by Laura Taylor
He drank in the erotic sound. His pulse kicked into high gear, and his heart raced. Framing her face with his hands, he explored every curve and ridge beyond the boundary of her lips.
The soft sounds she made utterly seduced him.
He lingered over her, sipping at times, penetrating deeply when his restraint unraveled, slowing himself down when it became necessary, and all the while savoring the honeyed taste of her. Too soon, his body began to clamor for much more than he knew she could offer. At least, for now.
He couldn’t violate her trust. She would hate him if he did. Hell, he would hate himself.
Trailing his lips across her cheek, Thomas nuzzled her neck, then nipped at the delicate, fragrant skin there as he tried to cool down. After a while he lifted his head and peered at her, the coiled muscles of his body and the burning in his bloodstream still painful, but very much under control.
The disbelief and desire he glimpsed in her huge blue eyes made him want to carry her off to the nearest bed. Instead, he simply said, "You’d better get inside. I’ll call you in the morning."
Looking dazed, Geneva nodded.
He watched her let herself into the chalet before he made his way back to his car and drove to his Cedar Grove hotel. By dawn the next morning, Thomas Coltrane knew exactly what his next move would be.
4
As Geneva walked through the living room early one morning the following week, she glanced out the front window and saw a helicopter touch down on the snow–covered landing area adjacent to her property.
She experienced no alarm. If anything, she was glad to see the distinctive blue–and–gray chopper. She lingered at the window to confirm the identity of the pilot. Then, she made her way to the kitchen and turned on the coffeemaker before walking back to the chalet’s front door.
She greeted Nicholas with a smile. "You’re up early."
He grinned as he pulled off gloves and a knit cap and shoved them into his jacket pocket. "Haven’t you ever heard the old cliché, there’s no rest for the wicked?"
She gave him an amused look. "I thought that was ‘for the weary,’" she said before frowning at the snow melting at his feet. "Don’t forget to take off your boots. I’m not inclined to mop up your snow puddles."
He removed his jacket and heavy boots. "You sound just like Hannah."
"Great minds think alike," she said with a laugh. "Coffee’s on. Come into the kitchen."
Nicholas followed her down the wide hallway and into the glass–walled kitchen. A huge room, it had been the original site of her preserve and jam making endeavors. The scent of fresh herbs and spices filled the air, blending with the fragrance of roasted coffee beans.
Nicholas filled a mug, then downed almost half the contents before speaking again. "It’s cold out this morning."
"It’s cold and early," Geneva responded. "To what do I owe the honor?"
"I need a favor."
"Name it, but why didn’t you just send me an email?" she asked. "You could have saved yourself the trip."
He hesitated, then confessed, "This is above and beyond the call of duty."
"Do tell." Geneva filled a mug for herself and sipped the steaming brew.
"I’m taking Hannah and the baby to our place in Saint Louis. Her parents are celebrating their 50th wedding anniversary this coming week–end."
"Is Sean going with you?" she asked, referring to her business partner and his brother–in–law.
Nicholas shook his head. "Too soon for that. He’s not into crowds just yet. We’ll be bringing the folks back with us, so he’ll see them when they’re here."
Despite the easy flow of conversation, Geneva sensed his discomfort. Not normally a characteristic Nicholas displayed under any circumstances. And she felt certain his discomfort had nothing whatsoever to do with Sean Cassidy.
Geneva set down her mug. "You visit Saint Louis quite regularly, so what’s different about this trip? And why is the favor you need above and beyond the call of duty?"
"I have a potential buyer for the lodge, and I’d like you to represent my interests while I’m gone. Whoever purchases the lodge and the land surrounding it will be your neighbor, so you have a personal stake in the transaction."
She knew that he’d been considering the sale of the lodge and surrounding acreage, so she nodded. "Acting as your representative won’t be a problem, Nicholas, but you must realize that I trust your judgment. I know you won’t sell to just anyone."
"I think it might be a problem for you, but I want you to do this for me, anyway."
Her smile faded. "Why will it be a problem?"
"Tom Coltrane’s the prospective buyer."
Tom? She asked, "When did you two become so chummy?"
"We talked about an hour ago. And we aren’t exactly chummy, although we do understand each other."
"Ah, male bonding."
He chuckled. "Hardly. Besides, Coltrane’s not a man who bonds easily."
"Why don’t you have Sam handle the transaction for you? He is, after all, your real estate attorney."
"I would, but he’s in Reno on a case, and he’ll be tied up for several weeks."
"Nicholas, please don’t scheme," she cautioned.
He looked mildly chagrined. "Hannah said the same damn thing."
"Smart woman."
"Look, you already know that I think you need to open yourself up to a real life."
"Don’t play Cupid, Nicholas. It won’t work, no matter how well intentioned your efforts."
"You like him."
She frowned. "Yes, but within limits. And there are boundary lines I must enforce for reasons you and I both understand."
"I’m not trying to set you up on a date, little one. I promise."
"Not everyone is fortunate enough to find what you’ve found with Hannah," she reminded him.
Nicholas shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not."
Geneva knew there was nothing casual about this man, so his pretense of innocence rang false.
