by Cara Summers
Turning to face him, she threw her hands up in the air. “If they’re afraid of a ghost, why do they want to buy the place?”
“Good question.”
The path was leading them in circles now, concentric circles. Then she took an abrupt left through a narrow gap in the hedge, and they were suddenly in a larger space. Water spilled from a fountain at one end, catching sunlight as it fell. Flowers bloomed in beds surrounding the fountain and bordering the hedges. A stone bench offered seating on the other side of the fountain.
She’d led them to the center of the maze. Ian wondered if she was even aware of it. Had that been her destination the whole time?
“I should have found a way to take them up to the tower. If I had, Hattie might have poked a few holes in their plan to buy the place. I was such a sucker to believe that this was my big chance.”
The sound of a helicopter overhead had them both glancing up.
“Hold my hands,” she said.
He took them, holding tight while the helicopter circled, then flew out of their sight.
“Thanks,” she murmured. “I’m still so angry with them.”
“You have a right to be. And you’re not a sucker.” Keeping one of her hands in his, he drew her to the other side of the fountain and eased her down on the bench. “They had a good reputation. You believed them to be honest.” And if they weren’t honest about this, what else weren’t they being honest about? He’d put Cody Marsh on that, too.
For the first time, she glanced around and seemed to realize where they were. “How did we end up here?”
“You tell me,” Ian said. He released her hand because the urge was growing to pull her close and just hold her. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could resist.
An hour ago when she’d sought out Avery behind the registration desk, she’d very nearly broken his concentration. He’d managed not to look at her, but he’d felt her each time she’d moved past him. He’d come very close to losing track of what he’d been working on.
“I just followed your lead,” he said. “If I had to make a guess, I’d say that you were headed here from the get-go.”
For a moment, there was silence between them, broken only by the soothing splash of the water, the low hum of bees in the flower beds. Ian watched the tension begin to ease out of her.
“You’re probably right. This is my favorite spot on the island. My sisters and I each have one. A place that’s special. Naomi’s is a stretch of very private beach. For Reese, it’s the far edge of the garden when the cliffs fall away to the sea. But I like it here. Finding the center is a challenge—we warn the guests to take their cell phones in case they need to be escorted out.”
“You told Matthew that you restored it. How did you manage that?”
“It was all here when I found the place—just overgrown. I discovered a drawing of the original in one of the large chests in the ballroom. It was very detailed. Everything you see here was in it. So I hired a local landscaper to bring it back to life.”
“You enjoy restoring things.”
“Yes.” She turned to face him then. “I do enjoy it. I like finding the antiques, too, but they’re a means to an end. My real passion lies in bringing back parts of the past so we can enjoy them now. And I like helping other people enjoy them, too. It took me a while to figure it out, but opening the retail store will help me to do that. Of course, I could fall flat on my face.”
“You won’t. You’re too good at what you do.”
Jillian simply stared at him.
Ian’s eyes narrowed. “What’s the matter? Did I say something wrong?”
“No. It’s just I’m a late bloomer when it comes to zeroing in on a career goal. And I’m still testing my wings. The only people who’ve told me that I’m good at what I’ve done here at the hotel are my sisters. And they have to say that. They love me. And Avery—my hotel manager—well, it’s the same thing there. He’s my best friend. He thinks I can walk on water.”
“And you thought the Jenkins duo were saying that when they wanted a meeting.”
“Exactly.”
“And now that you’ve met them, why in the world would you put any stock in what they say or think?”
Her eyes widened first. Then her smile bloomed slowly until it lit her face, her eyes, and finally her laughter filled the air.
It was Ian’s turn to simply stare. He hadn’t thought of her as beautiful before. Pretty? Yes, in a pert, Reese Witherspoon/Legally Blonde kind of way. But with the sun haloing her hair and laughter filling her eyes, she was quite simply stunning. His mouth went dry and his heart took a little lurch.
He was still staring when she laid a hand on his arm and gave it a friendly pat. “Thanks.”
“For what?”
“You’re helping me put the Jenkins fiasco in perspective. I’m not quite over the rejection, but I’ll survive. I usually do.”
“You’re experienced at rejection, then?”
Her smile was wry. “Very. I have the pink slips and Dear Jill letters to prove it.” She pressed her free hand against her stomach. “And I’m still very nervous about opening my own store. I haven’t admitted that to anyone. That’s one of the reasons I was so thrilled when Matthew called me. I saw working for the colonel and his son as a way to build my reputation quickly. But the retail store will do that. It’ll just take more time.”
Turning, she smiled at him. “You deserve more than my thanks. You deserve an apology, as well.”
“For what?”
“I never should have unloaded all of this stuff on you.”
He shrugged. “Who better?”
“But you’re a…relative stranger.”
“Right. When you vent to someone you know, someone who cares about you, they worry. Strangers don’t have to.”
He felt it the instant the atmosphere around them changed, charged. The pulse at her throat had speeded up. His own sprinted to keep up. The hand she’d laid in such a friendly way on his arm tightened—just slightly. He felt the press of each one of her fingers.
