by Donna Fasano
This was total lunacy. She knew it just as surely as she knew her own name.
“Tori Landing,” she muttered sternly under her breath, “you should be ashamed of yourself. Completely ashamed, and I mean it.”
However, the reprimand only had her pulling down a branch for a better view.
You’re despicable. You’re nothing more than a Peeping Tom. It’s atrocious.
“It’s not all that bad.”
It’s against the law, the silent voice warned.
“No, it isn’t,” she murmured right back. “He’s swimming nude right out in public. Right out where everyone can see.”
Everyone? She reminded herself he was on Kolheek property. And so was she.
Tori pressed her lips together. Her conscience was right. She was trespassing.
But did she close her eyes? Did she turn around and go home? She did not. What she did was murmur, “Shut up, you, and let a girl have a little fun.”
Just then sunlight glinted golden on his wide, powerful back and he kicked up his feet, disappearing beneath the surface of the water.
Tori waited—and waited. Forever, it seemed. Mild alarm crept over her. No human could hold his breath this long. He could be caught on a sunken branch. He could have struck his head, be lying unconscious on the sandy bottom. She waited a little longer, about the span of ten panicky heartbeats. Then she moved from behind the berry brambles and inched her way closer to the edge of the lake.
Water lapped at the toes of her canvas sneakers. Her gaze searched the smooth surface, but she didn’t see a single ripple. Panic welled, and she wondered if she should wade out into the lake or run home to telephone for help.
A subtle masculine cough sounded behind her, and she whirled around.
His eyes were as black as pure onyx, just as she remembered, and her breath snagged in her throat. Startled by his sudden appearance, she was wide-eyed and nervous. She was relieved beyond belief to realize that he hadn’t drowned. Her eyes slid down the length of his wet body. In the back of her mind she was both grateful and disappointed that a pair of damp, low-slung shorts covered his manly bits.
Oh, Lord, she was mortified that he’d caught her. Peeping at him through the bushes like a common…
Hey. Wait just a second. Maybe he didn’t know she’d been watching him. Maybe he simply…
Fat chance, she instantly realized. The humorous, all-knowing glint suddenly flashing in his midnight eyes told her she’d been found out. Caught red-handed. The best way to save face, she decided on a whim, was to go on the offensive.
“You scared the life out of me,” she accused, plunking her fists on her hips. “I thought you were done for out there when you didn’t come up for air.”
His dark brows rose, and a quick bolt of pleasure shot through her when she realized she’d taken him off guard. But then one corner of his sexy mouth quirked up and she knew he’d regrouped.
“As you can see…”
He wasn’t working very hard to cover the amusement in his tone.
“The, ah, source of your entertainment—”
His eyes took on a teasing glint and the flirtation in his gaze made her toes curl.
“—is just fine.”
Yes, he is mighty fine, a naughty voice in her head commented.
Tori had to tuck her top lip between her teeth to contain her mirth. She should not be laughing. She should be ashamed. Dreadfully so. But for some reason, she wasn’t. Instead, there seemed to be a playful child in her just bursting at the seams to get out.
“Yes,” she told him, “I can see that.”
Obviously recognizing the compliment just as she intended it, he smiled then, and it seemed as if she was feeling the full heat of the sun for the first time in her whole life. He had a wonderful smile. A gorgeous smile. A smile that made a woman’s thoughts go completely blank.
After a moment she forced herself to admit, “I guess I owe you an apology. But, you know, you really shouldn’t be swimming, um, all natural like out here where everyone can see.”
His brows rose again. “Everyone?”
“Well, okay.” She yielded the point, not failing to note that his observation mirrored her very own argument with her conscience just moments before. She amended, “Where I can see, then.”
Lifting his golden chin, he laughed. The sound of it made her go all shivery. She laughed, too.
“Point taken,” he finally said.
“Victoria Landing.” She offered him her hand. “Everyone calls me Tori.”
His palm slid into hers, and she was walloped with a quavering swelter.
“I own a B&B not too far away.” She hoped the turmoil taking place inside her wasn’t evident in her voice.
“Freedom Trail?”
The surprise that shot through her showed on her face, she was sure. “You’ve heard of my place?”
“I grew up on the rez. The B&B has been in operation for years, hasn’t it?”
She nodded. “Freedom Trail has always been my home. My parents met a little later in their lives. They married and bought the B&B. My sister and I were both born there.” She smiled. “We had a ball growing up around here.”
“Your parents still running the place?”
“No,” she told him. “They’ve retired to Florida.” She shoved away the painful thoughts of the funeral that had so drastically changed all of their lives.
“So,” he said, “you and your sister run the place?”
It was an innocent guess on his part. Tori’s lips compressed into a thin line, and she took a deep breath. “No. My sister died five years ago.”
“I’m sorry.”
Sympathy turned his eyes a soft sable. Tori constantly feared questions about Susan. Questions she wasn’t quite strong enough to answer without feeling guilty and getting teary eyed and upset, even after all this time. The best thing to do was change the subject.
“So, um,” she hedged, “what should I call you?”
Other than my night prince, the mischievous voice in her head added.
