“No. I’m not inconveniencing you any—”
“If I have to drive you to town it’s another half an hour each way. My place is a mile off this road.”
Jenna eyed Gard suspiciously. “And you just happened to take me to the diner that was around the corner from your house?”
Gard grinned. “A mile is hardly around the corner.”
“Don’t give me that. I know what things are like out in the country. This place is practically in your backyard.”
“Not always a city girl, hmm?”
Jenna flushed and clasped her hands in her lap before Gard could see them shaking. “You’re nefarious.”
“Now there is a word I haven’t been called in…oh, a century or so.”
Jenna couldn’t help herself. She laughed. “How about impossible? Does that work a little better for you?”
“I think I prefer nefarious. More sophisticated.”
Jenna snorted.
“So are we agreed?”
“You make the motel sound so appealing.” Jenna shrugged. “I’m not making you drive around an extra hour to take me to town. If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure.” Gard took in the circles under Jenna’s eyes, the pallor that went deeper than the natural hue of her skin, the tightness around her eyes that spoke of pain, both physical and something beyond. For just an instant, she saw Jenna asleep in her bed, secure in the circle of her arms, and knew she’d lied.
When it came to Jenna Hardy, she wasn’t sure of anything at all.
Chapter Eight
Jenna went back to watching the night as Gard turned off the serpentine country road onto a gravel lane that wound between regiments of towering oaks and lone spruce sentries. The moon flirted in and out behind smoky clouds while ahead of them an apparition rose, Brigadoon-like from the shadows, to consume the horizon. A stately white clapboard house stretched its wings from either side of the main building into darkness, its tall, narrow windows flanked by black shutters like so many thick lashes. Incandescent lanterns on either side of the double front doors cast pale yellow circles onto a columned porch. Not a mansion built to mimic the elegance and gallantry of centuries gone by, but the real thing. A country manor house preserved in all its glory.
“And to think I passed on the Motel 6.” Jenna rapidly revised her earlier assessment of Gard as a simple country vet. Gard hadn’t earned enough tending livestock to buy a place like this. Family money, maybe, or inherited. Definitely a mystery, and when the puzzle came wrapped up in a package like Gard Davis, a fascinating one she itched to unwrap.
Gard pulled the truck around the circular drive and stopped. “The walk is tricky. Wait for me.”
Peering through the windshield, Jenna got the impression of another sizeable building looming behind the house—the barn, she presumed. When Gard opened the door, the night rushed in, carrying the wild scent of the surrounding farmland and woods. A gust of wind singing with the deep rumble of bullfrogs and the high-pitched rustle of insects whipped her hair around her face, and she reached up to brush the errant strands out of her eyes. She could almost believe she’d stepped through a time warp, and Gard’s sudden appearance did nothing to dispel the illusion. Her profile etched in starlight, her dark hair blowing, and one hand held out to Jenna, she might have been the lord of the manor handing a lady down from her carriage.
Jenna was no Cinderella, though, and she knew it only too well. Had she waited to be rescued so long ago, she would still be lugging trays at Benny’s. Ignoring Gard’s outstretched hand as agilely as she had dodged the unwanted advances of Benny’s customers, Jenna gripped Gard’s shoulder instead and stepped down onto her uninjured leg.
“How’s the knee?” Gard asked.
“Better.” Jenna let her hand linger on Gard’s shoulder and tested her damaged knee. Sore but serviceable. She relinquished her hold on Gard. “I think the treatment might be worse than the injury.”
“Often the case,” Gard said, “but this walk is uneven and you won’t be able to see the flagstones in the dark.”
“This is no little country farm.”
When they started toward the house, Gard slipped her arm around Jenna’s waist, and Jenna didn’t protest the chivalry. She might not need rescuing, but she liked the hard heat of Gard’s body. As long as she was the one in charge of the touching.
“Mulberry Ridge was once one of the largest farms in the state. I was lucky to get the house after the family sold off most of the land.”
“And there’s just you here?”
“Me, Beam, and a couple dozen horses, goats, and chickens.”
“Beam?”
A dark form cannonballed out of the shadows and bore down on them so quickly Jenna gasped and pressed close against Gard. “What—”
“Beam,” Gard called sharply. “Take it easy. Walking wounded here.”
A wriggling Labrador Retriever skidded to a halt in front of them, tongue lolling and eyes glinting in the moonlight.
Jenna laughed. “Your roommate?”
“One and the same.”
“Hello you.” Jenna released her grip on Gard’s arm and leaned down to pet the dog.
“That’s enough, Beam. Go on up now,” Gard said.
The dog shot up the steps and Gard took Jenna’s hand, helping her up to the wide plank porch. After unlocking the front door, Gard led the way inside and flipped on a light switch.
“Beam,” Gard said, “go in the kitchen.”
Jenna was too absorbed by her surroundings to be more than momentarily impressed that the dog obeyed. A slate-floored foyer led to a large central hall with doors standing open on either side. She noted a library on the left, a sitting room on the right, and straight ahead a huge curving staircase that opened onto a semicircular second-floor balcony that overlooked the central hall. Oh yes, this was definitely the lord of the manor’s home. Scattered rugs covered gleaming random-width hardwood floors and a huge chandelier hung in a glass-domed cupola high above their heads.
“This place is exquisite. Have you been here long?”
“A few years.” Gard tossed her keys casually onto an oak side table with a beveled mirror. “I’ll show you your room, then bring up your luggage.”
