Jennifer Greene – Rock Solid (страница 3)

He took her toys. All of them. Even the palm reader. Even the headset for her disc player.

And then he motioned her toward a back staircase and led the way up. “Last week, the place was full—for us, that means ten guests, the max we can handle at a time. Or the max we want to. For the next couple of weeks, it’ll be extra nice, though, just you and a few others. Come summer, we’ll be extra busy again. Now…the library’s on the third floor in the back, and it’s well stocked. Workout gym, massage room and hot tub are in the square building off the north— Bubba comes in three times a week to do the masseuse thing. You’ll meet him tomorrow, and you’ll meet Keegan at dinner tonight. Keegan’s working on his Ph.D. as a naturalist, and in the meantime trading cooking and some bookkeeping for room and board. And George makes up the last of the staff, he’s the housekeeper…he’s a little on the gruff side, but he gets the job done, comes in around four mornings a week and we cope the rest of the time on our own. You leave the house, let someone know. Or check out at the desk in the kitchen. Lots of great places to wander, but we don’t want you getting lost….”

The more Cash informed her about the lodge setup, the more Lexie kept thinking: lions and tigers and bears, oh my. Maybe this was a mistake. Back in Chicago, coming here had seemed like such a foolproof idea. Since she was too much of a workaholic to force herself to rest, she’d chosen to go where she simply had to. And this place certainly fit that bill, except that she’d never envisioned anywhere so uncivilized that it actually had bears and cougars. And no malls.

“Here, you go.” At the top of the stairs, Cash motioned her inside the first room to the west, then stepped in himself and lined up her luggage as obediently as Catholic school children. After that he pushed open the sash of the far window, letting in another gush of stinging fresh air. “Okay now…the bathroom’s through that door. Dinner’ll be served around six, so you’ve got some time to unwind, unpack, wander around. If you need anything before then—”

“No, honestly, I’m fine.”

“No questions at all so far? You like the room?”

“No questions. And the room’s wonderful.” She saw the four-poster bed and bureau in wild cherry wood, the country quilt and feather mattress. The bed alone could have slept three people her size. Maybe four.

The bedroom window in her Chicago apartment—her $2,000 a month Chicago apartment—viewed someone else’s bedroom in someone else’s pricey Chicago apartment. Here she looked out on mountains that were too damn breathtaking to make a picture postcard. Nobody’d believe they were real. Yet somehow she was the one who felt unreal, just trying to look around and believe she could possibly fit in around here.

“Lexie?” When his hand touched her shoulder, she spun around with a city woman’s instincts honed against getting too close to strangers. His hand jerked back, yet his shrewd blue eyes suddenly rested on her face, something warm and evocative and completely unexpected in his eyes.

Cash had been nothing but kind and friendly from their first phone contact, and certainly since she’d arrived here. Still, his attitude had been exactly what she’d expected and exactly what it should be—completely impersonal. That he might see her differently from the other city slickers who came to his Silver Mountain hadn’t occurred to her…until she suddenly felt his gaze on her face, the connection in his touch.

“You’re feeling like a fish thrown in the desert, aren’t you?” he asked quietly.

“Yes.” There was no point in denying it.

“So did I, once upon a time. But I’ve been in your shoes, Lex, working so hard and so furiously that I didn’t realize I was forgetting to stop and take a breath. And this mountain has magic, I swear. You don’t have to be an outdoor person to get the benefits…you don’t ever have to do anything like this again, either. But we both have the same goal—not to send you back home until you feel rested and recharged again. Okay?”

“Okay,” she said, and decided then and there that she was in love with him.

Having only known him for less than a half hour, of course, she didn’t exactly mean a death-defying type of love—but she wasn’t looking for that, anyway. She’d come here expecting the next month to be a penance, though, and instead McKay was not only kind and perceptive, but as a bonus, he had a quick sense of humor. Maybe the next few weeks weren’t going to be as terrible as she’d dreaded.

