Книга - Unforgettable

Unforgettable
Rhonda Nelson


Author Faith Bonner has a secret. She's been living vicariously through the audacious heroine of her books, Zoe Wilder. Zoe is everything Faith isn't–she's bold and brash, hot and sexy. But that's about to change. Because at a secluded mountain lodge where her publicist is hosting a Zoe Wilder theme party, Faith has a little accident…and suddenly believes she is Zoe. And no man–including sexy lodge owner Lex Ellenberg–stands a chance of resisting her….And resist her is exactly what Lex is trying to do. He'd been dreading this theme weekend…until he sets eyes on gorgeous Faith. The connection between them is instantaneous, explosive…endless. But how can he build a relationship with someone who doesn't know who she is? Still, with the way Faith/Zoe is aggressively seducing him, he knows he won't be able to hold out for long. So what else can he do but give her a night she won't be able to forget…?









“That was incredible,” Faith murmured


With Faith nestled against his chest, sated after hours of delicious lovemaking, Lex knew what he had to do. This was the moment. He lifted her head, making her look into his eyes. “I need you to remember something. It’s very important, okay?”

“Sure,” she said, obviously perplexed.

“I am in love with you.”

A smile curved her mouth. “I—”

“I’ve been in love with you since the first moment I saw you,” he continued, his voice intense. It was vitally important that she understand him. “I think you are the most remarkable woman I’ve ever met. I look at you and I—” He looked away, trying to find the right words. “I look at you and I melt. Something happens to me in here.” He thumped his chest. “I need you to know it. I need you to remember it.”

Her eyes seemed to mist over and she kissed his cheek. And then she said the words he’d been dreading. “Oh, Nash. I love you, too.”


Dear Reader,

My writing career has finally come full circle. Many, many years ago I submitted my first ever romance novel to Harlequin Temptation—it was called The Lover’s Candle and I’m eternally thankful that it never saw publication. Like me, many authors have books in their past that hold the Worst Book In The History of the World award and we happily use those manuscript pages for rough drafts and doodle paper for the kids. Unforgettable, though, is a book that I’m very proud of.

What happens when an author gets amnesia, then wakes up as the heroine in her wildly popular romantic-suspense books? Chaos of the first order. Especially when she first sets eyes on hunky lodge owner Lex Ellenberg and decides he’s her hero. Only, little does she realize that Lex is about to show her what being a real hero is all about….

I hope you will enjoy Faith and Lex’s story. I had a blast writing it. For more information on past and upcoming books, be sure to check out my Web site, www.booksbyrhondanelson.com.

Happy reading,

Rhonda Nelson




Books by Rhonda Nelson


HARLEQUIN BLAZE

75—JUST TOYING AROUND…

81—SHOW & TELL

115—PICTURE ME SEXY


Unforgettable

Rhonda Nelson






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


You may have tangible wealth untold;

Caskets of jewels and coffers of gold.

Richer than I you can never be—

I had a mother who read to me.

—Strickland Gillilan


This book is dedicated to my mother, Hope Whitley.

Thanks, Mom, for sharing your love of the written word, for telling me stories and fueling my imagination.

For being a champion, a friend and confidante.

Bun love Mom.




Contents


Chapter 1 (#u21c0a811-0d7d-5fbd-a297-af17558e0441)

Chapter 2 (#u55dbee53-c656-5027-99b2-01243ae51bfc)

Chapter 3 (#u34b5fb7a-6b10-5f91-88c6-6d14249bfa1c)

Chapter 4 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 5 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 6 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)




1


“WHOSE IDEA WAS THIS again?”

“Yours,” Trudy said drolly.

Faith Bonner bit her bottom lip, glanced at the passing scenery as they wound their way higher and higher up into the Great Smoky Mountains of Tennessee. Despite the glorious display of fall color, a tremor of trepidation shook her tummy. “Well, it was a bad one,” she said grimly.

Her assistant expelled a small breath. “No, it wasn’t—it was brilliant.” Smiling, she nudged Faith’s shoulder. “You just need to relax. That was the purpose of coming up early, remember? I’m going to finalize all the arrangements for the To Catch a Thief event—which is going to be spectacular, by the way,” Trudy said excitedly. “And you’re going to rest.”

That would be a neat trick, Faith thought, since her muscles were practically atrophied with stress. What the hell had she been thinking? Honestly, they could have hosted this publicity event in any number of fine hotels in Nashville, or any other large city, for that matter. Not in the wilds of east Tennessee, where signs like Do Not Feed Bears Under Penalty of Law were posted every several hundred feet.

While Faith appreciated nature, she nonetheless preferred her creature comforts. By all accounts, Oak Crest Lodge—their ultimate destination—had every necessary amenity, but Faith couldn’t help but be a little nervous this far removed from true civilization. While she wasn’t precisely a dyed-in-the-wool city girl, she still hadn’t had a single camping/hiking/kayaking outdoor adventure that hadn’t ended in disaster. Broken bones, snake bites, poison oak…You name it, it had most likely happened to her. She was a graceless klutz and had long ago accepted that unflattering truth about herself.

To make matters worse, she’d been attacked by a small dog as a child—a Chihuahua, for pity’s sake—but the experience had been nothing short of traumatic and had left her ridiculously terrified of most animals—particularly ones with teeth. Faith’s worried gaze scoured the tree line and she fidgeted in her seat. The idea that wild creatures with huge, glistening incisors roamed in these beautiful woods scared the living daylights out of her, made her stomach twist with an oh-hell kind of dread.

Trudy negotiated a hairpin turn. “I don’t know why you’re so worried about this, Faith,” she chided gently. “It’s not like you don’t know what you’re doing. Hell, you know the character—you’ve been writing the Zoe Wilder books for years—and you wrote the mini-mystery for this weekend. Why are you so freaked?”

Faith summoned a droll smile. “Oh, I don’t know. I guess the idea of making a complete fool of myself is a little intimidating.”

Trudy huffed an exasperated sigh. “You’re not going to make a fool of yourself. First of all, no one but you will know if you screw up. And secondly, the fans are going to be so excited about being a part of this that nothing else will matter.”

Faith had her doubts about that. She knew her readers expected her to be every bit as bold and brash, as hot and sexy as the heroine—Zoe Wilder—in her wildly popular romantic adventure books. Faith resisted the urge to snort. She and Zoe were polar opposites, couldn’t be any more different. Faith had purposely given Zoe every trait she’d like to possess but, sadly, didn’t.