“That’s right. Strangers don’t have to get mixed up in all that emotional baggage.”
This close her eyes were more gray than blue. They reminded him of mists that sometimes clung to the ground in the early light of dawn.
“You left my room last night,” she said.
He braced himself for the question—why? He wasn’t sure he’d answered it to his own satisfaction.
“I understand. You don’t want emotional entanglements. I don’t, either. But I want you to come back tonight. No strings. No hassles. Just come.” Her lips curved. “You don’t have to use the balcony.”
“What if I said I can’t…”
Jillian felt something tighten in the back of her throat and around her heart.
“I can’t wait until tonight,” he continued.
Relief and excitement surged through her as she started to rise. “We can go to my room.”
He stilled her by framing her face with his hands. “I can’t wait for that, either.”
Then his mouth was feathering kisses over her jaw, along the curve of her throat to nip at her ear. “I was thinking of here.”
“Here?” The possibility triggered that dark thrill again.
“Now.” The word, barely a whisper over her lips, shot heat right down to her toes. “I’ve been thinking of doing this ever since you led me in here.”
“We’ll have to be quick.”
His hands already were, stripping her T-shirt over her head. Then he paused to stare. Jillian had told herself that she’d chosen the red lace bra for herself. But it had been a lie. The heat of his gaze on her skin, the fires that erupted as he traced a finger over the cup and lingered on her nipple—this was why she’d worn it.
He met her eyes then. “If I’d known about this, we wouldn’t have made it to the center.”
“There’s more.” Her voice sounded breathless.
“Yeah. There is. Let me show you
.” He gripped her waist, lifted her to her knees on the bench. Then his mouth clamped over her breast to suckle her through the mix of satin and lace. Arrows of heat, slivers of ice shot through her.
Someone moaned as she dug her fingers into his shoulders and arched back. His mouth was all she could think of. She had to have more. Even when those clever lips left her breast to streak down her torso, it still wasn’t enough.
She needed to touch him, too. She ran her hands over his shoulders around to his back. Muscles bunched beneath her palms. Desperate for the feel of his flesh, she struggled with the buttons of his shirt while he freed her belt.
Then with an impatience that sent a dizzying streak of pleasure through her, he rose, dragging her with him so that they stood toe to toe on the grass. His hands were faster than hers, dragging her bra up over her head and making quick work of her slacks. Even as they pooled at her feet, their fingers tangled to tug at the snap of his jeans. “Wait.”
She was vaguely aware that he slipped a foil packet out of his pocket and laid it on the bench, but she kept her focus on getting him out of his clothes. Above the hum of the bees and the soft splash of the fountain, she found the rip of a button, the rasp of a zipper, the brush of denim over skin incredibly erotic.
Then she was beneath him on the grass.
“Now.” The word strangled in her throat as he crushed her mouth with his. But she barely had time to absorb the quick, almost violent nip of teeth on her bottom lip before he moved on.
With the tip of his tongue, he traced patterns, tempting, tormenting patterns over her breasts, down her torso. At the same time, his fingers mimicked the movements on her inner thigh. Her head spun with the flood of sensations. She could feel everything—the shift of sun and shadow on her eyelids and shoulders, the occasional droplet of water from the fountain, the scrape of his teeth and nails as his mouth moved lower, his hand higher. All the while, she wanted more, craved more.
And he gave and gave and gave.
Then suddenly, when she thought she could no longer bear the pleasure, his mouth and hands found her core and his tongue pierced her. Her body contracted violently, then filled with an explosion of heat as the climax tore through her.
He dug his fingers into her hips and started a lingering line of kisses up her body. She was trembling, her breath ragged, her skin damp.
When he was above her, he paused. Shifting just enough, he dealt with the condom. “Jillian.”
She forced her eyes to focus.
“Come with me,” he murmured.
She wrapped arms and legs around him, and when he entered her, they moved together toward the fire.
10
JILLIAN WASN’T SURE HOW long she’d lain there with grass tickling her back and her stranger’s heart beating beneath the palm of her hand. Or how much longer she could afford the luxury of doing so before someone found their way into the center of the maze and discovered one of the hotel’s owners naked in the grass.
But she didn’t want to move. Not yet. “I’ve never done anything like this.”
“It wasn’t exactly what I’d planned.”
Curious, she levered herself up so that she could look into his eyes. “You had a plan? Don’t keep me in suspense.”
“It wasn’t detailed—just sort of broad strokes. But there was a bed involved. And more time.” His smile had her toes curling again. But his answer had only brought back her earlier questions. He could have made love to her in a bed if he hadn’t left….
She pushed away the thought because it wasn’t fair. She’d promised no strings, no hassles, hadn’t she? Better to switch the subject. “I was thinking about the Jenkinses.”
“I thought perhaps I’d succeeded in getting them out of your mind.” He wound one of her curls around his finger. “But I could give it another try.”
She grinned at him. “I’m sure you could. But we’ve probably pushed our luck here far enough.”
“Yeah.”
Neither one of them moved. Jillian found herself wanting to prolong the moment. “One thing about the Jenkinses puzzles me, though.”
