“Yes, I’m Sam Thornton. Please, call me Sam.”
He stepped forward, his gait still uneven after his car journey, and held out his hand.
“I’m Erin, Erin Connell, your hostess.”
She took his hand in hers, and in that instant he knew he’d lost his battle with himself. A sizzle of awareness started at the point where their palms met and shot up his arm. To his surprise, she uttered a small “Oh!” before releasing his hand and taking a step back. So she was affected, too. Great. Bloody great, he thought dourly. This should not be happening.
“Please, come inside and let me show you your room,” she said, her voice a little huskier than it had been before. “Can I help you with your things?”
“No, I’ll manage on my own, thanks.”
She turned and preceded him into the lodge, affording him an excellent view of her rigid spine and the way it led in a straight line to the gentle arcs of her hips and bottom. Hips and bottom that were firmly clad in white denim that would probably be outlawed in some countries for the way it clung to her curves. Another clench of desire hit him hard and low and he forced himself to breathe through it.
This was insane. Erin Connell wasn’t even his type, he thought, as he followed her up the old wooden staircase to the next floor. He didn’t have a type. Didn’t want one, ever again. And yet, despite his silent protestations, there was still that nagging interest.
“Are you visiting from overseas?” she asked.
He got that a lot. “No, I’m from New Zealand originally, but I’ve been based in the States for about eight years now.”
“Oh, really? I’ve always wanted to go there. I hear it’s beautiful. Maybe one day,” she said airily as they reached the top of the stairs.
He was relieved not to have her enticing shape smack bang in his line of vision any longer. He followed her a short distance along the carpeted corridor and into a large, well-lit room that faced formal gardens to the rear of the property. Well, he supposed they must have been formal once. Again, there was that sense of neglect. He looked around the room. Whatever neglect there was outdoors, it didn’t extend to the inside.
“This is your room. I’m sure you’ll find you have everything you need here,” she said, moving through the space and across to open another door that clearly led to his private bathroom. “But if there’s anything else you require, please don’t hesitate to let me know.”
Her smile faltered as he stood there, just staring at her like an idiot. He forced himself to make some sound of approval and clearly he succeeded because her features relaxed once more.
“Now, you asked for an office also, so I’ve created space for you across the hall from your room. If you’ll come this way?”
He followed her directly across the hall to a wood-paneled room, with a desk situated near a deep window that looked out across the private bay and beyond to the lake.
“I thought you might like the lake view while you’re working,” she continued. “I hope that’s all right?”
“It’s great,” he answered. And it was, even if he couldn’t quite infuse his voice with the right level of gratitude. For what little she was charging, he’d have been grateful for a broom cupboard under the stairs. He made a mental note to ensure he paid her a generous bonus for the effort she’d clearly gone to for him, although he doubted she’d accept it when she found out exactly why he was here. “Thank you.”
She gave him another of those smiles that hit him square in the gut. “You’re welcome. We…well, I aim to please,” she said, her voice a little shaky. “I’ll leave you to unpack your things. You mentioned in your booking email that you’d prefer to dine early, so I have your dinner warming in the oven downstairs. The dining room is directly opposite the bottom of the stairs on the ground floor and you’ll find a bellpull just inside the door. Please ring for me when you’re ready.”
“Thank you, but you don’t have to wait on me hand and foot, Erin.”
Her name felt foreign on his tongue, and yet weirdly right at the same time. Had this place cast some strange spell upon him, he wondered, then thrust the random thought away for the foolishness it was. No, there was no spell. If anything, his crazy and sudden attraction to Erin Connell probably had its roots in something older and more primitive. Something that had little to do with sex itself, or the unwelcome raw need he felt for her, and everything to do with the fact he believed she was the woman who had borne his son.
Two
Sam’s eyes lit upon the monitor she had clipped to her belt, and he felt a strange tightness in his chest. As if on cue, the machine squawked into life and Sam heard his child’s cry for the very first time. He blinked back the sudden moisture that burned at his eyes and swallowed against the lump in his throat, forcing himself to speak.
“Your baby?” he asked, his voice remarkably level despite his churning emotions.
“Yes, my son. He’s four months old, but you don’t need to worry that he’ll disturb you while you’re here. We live downstairs at the opposite end of the lodge and he’s now sleeping through the night, thank goodness.”
“It’s no problem.” He dredged up a smile. “Don’t hide him away on my account.” The noise through the monitor grew more demanding. “It sounds like you’re being summoned. Don’t let me hold you up.”
“Thanks,” Erin said, already heading for the door. “Remember to just ring for me when you’re ready for your meal. I’ll bring it straight through.”
