by Ruth Langan
She gave a slight nod of her head.
“I’m calling you first thing in the morning.”
“If you feel the need to. Good night, Adam.”
He turned away and stalked to the Jeep. When he looked toward the cabin door it was already closed.
On the drive back to the lighthouse, he unleashed a string of rich, ripe oaths, all directed at his careless driving. If he had been the cause of anything serious, he’d never forgive himself.
Of course, if Sidney Brennan had had the good sense not to be riding a bicycle in the middle of the road, when it was too dark to see her, none of this would have happened. Didn’t she have to bear some of the responsibility for this accident, as well?
By the time he’d walked the perimeter of the land around the lighthouse and had satisfied himself that nobody had intruded in his absence, he stepped inside and set the bolts, his temper in full force.
As he built a fire and poured himself a tumbler of whiskey, he tried to rationalize his unreasonable anger. His carelessness had caused an accident that could have been serious. No wonder he’d flown into a rage. After all, he hadn’t yet healed from his own accident, and he was well aware of the kind of pain and suffering a body could be forced to endure because of the actions of another. On top of that, he’d had a rough day at the therapist’s. Added to that was the fact that he was feeling more like a stranger in his own country than he ever had in some of the most primitive places in the world. For all those reasons, he’d merely overreacted.
As he lifted the tumbler for another sip, his hand stilled.
“Liar,” he said aloud. The sound of his voice seemed to echo off the walls. He fell silent for a moment, then tipped back his head and began to chuckle. “Adam Morgan, you lying son of a…” He shook his head again, getting used to the sound of his voice in the empty room.
There was no point in carrying on the lie. He was mad, all right. Mad because, when he’d helped Sidney Brennan up from her fall, his hands had been trembling. Not just from fear, though his first reaction had been a legitimate fear that she’d been hurt. But after he’d been assured that she was all right, he’d wanted, more than anything, to just hold her. And because he knew he had no right to such feelings, he’d resorted to temper, which was much safer.
He’d phone her in the morning as he’d promised, just to assure himself that she was all right. And then, if it killed him, he’d keep his distance, as he’d originally planned.
All of a sudden, after getting too close to the red-haired, green-eyed angel who lived all alone in the woods, the six-month sentence stretching out before him was beginning to look like an eternity.
Chapter
Sidney was wrenched from sleep by the shrill ringing of the telephone. After several attempts to pick it up from the night table with her eyes closed, she was forced to open them, which had her wincing in the glare of sunlight spilling through the windows.
At last she fumbled around and managed to lift the phone to her ear. “Yes. Hello.”
“Sidney?” The sound of her voice, still a little breathless from sleep and confusion, brought an image to Adam’s mind that had him softening his tone. “I was getting worried. How’re you feeling?”
“I don’t know.” When she recognized Adam on the other end of the line, she was instantly alert. “Fine, I guess. I won’t know until I’m awake for a while.”
“Sorry.” He felt his heartbeat begin to steady. “I knew I was taking a chance on waking you, but I had to know whether or not you’d made it through the night with no problems.”
“Thanks for your concern.” She shoved hair from her eyes as she sat up. The dog and cat, who’d been sleeping at the foot of her bed, took that as a signal that she was up for the day, and started racing toward the door in anticipation of their morning run.
Adam’s voice held a note of alarm. “What’s all the noise? Is someone there?”
“Just Picasso and Toulouse, getting ready for another adventure.”
“Sorry. I can see that my timing’s all wrong today.”
Sidney smiled. “I’m a little off schedule myself. I’d better go. If I don’t let my two spoiled animals out, they’ll go stir-crazy.”
When the phone went dead Adam continued to cradle it in his hand while he stared out at the expanse of water. He’d been too agitated to sleep last night. Instead, he’d spent the night working on the changes necessary to turn a utility room into a darkroom. Now that he knew Sidney was fine, he’d have no trouble getting in a few solid hours of sleep.