Once Cash disappeared downstairs, she opened suitcases and closets, pushed off her sandals and started settling in. Yet only minutes later, she heard the distant high-pitched squeal of a child, and she wandered over to the window to investigate.

The boy bounding up the mountain path, yelling for Cash, was easy to identify as a McKay. He had Cash’s same tawny hair and long legs. The urchin was maybe eight? Nine? Not so old that he cared a hoot if his hair was wind-tangled or his jeans dirt-dusted from the bottoms up.

And right below her bedroom window, Lexie suddenly saw the child leap in the air—obviously trusting without question that he was going to be safely caught. And Cash was suddenly there, swinging him around and high as if the boy weighed nothing. She heard the child’s joyous, “Guess what, Cash? Guess what?”

And then Cash’s low, rumbling laughter before both of them lowered their voices and ducked out of sight.

For a few moments, Lexie couldn’t seem to budge from the window. Something old and aching swelled in her throat, the way listening to an old love song could trigger potent longings sometimes. There’d been so much love and laughter in Cash’s voice…and so much trust and love in the little boy’s voice, the same way.

With a sudden impatient sigh, Lexie pushed away from the window and forced herself to finish the unpacking job. There was no excuse for letting that longing feeling get to her. God knew, she’d been blessed in her life. Sometimes, though, as much as she adored her adoptive parents, she still remembered her mom and dad, remembered that kind of secure, natural, joyous love, remembered feeling as if she belonged. Once upon a time, she’d been a fearless, sassy kid who’d never doubted for a second that she owned the whole world.

She was still fearless. Still sassy—or so the investment guys she worked with regularly teased her. And she’d always been loved, even if she had lost her real parents at a vulnerable young age. But somehow, since that time, she’d never gotten back that feeling of belonging.

As she finished the last of her unpacking, her gaze drifted around the room, from the oil lantern on the bureau to the rag rug to the big, varnished door with the thick brass latch. It was a good, sturdy room. Comfortable. Safe-feeling. But she didn’t belong here any more than she did anywhere else. And at twenty-eight, sometimes, the feeling of loneliness just seemed to overwhelm her.

Lexie headed for the door, doing what she always did when old, disturbing shadows started chasing her. She thought about money. It was the one subject on the planet that she was unquestionably fabulous at. Making it. Hoarding it. Amassing it. Other women dreamed of lovers. Lexie dreamed of taking a bath in silver dollars, luxuriating naked in all that cool, smooth silver, letting it rive and flow and tickle and cool her overheated skin.

Sure, love was nice. But when you lost people, it ripped out your soul. Money was far more effective security. Lose some money, and there was always more to be made.

Of course, for the next few weeks, she was stuck in this godforsaken wilderness and couldn’t make a dime. But as she glanced at her watch and then headed downstairs for dinner, she thought that at least there was no possible threat to her of any kind here—unless one could overdose on too much fresh air.

And both McKay males looked as if they were going to be interesting company and a lot of fun.

No worry for her, in any possible way.

Two

Talk about trouble.

Cash scooped up another serving of lasagna, even though he’d barely tasted the first serving. All through dinner he hadn’t been able to take his eyes off Ms. Alexandra Jeannine Woolf. Any other time, that big name of hers would have amused him. The first time he’d heard it—on the phone—he’d unconsciously assumed that she’d be physically substantial like the size of her name. Instead Lexie couldn’t weigh much more than a sack of potatoes…but that wasn’t to say she wasn’t one potent female package.

One worrisome potent female package.

He’d already inhaled the physical details. Lips like ripe-soft peaches. Eyes like luscious, liquid chocolate. Nothing exactly unusual about her hair—it was short and wildly curly—but the color was a glossy raven-black, a striking contrast to her porcelain pale skin.

Cash gulped down some iced tea. He’d been baby-sitting executives and business hotshots for almost a decade—long enough to recognize the labels she was wearing. More men than women came to Silver Mountain, but the women who chose to stay here invariably had The Look. Expensive. Tasteful. Whatever they wore, you never saw on anybody else. And nothing, naturally, was ever practical for outdoor mountain life.