Instead, she lived out her dreams vicariously through her audacious, chic, savvy gun-toting heroine. Through her books, she was beautiful, she was brave and fearless, charming, witty and sexy. She wore too-tight too-short skirts, a push-up bra and red lipstick. And, when taking care of the bad guys hadn’t been enough—when Faith had found herself miserably lonely—she’d given Zoe Nash—a badass to end all badasses, a to-die-for heartthrob whose melting smile was so hot it could make an orchid bloom in an arctic frost.

She’d also made him the best lover in the northern hemisphere and she couldn’t write a love scene between the two during which she didn’t have an overwhelming orgasm. She repressed a delicate shiver.

In fact, though she’d never risk the psych ward by admitting this to anyone, Faith feared that the fictitious Nash Austin—a total figment of her imagination—had ruined her for any living male. Now how pathetic was that? She’d fallen in love with a character, a person who existed only on paper and in her mind.

Furthermore, she’d made him so damn good that no real guy could ever compare. Or at least if one did, Faith had yet to find him. If someday hell froze over and he did happen along her path, Faith knew he wouldn’t be the type to be interested in her.

Men like that—or any man, for that matter—rarely gave her a second glance.

Regrettably, she seemed to blend in, like a part of the scenery.

Most of the time, Faith preferred being unremarkable. She liked order—her childhood had provided enough chaos, thank you very much—and moved through her daily routine without any glitches. She got up every morning, ran a couple of miles, came home, showered, ate breakfast, then sat down at her computer and worked on her work-in-progress until her belly rumbled. She’d eat lunch, then work until another hunger pain struck, heralding the end of that day in front of the computer.

Occasionally the routine would vary—she’d go wild and use her laptop—but for the most part, one day looked the same as another. She liked it that way. She really did. There was a strange sort of comfort in the monotony.

Until a new book came out—then things went to hell in a handbasket.

Faith had a new release every September, spent that entire month as well as the two following on tour to promote the book. She enjoyed meeting her readers, hearing their thoughts about her books, and she liked seeing new cities—but she hated the interviews and she hated when perceptive readers realized that her whole I’m-just-like-Zoe act was just that—an act. She swallowed, felt a smile tug at her lips as she watched a couple of squirrels argue over an acorn. No amount of success, no amount of money made up for those momentary feelings of inadequacy.

This year, she’d decided to offer something a little different—a To Catch a Thief contest—in which ten lucky fans got to spend the weekend with her and solve a mystery. Faith had run the idea past the powers that be at her publishing house, and they’d loved it. Once she’d gotten the official go-ahead, she and Trudy had designed a whodunit mystery and assigned each winner a specific character. Dossiers with instructions and a list of suspects had been sent to each guest. They would all arrive in character, ready to play.

Faith would play the part of Zoe, of course. One of the perks of being the author, she thought. Trudy was right on one score—Faith knew Zoe Wilder better than she knew herself, and to be brutally honest, she’d been equally thrilled and intimidated by the idea. A rogue wave of excitement bubbled through her, then was washed away by a monsoon of dread.

She was literally going to step into the spiked heels of her kick-ass heroine.

And if she could get over the fear of making a complete and total fool of herself, she’d think it was cool.

“Okay,” Trudy said, and from the brisk tone of her voice, she was gearing up for another verbal checklist. “Let’s run over things once more, just to make sure that we’re covered.”

Faith suppressed a small smile. “Okay.”

“Do you have a copy of the character dossiers?”

“Check.”

“The winners list and accompanying information?”

“Check.”

“A master copy of the mystery?”

Faith nodded. “Check.”

“Your ‘Zoe’ wardrobe?”

“Check,” Faith told her.

In fact, she’d shocked the crap out of her personal shopper at the local mall. Faith’s tastes tended to lean toward soft neutrals and earth tones—her closet was a sad sea of beiges, browns and rusts. Adding Zoe’s bright, slinky wardrobe had been like adding a tie-dyed T-shirt to a rack of tan turtlenecks. She’d undoubtedly look ridiculous, Faith thought—she’d gotten a wee bit carried away with sequins—but then who wouldn’t? All the characters had been exaggerated, so she wouldn’t be the only one who looked as if she’d just stepped out of a mental hospital.

She’d even gone by a local spy shop and picked up a few handy little gadgets, as well as a convincing-looking piece, though the only way she could defend herself with that gun would be to conk someone over the head with it.

“And John will be here Friday?”

“Right, and he’s outfitted as well for his part.”

Trudy chuckled. “I can’t wait to see that.”

“Me either,” Faith replied with a reluctant smile. Her editor, John Wallace, would play the part of Nash. Faith’s lips quirked. He resembled her hunky Nash about as much as she resembled Zoe, so they were even on that score. Faith heaved a small sigh.

Bears, bobcats and big scary teeth aside, she didn’t doubt for a moment that the whole experience would be exciting. Though she was anxious, she still looked forward to stepping into her alter ego’s shoes, at least for a little while. Of course, she would look forward to it more if she could shake this curious sense of foreboding. For reasons that escaped her, she felt…weird. Braced. Just waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Which was ridiculous, when she had Type-A Trudy along. Faith cast her good friend and assistant a covert sidelong glance.

Trudy—while she had to be one of the most melodramatic people Faith had ever known—was profoundly efficient. Trudy wouldn’t stand for any sort of chaos, any flaw, any wrinkle. She was a short, spunky dynamo in pumps, and could bark orders better than a drill sergeant when the need arose.

She was worrying needlessly, Faith decided, forcing the tension from her limbs. Everything would be fine.

“Well, I think that covers everything,” Trudy finally said, having deemed them suitably prepared. “This is going to be fantastic. You’ll be fantastic.” Her lips curled in a knowing little grin. “You’re more like Zoe than you think, you know.”

Faith grunted, directed her gaze out the window. Not hardly, but she wasn’t going to waste her breath arguing the point.

After what felt like several more miles up the winding mountain, past beautiful vistas and rocky meandering streams, Trudy pulled the SUV through a stacked-stone-and-cedar arch that bore the name Oak Crest Lodge. “Ah, we’re here,” she said needlessly.

The large A-frame stacked-stone-and-cedar building blended in so seamlessly with the surroundings it gave the impression of sprouting from the ground, much as the trees did. Colorful leaves dotted the roof, lined the gutters and spilled over the long, weather-beaten front porch. Mossy patches and mushrooms grew along the foundation, crept up through the fissures in the broken rock.

Potted ferns and mums in varying fall shades were planted in old washtubs, barrels and watering cans, and sat in no particular order on the porch. Grapevine wreaths graced the huge, rounded, rough-cut cedar doors.