He made his way to his bedroom and drew the shades, hoping the lack of sunlight would be enough to lull him to sleep.
He’d be a whole lot more comfortable, he thought with a wicked grimace, if Sidney Brennan was here to give him a back rub.
Adam trudged through the woods. Though he’d spent the better part of the day trying to sleep, the image of Sidney had intruded, causing him no end of discomfort. Though he fully intended to stick to his intention of avoiding her, he needed to see just how bruised she was from that encounter with his Jeep. But just for a moment, he promised himself, and then he would leave her to her work and see to his own.
He paused at the edge of the woods and watched her as she sat at her easel. He itched to capture her on film just this way. The laces of her hiking boots peeking out from the hem of her long denim skirt. A tan corduroy jacket layered over a deep green turtleneck. Wind-tossed hair streaming down her back in a cascade of tangles. Her cheeks as red as apples, and her eyes alivecitement. Palette and brush in her hands as she focused on the scene unfolding before her.
Without giving a thought to what he was doing, he’d framed her in his viewfinder and snapped a couple of shots.
Sidney sat perfectly still, her canvas forgotten as she watched the blue heron standing on one foot in the shallows. There was something so patient about this creature, as it stared into the water, waiting for the school of fish to move closer. She’d seen a heron stand that way for half an hour or more until the time was just right to make its move.
Catching herself dreaming, she worked quickly to sketch the shape of the bird and capture that graceful stance. Then she began filling in the form. The tucked-back wing. The piercing stare. The almost haughty lift of head.
Something distracted the heron and it turned, staring directly beyond her before unfurling those magnificent wings and lifting into the air. Within seconds it was sailing high above the water until it disappeared from sight.
Sidney turned to see what had disturbed the tranquil scene.
Adam stood several feet away, his camera dangling from a cord around his neck. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare your model.”
“It’s happened before. He’s a bit skittish.”
“Or else he figured the fishing would be better where it isn’t so crowded.” He stepped closer and took a look at the canvas. “You’ve nailed him, right down to that plume on his head. I’m betting this isn’t the first time he’s posed for you.”
“He’s one of my regulars.” As Adam dropped to his knees to pet Picasso and Toulouse, Sidney smiled at the sight of the dog and cat vying over which of them would get the most number of pats from his big hand. Each time he scratched behind the dog’s ears, Toulouse would intrude himself between them, so that Adam was forced to run a hand along the cat’s back as well.
She hadn’t expected to see him today, and yet she’d nurtured a tiny hope that she might be wrong. All the while she’d been working, the tantalizing thought of Adam had been hovering on the edges of her mind.
He didn’t look nearly as dark and dangerous as he had on their first encounter. Still, that stubble of beard told her he hadn’t taken the time to shave. His hair was still in need of a trim, falling over the collar of his plaid flannel shirt. But now, as he straightened and stepped even closer, Picasso and Toulouse at his heels, there was a softness in his eyes and around his mouth that she hadn’t noticed before. It gave just enough softness to that handsome, ru
gged face to tug at her heart.
A gust of raw wind with just a hint of freezing rain caught her hair, whipping it around her face.
He lifted a hand to sweep it back, then cupped her chin, lifting her face for his inspection. “I was right. You’ve got yourself a beautiful shiner.”
At his touch she was forced to absorb the most amazing rush of heat, and wondered that her bones didn’t simply melt. “Good thing I don’t have to see anybody but you way out here. At least I don’t have to explain how I got this a dozen or more ti
His eyes narrowed on her bright red cheeks. “You’re freezing. How long have you been here?”
When he turned the full force of that intense gaze on her she felt a sudden thrill. As though a laser beam had just been aimed at her heart. “I don’t know. A few hours, I guess.”
He kept his hand there a moment longer, loving the feel of her soft skin against his palm. “How about taking a break?”
“I suppose I could. What did you have in mind?”
