Neither did she.
“What if someone else is in the house with you?”
“I prefer not to think about that.” Fear crawled around in the pit of her stomach. He was right. she had a decent imagination, but she was pretty sure she hadn’t imagined someone else standing out of sight inside the parlor.
“Have you eaten?”
Startled, she focused on Bram. “What?”
“I haven’t eaten dinner yet and I have a steak big enough for two. You’d be welcome to join me.”
“You cook?” She stalled, trying to picture herself sitting across a table from him, sharing a meal.
His eyes seemed to glitter. “Why don’t you be the judge?”
“No power, remember?”
“I’ve got a hot forge.”
“You cook at your forge?”
His teeth glinted as he smiled. A thrill shot through her. She had the distinct impression that smiles were a rare thing with this man. And the one that creased his face now was every bit as appealing as the man himself.
“I have a smaller tank of propane and a camp stove with me. Hungry?”
The pretzels she’d eaten on the drive from the Boston apartment she shared with her sister suddenly seemed less substantial than they had several hours ago.
“Yes, actually, I think I am. If you’ll shine that light over there, I can supply the wine.” His flashlight picked up the built-in wine rack. “I’m not much of a drinker, so I don’t know much about wines,” she confessed. “Do you want to choose something?”
He reached past her with one well-muscled arm. She found herself fascinated by the tattoo on his upper arm as he selected a bottle without hesitating.
“Is that a dragon?”
“Yes. Corkscrew?”
Hayley wondered if the question had bothered him. He didn’t look upset, but then she knew absolutely nothing about the man calling himself Bram Myers. Nothing except the fact that she was strangely drawn to him. Even as she found a corkscrew and followed him back through the house, she wondered if she was making a serious mistake. He paused to scoop up the overnight bag she’d left inside the front door.
“Just in case,” he told her.
“In case what?” she asked nervously.
“In case there really is someone running around in here.”
“Oh.”
They stepped outside and he waited while she forced her key into the stiff lock on the front door.
“At least he didn’t change this lock,” she muttered. “Do you think I should call the police?” How strange that she hadn’t even thought of that until now.
“Up to you. It’s your house, Ms. Thomas.”
“Hayley.”
He inclined his head. “Nice name.”
“Thank you.” She felt disconcerted once again.
“One problem with calling the police is that it will require more than a single officer to search a house this size. By the time a responding officer sends for enough backup to do a thorough job, anyone inside would have slipped away.”
“True,” she agreed, not certain the police would respond if she did call them. “But if someone is in here, they could do all sorts of damage, not to mention help themselves to any number of valuable items.”
The adrenaline rush was fading fast and so was she. Following this man back under the dense canopy of trees no longer seemed like such a good idea.
“Suit yourself,” he said. “You can stay here if you like, but I’m going back to have dinner.”
She followed him off the porch onto the thick carpet of grass. Nervously, she cast a look over her shoulder. A movement caught her eye. She was almost certain a curtain had twitched in one of the parlor windows.
Chapter Two
“Do you still think you saw someone at the window before we left?” Bram asked.
He watched Hayley’s features tighten. She straightened up in his dilapidated old camp chair and faced him squarely.
“Yes.”
He’d assumed she’d been rattled by the dark, spooky house. Frankly, he was. Heartskeep wasn’t a structure he’d want to call home.
“It’s pretty dark. You probably saw light reflecting off the window.”
“What light?”
Good point. “My flashlight?” Her expression told him what she thought of that suggestion. “You should have let me go back inside and check around.”
“No, you were right. The house is too big to search without lights. You could have been hurt.”
“Think so?” Amusement warred with annoyance. Bram watched Hayley shrug as she lifted the paper cup to take another careful sip of wine. She glanced around the clearing nervously. With no moon visible tonight, the setting was perfectly designed to give any smart young woman a case of nerves. The only light came from his camp stove and the citronella candles he’d staked around them to ward off the hungry insect population.
Bram suspected those weren’t the predators that worried Hayley. She was alone with a man she didn’t know, surrounded by trees and the prying eyes of whatever four-legged creatures resided here. If she yelled for help, no one would hear. Only a fool would feel comfortable with the current situation, but he had to hand it to Hayley, she contained her fear well.
Bram felt a stirring of desire and tamped it down quickly. His reaction surprised him. She was undeniably attractive. Her fitted slacks and casual blouse revealed a trim, lithe, enticing figure. But Bram had worked at being immune to any woman’s figure for some time now.
Maybe that was the problem, he thought wryly. Except that it wasn’t her figure so much as something in those wide, doelike eyes that held him enthralled. For all her bold talk, Hayley had a disturbingly innocent sensuality.
She tossed back her head, and he followed the shimmery motion of each golden-brown strand as her hair settled around her shoulders and slid down her slim back. Oh, yeah, she was definitely sparking a reaction in him, yet there was no hint of the practiced tease. Just the opposite, in fact. She was tense and wary and trying not to let it show. He admired her guts, if not her intelligence. The problem was, he didn’t want to be admiring anything at all.
