“I don’t care,” she told his fellow smoke jumper, who was, she’d duly noted, in his own way as irresistibly sexy as Sean was. No wonder Rose was doomed.
Martini ignored her and typed on his iPhone.
“Who are you texting?”
“Sean,” Nick said. “I’m telling him your coach is about to turn back into a pumpkin and I’m out of here. You’re from the sticks. You like pumpkins, don’t you?”
Hannah wasn’t succumbing to his charms and said, nonchalant, “Rose says hello.”
“No, she doesn’t.”
“You’re right. She doesn’t.”
Nick kept typing.
“Her brothers don’t know about you two,” Hannah said. “Sean included.”
“Blackmailing me?”
She sat up straight. “Wait. Maybe I don’t know.”
He grinned at her. “Some kind of hanging judge you’ll make.”
“Rose is one of my best friends. She doesn’t tell me everything, but enough. I just want to say her brothers wouldn’t be pleased if someone took advantage of their grieving sister.”
“By ‘wouldn’t be pleased’ you mean ‘kill dead.’ How is Rose?”
His dark eyes had softened. Whatever had gone on between Rose and Nick, he was worried about her now. Or doing a decent job of pretending to be. “I don’t know,” Hannah said. “She keeps to herself a lot these days.”
“I would, too, with three older brothers and all that’s happened this past year. All set. Climb out. Enjoy yourself.”
“I can’t afford to stay in this place for two hours, never mind one night.”
Martini grinned at her. “No, you can’t.”
Hannah realized her mistake. “I’ve been set up, haven’t I?”
“Nice to meet you, Hannah. I hope you never have to prosecute me for so much as a speeding ticket in Vermont. How cold is it there?”
“Seven degrees when I left.”
He grinned at her. “You’re going to love Southern California. Welcome.”
Hannah got out and grabbed her suitcase from the back. A sign in the elegant lobby indicated that many of the well-dressed people streaming out of the hotel had just attended a fund-raising dinner for volunteer firefighters.
Sean appeared behind an older couple. Her breath caught at the sight of him in his tuxedo. This was another Sean Cameron from the one she knew. He smiled at her. “Am I seeing things, or is that Hannah Shay?”
“Hello, Sean.”
He picked up her suitcase. “You’re staying with me.” When she started to protest, he shook his head. “No argument. I’m irritable enough being in this damn tux. Let’s go.”
“Sean, I appreciate the gesture—”
“Let’s go.”
She grinned at him. “Ah, yes. I know these Camerons when they get that stubborn set to their jaws. No point arguing.”
Sean softened his expression. “I’m trying to be hospitable.”
“Hospitable is ‘Hannah, I’d love to invite you to stay at my house.’”
“Hannah,” Sean said, repressing a smile, “I’d love to invite you to stay at my house. I have plenty of room, and it’d be a pleasure.”
She laughed. “That’s better, but I can’t—”
“You can,” Sean said.
“For Devin’s sake, then. I think he’s a little homesick.”
“He’s gone mountain biking with Toby for a few days.”
Hannah smiled in amused disbelief. “Okay. So he’s not even a little homesick.”
“Nick and I encouraged him to see some of California and get in shape if he wants to be a smoke jumper. Toby doesn’t want to admit how excited he is to have you here for his upcoming race.”
“I’m excited, too.”
The valet brought Sean’s car, and he opened the front passenger door for Hannah. She hesitated, but he put his arm on her shoulder and she got in. A woman who obviously knew him waved from the walk as she switched from her high heels to a pair of running shoes. “That’s the way to do heels.” Hannah looked over at Sean. “You fit right in with that tux.”
“Different uniforms for different occasions.”
“I don’t have that many excuses to dress up. It’s fun sometimes. We’re having a Valentine’s Day celebration at the café. I’ll dress up for that.” Her eyes sparked with sudden humor. “I might even buy a pair of ruby-red high heels on Rodeo Drive and wear them.”
“It’s not helpful for my driving,” Sean muttered, “picturing you in red high heels.”
“Beth and Dominique want us to wear red aprons. Red aprons and red high heels. Kind of sexy, don’t you think?”