Faith undid her seat belt as the SUV rolled to a stop, and quietly considered the place. A funny feeling, not easily read, tingled in her chest, making her shift in her seat. Beside her, Trudy rambled excitedly.

Though she’d never been here before in her life and this lodge didn’t remotely resemble her modern, two-story brick home back in trendy Brentwood, Faith had the strangest feeling of homecoming, for lack of a better description. That same feeling one got when seeing an old, treasured, but seldom-seen friend.

Which was equally impossible and insane.

Though she’d led a nomadic life during her childhood—her late parents had thought moving was a grand adventure and never stayed in one place long enough to put down roots—Faith knew they’d never traveled to this part of the state, much less stayed at this particular lodge. Honestly, Faith thought. What was wrong with her today?

Feeling ridiculous and out of sorts, she shook the feeling off, got out of the car and stretched. Her muscles had bunched in the small of her back, and her legs felt like lead.

“God, isn’t this the most beautiful place you’ve ever seen?” Trudy enthused, her voice high-pitched with wonder. “The pictures simply didn’t do it justice.” She threw her head back and drew in a deep breath. “Oh, the air is so crisp and clean. This is simply fantastic.”

Faith had to agree. It was spectacular. The overall mood of the place seemed cozy and warm. A little careworn here and there, needing a little TLC, Faith decided, eyeing the full gutters. Still, she was instantly enchanted. The place just inspired—

A flash of something big and black caught her eye, making her pause, midstretch. That cloak of foreboding she hadn’t been able to shake tightened imperceptibly around her throat, and a skitter of alarm whispered over her nape, making her scalp prickle.

Faith slowly turned and in the nanosecond it took for her brain to assimilate just exactly what she was looking at—what horrifying monstrosity was barreling toward her at breakneck, slobber-spewing speed—her muscles froze with terror, locking her in place. She could barely draw a breath, much less move.

So she screamed.

Then fainted.




2


LEX ELLENBURG’S HEAD jerked up as an earsplitting scream suddenly rent the air. Oh, hell. Not Pooh again, Lex thought as a ball of dread ricocheted around his abdomen. Not Pooh, dammit. He didn’t have time to deal with another lecture from the park rangers—he had too many other pressing problems to deal with.

Like keeping his fledgling lodge afloat.

He buried the ax into a log and raced to the front of the building. The young bear had been coming around a lot more lately and, while most of his guests were regulars and knew of Pooh’s penchant for wandering about the lodge grounds, there was always a newbie who would see him and squeal like a wounded hog.

Then report him.

While Lex believed Pooh too tame to be a real threat to anyone, he was still a wild animal and animals could always be unpredictable. Lex snorted. Like women.

He rounded the corner and breathed a palpable sigh of relief. Not Pooh, thank God. Only Beano. Granted, the giant black lab had pinned a small woman to the ground, but she clearly wasn’t in any danger of being mauled to death. Lex’s lips twisted. The worst Beano could do was drown her in doggy drool. Still, his dog knocking guests to the ground couldn’t be good for business.

“Beano!” Lex bellowed sharply. “Off!”

“Off!” cried another woman, this one desperately trying to haul the giant dog off her friend. She might as well be trying to move a mountain with a spoon, for all the good it was doing. “Get off her, you great ox!” When she spied Lex, her face wilted with relief. “Thank God. Call him off. Get him off her!”

Tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth, Beano turned his soulful dark brown eyes toward Lex and seemed to say, “Look what I found. A new toy.”

It was at that precise moment that Lex realized the woman on the ground seemed unnaturally still. She made no effort to shove the dog from her chest, and she wasn’t screaming. Not a good sign. He mentally swore and a whole new kind of tension tightened his spine.

Pulse hammering in his ears, Lex rushed to her side, dropped to his knees, shoved the dog off her chest—“Off, dammit!”—and checked for any visible injuries. The worried friend crouched beside him, took the woman’s hand and gently shook it. “Faith? Faith? Oh, Faith!” she cried.

No blood, thank God, Lex thought, though he was still far from relieved. He ran his hands over her limbs, checking for any broken bones, then picked up her small wrist and checked her pulse. The strong beat throbbing beneath his fingertips marginally alleviated some of the dread.

He looked up. “Did she hit her head when the dog knocked her down?”

“Faith? Oh, come on, Faith,” the friend pleaded desperately, gently nudging the unconscious woman. Worry wrinkled her brow. “I don’t know,” she said, clearly agitated. “I was on the other side of the car. But the dog didn’t knock her down. She fainted before he got to her.”

Startled, Lex frowned. “Fainted?”

“She was attacked by a dog when she was a child,” she said defensively, casting him an annoyed glare. She gestured irritably at Beano. “I’m sure he’s probably harmless, but he charged her like a bull, for heaven’s sake. That animal will have to be put up while we’re here.” She scowled and didn’t appear to like the idea, but seemed resolved nonetheless.

Though he couldn’t possibly understand what had been said, Beano whimpered, trotted over and buried his wet nose in Lex’s neck.

“Go on,” Lex told him, giving him an affectionate push. “I’ll deal with you later,” he said, exasperated. Damn dog. He didn’t need this, and he didn’t want to put up his dog, but under the circumstances, he didn’t see where he would be left with much choice.

“Let’s get her inside.” He carefully lifted her in his arms and, despite the tension gathered in every muscle, couldn’t help but notice that her slight frame had all the right curves, in all the right places. She felt…nice against him, soft and womanly. Her scent, something light and floral—daisies maybe?—drifted up and teased his nostrils. She had a smooth heart-shaped face, a lightly freckled button nose and a dainty chin, which would have made her simply cute…but when one factored in that full, ripe mouth, she became downright beautiful. Soft-as-silk fawn-colored curls bobbed over his arm with every step he took, and to Lex’s unending astonishment, his blood simmered, igniting a pilot light in his groin.

He swallowed a bark of self-deprecating laughter. Which just went to show just how desperately he needed to get laid.

Hell, he hadn’t had the time, much less the energy. Keeping the lodge in the black, practicing creative finance—which he’d become so adept at in recent months he should qualify for a damned Ph.D.—and constantly maintaining the building hadn’t left him with so much as a morning to sleep in, much less time to find a woman willing to indulge in a little recreational sex.

His gaze dropped to the woman in his arms and a muscle ticked in his tense jaw. Clearly, if he had sunk to lusting over unconscious females, it was time to remedy that problem.

