Passions in the North Country (Siren Publishing Classic)

by Summer Newman

  When he entered Jenny’s room, she was sitting on the bed. To Devon she looked as pretty as a picture, a ripe fruit ready to explode with flavor. She patted the bed beside her and Devon sat down. He would have given anything to love her at that moment, but she seemed suddenly reserved.

  “It’s the sign for the Riverview Hotel,” Jenny said, completely changing gears and shifting downward directly from fifth to first. Devon needed to be brought down slowly because his desire was on supercharge. She stood up and faced him. “I know there’s nothing wrong with the name ‘Riverview Hotel,’ and actually it’s quite appropriate considering that we’re overlooking the river, but I think you should consider changing the name.”

  His visage drained of color. “This hotel has been known as the Riverview Hotel for decades.”

  “Is that what the Captain called it?” Jenny asked, not the least put off by Devon’s objection.

  He paused.

  “Hmm?” Jenny persisted. “The reason I ask is because I was scanning the Captain’s diary and I thought—and I may be wrong about this, so don’t quote me—but I thought I saw a reference to a different name.”

  “The Captain had a different name when he owned it,” Devon conceded.

  “Oh,” Jenny said in her dumb-blonde voice, though Devon was perfectly aware she knew exactly what the Captain had called the hotel. “What did he call it, Devon?”

  “He called it the Ship’s Lodge. That’s what it was known as on the day he died.”

  “Did Maria change the name after he was gone?”

  “Oh, no,” Devon said. “She drew her dying breath in the Captain’s House, behind the Ship’s Lodge.”

  “Who changed the name?”

  Devon looked at her with a naughty glint in his eyes. “That’s quite a sensitive matter.”

  “I want to know,” Jenny said firmly, leaving no room for dispute.

  “Well, if you must know,” he said, an animated expression on his handsome face, “there were rumors going around after the Captain and Maria died.”

  “What kind of rumors?”

  “Rumors of sex between a married man and a nun.”

  Jenny lifted an eyebrow.

  “Rumors of wild sex,” Devon said, nodding meaningfully. “Apparently a fragment of Maria’s diary had been left behind, open to view in a drawer, and it contained some very bawdy descriptions of, how shall I say, meetings between the Captain and Maria. They were all fantasies, but were taken literally. A woman in the church apparently found the document and, unfortunately, she was a sanctimonious, dried-up prune. She threatened to expose the forbidden documents if the church did not denounce and excommunicate Maria.”

  “How do you know all this?” Jenny said, looking hard into his eyes.

  He smiled sexily. “There’s a master document for the hotel and only the owner is allowed to read it. It goes back to the very beginning. But it’s long and written in a flowery hand, quite difficult to read, actually. I wouldn’t be surprised if I was the only one.” He smiled in a charming way. “I read the whole thing.”

  “You’re a great reader, aren’t you?”

  “Not bad,” he said with a laugh.

  “So how did it turn out?”

  “Well, the holier-than-thou bitch insisted she would go public if the local priest did not publically denounce ‘the harlot and the adulterer’—her words exactly, but she was nothing if not a God-fearing woman. The threats worked their way up the food chain and she got an unexpected visit from one of the top guns in the church. That shut her up in a big hurry.

  “There was nothing to be gained by besmirching the sister, she was told, especially as if it would reflect badly on all the good work Maria had done, and, most importantly, going public would harm the church. The woman did not want to upset the church. There were negotiations, the wringing of hands, and in the end the church ended up buying the Ship’s Lodge. They renamed it the Riverview Hotel, then eventually sold it. The woman was appeased because all connection to the past was severed, and the church was happy because none of this would ever get out. What they didn’t realize was that the woman who chronicled the hotel’s history happened to be the one who found the diary. She recorded the whole sordid story in a blow-by-blow account, just for the sake of posterity.”

  “Or to get a jab in at Maria and the Captain.”

  “That’s more like it,” Devon said.