"If it’ll set your mind at ease, I’ve already done a preliminary background check on Coltrane."
Startled, she asked, "When? And why, for heaven’s sake?"
"He’s a tenant in one of my properties."
She nodded. Of course he’d done a background and credit check. Nicholas was as thorough as the day was long about the security of his property and the safety of his friends.
"I’d forgotten about that."
"He’s as clean as a whistle, Geneva. Impeccable reputation, highly respected in the legal profession, known to be ruthless in court, well–liked by his friends and former law partners, divorced for over five years now, excellent credit rating, an investment portfolio that rivals mine, and he’s in great physical condition. He’s even an ex–snake eater, which gives him an added edge."
"An added edge? Because he was a Green Beret and he’s still in great shape?" She exhaled in frustration. "You mean in the unlikely event that he has to defend me? Maybe even die for me?"
"Well, the thought occurred to me. I don’t want you vulnerable, not ever."
Nicholas might not want her to be vulnerable, but she was and in ways he failed to grasp. She suddenly wanted an end to this conversation. "If you promise to keep your hands off my personal life, I’ll represent your interests."
"Thanks," he said, his relief apparent. "Tom will be here in an hour or so. I checked the road to the lodge during my descent. It’s clear, so you won’t have any problems getting over there, and you already have a set of keys for the place."
Geneva nodded, feeling uneasy and excited at the prospect of seeing Thomas. She invariably felt that combination of delight and anxiety when they were together, whether in her office sharing a mid–morning cup of coffee or sitting across from one another at a local lunch spot.
"Promise me, Nicholas. Now."
He drained the last of his coffee from the mug, then preceded her out of the kitchen and down the hallway to the front door. After stepping into his boots and donning his outer
wear, he sidestepped the promise she sought and advised, "Don’t be afraid to feel, little one."
"Nicholas…"
He left her standing in the open doorway. Still exasperated with him, she watched as he jogged the short distance to his helicopter. He lifted off within minutes, leaving her to mutter a word she never used unless she was alone. Then, she slammed the front door. Hard.
Geneva couldn’t recall ever feeling so emotionally transparent. She didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry.
In the end, she did neither. She simply accepted the fact that her friend and protector had drawn certain conclusions after seeing her with Thomas. Accurate conclusions. Conclusions that shouldn’t have surprised her at all, because Nicholas understood from recent personal experience the volatile chemistry and emotional hunger that can rise up between a man and a woman and engulf them when they least expect it.
Geneva recalled with a smile the way in which Hannah had unwittingly stormed the fortress that surrounded Nicholas’s heart while on a mission to find her missing brother eighteen months earlier. Nicholas had fought a valiant battle, but he’d lost. He’d won in the end, though, because in Hannah he’d gained his soul mate.
She envied Nicholas and Hannah Benteen. They symbolized the ultimate in a passionate, loving partnership, but Geneva knew in her heart that their relationship was unique. Sighing, she reminded herself that she couldn’t afford to be unrealistic about her own expectations or prospects. Soul mates were, after all, a rare commodity.
She bathed and dressed, but her thoughts, the same thoughts that had kept her awake most of the previous night, remained centered on Thomas Coltrane. Whenever they were together, she couldn’t stop herself from recalling the kiss they’d shared at her front door.
He’d shocked her, and then he’d aroused her with stunning precision as he lingered at her lips. And she had responded, against her will at first and then with a total absence of restraint. How could she not have responded given the depth of her desire for the man?
She’d felt more than desire, though. Much more. She’d experienced a sense of rightness in his embrace that she’d never known with a man before, as well as the profound relief that she was capable of expressing her passion.
Years lived alone had made her anxious about her ability to really feel again. She now felt a great deal thanks to Thomas Coltrane, but she longed for far more than just the physical act of carnal possession. She wanted the fantasy that every person sought: to be loved and accepted, unconditionally.
She’d been on hold for a very long time, isolated from physical and emotional intimacy for more than ten years. Now, she teetered on the brink of change. She felt the storm forming on the horizon of the life she’d created for herself, building the kind of momentum that would end in her surrender. A part of her welcomed change in her well–guarded life, but another part, the one that feared rejection, urged her to refrain from acting impulsively.
Still, she doubted that her heart would listen to common sense. She’d been alone far too long.
When she returned to the first floor level, she noticed the blinking light on the sensor panel by the front door. She peered out the living room window and spotted Thomas Coltrane. He stood at the railing of the front deck, his attention captured by the panoramic view of jagged mountain peaks in the distance and the snow–laden valley at the bottom of the steep incline that fronted her property.
Geneva slipped on her heavy parka and leather gloves, tucked the lodge key ring into her pocket, and then made her way outside to join him. She promised herself that their conversation would be about real estate. Nothing else.
He turned at the sound of her footsteps.
Her promise faded when she saw the warmth in his gaze. She wanted him so much, she struggled not to walk straight into his arms. She glimpsed his desire for her, but she saw something else in his gaze, as well. Uncertainty. Vulnerability. Hope. She prayed her own emotions weren’t as apparent.