But there was something altogether intriguing about this particular woman, Lex thought, as his gaze inexplicably lingered on her gorgeous face far longer than it should have under the circumstances—she was unconscious, after all. It didn’t stop his chest from unexpectedly tightening, nor did it account for his suddenly galloping heart. He blinked, unsettled, and forced himself to look away, to focus on getting her inside the building.

The friend hurried forward and opened the door to the lodge. Lex muttered his thanks, crossed the threshold and made his way over to one of the big leather sofas positioned in front of the fireplace. He gingerly deposited his bundle on the couch and, to his vast relief, she finally stirred. She’d been as limp as a rag doll while he’d brought her in.

The mystery woman’s lids fluttered, then opened, revealing a pair of huge, heavily lashed, light brown eyes. They were the color of melted caramel, Lex thought, swallowing past a curious knot in his throat. That bizarre tourniquet around his chest tightened, pushing the butterflies in his belly farther behind his navel. He went momentarily deaf while staring into those utterly captivating eyes—couldn’t hear a single sound—and the sensation left him feeling more than a little disturbed.

Her brow wrinkled and a wondering, gorgeous smile bloomed across her oh-so-sexy lips. He felt that smile clear to his toes, most particularly behind his zipper. “Nash?” she breathed reverently.

The friend eagerly bumped him aside. “Faith! Oh, thank God! Are you all right? Are you hurt?”

Nash? Lex wondered, bewildered. Who the hell was Nash?

Confusion filled Faith’s eyes, lined her forehead. She gazed back and forth between them, then inhaled sharply, closed her eyes and groaned. “I—What—Oh, God.”

“The dog charged you,” the friend explained, “but Mr.—” She shot him a questioning glance.

“Ellenburg,” Lex supplied, still bewildered by his intense reaction to her.

“Mr. Ellenburg has assured me that the animal will be put up for the duration of our stay.”

The look she gave him dared him to argue and, though he knew it was unreasonable, he would like nothing better than to argue. Lex didn’t want to put up his dog, dammit—he’d be miserable. Furthermore, Beano was harmless and it seemed wholly unfair to punish him for the sins of another animal.

Still, he couldn’t afford to lose their business—any business, for that matter, and he assumed that they were part of the Zoe Wilder festivities this weekend—and he certainly couldn’t afford to displease that group. He frowned at the grim reminder. The ramifications were simply too horrible to contemplate. Lex finally jerked his head in an affirmative nod. The woman clearly had been terrified. Hell, she’d fainted, hadn’t she? Knowing that, he could hardly allow the dog to run free.

“I’m truly sorry,” Lex told her. “It won’t happen again.”

She swung her legs off the couch, sat up and gingerly massaged her temples. A leaf fell out of her hair and bits of dirt and debris clung to her beige sweater and matching pants. A pair of identical paw prints stamped her chest.

“Don’t worry about it,” she said wearily in a soft throaty voice that brought to mind rumpled sheets and naked limbs. Unbelievably, white-hot lust licked at Lex’s veins, stirred in his loins. An adorable blush staining her cheeks, she swiped at some of the damage. “No, uh, lasting harm done.”

Lex slowly released a pent-up breath. Thankfully, she seemed more embarrassed than pissed off, and that worked to his advantage. “How about we get you checked in? See if we at Oak Crest can redeem ourselves.”

Seemingly relieved that all was right with…Faith, if he remembered correctly, the friend stuck out her hand. “An excellent idea. I’m Trudy Weaver, Mr. Ellenburg. We’ve spoken many times.”

The tentative smile that had curled his lips froze as she pumped his outstretched hand. A litany of inventive, rapid-fire curses streamed through his stalled brain. His gaze darted back and forth between the two women and he experienced a moment of uncomfortable panic. If this was Trudy Weaver, Lex thought, then that—the woman she’d called Faith—must be Faith Bonner, the famous author he was counting on to help his lodge squeak through another season.

What with all the corporately owned chains popping up on his side of the mountain, Lex’s mom-and-pop business had taken a beating. He didn’t know how much longer he could hold on, but the idea of selling out—or giving up—simply wasn’t an option. He’d already refused two very generous offers, both of which had come from an anonymous party. Regardless, Lex hadn’t even been tempted. His grandfather had built this lodge. Had logged the lumber himself.

In addition, his dad had practically killed himself—he’d died of a heart attack year before last, while patching a spot on the roof—trying to maintain it. Too much Ellenburg sweat, blood and tears had gone into this place to let it go belly-up now. So long as there was breath left in his body Lex wouldn’t sell. He had to make things work. Still…

Of all the guests Beano might have bowled over, it had to be her.

Oh, hell.

“Er, it’s nice to finally meet you,” Lex eventually managed to say. What a damn nightmare. He sucked in a slow breath and waited expectantly for an introduction to confirm his grim suspicions.

Smiling, she gestured to Faith. “This is Faith Bonner. Faith is going to take a couple of days to relax while you and I work out the final details of the To Catch a Thief event.”

Lex nodded, glanced at the woman in question and offered a tongue-in-cheek smile. “Well, despite recent evidence to the contrary, Oak Crest is a great place to relax. There’s something for everyone here.”

Faith wore a bemused expression, continued to stare at him until the silence stretched beyond the comfortable and Lex began to wonder if maybe he had something stuck in his teeth. Those melted-caramel orbs lingered until he had to forcibly quell the urge to squirm, which he was strongly tempted to do anyway because every hair on his body stood on end when she looked at him. It was truly bizarre, this reaction he had to her. It was almost as if he knew her. As if some part of him recognized her. But that wasn’t possible.

“Er…” Trudy’s slightly distressed gaze bounced between them, then, thankfully, she moved to fill the odd silence. “I’m sure she’ll love it here.” She bustled Faith toward the reception desk. “What say we get checked in, shall we?”

Seemingly blinking out of a trance, Faith cast him a sheepish glance and her pale complexion brightened with pink color. “R-right.”

Praying that no other disasters would befall them before he got them checked in and safely escorted to their rooms, Lex made quick work of the process. In short order, though Faith had continued to stare at him through the corner of her eye and not-so-covertly study him during the entire curiously stressful process, Lex finally booked the two women into a couple of his nicest rooms.

Then he went to the kitchen with the intention of downing a beer—he’d undoubtedly earned it after that bizarre episode—but swiftly substituted a soda for the alcohol after a stern look from his uncle.

George’s lined face folded into a frown. “What’s the problem?”