“Feel better?” The question came out more gruffly than he’d intended. Hayley didn’t flinch at his abrupt tone. Her head tipped to one side.
“Actually, I do. Sorry I was such a glutton. I didn’t realize I was so hungry until I started eating. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” His social skills might be rusty, but at least he still remembered his manners. “You weren’t a glutton. I’m glad to see you aren’t one of those picky eaters.”
Hayley had polished off her share of the food and now she was working her way through a second cup of wine with slow, careful sips. She didn’t seem to have noticed that his cup stood untouched.
“I know I should feel like a complete pig, but I don’t care. Even if I have to work out an extra hour tomorrow morning, that meal was worth every bite.”
An image of her bending and stretching in some body-hugging outfit was not something he wanted to picture at the moment. As Bram searched for a safer topic he felt the slow crawl of her eyes over his chest. They lingered just long enough to stir the unwanted heat simmering in his loins.
“You know, a look like that can get a woman in a lot of trouble,” he told her softly. Her gaze flew to his face. He was pretty sure she blushed, but she wasn’t the type to be easily intimidated.
“Sorry. I was looking for the cape and the suit with the big S.”
“What?”
“You know. Blue tights, red cape, big red S on the chest?”
He nearly grinned as he caught her meaning. “Sorry, no superhero costumes in my wardrobe.”
“Pity.”
“But I’ll be happy to go back up to the house with you and have a look around just the same.”
She shook her head. He found himself captivated by the shimmer of her hair once more.
“I don’t think so,” she told him. “While that
dragon on your arm looks suitably fierce, I doubt it shoots real flames in times of crisis. I’d hate to be the reason you discovered that tough hide of yours isn’t bulletproof.”
For the third time that night Bram found himself wanting to grin. She had a way of catching him off guard with her droll sense of humor.
“What I should have done,” she continued, unperturbed, “was to follow my instincts as soon as I saw your gate out front, and called the police.”
“I didn’t think my work was that bad, but, hey, don’t let me stop you.”
She gazed up at him from beneath her thick eyelashes. “I didn’t mean it that way. Your art is beautiful and you know it. Besides, I left calling them a bit late, don’t you think? I can just see his reaction now if Marcus came home and found the police searching the house again.”
“Again?” Obviously, she and her father were not close.
She ignored the question. “Whoever was inside is probably gone by now.”
“Then it should be perfectly safe for me to have a look around—even without the bulletproof hide.”
“No, that’s okay.”
Bram couldn’t have said why her abrupt dismissal annoyed him so much, but he had an irrational urge to reach over and touch her. He stood abruptly and reached for a bag to dispose of the trash.
Startled by his sudden movement, Hayley jumped. To cover her reaction, she unfolded herself from the low chair with a gracefulness few women could have managed. Her unease wasn’t due exclusively to him, he realized as her gaze wandered past the circle of light to study the darkness that surrounded them.
“It’s getting late,” she told him. “I should go.”
She handed him her paper plate and their fingers collided. Bram felt her touch all the way down to that part of him her presence had already roused to life.
Hayley went still. Her eyes widened as if she felt the charge as well. He took a small measure of satisfaction from the fact that she nearly dropped everything in her hurry to pull back from that casual contact. Her large blue eyes clearly registered consternation.
“Sorry. I’m not usually so clumsy.”
Clearly nervous now, she pushed back a strand of hair that skimmed across her cheek. The action unintentionally invited him to take a closer look. Her skin was smooth and every bit as tempting as her fascinating hair. His fingers tightened on the plate to keep from reaching out to see how both would feel.
What the devil was he thinking? She was a kid. And a scared kid at that. Besides, the last thing he wanted was an entanglement of any kind. Hayley was the sort of woman with entanglement stamped all over her. If his libido wanted sex that badly, he could always find a casual partner. She didn’t qualify.
“Have a seat and finish your wine,” he ordered sharply. “I can handle the cleanup.”
He glimpsed a flash of hurt in her eyes as she stepped back.
“I’ve had enough wine for the evening. I should go back to the house. I’m sure Marcus and his wife are home by now.”
Bram took a firm grip on his self-control. He would not let her get to him on any level. “Not fond of the stepmother, huh?”
Her chin came up quickly. “Not that it’s any of your business, but his marriage to Eden doesn’t bother me one way or another.”
Right. That was why her unpolished nails were biting into her palms and her very kissable lips were set in a thin, unhappy line. Well, tons of families were dysfunctional these days. Her problems weren’t his. Time to back off before her nails drew blood.
“You’re right. None of my business.”
“I’m sorry. That was rude. Eden can be…difficult.”
“I imagine it isn’t easy having a stepmother.”
“Oh, she’s always been that way. She was Marcus’s nurse for years.”
“I didn’t realize your father was ill.”
“He’s not. Marcus was a doctor. Eden worked for him.”
Bram raised his eyebrows. “Was a doctor?”
“I don’t think he’s practicing medicine anymore. As you must have gathered, Marcus and I don’t have much of a relationship. I’m not looking forward to this particular reunion. Marcus didn’t know I was coming.” She shrugged as if it didn’t matter, but her fingers didn’t relax.