He looked contrite. “I’m sorry. I’m Chay. Chay Makwa.”
She knew the Makwa family. They were prominent members of Misty Glen Reservation, and she knew Dr. Dakota and Sheriff Mat. And also the shaman, the wise and gentle Grayson. They had all helped her at one time or another since she’d started her clandestine operation. But Chay’s name sounded more familiar to her than it should, and she couldn’t put her finger on why exactly.
Then, like a bolt of lightning from the blue, it struck her. Chay Makwa’s name had been printed in the local newspaper when the Kolheek Community Center was being planned. He and his contracting company had received some bad press locally when he’d refused to come from Boston to the reservation to help build the center. Then several months ago she’d read about him again, something about a tragic accident that had happened on one of his job sites. An accident that had landed his company in court. The journalist had actually had the audacity to suggest that fate had somehow paid Chay back for his repudiation. The whole business, with its one-sided commentary, had left a bad taste in her mouth.
Tori remembered thinking what a shame it was for the reporter to write such a vicious thing about someone who was given no chance to defend himself. Still, she’d also remembered wondering why a member of the Kolheek tribe—a strongly cohesive community—would refuse to help his people.
Although she smiled at Chay Makwa, she suspected the thoughts running through her head caused a crease to form on her brow.
Chay fancied himself a people person. In his line of work, interacting with all kinds of people day in and day out, he had to be. He was good at sensing the ever-changing human disposition. He could read faces, decipher body language, and he had watched Tori Landing run the gamut of emotions this morning.
He’d been delighted to see her smooth porcelain skin tinge pink with embarrassment when he’d slipped up behind her. She’d made a meager attempt at defensiveness, but those blu
e eyes had sparkled with a teasing that had his whole body thrumming with awareness. But right now, he sensed, she was disturbed.
The kiss they had shared last night had rocked him to the marrow. She’d filled his thoughts for hours. She’d even invaded his dreams. And that had turned out to be both a blessing and a curse. Her invasion had overpowered the vague and haunting nightmare that had been plaguing him lately. But even though his dreams of her had replaced his frightening vision, he’d still ended up waking with his heart pounding, his mind pleading for answers.
Some of the niggling questions he’d had about her were answered now, like her name, where she lived. He also realized that the darkness and the lake mist hadn’t been playing tricks on his eyes when they’d first met. She was just as gorgeous as he’d remembered. She was petite, willowy, with soft, generous curves in all the right places.
“I haven’t seen you around town,” she commented.
Again he got the distinct impression that she’d become preoccupied with something. Ever since he’d revealed his name, the easy air between them had become tense. Curious, he thought.
“I’ve been away from home for a while,” he told her. His eyes skipped over the trees and the crystalline water. “And I never realized how much I’d been missing Misty Lake and the rez.”
The reservation was located near the town of Mountview on the southwestern edge of Vermont’s Green Mountain National Forest. He enjoyed this lush environment, and now that he thought about it, he really had no idea what had kept him away so long.
“I haven’t been back for years, in fact.”
Something about that confession disquieted him.
Tori lifted a hand and tucked a strand of her long blond hair behind her ear. She cocked her head a fraction, her gaze glittering, and he thought some mischievous forest sprite had knocked the breath clean out of his chest.
She said, “Then I’ll bet your grandfather was happy to see you.”
“You know my grandfather?” he asked.
Tori’s head bobbed. “I’ve… met him.”
Chay felt compelled to admit, “I haven’t seen him yet.”
Surprise was evident in her delicate features. “Well, why on earth not?”
“As far as I know, he doesn’t even know I’m here.”
Bewilderment clouded her pretty blue gaze. “Oh.”
He took a slow, deep inhalation, hoping to give himself time to formulate his words… time to decide how much to tell.
“To be frank, I’m, uh… well, I’m avoiding people these days,” he began, the hesitation in his voice evident even to him. “While I work out a few things.” He moistened his lips. “This is a great place to reflect and think.”
Her nod told him she understood the serenity offered by the New England mountains. But he could see his obscure response stirred her curiosity. He steeled himself for her to probe further. But she surprised him.
“It’s good to reflect and think and work things out.”
Relief swept through him. Evidently she sensed his reluctance to talk about his problems. Perceptive woman.
“I can’t stay away from Boston too long,” he told her. “I’ve got a business to run.” Spurred by the interest flickering in her expression, he continued, “I’m a contractor. I love working with my hands. I started out working as a carpenter.”
Why he was giving her the lowdown on his life’s achievements he had no idea. Tori Landing just seemed to invite him to do so.
“Building private homes, mostly. But I gradually moved into contracting bigger projects. Office buildings. Business complexes. Shopping malls. That kind of thing.”
Her eyes lit up, as though some great idea had occurred to her, and Chay felt his blood heat up and chug through his veins. His physical reaction to her had his words slowing to a crawl.
“What?” he finally asked, unable to quell his smile any longer. “Did I say something funny?”
“Oh, no.” She shook her head, and the ends of her long blond tresses undulating. “I was just thinking, is all.”
He didn’t bother voicing a request, just cocked his head a fraction and waited for her to expound. She didn’t disappoint him.