The problem? Lex thought with a silent laugh. Would that there were only one. Regrettably, he’d just added one more to a list of many, and this one was startlingly disturbing—he’d fallen instantly in lust with Faith Bonner. There could be no other explanation for his persistent hard-on, or his acute fascination with her mouth, or the overwhelming case of gooseflesh still pebbling his skin.

Nevertheless, he couldn’t imagine sharing that little tidbit with his uncle, so instead he related the Beano incident. “I’ve put him out back,” Lex told him, finishing the tale. “But I know he’s going to hate it.”

George rubbed his bristled chin. “Yeah, well, not as bad as you’ll hate it if that fancy author and her weird fans take their business elsewhere.” He nodded curtly. “Beano’ll be all right. It’s just for a few days.”

Lex inclined his head. Leave it to George to sum it up so succinctly. His uncle had strong opinions and didn’t mind sharing them whether asked or not. Lex grinned. It was part of George’s charm. He was a little rough around the edges, but Oak Crest wouldn’t be the same without him. Couldn’t function without him, truth be told.

The minute his mother had retired to Florida—it had been too painful for her to remain at the lodge after his father died—George had set up shop in the kitchen and, in Lex’s opinion, there wasn’t a finer cook on this side of the mountain. He didn’t know what he’d do without him and, thankfully, wouldn’t ever have to find out. George was as much a part of the lodge now as the timbers that held it together.

Which was all the more reason why Lex had to keep it afloat. Too many people depended on him, George included. Lex shot a dark look at his crotch—at the hard-on that wouldn’t end. Rather than worrying about gorgeous Faith Bonner with her porn-star lips, he should probably try to concentrate on keeping a roof over their heads, he thought, disgusted.

SWEET HEAVEN, Faith thought, instantly calling Lex Ellenburg’s image to the forefront of her mind, he looked just like Nash.

Just. Like. Nash.

Her heart tripped an unsteady beat in her chest, and forcing air into her shallow lungs was proving to be damn near impossible. Her stomach somersaulted, did a few other gymnastic moves guaranteed to make her insides alternately soar and plummet. Her hands shook and her mouth grew parched.

He had the same coal-black hair and ice-blue eyes, the dimple in one lean cheek and that sexy cleft in his chin. Even the thin jagged scar that slashed across his temple. He was impossibly tall and broad shouldered, built like a Greek god, which seemed appropriate because she was more than willing to physically worship him…and certainly wouldn’t mind offering herself up as a sacrifice, either.

The man had every single physical trait she’d given Nash Austin more than four years ago. It absolutely astounded her. Blew her mind.

When she’d first opened her eyes and he’d been leaning over her…Faith gave a delicate shiver. Her foolish heart had leaped with joy and every single cell in her body had sung in recognition of him. Need had broadsided her, overwhelming and insistent, achy and hot.

And then reality had intruded in the form of her nearly weeping, overly dramatic assistant, and Faith’s memory had returned full force. The dream had receded, making her feel like a complete and total moron.

Honestly, it hadn’t been bad enough that she’d had to faint, make a fool of herself. No, she’d had to do it up nicely, blink drunkenly at him and whisper “Nash” like a lovesick fool. Where was a good crater when you needed one? Faith wondered, her face flushing with renewed embarrassment.

She’d taken one look at that big black dog—totally harmless, according to both Lex and Trudy—and she’d screamed and fainted like a ravished virgin in a bad B movie. One bad experience with a dog and she’d been scarred for life. Faith hated the weakness, hated the character flaw. Dogs were supposed to be man’s best friend. Just because she’d had an unfortunate run-in with a bipolar Chihuahua twenty years ago shouldn’t make her so damn phobic about them now.

“So what do you think of the place?” Trudy asked. “Nice, huh?”

Faith nodded, made a concerted effort to focus on her friend. Trudy had gone to a lot of trouble to make this a memorable weekend for her and her fans. The least she could do was show a little enthusiasm. “It’s lovely.”

Trudy had been admiring the view from the window, but turned to face her. A concerned line creased her brow and a cloud of worry darkened her hazel eyes. “Are you sure you’re okay? You took quite a fall.”

“Positive.” Faith shot her a sheepish look. “I can’t believe I fainted.” She rolled her eyes, rubbed an imaginary wrinkle from between her own brows. “God, how embarrassing.” She exhaled mightily, dropped onto the foot of the bed and fell back.

Trudy’s eyes twinkled. She crossed her arms over her chest and rocked back lightly on her heels. “It was positively dramatic.”

Faith humphed under her breath. “Great.”

“Particularly the way Mr. Ellenburg raced around the building, then scooped you up in his powerful arms and brought you inside. He’d been quite worried, you know.”

Faith snorted indelicately. “I imagine the word lawsuit was flashing through his head.”

Trudy toed her shoes off and sank into one of the big cushy chairs positioned in front of the window. She hummed thoughtfully under her breath. “That was not the impression I got.”

Her silly heart did a cartwheel. “Oh?”

“There was definitely something else at work there,” Trudy said consideringly. “His eyes seemed magnetized to your body…as were his hands. He did a thorough search.”

Heat flared in her belly and her head whipped around to where Trudy sat. “What?”

“Not to worry,” Trudy chuckled. “He didn’t molest you…but I wouldn’t mind him checking me over for broken bones.” She gave a misty sigh. “It was very romantic.”

So he’d felt her up and she didn’t even have the pleasure of remembering it? Faith thought, unreasonably disappointed. Well, wasn’t that just par for the course? A great-looking guy had his hands all over her, swept her into his arms and carried her to safety—a truly heroic moment, probably the only one she’d ever have in her life—and she had absolutely no recall of it whatsoever.

Damn.

Trudy slid her a sly glance. “He wasn’t the only one who seemed intrigued. You, for instance, couldn’t keep your eyes off him.”

Faith knew she should offer some token protest, but couldn’t muster the effort. What was the point? Her gaze had been glued to him like flypaper, as the rest of her would have been if she’d let herself. She’d been utterly fascinated by him. Hadn’t been able to help herself. She shot her friend a slightly embarrassed look. “I know,” she admitted. “But doesn’t he remind you of someone?”

Surely she wasn’t the only one who saw it, Faith thought. The resemblance was so strong that anyone who was familiar with her work should be able to spot it. Trudy most definitely should.

Her friend seemed to consider the question for a moment, then to Faith’s astonishment, she shook her head. “No, I can’t say that he does.”

“Think, Trudy,” Faith pressed, rolling over onto her side. “Black hair, blue eyes, scar at the temple. Sound familiar?”

Trudy gave her a blank look. “Should it?”

