoughts of her article and her feelings and her confusion and nerves turned to awe as the grove came into view. Much to Savannah’s surprise and delight, the grove turned out to be a rustic dining pavilion set in the middle of an apple orchard about a five-minute walk through the woods from the main house.
    On a brick patio sat a large wooden table in light wood with six comfortable chairs. Adjacent was a seating area with a love seat, two easy chairs, and a low, rustic table set before an outdoor fireplace.
    At each corner of the patio stood an authentic-looking totem pole, and from the tops of the poles, metal bars extended diagonally up to the center, all four bars meeting over the middle of the pavilion, where a deer antler chandelier cast soft light over the entire area. You could tent the whole area with those poles if you chose, but tonight they were wrapped with tiny white twinkle lights that gave the entire setup a fairy-tale quality.
    “Oh, Asher,” she said, meeting his eyes as he lifted the picnic basket to the table. “It’s breathtaking.”
    ***
    Yes , he thought, staring at her face in the soft light of dusk. It is.
    He hadn’t been able to hold her hand as they trekked through the woods since he’d been holding the basket , and for the first time since they’d started meeting, he wasn’t wearing his prosthesis. It was okay, though. He’d sensed her skittishness as they left his office, and frankly he was feeling a little out of his depth too. He hadn’t asked a woman out in over ten years, and though he hadn’t called it a date, it was pretty clear that’s what it was, wasn’t it?
    Or was it? He was pretty sure she’d been jealous of his nonexistent lover last weekend. They held hands easily now , and she’d even kissed his cheek on Monday afternoon. But just about all those gestures could fall under the behavior of close friends. And though he loved his growing friendship with Savannah Carmichael, he wanted far more from her, and tonight was his first move toward making that happen.
    He took his iPod out of his pocket and plugged it into the docking station that connected to an outdoor audio system. A moment later, soft music filled the grove.
    Her face tilted up, smiling in wonder, as she took in the details.
    “Did you build this place?” she finally asked.
    He shook his head. “Not entirely. My grandfather built the patio and fireplace back in the fifties. My father added the totem poles and beams. There’s a mesh tent and a full tent that can be added to the poles to ward off bugs or the elements. I added the electricity and decided to split the patio into dining and lounging.”
    “You ‘lounge’ here a lot?”
    He shrugged, opening the picnic basket and finding one of two bottles of wine. He checked it out: a decent vintage with a twist-off cap. He said a word of silent thanks to Miss Potts. Corkscrews were not his forte. He removed two wineglasses from the basket.
    “ Chardonnay?” he asked.
    “Sure. I’d love some .” Savannah gestured to the table. “Should I …?”
    “Why don’t we relax first?” He nodded to ward the fireplace.
    He watched as she walked over to the little sitting area, part of him praying that she’d choose the love seat. His heart dipped when she didn’t. She chose an easy chair instead, sitting on the edge, wringing her hands and playing with her rings. She was nervous;