could give her that promise.
“I didn’t mean—”
“It’s fine, Jason.” She smiled stiffly. “I feel the same way. I was married for twenty years. I plan to stay single for a good long while.”
As she shuffled over to swing her legs over the side of the bed, the sheet fell away from her back, the sight of her bare bottom eliciting a stirring of heat in Jason’s groin. Never mind—now wasn’t the time.
Abby froze as her eyes fell on the rose still lying on the nightstand, now wilting. She turned to look at Jason, her gaze intent.
“Do you swear this wasn’t from you?”
“I swear, Abby. Besides, I could hardly have been responsible for the perfume or the lights going out.”
“Someone must be playing a prank on me,” she said, her irritation from the previous evening returning. “Or it was a bunch of weird coincidences.”
“There must be a rational explanation.”
“I’m sure there is.” Still clutching the sheet around herself, Abby stood and headed to the bathroom. “I guess I’ll take a quick shower. You have to get to work.”
After she closed the bathroom door, Jason sat up, his thoughts lingering on the strange occurrences during the night that had faded so far into the background of his consciousness. As the events were happening, he’d almost been ready to believe there really was something supernatural happening. In the light of day, though, it seemed that there must be an earthly explanation for all of it— whatever that might turn out to be.
Chapter Eight
Jason waited until Abby had settled into her chair before taking his own seat at the opposite side of the table.
“I haven’t been here in ages.” She gazed around the restaurant, a small but elegant establishment overlooking the Niagara River. “I hope the salmon is as amazing as it used to be.”
Handing her one of the leather-bound menus, Jason smiled warmly. “I come here for lunch all the time, and I had the salmon last week. It melts in your mouth.”
“Good, then I don’t need to look at the menu,” Abby said brightly, returning his smile.
A waiter arrived at their table momentarily, and as Jason ordered a bottle of Pinot noir, Abby let her gaze settle on the gorgeous man across from her. He looked dapper in a shirt and tie, his customary attire for a day at the winery. As much as she appreciated his neatly put-together appearance, she couldn’t help but indulge a fantasy involving the systematic removal of those clothes. But that would have to wait for a while; in a few hours she’d be off to the airport to catch a flight to Vancouver. She’d been having the time of her life with Jason, and her enthusiasm for this trip was sorely lacking.
“Jason, Abby, how are you?”
Abby looked up to see Lorena Bloom pacing toward their table, beaming a disingenuously broad smile. But then, nothing about Lorena had ever struck Abby as particularly genuine. Nearly sixty, she still dyed her hair jet-black, and there was something odd about the set of her features, likely the result of a few too many surgical alterations—not the least of which involved her ample bosom boosted well above its natural position.
“I saw you at the opera last night,” Lorena went on without waiting for a reply. “I tried to get your attention, but you hurried off so quickly.”
“Sorry we missed you.” Jason cast a brief, knowing glance at Abby, who smothered a grin, remembering how hastily they had left the theatre once they spotted Lorena approaching.
Lorena’s probing gaze settled on Abby. “Abby, you looked absolutely stunning at the hospital fundraiser gala. Was it one of the gowns Colin bought you?”
Abby straightened in irritation, but refused to let Lorena rile her. “No, it was new.”
“Well, it was just the kind of thing he would have loved to see you in. It’s still so strange seeing you out and about without him. It hardly seems like a year since we lost Colin.” Lorena let her smile
“I didn’t mean—”
“It’s fine, Jason.” She smiled stiffly. “I feel the same way. I was married for twenty years. I plan to stay single for a good long while.”
As she shuffled over to swing her legs over the side of the bed, the sheet fell away from her back, the sight of her bare bottom eliciting a stirring of heat in Jason’s groin. Never mind—now wasn’t the time.
Abby froze as her eyes fell on the rose still lying on the nightstand, now wilting. She turned to look at Jason, her gaze intent.
“Do you swear this wasn’t from you?”
“I swear, Abby. Besides, I could hardly have been responsible for the perfume or the lights going out.”
“Someone must be playing a prank on me,” she said, her irritation from the previous evening returning. “Or it was a bunch of weird coincidences.”
“There must be a rational explanation.”
“I’m sure there is.” Still clutching the sheet around herself, Abby stood and headed to the bathroom. “I guess I’ll take a quick shower. You have to get to work.”
After she closed the bathroom door, Jason sat up, his thoughts lingering on the strange occurrences during the night that had faded so far into the background of his consciousness. As the events were happening, he’d almost been ready to believe there really was something supernatural happening. In the light of day, though, it seemed that there must be an earthly explanation for all of it— whatever that might turn out to be.
Chapter Eight
Jason waited until Abby had settled into her chair before taking his own seat at the opposite side of the table.
“I haven’t been here in ages.” She gazed around the restaurant, a small but elegant establishment overlooking the Niagara River. “I hope the salmon is as amazing as it used to be.”
Handing her one of the leather-bound menus, Jason smiled warmly. “I come here for lunch all the time, and I had the salmon last week. It melts in your mouth.”
“Good, then I don’t need to look at the menu,” Abby said brightly, returning his smile.
A waiter arrived at their table momentarily, and as Jason ordered a bottle of Pinot noir, Abby let her gaze settle on the gorgeous man across from her. He looked dapper in a shirt and tie, his customary attire for a day at the winery. As much as she appreciated his neatly put-together appearance, she couldn’t help but indulge a fantasy involving the systematic removal of those clothes. But that would have to wait for a while; in a few hours she’d be off to the airport to catch a flight to Vancouver. She’d been having the time of her life with Jason, and her enthusiasm for this trip was sorely lacking.
“Jason, Abby, how are you?”
Abby looked up to see Lorena Bloom pacing toward their table, beaming a disingenuously broad smile. But then, nothing about Lorena had ever struck Abby as particularly genuine. Nearly sixty, she still dyed her hair jet-black, and there was something odd about the set of her features, likely the result of a few too many surgical alterations—not the least of which involved her ample bosom boosted well above its natural position.
“I saw you at the opera last night,” Lorena went on without waiting for a reply. “I tried to get your attention, but you hurried off so quickly.”
“Sorry we missed you.” Jason cast a brief, knowing glance at Abby, who smothered a grin, remembering how hastily they had left the theatre once they spotted Lorena approaching.
Lorena’s probing gaze settled on Abby. “Abby, you looked absolutely stunning at the hospital fundraiser gala. Was it one of the gowns Colin bought you?”
Abby straightened in irritation, but refused to let Lorena rile her. “No, it was new.”
“Well, it was just the kind of thing he would have loved to see you in. It’s still so strange seeing you out and about without him. It hardly seems like a year since we lost Colin.” Lorena let her smile
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