Sean cleared his throat and kept driving.
Devin had described Sean’s house in detail, and Hannah was prepared. He showed her to a quiet room on the first floor, and she set her suitcase in the middle of the floor and looked restless. “If you packed a swimsuit,” Sean said, “feel free to make use of the pool. It’s heated.”
Sean waited, restless, by the pool. Finally Hannah walked out onto the terrace in an oversize T-shirt, with her slim, pale white New England winter legs. It was a warm night for Los Angeles in January but still relatively cool. She didn’t seem to notice as she dipped a toe in the pool. Her toenails were painted watermelon-pink.
Sean smiled. “You knew what you were getting into coming out here.”
“So I did.”
Without a second’s hesitation or a hint of self-consciousness, she dove into the still, blue water. Sean watched her breaststroke underwater, her movements strong and sure. She surfaced, splashing him, laughing.
“You’re going to ruin my tux,” he said.
“Then maybe you should take it off.”
He needed no more encouragement and was out of it in seconds and into the water, swimming to her, his mouth finding hers. “Don’t say anything,” he whispered.
She eased her arms around him. “I have to say this one thing.” Her eyes held his as she continued. “I’d never have made it these past seven years without the support I received from so many people. Sean…” She kissed him lightly. “I often thought I was alone, but I never was.”
He couldn’t breathe. “Hannah…”
“I love you,” she said. “In some ways, I always have.”
He smiled. “I know what you mean. Latin class…” He was aware of her slipping off her swimsuit and was glad they were in five feet of water and not ten, or he was sure he’d have drowned. “I love you, Hannah. I want to be with you. Here, Vermont—wherever you are.”
“Home is Vermont,” she said, “but this is good. The pool, the bougainvillea, the sunshine. You.” Her swimsuit was gone now, and she wrapped her legs around his hips and sank onto him. “This is very good.”
“It is,” Sean said, knowing there was nowhere he’d rather be at that moment than right where he was, with Hannah Shay in his arms.
Dear Readers,
Thank you for reading COLD RIVER! I hope you enjoyed the story and are wondering what’s next for the Camerons, the Harpers, the Shays, their friends…and their enemies. Rose Cameron and her golden retriever, Ranger, a search-and-rescue dog, take center stage in COLD DAWN, my next Black Falls novel, due out in late 2010. As private and competent as her three brothers, Rose is coming off a tough year, and big challenges await her.
We’ll also get to see A.J., Elijah and Sean Cameron in COLD DAWN, as well as learn more about Navy SEAL Ryan “Grit” Taylor and Charlie Neal, the genius, incorrigible son of the vice president of the United States. Look for the return of Secret Service agent Jo Harper and the “sisters” of Three Sisters Café, too. Jo and Elijah Cameron, of course, played a central role in COLD PURSUIT, the first Black Falls novel, which introduces this fictional small town in my home state of Vermont.
Also in 2010, the paperback edition of my New York Times bestseller THE MIST will be out in June. The book features Lizzie Rush, a hotelier whose spy father taught her everything he knows, as she goes after a mis
sing billionaire out for violent revenge…and takes on mysterious Will Davenport, who lives by his own personal code and answers to no one.
As I write this note, I’m working on THE WHISPER, the follow-up to THE MIST, and loving being back in this “world” of Boston detectives, FBI agents, Irish folklorists, eccentric hoteliers and spies. If you’re new to this series, the first two books, THE WIDOW and THE ANGEL, are both out in paperback now.
Finally, I’m thrilled to see ON FIRE returning to print in February, with a gorgeous new cover. Set on the coast of Maine—one of my favorite places—the story pits oceanographer Riley St. Joe and FBI agent John Straker against a very clever and dangerous killer.
Thank you again, and I hope you enjoy escaping into these “worlds” I’ve created!
Happy reading,
Carla
For all my latest news and to enter my monthly contest, please visit my Web site at www.CarlaNeggers.com. If you wish to write me by mail, please address any correspondence to: PO Box 826, Quechee VT 05059
ISBN: 978-1-4268-4422-5
COLD RIVER
Copyright © 2009 by Carla Neggers.
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, MIRA Books, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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