She slowed to a stop, almost like a doe scenting jeopardy if she chose the wrong path. Geneva smoothed back tendrils of hair trying to escape her French braid. "I understand you’d like a tour of the lodge."
He nodded.
She felt his darkening gaze skim over her. Her entire body reacted to his visual caress. Despite the control she attempted to exert over herself, Geneva trembled.
"You look rested," he said.
Geneva lied. "I slept like a rock, as clichéd as that might sound."
"I didn’t."
She watched him, waiting for him to finish.
"I can’t seem to get you out of my head," Thomas said. "I haven’t been able to since the first time I saw you."
"No one’s ever said anything like that to me before, and I don’t know how to respond."
"The men you’ve known must have been blind and stupid."
"I haven’t known that many men," she reminded him.
"Then I guess some comments don’t require a response," Thomas conceded.
"But you want one, don’t you?"
He smiled. "Eventually, but not yet. I don’t want to rush you."
Careful, she counseled herself. Repartee with a man who tantalized her wasn’t her strong suit. "I’ve never allowed anyone to rush me."
"You’re obviously a woman who knows her own mind."
She countered with the truth. "What I am is a woman who trusts her instincts."
Thomas nodded, but he didn’t speak right away.
Geneva searched his face in the silent moments that followed, and she realized then just how much she needed him to be the man she now believed him to be—a man of honor and integrity. Nicholas had hinted that he was those things and more. So had Rose.
Still, Geneva hesitated. She lacked the experience of her peers, women in their mid–thirties who’d had at least a few relationships, and she felt at a disadvantage. She also felt compelled to proceed with caution, in spite of her clamoring senses.
Thomas observed, "Instincts are powerful resources, but only when they aren’t used self–destructively."
"That’s been my experience, too," Geneva answered, then shifted to the purpose of his visit. "Shall we head over to the lodge now? I’m sure you’re eager to see it."
"Sounds like a plan."
As Thomas drove, Geneva’s gaze lingered on his hands, her imagination producing a seductive image that sent heat rushing into her bloodstream. She saw his palms and long fingers gliding over her skin, molding and shaping her body as he explored it at his leisure, then his fingertips skimming over the curving fullness of her breasts before plucking gently at her nipples.
She shuddered, primitive arousal stunning her senses. No man had ever inspired such sensual thoughts or evoked such need within her. Lost in the eroticism of her thoughts, she jumped when Thomas placed his hand on her knee to regain her attention.
"Easy. You’re wound awfully tight all of a sudden."
She flushed, then felt like a fool. Looking out the window, she realized why he’d stopped his car. "Take the left fork."
He did as she directed, although she noticed that he darted several glances her way as he slowly navigated the narrow lane.
"The lodge is around the next bend in the road," she signed, forcing herself to move beyond the fantasies her mind insisted on producing.
Thomas parked in front of the rustic–looking lodge. A large two–story cedar dwelling with a sloping roof, dusted white from the previous night’s snowfall, the lodge and spacious pine tree studded lot on which it sat reminded her of a Currier and Ives greeting card.
"The photo Nick faxed to me didn’t do this place justice." Thomas pushed open his car door and climbed out, a mix of snow and ice crunching beneath his feet.
Nick? Geneva shook her head in disbelief. She accepted his hand when he came around to her side of the vehicle and opened her door. "It’s one of the most beautiful homes in the area," she said as they stood side by side. "Nicholas gave the architect who designed it carte blanche."
"How long has it been empty?" Thomas asked as they climbed the steps to the veranda.
"About a year. The former tenants prefer the tropics, and they live in the Caribbean now."
"Nick didn’t mention he’d used the lodge as a rental."
"He didn’t. Jean and Mark had a ninety–nine year lease on the property, but they relinquished it when they left the area."
"What about your place?"
She hesitated, and then said, "I have the same arrangement with Nicholas, since he owns the land. But I have the added option of purchasing the chalet and the land around it at any time. I’m not in a hurry, though. The current arrangement is fine with me."
"Interesting."
"Practical," she pointed out as they stepped inside. "Nicholas maintains absolute control over the land, which benefits all of us."
"So he’s an environmentalist?"
She met his gaze. "He is many things, Thomas."
"So I’ve heard. He’s also very protective of you."
"Yes, he is." Wariness filtered into her when she noticed the speculative expression on his face.
"Why?"
"He just is." She shrugged, the gesture intended as a casual one.
Thomas stopped her from taking more than a few steps into the foyer when he placed his hand on her shoulder and forced her to turn around.
"Why, Geneva? I’m not a fool, so don’t treat me like one. I have the very distinct impression that you and Benteen, and probably several others, have a very complicated history."
"Does it matter?"
"Of course, it matters. My gut tells me it matters a whole hell of a lot. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be upset by my desire to understand."
"I’m not upset," she protested, abruptly closing the door. It slammed shut like a punctuation mark on the past.
"Why all the secrecy, Geneva?"
"Some things don’t concern you or anyone else."
"I don’t agree."
"You’re wrong, so please change the subject."
"If I’m wrong, why are you upset?"
"I’m not upset. How many times do I have to say it? Quit badgering me. You have no right."
"There are a lot of rumors among the local residents about Benteen."