  “It sounds to me like the name ‘Riverview Hotel’ was almost forced on this place. I can’t see you having any genuine affection for it.”

  “What are you getting at?” he asked, studying her pretty face.

  “The sign is old and the paint is almost totally faded. There’s even some graffiti carved on it.” She hesitated. “The sign looks terrible, Devon.”

  “I can touch it up.”

  “It’s more than that,” Jenny said, frustrated. “It’s time for a change.” She looked at him with the most serious expression imaginable. “Sometimes you just have to make a change.”

  “Say what’s on your mind, Jennifer.”

  Only her father had ever called her “Jennifer,” and she always loved it when he did that. The same sense of pleasure filled her when Devon, a stranger in many ways, yet somebody entering her life more and more by the minute, called her “Jennifer.” It created a sense of joy in her, as if they were climbing another wrung on the ladder that is a relationship.

  “For years the owners of the Riverview Hotel let the business fall apart,” Jenny said nervously, hoping to make her pitch convincing. “People have that vision impressed in their minds. I think it’s time for a new name, to show people that there is a new owner with new energy and a new attitude. The sign is the first thing people see. It’s the first impression. I think we need to make a change.”

  Devon eyed her like one of two pirates dividing the gold. “What do ‘we’ have in mind?”

  “I think you should call it an inn.”

  He shrugged. “So you want to call it the Riverview Inn? That’s not such a huge change.”

  “No,” Jenny said firmly. “You want a complete break with what’s happened in the past.”

  “What then?”

  “Since we’re situated in Canada, a northern country, and since this place is a long way from the hustle and bustle of city life, I think you should go with a name that denotes peace and quiet. Something that gives people a vision of purity, a pristine world.”

  “Yes,” he murmured, wondering what she was driving at. “And?”

  She looked hopefully into his eyes. “I was thinking we could call it the North Country Inn.”

  Devon smiled and looked pleased. “You used my name.”

  “Yes,” she acknowledged. “Let’s face it, you’ve put your stamp on this place. Without you it may have been torn down or, if it was left standing, it wouldn’t look anything like it does now. It’s your hotel, Devon.”

  “My inn,” he corrected. “The North Country Inn.”

  “You like the name?”

  He nodded. “I love the name.”

  They looked at each other like giddy teenagers. It was as if they were mutually feeling a sense of belonging to a team, working together for the same goal, enjoying the camaraderie and support. There was also something subtle going on, something that happens only when the stars align. Devon was attracted to her as he had never been attracted to any woman, and she was just as attracted to him. They were silently proud to be seen together and they were at the amazing and exhilarating stage where they could imperceptibly start becoming a lifelong couple, or, just as easily, part on a moment’s notice and never see one another again. That’s where they were. Nothing was settled, no commitments made, but, on the other hand, neither wanted to leave or impede the momentum that was building.

  “Good, we’ll change the sign as soon as possible.”

  He held up a finger. “I have to insist on one thing, though.”

  “What?”

  “I’ll need the price up fro
nt and you need my permission. Agreed?”

  “Agreed.”

  “Give me your word,” he insisted.

  She furrowed her brows, but accepted his terms. “I give you my word.”

  The phone rang. “Excuse me, Devon,” she said, turning her back to him.

  Again he admired her lovely form, so lithe, so impossibly magnetic.

  “Excellent!” she exclaimed, then said “yes” several times in a row.

  Devon was taken with her enthusiasm, but then had the terrible notion that somebody had just offered her a good job. This fear started all of a sudden, then grew by degrees. Maybe she was on her way halfway across the country, or somewhere on the other side of the world. He would never see her again, never again hear her voice. The team was breaking up, disintegrating. How he wanted her to stay! But she was a beautiful butterfly and she had stopped here for a rest on her journey through life. He would not try to stop her. He would only admire her and be thankful for the brief moment in time that they had spent together.

  She hung up and looked at him with glowing eyes. “We got a shot at a fall and winter tour stop!” she exclaimed.