Sam raised his hand in acknowledgment and watched as she rapidly left the room. He expelled a harsh breath and turned to face the window, staring wildly out onto the serene surface of the lake and waiting in vain for it to fill him with a sense of calm that he hadn’t felt in far too long. It had been an entire year since his wife’s death. A year filled with pain, loss, grief and overwhelming guilt. He’d welcomed each one and borne it stoically. It was the least he could do, considering it was a stupid decision on his part that had taken Laura’s life.
He’d vowed he’d never enter into another relationship with anyone—ever. He’d even had a vasectomy to ensure that he couldn’t screw up another person’s life again. He owed Laura and her memory that much. Up until today, that hadn’t been a problem, but there was something about his hostess that pinged every single one of his male receptors. Knowing that Erin Connell had that effect on him angered and scared him in equal quotients. Not even with his beautiful wife had attraction been so raw, so intense, so instant.
So very, very wrong, especially since he was only at Lake Tahoe to do something she’d probably consider unforgivable. He’d come to find a way to claim her son.
* * *
Erin all but ran to the back stairs that would take her down to her living quarters. Wow, that guy was intense. Not to mention a whole lot younger and way more attractive than she’d counted on for her first guest since reopening. She unconsciously wiped her right hand against her hip, trying to assuage the tingle that had started with his handshake and spread through her whole body every time he’d looked at her.
She pattered down the stairs and let herself into her quarters, heading straight toward Riley’s nursery and the little hands that waved above the edge of his crib for her attention. Scooping her son up against her shoulder she automatically began to rock and make the soothing sounds she knew would settle him and tried not to wince as his strong fists closed in her hair.
“Hey, little man,” she crooned. “Did you have a nice nap? It
wasn’t quite long enough, though, was it? Did you hear our new visitor arrive? Is that what it is? Are you afraid you’re missing out on something, hmm?”
Erin carried Riley through to his room and placed him on the changing table, whipping off his wet diaper and replacing it with a dexterity she’d once doubted she’d ever manage. As she did so, she kept up a running commentary.
“I don’t blame you for wanting to meet our Mr. Thornton. He’s a bit of a hottie, not that I was looking, mind you. Only one man in my life,” she said bending down to blow a raspberry on Riley’s little belly. “And that’s you!”
She lifted Riley back up again as his chortles of glee faded away, striving to keep her focus where it belonged—squarely on her son. But meeting Sam Thornton had completely shaken her equilibrium. He was nothing like his courteously friendly emails had implied. She’d expected someone older, someone…well, duller. Not sex on legs.
His dark blond hair was cropped short and there were lines on his forehead and bracketing the sides of his mouth that suggested laughter was not something that came frequently to him. But his slate-gray eyes had been mesmerizing. She’d felt as if he could look right through her, to her very soul, if he so desired. And then there was his touch.
She shivered and clutched Riley just a little too tightly in reaction, earning a squeak of protest from her son. No, she didn’t want to go there, even though it had been a very long time since anyone had made her feel like that. All woman, all the way.
Erin made her way through to the kitchen and propped Riley in the tabletop rocker that gave him a clear line of sight for whatever she was doing. She adjusted the small toy mobile that was attached to one side so he could grab and play with it if he got bored watching her. She hummed a tune while she laid a large butler’s tray with all the condiments she thought her guest would enjoy with the casserole of braised beef and red wine she’d prepared earlier in the day and that now stood warming in the oven.
She’d made enough that she could freeze a couple of single portions for future meals for herself. With creamy mashed potatoes and fresh green vegetables from the kitchen garden, it would be a hearty meal. Perhaps too hearty, given that it was still late summer and the evenings were still long and, so far, delightfully warm.
She gave a mental shrug. If he had any complaints he could bring them to the management, she thought with a smile—the management that began and ended with her. It was a daunting enough role at the best of times, but Erin loved Connell Lodge with a passion. Arriving here for an interview to join the—then—much larger household staff, she’d felt as if she’d found home for the very first time in her life. She had come here with nothing and had made a life, created a family and a sense of belonging.
Ten years later, that home was being challenged by some stranger’s assertion that Riley was not her husband’s son. Party A, whoever he was, had no idea what can of worms he’d upended.
Legal advice, that was what she needed. But legal advice came with a price tag that she wasn’t in a position to pay, and she wasn’t about to use the firm that had handled the Connell family affairs for over a hundred years. Not when they were the very people who’d see her and Riley removed from the property if this whole paternity business didn’t go away.
She shook her head. She’d been James’s wife in every meaning of the word. Riley was their son. Connell Lodge was Riley’s home for his lifetime. The archaic trust that held the property only allowed direct descendants of the original James Connell, who built the property back in the early 1900s, to live there. As James’s legal and biological son, Riley and she—as his mother—had every right to be there.
A chill of foreboding ran down her spine. But what if a mistake had been made?