Annoyed, she sat up. Good grief. Trudy critiqued for her, proofread. How could she not know? “Yes,” Faith said, thoroughly exasperated.

Trudy offered a small shrug. “Sorry, honey. I’m lost.”

If she wasn’t reading her books any closer than that, she might be fired, Faith thought ominously. “Trudy,” she said with exaggerated patience. “He looks like Nash.”

Trudy’s perplexed expression was not comforting. “Nash?”

“Yes, Nash.”

She gave her head a small shake. “No, he doesn’t.”

“Yes, he does,” Faith insisted. “Black hair, blue eyes, and the scar. He’s tall, dark and handsome. He’s Nash,” she insisted.

“Well, he’s not how I pictured Nash,” Trudy said skeptically. “Not how I pictured him at all.”

Faith blinked. “He’s not?”

“No.” She chuckled under her breath, cocked her head and assessed her with an annoyingly shrewd gleam that made Faith want to alternately scream and squirm. “But it’s funny that you think he does, isn’t it?”

Funny? Faith thought. No, it was many things…but funny wasn’t one of them. Disconcerting, unsettling, angst-inspiring, a wee bit thrilling and possibly disastrous. But funny?

Nuh-uh.




3


“IS THERE ANYTHING ELSE?” Lex asked. He couldn’t imagine that being possible—Trudy Weaver had thought of absolutely everything and he couldn’t imagine that a single detail had escaped the woman’s attention—but he felt obliged to ask the question, anyway.

She smiled, efficiently powered off her PDA and slipped it into her bag. “No, I think that’s got it. We’re really looking forward to this weekend. To my knowledge, none of the popular romantic adventure fiction writers have ever planned a weekend quite like this one. We really want it to be a success. If it is, this could turn into a yearly thing for us.”

That would be nice, Lex thought, particularly if they continued to use his lodge. This had simply been a bad year. Several high-dollar repairs had been necessary. His central heat and A/C unit—a relatively new one, at that—had unexpectedly gone out, his computer system had fritzed, and for reasons he and his exterminator had never been able to discern, he’d been suddenly overrun with cockroaches back in the spring. Huge ones, some not even native to this area, and it had cost a small fortune in fees to get rid of the nasty creatures.

But things were looking up, Lex decided. His flat-lined spirits experienced a promising arc. “I’m sure everything will run smoothly. You can rest assured that my staff and I will do our part to see that it does.”

Smiling, she stood. “I’m counting on it.”

Lex moved to his feet as well and felt compelled to clear the air one more time about the Beano incident. He shoved a hand through his hair. “I wanted to apologize again about the dog. I’ve put him up. Is, er…Mrs. Bonner all right?” he asked, unintentionally putting a subtle emphasis on the Mrs. part.

Now what in the hell had made him fish for that tidbit? Lex wondered, thoroughly annoyed. He presently had too many things to concern himself with to be wondering whether or not a certain gorgeous author was married or not. More things to worry about than that sexy mouth, or those soft fawn curls, or those warm brown eyes. Another snake of heat coiled in his belly at the thought, forcing him to expel a slow breath.

Trudy paused, gave him a lingering, enigmatic look that made the tops of his ears burn. Her lips slid into a small smile. “It’s Ms. Bonner, and yes, she’s fine.”

Feeling ridiculous, he nodded awkwardly. “Good.”

She gave him another curiously probing look, traced his features with her gaze, then mumbled under her breath, “Nope, I just don’t see it.”

Lex blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“Nothing,” she said smoothly. “Do you read the Zoe Wilder novels, Mr. Ellenburg?”

“I haven’t yet,” Lex admitted, embarrassed. It had been on his to-do list, but for various reasons, that particular item kept getting shuffled to the bottom of the page. There was always something that needed to be done—some task left unfinished—and reading was simply a luxury he hadn’t had time for of late.

“Oh, you should,” she admonished, clearly scandalized. “Faith is phenomenally talented. Her characters—Zoe Wilder and Nash Austin—are larger than life, very vivid.” She heaved a small sigh. “No one writes action adventure quite like her. She’s the best. And this newest book…it’s the best one yet.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Oh, really?”

“Yes.” She shifted a bit closer, as though sharing an important secret. “The cliff-hanger at the end of book three—Death By Design—is revealed on the very first page of the prologue and it just gets better and better from there. It’s my new favorite.” She chuckled, rocked back on her heels. “Actually, every new book is my new favorite,” she confided.

Lex laughed as well. She was clearly very passionate about her boss’s work. “I’ll be sure and check them out. I just haven’t had the time.”

“Oh, make the time,” Trudy insisted. “You won’t regret it.”

Lex scratched his temple. “So are you playing a part this weekend, or are you just supervising behind the scenes?” Though it didn’t sound like anything he would particularly enjoy, Lex couldn’t help but be a little curious about the idea.

She sighed wistfully. “I’m supervising behind the scenes. Faith wanted to me to play the part of Zoe.” She lowered her voice. “She’s very anxious about it, but the fans expect her to do it, and she mustn’t let them down. After all, that’s the whole purpose of this weekend. She wrote it, the mystery, that is, so she should be all right.”

Now that was interesting, Lex thought, intrigued. He arched a brow. “Why doesn’t she want to do it?”

Trudy winced regretfully. “She doesn’t feel comfortable. You’d have to read the books to fully understand. Faith is worried that she won’t be able to pull off playing Zoe. Zoe is one tough cookie,” she conceded with a thoughtful nod. “She’s a kick-butt heroine. Brash, brave and sexy, wears slinky clothes and red lipstick. Nothing like Faith. Faith’s on the shy side, likes things calm and orderly. Sedate.” Trudy chuckled. “Zoe is far from sedate. Still,” she sighed, “I think that Faith is a whole lot more like Zoe than she realizes, and playing the part this weekend, I hope, will go a long way toward showing her that.”

Another intriguing item, Lex thought, as though he needed to know another. Hell, he’d been instantly enchanted with her. Probably the less he knew about her, the better, but to his immense consternation and stupidity, that didn’t keep him from fishing for more. “And this Nash Austin character,” Lex said. “He’s her hero?”

Trudy bobbed her head in assent. “Right. Her editor, John Wallace, is going to play his part. Faith said she couldn’t do it with a stranger, that it would simply be too difficult, too embarrassing.” Trudy’s eyes twinkled again and she regarded him closely. “The characters have a very steamy relationship.” She bounced on the balls of her feet. “They positively burn up the pages.”