“Hot coffee, for one. And maybe some soup to chase away the chill.” He helped her fold up the easel and tucked it, along with the stool, in the ever-present wagon. “Come on. We’ll go to my place. How long since you’ve been inside the lighthouse?”
“Years.” She moved along beside him, feeling a rush of anticipation. “It’s been closed to the public for so long, I was probably in grade school the last time I was there.”
“Then it’s time I gave you a tour.”
With the dog and cat trailing behind, they made their way across the narrow finger of land that jutted out into Lake Michigan and was surrounded on three sides by water.
From the outside, the lower level was a fairly good-size building painted stark white, with red shutters and a red-shingled roof. Rising from the center for a hundred feet or more was the light tower, also white, with a circular railing around the lookout, just below the light dome. The dome, which sat at the very top of the tower, was made entirely of glass, and had served as a beacon for sailors for hundreds of years.
Sidney paused and tipped her head back for a better view. “I’ve always loved the look of this place.”
Adam nodded. “The first time I saw it, I was just a kid. But it was love at first sight.”
“Really?” She didn’t know why his words should warm her so. “I didn’t know you’d ever been here before.”
“I never expected to be back. Who’d have thought that years later I’d be living here?” He didn’t open the door at once, but instead took his time glancing around carefully before unlocking the door and holding it open. “Welcome to my new home.”
When Picasso and Toulouse started to follow she dropped to her knees, prepared to stop them.
“Don’t shoo them away, Sidney. They’re welcome, too.”
She looked up. “Are you sure?”
He nodded. “They need a break from the cold as much as we do.”
“All right.” The minute she moved aside, the animals hurried past her and began nosing around, eager to explore their new surroundings.
Sidney stepped inside and paused in the middle of the room.
Despite the layers of paint that had been added over the years, it looked much as it had when she’d first seen it as a child. Rough-sawn timbers formed the ceiling and walls. Along one wall was a giant fireplace made of local stone. The mantel was a single slab of granite. While she watched, Adam knelt and coaxed a flame from the glowing embers. Within minutes a log was burning, adding soothing warmth to the room.
“I’ll get the coffee started. Or would you rather have hot chocolate? That is,” he added, “if I remembered to buy milk yesterday.”
She shrugged. “Chocolate, if you have it. Coffee if you don’t.”
“I’ll be right back. Make yourself comfortable.”
She did, taking the time to study this place Adam now called home. There was little furniture to speak of. A faded sofa and a wooden rocking chair drawn up close to the fireplace. Over the arm a plaid throw had been carelessly tossed. The hardwood floor was softened by an oval rag rug in shades of russet and brown.
While Picasso and Toulouse started up the stairs, she turned toward the kitchen.
Coffee was already beginning to perk. Adam was removing something from the refrigerator. He turned when he heard her footsteps.
“No milk, so I had to make coffee. If you’d like, I could heat up this morning’s chili. I guarantee it’ll warm you.”
“You had chili for breakfast?” At his nod she laughed. “Hot and spicy, I hope?”
“That’s the only way I know how to make it.”
“Good. That’s the way I like it.”
“My kind of woman.” He filled two bowls and set them in the microwave.
At Sidney’s arched eyebrow, he chuckled. “I know what you’re thinking. I’m sure the historical society had to think long and hard about ruining the rustic look of the place with such a modern appliance, but they knew if they wanted a man to survive the winter here, they’d better include a few conveniences.”
“Are you a good cook?”
When the timer sounded he removed the bowls and set a basket of rolls in their place. “Tolerable when it comes to simple American food. I’m getting really good at Middle Eastern cooking.”
“Why?”
He rummaged in a drawer for flatware. “I’ve spent a lot of time there. When I wasn’t off on assignment, I passed the time at open-air markets, buying whatever was for sale and asking the locals how to cook it.”
“Were they willing to share their recipes with strangers?”
“More than willing. Everywhere I went, I found the people warm and friendly and willing to open their homes, especially when they heard I was an American.”