  “What?” he asked, unable to understand her words.

  “Four days a week,” Jenny said, nodding excitedly. “Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday. Rooms for twenty all four days.” She lifted her eyebrows. “After the summer peak! Autumn colors. Skiing and snowmobiling in the winter.”

  “Wow,” Devon said, flabbergasted by her proficiency. “You are good.”

  “So are you,” she suddenly said, the animal coming back into her eyes.

  Jenny spontaneously rose on her tiptoes and kissed him on the mouth. He was surprised and was just about to start kissing her back when she pulled away. He looked blankly at her. She just smiled, then walked out of her room, looking back at him from the top of the steps. “Please lock the door when you leave, dear.”

  He could still smell her aroma deep in the pit of his stomach. As he clutched the knob to close the door, he saw the small stool on which there had always rested a lamp. Jenny had moved the lamp next to the bed to facilitate her reading at night. Now, in its place, was a lacy, see-through black bra and transparent white panties. He could tell by the way they were crumpled that they had been worn. She had removed them and carelessly discarded them there. Devon’s cock sprung to full attention at the mere sight of them. He could almost feel heat and smell sex scent on them. Then he noticed writing and a tiny pink ribbon on the panties. Feeling guilty at violating Jenny’s privacy, but unable to resist it, he unfolded the panties with the tips of his index fingers and thumbs. The pink ribbon was at the top of the front. Below it was a picture of a hot-eyed cat, and below the cat, the words, “Man eating pussy.”

  Devon’s eyes flashed. Feeling conflicted, like an alcoholic unable to resist a drink, he lifted the panties and smelled them where the material had been pressed against her hot, wet sex. They were noticeably wet and had a strong, intoxicating scent.

  “Um,” Devon moaned, his eyes rolling back in his head. His cock was like granite. Devon licked his lips and muttered, “Jenny, I want to fuck you so bad I can taste it.” He then laid down the lacy, skimpy panties and left the room, his mind in a fog, the scent of her hot sex lingering in his nostrils. He sniffed it, breathed it into his mouth, curling the aroma over his taste buds. Never had he smelled anything like it. “Delicious,” he mumbled, his eyes half-closed. “You are the sexiest woman I’ve ever met.”

  As Devon locked the downstairs door to Maria’s room, Jenny walked up to him. “What took you so long?” she asked. “I thought you were right behind me.”

  He was flustered, but had to think quickly. “I just paused to look around your room,” he said. “For many years no one has lived there, and I was just thinking of how nice it was to see signs of life.”

  “What a nice thing to say,” she replied with a bright smile. She laughed and slightly tapped his arm. “And all this time I thought you were up to no good.”

  He laughed as if that was the craziest thing he had ever heard.

  “You know, Mr. North, when I first met you, you were a downright ogre, but there are glimpses, brief, mind you, where I think you may someday be civilized.”

  “Civilized maybe, domesticated never,” he answered challengingly.

  “That would be fine by me,” Jenny said. “I want a man, not a pack mule. What kind of woman do you want, Mr. North?”

  He looked at her with a sincere expression, as though all the games were over. “A woman like you,” he said.

  Jenny pulled back, startled. “Two compliments in one day! Should I call a doctor, Mr. North, or is there a chance the ice around your heart is starting to melt?”

  He laughed at her but did not respond.

  “You know what I really like about you?” she asked, slipping off her sunglasses.

  “You like something about me?” he said, touching his heart. “Yes, Ms. Lamb, please do call a doctor.”

  “I like a lot of things about you,” she said with the casual air of a diva. “You know how to change tires, you’re nice to Miriam, and, most of all, you’re not possessive.”

  “I’m not,” he said seriously, shaking his head. “If I was involved with a woman and she wanted to walk away at any time, I would never stop her. I would never force myself on anyone, no matter how much I loved her. But not all men are like that, are they, Jenny?”