“So… you have… skills. You know how to build things. Renovate.”
She didn’t form the thoughts as questions. Folks rarely did. Like a doctor who is constantly barraged with medical issues from complete strangers, Chay was often hit up for free advice regarding the how-to of carpentry. But Tori Landing was obviously too polite to actually ask for advice without first receiving some kind of permission from him.
He smiled. “Sounds like you might be needed some advice.”
“I do!” Animation brightened her expression. “I have a carriage house on my property. I want to fix it up, make it into a bridal suite of sorts. A honeymoon cottage. It would offer the newlyweds who stay at the inn a bit more privacy. It would be so great if you’d come take a look at the building. Tell me if it’s worth renovating. Maybe give me a few suggestions.”
Chay’s first impulse was to jump at the chance—any chance—to be near the beautiful and vivacious Tori. But logic had him putting on the brakes. He’d taken a sabbatical from his work, from his life, really, in order to solve the mystery of the dreams that continued to plague him.
But he’d been back on the rez for weeks, yet he’d received no breakthrough regarding the haunting images, had received no great revelation. The isolation was getting to him. He was getting restless. Edgy.
Maybe, just maybe, he’d been concentrating too deeply on his own problems. If he had something besides himself to focus on, maybe the answer he’d been looking for would come to him. All she asked was that he take a look at her carriage house. How much trouble could that be?
The silence had drawn out, bringing on a stiffness that hadn’t been there before. She took a backward step.
“I’m sorry.” She lifted her palms in apology. “That was terribly forward of me. You obviously came here looking for privacy. The last thing you need is for someone to take advantage—”
“Now, Tori,” he gently interrupted, liking the sound of her name on his lips. “You weren’t taking advantage. You merely asked for some advice.”
After a moment of silence she asked, “You free Saturday evening? I don’t have any guests due at Freedom Trail this weekend. You could take a quick look at the carriage house, then we could have dinner. I’d love to fix you something special.” Her smile spread into a grin. “I’d like to somehow atone for, um…”
That impish light was back, dancing in her eyes, and Chay thought it was entrancing.
“Atone for my sins, so to speak.”
He knew she was referring to her watching him swim.
“Aw, now,” he said. “I don’t know that I’d call it a sin.”
She flushed to the roots of her blond hair. “My mother sure would.”
Chay chuckled, and she quickly joined him.
“So you’ll come to dinner Saturday?”
His eyes searched her beautiful face. How could he say no?
Chapter Two
Tori picked up the throw pillow from the couch and gave it a good thump. She’d fluffed the thing at least half a dozen times. Disgusted with her wrought-up state, she tossed the pillow next to the sofa’s padded arm. But she immediately reached down to arrange it in a more inviting position.
She huffed out a sigh. She’d entertained what must be hundreds of people over the years at the inn. She could coax conversation from the shyest of individuals. She could have the most serious folks laughing and enjoying themselves in a matter of mere minutes. Entertaining was her forte. Amusing her guests, diverting them from their regular, workaday lives was what kept people coming back to her B&B. It’s what had her guests urging their friends to come to stay at Freedom Trail, as well.
Feeding one man dinner shouldn’t have her all atwitter like this.
But this wasn’t any ordinary man. No way. No how. She’d realized that fr
om the first instant she’d set eyes on him.
Chay Makwa was a devastatingly attractive man. An intriguing man. Her fascination with him had been such that she’d fallen into his arms the first night they had met. That was saying something significant, indeed.
Her sideline occupation allowed her to see the ugly underbelly of marriage and relationships… the dark side of the male of the species. Now, Tori wasn’t stupid enough to think that all men were controlling and abusive, that all men had serious issues when it came to dealing with anger, but it was inevitable that her experiences had forced her to develop a thick layer of reservation where men were concerned. Yet her night prince had somehow lulled to sleep that deep sense of hesitation. She’d kissed the man before she’d even known his name.
However, there was something about Chay’s situation that seemed a little off to her. No matter how attractive she found him, she’d be foolish not to recognize that there was something not quite right about his homecoming. Why would a man return to the place of his childhood and keep himself isolated from his family? From his community?
There had to be a reason behind this lone-wolf behavior. And until she discovered what it was, she’d be an idiot to surrender to mere physical urgings.
The brass door knocker announced his arrival, and Tori nearly jumped out of her skin. Despite the niggling thoughts that plagued her only a moment before, a shiver trilled through her and she hurried to the foyer.
The first thing she was cognizant of when she opened the door was his smile. The flash of his white teeth, the curl of his lips were utterly charming. He offered her a fistful of wild-flowers, their petals an explosion of yellows and reds. Her heart melted.
“Why, thank you.” She accepted the bouquet and stepped back, inviting him to enter.
After a quick look around him, he commented, “Your home is beautiful.”
Tori’s smile warmed. “Thanks. Mom and Dad did all the decorating. The antiques they found are so perfect, I haven’t felt the need to change a thing. I update the paint every couple of years, keep on top of the general wear and tear, but other than that, the house is just as it was when I was a kid. You want to look around?”