he glanced around the spacious dining room. Black suit, white shirt, and nondescript black tie. According to his sisters, Jake had a closet full of black suits and white shirts. They were his standard business uniform—no deviation allowed. No bright, cheerful colors to spice up his wardrobe. Amazing, since Jake was touted as a highly creative design wizard.
Obviously, there was an interesting, unique man trapped inside that black suit. Moriah wondered if he would emerge in two weeks. Jake was definitely going to be a challenge, considering his tendency toward the stubborn and contrary. But she’d find a way to teach him to relax and enjoy his vacation.
Again, her astute gaze flooded over his lean physique and eye-catching profile. Jake Prescott wasn’t classically handsome. His features were a mite sharp and defined, and his displeased frown could be quite severe. She ought to know, having been on the wrong side of his displeasure during the long drive.
Moriah guessed Native American blood ran through his veins. His sisters bore a similar resemblance with their dark complexion and high cheekbones. Three peas from the same pod, and a family devoted to each other to boot, Moriah mused. Kim and Lisa were determined to save their beloved brother from his monotonous life, and Moriah was being well-paid to ensure the transformation took place—beginning now.
“Jake! Are you ready to settle into your cabin?” she called out to him.
He half-turned to stare down his nose at her. Yep, she definitely had her work cut out for her, she decided as she mustered another cheery smile to counter his aggravated frown.
2
MORIAH MOTIONED for Jake to follow her outside. When she stopped by the sport-utility vehicle to retrieve the suitcase he hovered over her, all but breathing down her neck.
“What’s that?” he questioned grouchily.
“Your sisters packed casual clothes for you,” she reported, handing him the luggage.
Moriah bit back a giggle when he stared at the baggage as if it were a live cobra. The reality that he was staying and that he needed several changes of clothes obviously hit him full force. The poor man was in for a shock when she left him at his cabin with his suitcase of casual clothes and nothing but free time on his hands. She sincerely hoped he didn’t freak out.
Jake hefted up the luggage and tossed her a smirk. “It’s a relief to hear you didn’t pack for me. I wouldn’t look worth a damn if I were impersonating a flag.”
Another cheap shot about her attire, she noted. If he thought trouncing on her feelings would get him out of here sooner then he was mistaken. She had her reasons for dressing colorfully, not that it was any of his business why she did it.
“Your sisters packed jeans and bland-tan and hohum-green chambray shirts,” she informed him. “I believe the term they used when referring to you was ‘a drab dresser’.”
He glanced sharply at her and frowned. “I believe the correct terms are conventional for me and outrageously flamboyant for you.”
Moriah shrugged lackadaisically as she made the three-hundred-yard hike to cabin number seven. “Outside dressing is really of no concern here at Triple R,” she assured him. “We aren’t the least bit superficial and we’re more interested in acknowledging and being kind to the true, inner self.”
He snorted at that. He was nothing if not predictable, Moriah thought.
“So, who actually owns this place?” he asked, falling into step just enough ahead of her to indicate he refused to leave the impression he was being led around. “Some stressed-out corporate executive who needs an occasional hiatus to revive those inner juices you keep harping about?”
“No, I own the place,” she informed him.
“You?” He glanced down at her. “You can’t be over twenty-five. Is Daddy’s money paying for this resort?”
“Actually I inherited the land when my mother died. My dad had a stroke three years ago because he worked constantly.” She sent him a pointed glance, then a smile. “Dad lives in the apartment beside mine behind the lodge. I’m thirty, by the way, not twenty-five, but thank you for the compliment.”
“It wasn’t meant to be one,” he didn’t fail to remark.
Moriah grinned at him. “Really? I was so hoping you’d have one nice thing to say about me.”
Before she could unlock the cabin door, Jake slapped a big hand on the doorjamb and stared her squarely in the eye. His expression was solemn, his onyx eyes intense. “We better get something straight from the get-go. I have no intention of being reformed by you or big brawny Tom Stevens, or stout Anna Jefferies or the rest of your staff. I like my life dandy-fine, thank you very much. How about if you give my well-meaning but misdirected kid sisters their money back and save yourself the wasted effort of cramming this compulsory R-and-R down my throat? In case you haven’t figured it out yet—and, smart lady that you are, I’m sure you have—I’m not planning to cooperate. In fact, I plan to be anything but cooperative.”
Moriah nodded in mock seriousness as she stabbed the key into the lock. “I understand completely and I realize this vacation will cramp your voracious and kinky sex life. But the contract states there will be no refunds, except in the event that you die of boredom.” She grinned at his ferocious scowl. “Then, of course, your sisters will be cheerfully reimbursed.”
“Real cute, Miss Chipper,” he muttered sarcastically.
“A compliment! Thank you kindly, Mr. Predictable,” she gushed as she shouldered through the doorway.
“Good God…” Jake halted on the threshold, his verbal sparring obviously forgotten. He stared at the interior of the cabin in such frantic horror that Moriah nearly burst out laughing at his reaction. “There’s no TV, no radio, no phone, no…” His voice gave out as his goggle-eyed gaze circled the room to appraise the overstuffed, sprawl-all-over-me couch and come-here-and-let-me-rub-you-all-over massage recliner. Then his astounded gaze leaped to the Murphy bed that folded down from the cedar-paneled walls.
Moriah watched his comical reaction to the simply furnished room that was equipped with soothing music, designed to relax tense guests, and decorated with the peaceful landscape paintings that depicted the timeless essence of snow-covered mountains, a rippling seashore and a rolling prairie. Most of her guests suffered minimal culture shock when they first arrived at the resort, but Jake reacted noticeably and made no attempt whatsoever to disguise his disapproval. Clearly, electronic-gadget withdrawal had hit him hard and fast.
He gaped at her, as if he’d been sentenced to two weeks in torturous hell. “You can’t be serious!” he choked out. “What the devil am I supposed to do with myself in this cabin for two tormenting weeks? And don’t give me that crap about tuning in to my inner self again or I’ll have to strangle you!”
He looked so thunderstruck and dismayed that she reflexively reached out to give him a consoling pat on the arm. Moriah was astonished at the tension pulsing through him. Lord, the poor man had no idea how desperately he needed to escape the rat race.
“Everything is going to be fine, Jake. You aren’t going to self-destruct in this unfamiliar environment, I promise.”
“Yeah, right. I’m self-destructing as we speak,” he said, and snorted.