Bram frowned. A lot of things were starting to bother him about this situation. “So you inherited Heartskeep from your mother?”
“My grandfather, actually. Our family has owned this land since the Civil War.”
“Impressive, but I’m confused. If it belonged to your maternal grandfather, why is your father in charge?”
“He’s not. He just thinks he is.” She tossed her head, drawing his attention to her hair once more. “It’s a long story.”
“I don’t have any pressing engagements tonight.”
For a minute, he thought she’d clam up, and he found he really did want to know more about her. He told himself it was because his job might depend on it, but he knew that wasn’t the only reason. When she shrugged lightly, he relaxed. She wasn’t going to walk away quite yet.
“Family tradition has always passed the land to the firstborn child. My mother was an only child, but my grandfather didn’t like Marcus. He bypassed tradition and named my mother’s firstborn child as his primary heir.”
“That would be you?”
“Yes. Since my sister and I were minors at the time, my grandfather wrote the will so that we wouldn’t inherit until we were twenty-five.”
“Isn’t it usually twenty-one?”
“It’s whatever the person wants to make it.” She shrugged lightly. “My grandfather had a bad heart. He knew if something happened to him before we were old enough to stand up for ourselves, Marcus might create problems for us.”
Again she shrugged. Despite his best intentions, Bram found himself watching the quick rise and fall of her breasts. When he realized she’d noticed, he turned his back and made a production of cleaning away the remains of their meal.
“How did you get interested in working with wrought iron?”
“My father and his brother were both blacksmiths. I used to hang around the forge a lot as a kid, watching them.”
Since this was an uncomfortable reminder of his father’s illness, Bram quickly changed the subject. “What do you do for a living, Hayley?”
“I’m working as an assistant art buyer for a gallery in Boston.”
“Yeah?”
“What?” she demanded.
“What, what? All I said was, yeah.”
“There is nothing wrong with being an assistant art buyer. I happen to have a degree in art from Wellesley College.” She planted her fists on her hips.
“I never said there was.”
She lifted her chin. “I also have an MBA.”
“Impressive.”
“You’re laughing at me.”
“Nope. But for someone with two degrees, I sense a little defensiveness about being an assistant art buyer.”
Her shoulders slumped. “Marcus and Eden think I’ve wasted my education, but I’m learning the business. One day I plan to open my own gallery.”
“Nothing wrong with that. Are you an artist as well?”
“No.”
“That was an emphatic no. Did Marcus and Eden tell you that, too?”
Unexpectedly, she giggled. The strangely appealing sound filled the clearing.
“My art teachers did. They tried to be kind, but I’m utterly hopeless. Ms. Sang suggested the only canvas appropriate to my particular talents would be the outside of a building.”
“Ouch.”
Hayley grinned, unabashed. “She’s right. I’ve got a great eye for color and design, and I can spot a marketable piece of art a hundred yards away, but they have trained monkeys with more ability to create art than me.”
“That bad, huh?”
“Definitely. Did you design the front gate yourself?”
“Yes,” he said warily.
“Now that’s genuine, m
arketable art.”
She made it a pronouncement of fact.
“Why do I feel I should be shuffling my feet and saying, ‘aw, shucks, ma’am’?”
“Did I embarrass you?”
“Hardly. It’s a just a gate.” And a design he’d been working on for months.
“It’s art,” she said flatly.
“I seem to remember a threat to drive your car through some of that same art.”
He couldn’t tell for sure, but he thought she blushed again.
“I was annoyed.”
“I remember. Look, I hate to change the subject here, but what are you planning to do tonight if your father isn’t back yet?”
“I hadn’t thought about it. Where are you staying?”
Desire tightened his body. “Out here,” he managed to say neutrally. “You’d be welcome to join me, but I only have the one sleeping bag.”
Her eyes widened. Then, surprisingly, she smiled and shook her head, creating fascinating ripples in her long hair.
“Thanks, but I’ve got a nice comfortable bed inside the house.”
“With no electricity and a possible intruder for company,” he pointed out. He wasn’t sure if it was the idea of her going back inside that house alone, or the fact that she didn’t seem to view him as a threat anymore that bothered him the most. He told himself it was the former. He definitely didn’t like the idea of her sleeping alone in that enormous house, even if he did think she’d been imagining things.
“You don’t need to worry,” she said as if tapping into his thoughts. “Someone must be home by now. Marcus goes to bed when the sun goes down. This is a late night for him.”
The ice in Hayley’s tone every time she referred to her father never ceased to surprise Bram, making it hard for him to stem his curiosity.
“Your father might have gone away for a few days,” he suggested. “You said he wasn’t expecting you.”
“Marcus seldom leaves Heartskeep and his precious roses. Not since—” She stopped abruptly. “Anyhow, you don’t have to worry about me. I grew up in that house. I can always lock my bedroom door.”
Brave words, but Bram saw the tiny tremor she tried to conceal. She wasn’t nearly as comfortable with the idea as she wanted him to believe. Despite his determination not to get involved, he wasn’t about to let her do something stupid.
The Firstborn Page 3