She couldn’t hide her surprise.
Before she could ask more he removed the rolls from the microwave and handed the basket to Sidney. “Let’s take these to the other room and thaw out in front of the fire.”
Drawing an old wooden bench in front of the sofa, he set down the bowls of chili and left the room, returning minutes later with a pot of coffee and two mugs.
While he filled their mugs, Sidney sat down, grateful for the warmth of the fire.
“I’m so glad you brought me here. This fire feels so good.”
As she and Adam began to eat she couldn’t help sighing. “Oh, this is wonderful. I didn’t even realize how hungry I was, or how cold I was, until this minute.”
“See? Aren’t you glad I came along to save you from cold and starvation?”
They shared a laugh as they dug into their steaming chili.
“About these places you’ve been, Adam.” She sat back to sip her coffee. “Can you speak the language?”
“A little. Enough to get by. When I couldn’t make myself understood, there was always the universal language.”
“What’s that?”
He shrugged. “A hand gesture. A smile. Usually it was a kid who would pick up on a word or phrase they’d heard the soldiers use.”
“Didn’t it hurt to see the children affected by so much war?”
“Sure. But I knew I wasn’t there to snap pretty pictures. My job was to find the reality. And more than that, the humanity.” He fell silent as he shoved aside the empty bowl and picked up his mug, and Sidney worried that she might have upset him by her questions.
A moment later he broke the silence. “They’re beautiful, you know. And so touching.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Who?”
“The children. Funny and stoic and scared and brave. Through cruel dictators and revolutionaries and freedom fighters and peacekeepers, what amazes me is that they just keep on being kids.”
“Do you have photos of them?”
He nodded. “Hundreds, I suppose.”
“I’d love to see them.”
His smile returned. “I’d love to show them to you sometime.”
“Great.” She nodded toward the stairs leading to the upper floo
rs. “Now I think we’d better go in search of Picasso and Toulouse. They’ve been gone a long time, and since the smell of food didn’t bring them running, I can only surmise that they’re up to no good.”
He got to his feet. “Okay, I’ll show you the rest of the place, as long as you promise not to say a word about the mess.”
She stood at the same moment and nearly lost her balance when she found herself pinned between the sofa and his body. “My lips are sealed.”
He reacted instinctively, closing his hands around her upper arms to keep her from stumbling. “Your lips are…” His eyes narrowed, the look in them changing from fun loving to fierce in the blink of an eye. “…the most provocative I’ve ever seen.”
There was no time to step back as he dragged her into his arms and covered her mouth with his in a heart-stopping kiss. For a moment all she could do was stand perfectly still as he contued kissing her until she found herself fighting for breath.
How had her arms found their way around his neck, drawing him even closer? Was it the scrape of his rough beard that excited her, or the press of his strong hands as they moved along her sides? And that mouth. So firm as it took possession of hers.
Her mind was suddenly wiped clear of all thought as she lost herself in his kiss.
She felt the keen edge of excitement, her heart throbbing in her temples, as his thumbs moved up her sides and over her breasts. It was the merest touch, but her body responded as though a switch had been thrown, spreading warmth and light into a room that had been locked in darkness.
It had been so long since she’d allowed a man to kiss her like this. To touch her like this. She was swept by a tidal wave of needs. Needs that, so long denied, had her actually trembling.
Adam knew he needed to step back from the heat. He could feel it, pouring from her to him and back again. And still he lingered over her lips, wanting to fill himself with the sweet, clean taste of her.
As he took the kiss deeper, there was no hesitation in her. She returned his kisses with a hunger that had his heart going into overdrive. And yet, despite her response, he cautioned himself to slow down. Things were moving too far, too fast. Hadn’t he vowed to keep his distance, for her sake? Now here he was, breaking all his own rules. One simple kiss, and he was in over his head and in danger of drowning. Even knowing the danger, all he could think of was taking her. Here. Now.