A sickening sensation swelled in his stomach, preventing him from making a comment. He grunted noncommittally and forced his lips into what he hoped resembled a smile. Time to cut bait, Lex decided abruptly. “Well, if everything is settled,” he told her, “I have a few things I need to attend to.”

Like splitting wood for tonight’s fire. Regrettably, there was no wood fairy who would take care of the job for him, and he couldn’t afford to buy it by the cord, a luxury his competitors enjoyed. Like most everything else around here, he had to take care of it himself. He kept a minimal, yet well-trained staff, and had promised Christmas bonuses to them for taking on additional duties not found in their typical job descriptions. Thanks to Faith Bonner and her group, Lex would have enough money to make good on that promise as well as take care of a few pressing renovations—ones that were shuffled to the end of the list while he’d been fixing everything else that had gone kaput this season.

“Oh, certainly,” she told him. “I think we’ve covered everything.”

“Good. I’ll see you in the dining room this evening, then?”

“We’ll be there.” With that, Trudy took her leave.

Lex waited until she was out of earshot before he expelled a relieved breath. He didn’t have a problem discussing menu changes, or various decorations, or helping add little clues for the upcoming event.

He did, however, have a problem thinking about Faith Bonner and her editor recreating scenes from her books in which they “burned up the pages.” For reasons he didn’t care to explore, the idea made him feel as if he’d eaten bad shrimp. Made him want to put his fist through a wall. Made him want to haul her to his bedroom and burn up the sheets, an act he’d make certain she’d find more agreeable than any flesh session she might dream up for her books.

Which was completely out of the question.

Time to eliminate thought with action, Lex decided abruptly. He stopped by the front desk and told George where to find him if something came up, then headed toward the back.

The moment he stepped out into the porch, Beano lumbered to his feet and issued a short impatient howl, which meant one thing—please let me out of here. He’d gotten too big for that pen, Lex thought absently, regretting again having to put him up. He winced. “Sorry, buddy. Maybe later.”

His skin suddenly prickled and he knew before he heard the creak of the rocker she was there. His step momentarily faltered. “Hi,” he managed to murmur. “Enjoying the view?”

She toed the rocker to a stop. “Yes, I am. It’s gorgeous. So much color,” she said with a sigh. “It’s truly beautiful.”

That weird connection he’d noted before made his scalp tingle, and simply looking at her caused a curious knot of anticipation to form in his belly. Lex told his feet to keep moving, to descend the steps and move toward the woodpile, so it was quite disconcerting when they led him across the porch, where he leaned against the railing right in front of her.

“Every year I think that we’ll never have a prettier fall, and then the leaves start to change and inevitably prove me wrong.” He sighed as his gaze drifted proudly over the rugged terrain of his mountain. “I think it’s the landscape on this side of the mountain that makes the difference. All those valleys and ravines.”

She nodded thoughtfully, gestured toward the black Lab and winced. Tension vibrated off her slim frame and it occurred to him that she probably wouldn’t have ventured outside to enjoy the view if Beano hadn’t been penned. “I’m really sorry about your dog,” she said. “He’s miserable, isn’t he?”

“Ah, he’ll be all right,” Lex told her, watching the breeze flirt with her long curls. His gaze drifted to her lips and unwanted awareness sizzled along his nerve endings. “I’ll let him come in with me tonight and all will be forgiven.” He’d have to, otherwise other animals might mistake his dog for bait. He was a sitting duck in that pen. “I’m just sorry that he frightened you. Trudy mentioned you’d been attacked by a dog before.”

“When I was little,” she confirmed with a nod. “Still, it was no reason to faint.” She shot him an embarrassed look. “Thanks for, uh, taking care of me, bringing me in and all that.”

“No thanks necessary. I just wish he hadn’t frightened you.” Lex blew out a breath. “He’s big, but he’s harmless. He doesn’t realize his own strength.”

She gazed dubiously at Beano down in the pen and looked as though she’d like nothing better than to believe him. Still, he could read the fear in every line of her body, from the faintly worried line between her brows to the rigid way she sat in the chair.

Lex grimaced. “What kind of dog attacked you?” Probably a chow. Those animals had a reputation for attacking, particularly children. They were intimidated by humans who were larger than them, which put smaller adults and children at risk.

She rolled her eyes and a smile teased her lips. “I’m too embarrassed to say.”

Hmm. Not a chow then, or any of the larger breeds, obviously, or she wouldn’t be embarrassed. His lips twisted into a grin. “Was it a poodle?”

That melted-caramel gaze cut in his direction. “Worse.”

Worse? What could be worse than a poodle? What could be more ignoble than being attacked by a poodle? “Oh?”

She heaved a resigned sigh. “It was a Chihuahua.”

A shocked chuckle burst from his lips before he managed to swallow the rest of it. It took a tremendous amount of effort to flatten his lips. “A Chihuahua?”

She cast him a droll look. “Yes, a mentally unstable Chihuahua. He was in the throes of an identity crisis at the time.”

Lex crossed his arms over his chest, the woodpile and all the other pressing things on his to-do list forgotten. “An identity crisis, eh? How so?”

“He thought he was a rottweiler.”

She delivered the line deadpan and this time he didn’t even attempt not to laugh, but let the sound rumble up from deep in his chest.

“Go ahead and laugh,” she teased indignantly, chuckling herself now. She pushed her sweater sleeves up and showed him her forearms. Tiny bite scars slashed over her skin. “It was very traumatic to a little kid. He wasn’t all that small to a six-year-old, and teeth are teeth. That damn dog scared the hell out of me.”

Lex’s laughter tittered to a halt. She was right, of course. It would have been very frightening to a child. Still, when one thought about being attacked by a vicious dog, a Chihuahua was hardly the first breed that leaped to mind.

“I’m sorry,” he told her, making a concerted effort to wipe the lingering smile from his lips. “I shouldn’t have laughed.”

“Oh, hell,” she sighed. She pulled her sleeves back down. “It’s all right. It is funny. I know it is. I just wish that I could get past this fear of dogs. No matter how I try to reason it away, laugh it away, the fear is still there. It’s more annoying than anything else and I hate the weakness.”

Lex inclined his head. “You have every reason to be afraid. Regardless of how big or little the dog might have been, it still attacked you. There is nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I’m more embarrassed than ashamed.” She gestured toward the dog. A note of irritation entered her voice. “And now your poor dog, poor—” She scowled adorably. “What’s your dog’s name?”

“Beano.”

“Poor Be—” She paused at the beginning of what sounded like a grand soliloquy of self-disgust and comically quirked a brow. “Beano?”

