finally recovered his voice. “What did you say?”
Clearly pleased to have captured his full attention, she repeated, “I’m a hooker. I hook rugs. You know, cut and dyed, originally designed, handcrafted wool rugs?” She laughed at his expression. “I have an art degree, which doesn’t earn much in this part of Maine. I’m not cut out for the starving artist-in-a-garret route, so I had to find something practical to do. I do all kinds of needlecrafts, as well.”
“And that pays the bills?”
“Yes.” A mischievous dimple played around her pursed mouth. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to shock you.” The little witch didn’t look sorry at all; in fact, she looked downright smug.
“You didn’t shock me,” he said, trying not to laugh.
Her gray eyes twinkled. “Oh, yes, I did.”
He considered kissing that sassy mouth, then thought better of it. “You do know that kind of talk could land you in a hell of a lot of trouble in certain circles.”
The fact that she felt safe with him had registered.
She shrugged. “It’s only a joke. Most people think it’s pretty funny.”
His gaze ran over her, every delectable inch. He shook his head, marveling at her innocence. “You’re lucky it was me. Not one of those guys at that diner last night.”
Olivia didn’t feel lucky. In fact, she felt odd, and her pulse had quickened with the sweep of his dark eyes.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured, wondering why she was apologizing. Maybe the joke was on her. She’d felt his scorching glance—which only made her more aware of his maleness…and her helpless response.
But at least he was smiling!
Flustered, Olivia looked past him to the surrounding forest. “It’s so beautiful out here. Have you ever seen a tree with leaves that shade of banana gold?” she asked, knowing she sounded like a tourist. “What is it?”
He chuckled. “That’s a birch tree. Where did you live in California?” He leaned against the porch rail, looking at her.
Under that lingering gaze, Olivia felt herself flushing. “I grew up in lots of places before winding up in San Francisco.” She smiled, unaware that it was wistful, remembering the frequent moves and upheavals of her childhood. Her mother was always looking for something better than what she had, something different. Many times, Olivia had felt like the grown-up.
“Do you have family in California?” he asked.
“There’s no one close.” She shook her head.
“Not anymore. How about your family?”
Drew looked away. “They’re scattered around. We don’t stay in touch.” He knew it was the perfect opening. He should tell her about his situation.
Part of him wished she knew about his past, and part of him dreaded her finding out, especially from someone else. He should tell her. When he didn’t add any details, she turned toward the house.
“Well, I should do something about a meal,” she said. And suddenly he wanted to call her back.
But the moment passed.
After breakfast, Drew felt restless, confined. He decided to go for a walk, just because he could.
When informed of his plan, Olivia tilted her head. “That sounds like fun. Mind if I join you?”
Drew hid his irritation. “Sure.” He didn’t know how to stop her—short of locking her in the cabin—or telling her she couldn’t come. And somehow he couldn’t do either.
He grabbed his denim jacket, then waited while she took a jacket from her case. She pulled it on, tugging at the sleeve. The jacket was a tapestry of richly colored floral embroidery.
He recognized her unique touch. “Did you make that?”
She nodded, “Mmm.” Obviously a girl of many talents.
Outside, a breeze caught her hair. Bright leaves fell all around, carpeting the ground in colors of red, gold and russet. The crunch of dry leaves under Drew’s feet felt familiar. As a youth, he’d felt a special affinity for the woods. As he grew older, he’d forgotten that—just one of the things he’d taken for granted and ignored when it was his for the taking. Perhaps in his arrogance, a man could only appreciate the things that were hard-won. He took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of pine and woods.
They followed a path down to the crystal-clear lake. With Olivia tagging along, Drew soon realized that a silent communion with nature wasn’t in the cards. She was full of information.
Her chatter irritated him at first; but then the gentle rhythm of feminine tones soothed a loneliness he’d never acknowledged. A deep well that had never been filled. The realization startled him. He’d never thought of a woman as a companion. A soul mate. Perhaps if he had, he might have had better luck finding one.
She sighed, drawing his attention back. She was a feast for the eyes—eyes that had only seen drab concrete walls for so long. Like spun gold, yellow birch leaves fluttered down around her. “I was hoping to see some wildlife,” she said.
He chuckled. “Hush, you’re scaring them all away.” He placed his hands on her shoulders, then turned her toward the water’s edge. “Just wait a few minutes, then you’ll see.”
She leaned back slightly, and Drew caught his breath at the brush of her skirt against his thigh.
As predicted, before long, a doe with her fawn appeared, taking dainty steps out of the woods. They stopped by the water, dipping their heads to drink. Under his hands, Olivia stood absolutely still—until the doe prodded her offspring back up the steep bank and into the woods.
“How absolutely beautiful,” she whispered.
She turned, standing close. Her breasts were a tantalizing inch from his chest. All it took was one deep breath. At the physical contact, her lips parted on a small gasp.
“Olivia,” he murmured her name. Like a starving man, he wanted to drag her close and kiss her—taste her—but he knew he wouldn’t stop there.
Slowly releasing her, he stepped back.
Revealing her confusion, her hand shook as she brushed her hair back from her face. “Drew?”
He shook his head, saying harshly, “Nothing. Forget it.”
Without further word, he turned and walked away.
Even if tempted, he had nothing to offer a woman like Olivia. Except himself. And that was never enough for the women he’d known in the past.
They had nowhere to go but back to the cabin. Once fully aroused, he dreaded spending another night alone with Olivia.
Before meeting her, he’d had a plan—go to Henderson, pick up his car, cash out a small trust fund and pick up some clothes. He planned to grab his possessions and go somewhere—he didn’t know where. A woman, no