“All I need is the carry-on,” Jenna said, recognizing that Gard was avoiding any discussion of the personal. Gard was a mass of contradictions, and so was Jenna’s reaction to her. They’d only just met, but Gard had somehow gotten closer to her than anyone other than Alice had managed in years. Close enough to divert Jenna from her plans to stay at the motel, close enough to convince Jenna to stay at her home, close enough to take care of her, to have touched her more than once. Jenna hadn’t let her close as much as Gard had crossed the barriers she had carefully constructed as if they didn’t even exist, and that made Jenna wary. She felt vulnerable, and not just because Gard held her secrets even closer than Jenna held hers. She was uncomfortably aware of liking Gard’s attention. A lot.
“I’ll wait here, if you want to grab my bag out of the truck,” Jenna said. “I can carry it upstairs.”
“No doubt. But I’m not going to watch you struggle with it just so you can prove you can do it.”
“Just when I think I’m starting to like you, you piss me off again.”
Gard grinned, an appealing, crooked grin that on anyone else would probably have come off as practiced. On her it was completely natural and all the more attractive. “I seem to do that a lot.”
“You’re right, you do. If you insist on playing the knight to my damsel in distress, just bring in the damn bag. I’m too tired for another power struggle.”
“I can’t see you in that role—damsel in distress.”
“Good. Neither can I.” Jenna smiled. She could see Gard as a knight, though. She had that intensity and sense of purpose, and damn it, she liked that about her. Not at all her usual response to women trying to take charge. “I’ll get a head start on the stairs while you’re gone.”
Gard hesitated, then nodded. “All right. Your room is up the stairs, the first on the right. I’ll be right up.”
“Thanks.”
Jenna crossed to the stairs and started the laborious process of ascending. From behind her, she heard a soft “Be careful,” and the last of her annoyance melted with the stroke of Gard’s deep voice over her skin.
The guest room was country-classic with floral print wallpaper above white beadboard wainscoting, French doors that opened onto a wood-railed balcony, and a canopy bed. An antique writing desk nestled in front of lace-curtained bay windows, the window bench complete with a red velvet seat cushion. The modernized adjoining bath was fitted out with a Jacuzzi and glassed-in shower.
Jenna retrieved her computer from her briefcase and set it on the desk. She hadn’t checked her mail since she’d arrived at the airport, and business was a twenty-four-hour-a-day event in the Internet-connected world. She probably couldn’t get online way out here, but she could at least respond to her latest messages and send them in the morning. Hopefully the motel had wireless. A rap sounded on the open door and she turned as Gard placed her carry-on next to the mahogany armoire.
“Find everything you need okay?” Gard retreated to the threshold, as if not wanting to invade Jenna’s space.
“Yes, it’s great. After what you told me about the motel, you may have trouble getting rid of me.” Jenna indicated the room with a sweep of her arm. “This is beautiful.”
“You’re welcome to stay as long as you like. The wireless isn’t passworded.”
“Wireless?” Jenna sighed. “I may definitely have to move in.”
“Can you cook?” Gard stood with an arm braced against either side of the doorway, her hips canted to one side, a ghost of a smile flickering over her wide, sensuous mouth. Jenna had registered her attractiveness earlier—how could she not? Gard’s tight body and handsome features were impossible to miss. But she hadn’t caught the rush of sexual current until just now. Gard kept that power tamped down very effectively, and Jenna wondered why. And why Gard had dropped her shields now.
Jenna imagined herself naked, spread out on the canopy bed with Gard’s strong hips thrusting between her thighs, her palms sliding down Gard’s slick back, her will trapped by Gard’s hungry eyes. Jenna blinked, and across the room Gard’s mouth quirked, as if Gard were reading her thoughts. Jenna quickly averted her gaze. What was she doing? She’d just had an entire night of sex, very good sex at that, so why couldn’t she seem to stop thinking of it every time she caught a glimpse of her host?
“Can’t cook a thing,” Jenna said too quickly. Perfect. Just what she needed. To let Gard see her so off-balance. Getting a grip, she pasted on her practiced smile—the one she brought out for public appearances and casual liaisons.
“Well, you’re still welcome to stay. If there’s anything you need—”
“I can’t imagine wanting for anything here.”
“I don’t have guests very often.” Gard frowned. “Actually, I never have guests. The housekeeper is supposed to make sure the rooms are kept ready, but…” Gard shrugged. “I don’t actually check.”
Jenna sat on the end of the bed and wrapped her arm around the carved wooden bedpost. Leaning her head against it, she regarded Gard curiously. “This house isn’t your usual bachelor pad. And if you’re not into entertaining…”
Gard shifted her back against the doorway and crossed her legs at the ankle. Her blue workshirt stretched across her chest, clinging to the contours of her oval breasts, the seductive curves contrasting sharply with her hard-muscled body. A twist of desire struck so sharply Jenna almost gasped. God, her hormones were out of control.
“Never mind, I’m being intrusive.” Jenna hoped Gard would just go. Then she’d do a little work, settle herself down, and fall asleep. Without thinking of Gard or how good Gard’s body would feel covering hers.
“I saw the place and I loved it,” Gard said, obviously not interpreting Jenna’s message. “It’s got character, history, stories in every room.” Gard glanced around, her expression distant. “Being here is almost like living with a fascinating woman.”
“Really,” Jenna said softly. “And you don’t get lonely?”
“Always more to learn.”
“About the house or the woman?” Jenna wondered just who the woman was—and if she was real or imagined. The twinge of envy for any woman who might have captivated Gard’s attention surprised her, but Gard’s silence on the subject didn’t. After a moment, she said, “Well, that’s an amazing analogy. You have the soul of an artist.”
Gard snorted. “Hardly. I was raised to be—”
“Raised to be what?” Jenna said, more curious now. Talk about a fascinating woman. Gard was certainly that.
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