closed her eyes and for a moment could imagine his strong arms wrapped around her, the spicy scent of his cologne on her skin, in her bedsheets. It had been so long since she’d been held in the warmth of an embrace, felt the breathless excitement of making love.
Sam Connelly looked like a man who would know how to please a woman. There had been a dark heat in his eyes as his gaze had slid the length of her, a sultry heat that had made her feel all tingly inside.
She snapped her eyes open and moved away from the window. What on earth was she thinking? It was ridiculous to fantasize about a guest, even one who looked like Sam.
One of her cardinal rules was to never get involved with her guests. Sam Connelly was just like all the other people she allowed into her life—fleeting and definitely temporary.
The ring of the phone pulled her from her crazy thoughts. As she went to the desk in the kitchen to answer, she noticed that the caller ID indicated the call was anonymous.
It wasn’t unusual for her to get anonymous calls. Some people called to find out the rates and information about the bed-and-breakfast and didn’t want her to have their number. They were probably afraid she’d make follow-up calls to them and try to talk them into a vacation they didn’t want.
“Bachelor Moon Bed and Breakfast,” she said into the receiver. There was a long moment of silence, although she could tell the line wasn’t dead. “Hello?”
“For you.”
The voice sounded strange, as if it had been somehow altered. “Excuse me?” Daniella replied. There was a soft click and she knew the caller was no longer on the line.
She hung up the phone with a frown. For you. What in the heck did that mean? Maybe she hadn’t heard right.
She tried to dismiss the call from her mind, knowing it was time to get lunch prepared. Still, as she got busy setting the dining room table for Sam’s lunch, she couldn’t stop the dark sense of foreboding that slithered through her.
Chapter Two
Sam fished through the lunch hour. He had a couple of bites but never landed a single fish. It didn’t matter. As the day wore on and the peaceful silence of his surroundings seeped through him he began to relax in a way he hadn’t done in years.
Not once did the details of a case enter his mind. Not once did he think about any of the killers he’d hunted and caught in his career. He just breathed in the air, napped for a few minutes and relaxed.
By four o’clock the late July sun was at its hottest, and he decided to call it a day and head inside to his room. He stored his fishing pole and tackle box in the trunk of his car and went into the house.
He saw nobody as he climbed the stairs to his room, but the air was redolent with the scent of cooking, and he immediately thought of the woman who would be his landlord for the next two weeks.
He certainly wouldn’t be averse to a little vacation romance as long as she was willing and able and understood the meaning of temporary. It was the only kind of relationship he had—hot and very, very temporary.
Minutes later he stood beneath a shower, grateful that the water pressure was good and the water steamy hot. He hoped the food was as good as it smelled. He regretted missing lunch because now he was starving.
Once he was out of the shower he dressed in a clean pair of jeans and a short-sleeved, light blue, button-up shirt, then stood at the window in his room and stared outside.
Today had been surprisingly pleasant, and he reluctantly admitted that maybe he had needed a vacation after all. He couldn’t remember when he’d taken any time off work over the last five or six years.
He was about to walk out of his room and head down to the dining area when his cell phone rang. A glance at the caller ID let him know it was Special Agent Jenna Taylor.
“Is this my favorite prince of darkness?” she asked when he answered.
“Hey, Jenna, what’s going on?” he asked, as he sat on the edge of the bed.
“I just wanted to check in with you and make sure you arrived at your vacation paradise okay.”
Six profilers worked out of the Kansas City FBI offices. Misunderstood by most civilians, branded as renegades within their department, they were a tight group with a bond that went beyond their jobs.
All of them were single, but when Jenna had traveled to Bridgewater, Texas, to investigate the murder of her best friend, she’d fallen for the local sheriff and was now in the process of transferring from the office in Kansas City to one in Texas.
“I’m here and have spent the day sitting in a chair with a fishing pole in my hand,” he replied.
“Good for you. You need this, Sam. You were on your way to falling so far into the darkness that nobody could have pulled you out.”
“Whatever,” he replied, already faintly irritated by the conversation.
“Seriously, Sam. You need balance in your life. You’ve got to get some good in with the bad, and it wouldn’t hurt if you’d find a nice woman to spend time with.”
“You know how I feel about that, so don’t even get me started,” he replied. “I like being alone and I intend to stay that way.”
“I know, but as someone who has just found the love of my life I wish all my friends could feel the same kind of happiness that I have.”
Sam sighed. Former smokers and the newly in love, they could both be irritating with their need to reform the entire world. The two talked for another few minutes and then ended the call.
As he walked downstairs to find the evening meal, he shoved thoughts of Jenna from his mind. He was going to miss working with her, but he was glad that she’d apparently found her soul mate.
Despite the fact that he’d found her attractive and had enjoyed working with her, there had never been any sparks between them. They had simply been coworkers who had become close friends.
All thoughts of Jenna left his mind as he entered the dining room to find two men already there. One of them stood near a sideboard pouring himself a cup of coffee from the urn on top, and the other was already seated at the table.
The man at the table stood as Sam entered the room. “You must be the new guest. I’m Matt Rader, a fellow guest of this great place.” He held out his hand to Sam.
“Sam Connelly,” Sam replied, as he shook Matt’s hand.
“I’m Frank, the handyman and gardener and general jack-of-all-trades,” the other man replied. “I saw you out on the dock earlier. Did you have any luck?”
“A few nibbles, nothing more.” Sam sat in one of the empty seats at the large table, assuming there was no seating assignment.
Frank took a seat opposite Sam. He was an older man—Sam guessed he was in his late forties—and he had the weathered features of a man who spent a lot of time outside. “You here on business or pleasure?”
“Strictly pleasure,” Sam replied.