“Only one?”
“They’re smart business men. During the last ten years, they’ve built their reputation by locating and buying properties they could then renovate into successful hotels. The colonel was born on the island, and he has memories of this place. Close, personal memories. I’m almost sure he remembered the fireplace in the library, and he certainly remembered something about the maze. He may have been a child, but I think he was actually in Hattie’s house while she lived here.”
“According to what I’ve found out, she was a recluse.”
“So they say. But I saw the way Colonel Jenkins looked at this maze. He said when he was a child, he thought of Haworth House as a castle where a princess lived, a princess who needed rescuing. So he’s never forgotten this place. My question is why did he wait until now to think about buying it?”
“Perhaps the memory was buried deep until that wave of publicity you got a month ago brought it all back.”
“Perhaps.” She frowned for a minute. In the short silence, there was the distant sound of a laugh.
They sat up. Jillian found her thong still draped around one of her ankles and wiggled into it. “But buying it now—at twice the price they would have had to pay a year ago—it breaks their pattern. It’s not what they normally do.” Locating her bra at the end of the bench, she pulled it on. “I’d love to know why.”
She turned to find he’d pulled on his jeans and was in the process of buttoning his shirt. And that was when the idea struck her.
“Maybe you could help me find out.”
When he jerked his gaze to hers and stared at her, she hurried on. “You’re doing research on Haworth House. Avery mentioned you at dinner last night. He said you’d be interviewing members of the staff and locals in the village on their perceptions of the place and what they remember of its history. That was what you were doing in town yesterday, right?”
“Right.”
“Well, I think Colonel Jenkins has a history here and it might be connected to why he’s developed a sudden interest in buying the place. There have to be people who remember something about him. Isn’t that just the kind of thing you’re interested in?”
Ian hesitated. Looking into Colonel Jenkins’s past connection to Haworth House was definitely on his agenda. But looking into Jillian’s eyes wasn’t conducive to making a rational decision.
“I’ll pay you for your time.”
Ian was sure he felt a pit opening beneath his feet. If he agreed to her proposal, he’d be working for Avery and her at the same time. And the situation between them was already complicated enough.
“If you’re too busy—well, I can understand that.”
He saw the hurt in her eyes before she glanced away. He was already reaching for her arm when she said, “I’ll poke around a little myself.”
“Whoa. Slow down a minute.” He couldn’t allow that. “I’ll do it.”
“Great.” She beamed a smile at him. “Do we need to draw up some kind of contract or will a handshake do?”
“A handshake will be fine.”
He’d no sooner gripped her hand when they both heard it—a rustle in the bushes very close by. A startled bird shot out of the hedge just behind them.
She might have squealed if he hadn’t clamped a hand over her mouth. But it wasn’t until he handed her slacks and her T-shirt to her that she remembered she was wearing only her thong and a bra. She thought the sound had come from their left. The entrance to the center of the maze was to their right. Wiggling into the slacks, she calculated their potential visitor had about twenty-five yards to cover. Which would take—what? Thirty seconds?
“Quiet.” He’d leaned over to whisper in her ear as he drew her down into a crouched position.
They were in the space between the bench and the flower bed that edged the fountain, fairly well concealed—but the person on the other
side of the hedge was getting closer. She’d just pulled the T-shirt over her head when there was a final rustle. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the ripple of branches in the hedge to their right as time ran out. Someone had joined them in the center of the maze.
It was too late to make it to the bench. And it wasn’t going to take a genius to figure out what the two of them had been doing behind the fountain. This wasn’t the first time her impulsive nature had gotten her into a jam, but it might prove the most embarrassing.
Jack placed a hand over hers to still any further movement. Then he gestured her to get under the bench. Something softened inside her when she realized he was going to cover for her.
But he didn’t stand. Instead, he lowered himself close to the ground and stretched out to his right. Her initial puzzlement was replaced by a flash of understanding. From that angle he could probably get a look at who had just joined them. Then he could figure out how to play it.
The sudden tension in his body, the slow, careful way he levered himself back into a crouched position told her he didn’t like what he saw.
Why not? The question lingered in her mind as time froze. Seconds ticked by, and the only sounds marring the silence were the hum of insects and the splash of water. Whoever it was on the other side of the fountain wasn’t moving.
Neither were they. Her fear of embarrassment gave way to a different kind of fear.
Then there was a rustle, another ripple in the hedge to their right. Whoever it was had left. She barely had time to register that before the hissing sound. Even as Jack clamped a hand on her arm to pull her from beneath the bench, tendrils of thick smoke reached through the flowers in front of them.
“Don’t talk. Don’t breathe.”
Since she wasn’t sure she could get either breath or words past the knot in her throat, she followed orders. He dragged her to her feet and yanked her with him, not toward the entrance but to the hedge behind them.
He plunged his arms into the branches and used the full weight of his body to bend them to the side. The smoke was spreading fast. Her eyes were stinging, her vision blurring as she climbed through the hedge. With his palm on the small of her back, he guided her right into the next hedge. This time he went through first, then held the branches away as she followed.