He flattened his lips. “Yes, Beano.”

“Er…why did you name your dog after an antigas product?”

Lex smiled. “Spend a little time around him, and believe me, you’ll understand the significance.”

A slow grin worked its way across those unbelievably sexy lips, and her light brown eyes sparkled with humor. “Do I really want to?”

Lex gave his head a small shake, rubbed the back of his neck. “Probably not.”

Her gaze drifted anxiously to the dog again and Lex followed her line of sight. Beano had lain down once more and pressed his nose against the chain link fence in a display of abject doggy misery. His brows alternately lifted and settled as he looked back and forth at them.

“You’re absolutely certain he won’t bite?” she asked, worrying her bottom lip.

“I’m certain,” Lex said confidently. “He’s never bitten anyone. Oh, he might jump up on you, give you a muddy, slobbery hug, but he won’t bite.”

She nodded once. “Then don’t leave him penned up. It’s not fair.”

Lex quirked a brow. “You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“And you won’t faint again?”

“Let’s hope not,” she said grimly. “If you don’t mind, though, wait until I go in. I’ve got a couple of things I need to get out of the car.”

“Sure. Would you like me to get them for you?” Lex offered. The last thing he needed to do was look for a reason to spend any more time with her, but he couldn’t seem to help himself. He wanted to be with her, felt compelled to be with her.

She shook her head. “Nah, it’s just a couple of little things. My laptop and the book I was reading, but thanks for asking.”

“No problem.”

To Lex’s unreasonable disappointment, she stood. “Well, I’m going to head around that way.” She glanced at the dog again, chewed the side of her bottom lip. “Why don’t you give me five minutes before you let him out?”

Lex chuckled softly. “Sure.” A thought struck him and before he could issue the order to his brain not to speak, his mouth formed the words. “Listen, would you like me to help you get over your fear of dogs? Beano would be the perfect animal for the job.”

She paused and an equally hopeful yet dubious expression claimed her features. “You could do that?”

Lex gave a hesitant nod. “I think so.”

She seemed to mull it over. “It would definitely help me out, particularly for this weekend. Zoe isn’t going to look like the badass she’s supposed to be if she’s afraid of a friendly dog.” She arched a brow. “I’m assuming Trudy covered all the particulars about the To Catch a Thief event?”

“She did. Sounds like a lot of fun,” he lied. Sounded like a lot of trouble, nothing he’d ever enjoy doing, at any rate. On the rare occasions Lex had any free time, he preferred to spend it rafting on the creek, or fishing. Not playing pretend with a bunch of amateur sleuths. Still, to each his own, he supposed.

“I’m playing Zoe—who is completely fearless—and I’m going to look like an idiot if I faint because of the dog.” She paused consideringly. “If you could help me out with him, I would really appreciate it.”

“I would be happy to,” Lex told her, ridiculously pleased. “Why don’t we start after dinner?” That would give him time to take care of everything around here, shower and shave.

She nodded. “Sure.”

“Great. I’ll see you then.” Lex followed Faith as she descended the steps. An awkward pause ensued when they reached the bottom. He could feel a goofy grin on his lips and couldn’t seem to tear his gaze away from hers. She was studying him intently again, making him feel as if she’d put his face under a microscope. Pride demanded that he be flattered, but he couldn’t help feeling a little bewildered as well, a sensation he’d been experiencing quite a bit since she got here.

“Er…is something wrong?” Lex finally asked.

She started, inhaling sharply, and her cheeks turned rosy with embarrassment. “No, nothing is wrong. Forgive me for staring. It’s just you, uh, bear a remarkable resemblance to someone I know.” She laughed self-consciously, crossed her arms over her chest. “Sorry.”

Probably someone she knew intimately, Lex thought, given the way her creamy cheeks had bloomed with color. He pulled in a tight breath through his nostrils and fought an irrational wave of jealously.

Her brow furrowed with perplexity. “Would you mind if I asked you a personal question, Mr. Ellenburg?”

“Not at all, and call me Lex.”

“Okay…Lex. How did you get that scar on your temple?”

Was that what she’d been staring at? Honestly, it was a small scar, hardly disfiguring. He’d even been told that it added character to his face. He shifted, suddenly ill at ease. “Well, I wish I could say that I got it during the Gulf War, or something equally heroic.”

“But you didn’t?”

He grinned, passed a hand over his face. “No…it was a bike accident. The chain broke at an inopportune moment. I landed in a blackberry bush and came out a little worse for the wear.”

Eyes glittering with undisguised laughter, she inclined her head. “Oh, I see.”

“The mission was heroic, though. At the time I was pretending to be a superhero.” He rocked back on his heels. “I flew, too. Right over the handle bars.”

She chuckled. “Ouch.”

“Ouch was right.” Lex shook his head, lost in the memory. “My mother picked briars out of my hide for days.”

“I’ll bet.” Faith glanced at the dog again, who’d begun to pace his cage. “Don’t forget to give me five minutes,” she reminded Lex, taking a couple of steps backward.

“I won’t.” Still laughing softly under his breath, he watched Faith walk away. She moved gracefully and the swing of her hips was positively mesmerizing. In addition to being one of the sexiest women he’d ever seen, she had an ass that simply would not quit. Full and heart-shaped, set off by a small, barely there waist. Perfect. Need pumped through his veins, making his blood and reflexes sluggish, which would explain why he hadn’t moved an inch, hadn’t continued to the woodpile that awaited his attention.

He admonished the dog to be patient—Beano had reared up on his hind legs and pawed agitatedly at the cage—then, cursing himself, Lex bustled into action. He had absolutely no business looking at her like that, much less thinking about how damn sexy she was. He didn’t have time for romance, dammit. He had to keep the lodge afloat. End of story.

Was he intrigued by her? Yes.

Was she hot? Most definitely.

But she was off-limits.

Lex set a piece of wood up on the chopping block and swung the ax with a little more force than was necessary to cleave the piece. Beano whimpered in his cage.

The realization was more depressing than it should have been under the circumstances. Hell, they’d just met.

Still, there was something about Faith Bonner that made him want to watch her, made him want to listen to the sound of her voice, made him want to kiss those carnal lips and see if they were as soft and talented as they looked. If he’d ever been this instantly intrigued and attracted to a woman, it had been so long ago he couldn’t recall it.

Lex exhaled mightily. But in the end, it simply didn’t matter. She was a guest—the guest that ultimately assured his season—and he simply couldn’t afford to let his baser needs get the better of him. The head with the brain had to maintain control. Too much rode on the outcome.





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