God, she hated this whole situation and the horribly vulnerable position it had put her in. If she had to leave right now, all she and Riley would have were the clothes on their backs and the very small amount of money left in her bank account. She had no skills other than being darn good at keeping the lodge in order and providing for their guests, and while she could competently skipper the boat moored at the end of the private pier, their charter license had long since lapsed. James had been the great outdoorsman, not to mention a much sought-after fishing guide, while all she’d ever wanted was a home—and Connell Lodge was that home.
Losing the very roof over her head was not an option. Somehow, she had to get the proof she needed to make this all go away.
A name popped into her head. Janet Morin. She’d met Janet during childbirth classes and knew the other woman had planned to return part-time to her legal practice in South Lake Tahoe almost immediately after the birth of her daughter. Maybe she could help, or at least be able to advise Erin on the best route to take without costing a small fortune. She’d make enquiries in the next few days, sound the woman out. She certainly didn’t want a whiff of any of this getting to the trustees who handled Connell Lodge—at least, not before she knew exactly where she stood, however shaky that ground may be.
Riley chose that moment to bump his nose with the toy he’d been clutching in his fist and sent up an almighty wail of protest. She unbuckled him from the rocker and lifted him in her arms but he was determined to be inconsolable.
“Shh, Riley-bear, shh,” she murmured as she held him close and peppered his little face with kisses, but he wasn’t having any of it.
From experience she knew there was only one way to soothe him. With one eye on the old-fashioned board, decorated with bells that were connected to the main rooms, she settled in a kitchen chair, unbuttoned the top of her blouse and adjusted her clothing so he could nurse. Riley latched onto her with gusto, and Erin wiped his chubby little cheeks of the tears that had stained them.
“Oh, Riley, your timing is kind of off, sweetheart. Our guest is going to be down for his dinner soon and I don’t think he’ll be impressed with me bringing along his meal with you attached to me like this.”
“I’m happy to wait.”
The voice from the door made her start, popping Riley off her. She swiftly guided him back and arranged her blouse a little more modestly.
“I’m sorry,” she said, color flaring in her cheeks as she saw exactly where Sam Thornton’s eyes were locked. “I didn’t hear you ring for me.”
“I didn’t.” Sam limped the rest of the way into the kitchen and pulled out a chair at the table. “I went to the dining room, and while it’s a beautiful room, the idea of eating there alone didn’t really suit. Do you mind if I eat here, with you?”
Did she mind? Part of her yelled, “Hell, yes!” But there was an entreaty in his voice, a loneliness that struck her to her core. Did that explain the shadows in his eyes? The lines drawn on his handsome face?
“No, I don’t mind at all,” she said as smoothly as she could. “I’m sorry, about this. Riley’s a bit out of his usual routine for some reason. Maybe he’s heading for another growth spurt.”
“Riley? That’s his name?”
She must be hearing things. Was that wistfulness in Sam Thornton’s voice?
“Sure is,” she replied, swiftly covering up as Riley disengaged from her and turned to give a milky smile to the newcomer. “Riley James Connell, at your service.”
“May I hold him?”
Erin couldn’t quite disguise her shock. He wanted to hold Riley? In her experience, most men ran a mile from kids at this age, preferring them when they were older, toilet trained and at least partly able to conduct a conver
sation. “Most men” being her late husband, that is.
“Sure, I’ll just need to burp him first,” she said, fixing her clothing with one hand and propping Riley upright on her lap with the other.
“I can do that,” Sam said.
“You’ve done it before?” she asked in surprise.
“No, but how hard can it be?”
The man didn’t know what he was in for. “He still sometimes spits up a bit when he burps.”
“So put a towel on my shoulder,” Sam said nonchalantly. “That is what you do, isn’t it?”
Erin nodded and rose, getting a small towel from a kitchen drawer and giving it to him. He laid it over his shoulder and then held his hands out for Riley, who happily went into the arms of the stranger.
She was unable to tear her gaze from her baby in this man’s embrace. “He’ll be more comfortable if you hold him like so.” She guided one of Sam’s arms under Riley’s diapered bottom. “And if you rub his back with your other hand, holding him against you.”
Sam did as she suggested. It looked wrong, and yet right at the same time, and it reminded her that Riley had missed out on a lot of male contact with his father gone. But should he be getting that contact with Sam Thornton? She didn’t even know the man, yet somehow she instinctively felt she could trust him. When Riley belched, Sam’s face took on a look of pride that made her laugh out loud. You’d have thought it was Sam himself who’d created the hearty sound.
“Wow, the boy can burp,” he said, still gently rubbing the baby’s back.
“And that’s not all,” Erin said, a smile still wreathing her face. “You should see what he does at the other end.”
A look of horror passed over Sam’s features. “I can just imagine. Here, do you want him back?”
“No, I’ll finish getting our meal together. You can put him back in his rocker if you don’t want to keep holding him.”
A Father's Secret Page 2