  She did not respond.

  “Sometimes women have it so bad they literally have to run away.”

  “My biggest turnoff is jealousy,” she said. “Any sense of ownership makes me feel imprisoned.”

  “You don’t want to be domesticated either.”

  “Oh, I don’t mind being domesticated,” Jenny said, “but it has to be because I want the domestic life. I don’t like feeling forced.”

  “Me either,” he said casually. “There’s no shame in that.”

  “What’s your biggest turnoff?” she asked, feeling incredibly close to Devon.

  “Deception,” he said flatly.

  “I wouldn’t cheat on my husband,” Jenny said. “You could take that to the bank.”

  “Not even in your fantasies?”

  She was surprised by the question. “Would you? Would you fantasize about women other than your wife?”

  “Sure, I would. I’m not dead. And I wouldn’t expect, or even want, my wife to be. I’d have fun with it.”

  “How much fun?” she asked, eying him.

  “In a hypothetical way?” Devon suggested.

  “Yes, in a hypothetical way. What would you let your wife think?”

  “She could think whatever she wants,” Devon said, “because those are her thoughts and in the end she answers to herself. But, in a hypothetical way, if you were my wife, for instance, and you were a hot woman, just for the sake of argument, and if you wanted to fantasize about being with the Captain while I was with Maria, I would, as they say, have no problem with that. To me it would be fun and playful, and to me sex should be fun and playful. It’s a time when a man and a woman can totally forget the world and express themselves to each other, openly and without inhibition. That is, to me, true romance, because it requires true trust.”

  “Interesting concepts, Mr. North.”

  “Not only concepts,” he said, “but practices.”

  She had to put him to the ultimate test. “If we were in Europe on vacation and went to a nude beach, what would you think if I took off my bathing suit and walked naked in front of other men?”

  “Would you like to do that?”

  “Sometimes,” she said, her eyes glittering.

  “Then I’d like it,” he said. “They look, but I get to touch.”

  “Yes, that’s how it would be,” she said, her heart pounding.

  “And if you were married to me,” Devon said playfully, “and I walked au naturel on a nude beach in front of fifty women, you would not be jealous?”

  “No,” she said. �
��It would make me horny.” The second she said it, she regretted it. It was like a Freudian slip, a thought that snuck out of her mind and jumped out her mouth. She blushed a deep crimson. “I have to go. Bye.” She walked away with her head down, a frantic look on her face. “What am I doing?” she grumbled under her breath. “What’s gotten into me? He must think I’m some kind of cheap ass bitch.”

  “Ms. Lamb,” Devon said.

  She didn’t turn around because she was being impolite, but because Jenny Ashbury literally did not recognize the name. It didn’t register.

  “Ms. Lamb!” Devon called a little louder.

  The light came on. She stopped and faced him, feeling mortified. “Yes?”

  “Thank you,” he said with a strange look on his face.

  “For what?” she asked, almost in an unfriendly way.

  “For coming into my life,” he said.

  The world stood still. She had felt embarrassed, but he had not deserted ship. On the contrary, he was liking what she brought. She could see it in his eyes, the fascination, the attraction, the excitement. Everywhere life was going on, melting one day into the next, people scurrying about in all directions, not a thought for Devon or Jenny, but here he was, bigger than life, handsome, sexy, interesting, and this man, this incredible man, was totally focused on her. She had entered his life, first as a moon in orbit around his planet, but now it was much more, much, much more.

  “I like you just the way you are,” Devon said.

  She smiled, surprised and exhilarated. “I like you, too, Devon.”

  He smiled, nodded, then went back to work. Jenny got into her car, stole a glance at Devon, now rounding the other side of the hotel, then noticed him glancing at her. Like him she quickly turned away, a surge of awkwardness washing over her. They were at the crucial stage. Either cross the line and let the fires burn, or play it safe and keep their distance. Neither of them was sure what they wanted to do, but neither wanted it to end, that’s for sure.