that would be nice, if you don’t mind.” She followed him into the main entryway.
Jewel-colored light splashed across the wall above her. Opposite, a stained-glass panorama stretched above the heavy oak doors, depicting a mermaid singing to a sea prince.
“Do you prefer to wander on your own or would you like the guided tour?” Cain asked.
Her glance fell across a side table adorned with an assortment of gilt-framed photographs. The delicacy of the table and its ornate trimmings seemed in contrast to the man’s dark nature. A blond woman with an easy smile peered from one of the frames.
Nikki straightened, suddenly feeling very much like an intruder. “I’d like the guided tour…if I’m not keeping you from anything.”
He gestured with a wide sweep of his arm. “This is the foyer.”
Her gaze again gravitated toward the stained-glass window. The mermaid’s wistful expression elicited a strange melancholy in her. Or did the image evoke the emotion in Cain and she was feeling it from him? Why would such a beautiful display cause him sorrow? She frowned. Being empathic wasn’t easy.
She blinked inexplicable moisture from her eyes as his gaze pinned her. “Is it an original?” she asked. “I’ve never seen anything quite like it—or the fountain, for that matter.”
“Yes. They were both commissioned.”
He turned stiffly, and she followed him into the formal living room off to one side of the entryway. Here the contrast between the style of furniture and the man seemed even starker. High wing-backed chairs and sofas, dark claw-foot tables and delicate lamps adorned the space. Silk wallpaper with tiny rosebuds covered the walls, one of which featured shiny brass sconces flanking a large oil painting of a Victorian lady meeting her lover.
Nikki couldn’t help but verify her suspicions. “You collect antiques?”
Though his shoulders remained steady, he seemed to sag somehow. “It would appear so.”
“I’m sorry. It’s just a little odd. You don’t seem to be the claw-foot type.” As if she had any idea what type he might be.
His gaze caught hers. For a moment a storm threatened in his eyes, then he cocked his head and seemed to relax. “Perhaps I’m not.”
“Oh.” She waited with bated breath, but he didn’t elaborate.
Did the woman in the picture collect the antiques and knickknacks? If so, where was she now? Was she the cause of Cain’s pain?
And exactly what would you do about it if she were?
The doorbell saved Nikki from further speculation. Ginger Parker arrived in a bluster of apologies and out of breath, her blue-gray hair tousled by the wind. “I’m so sorry I kept you waiting.”
She patted her hair in place and turned to Cain. “Thank you for letting Ms. McClellan in.”
He nodded toward the study on the opposite side of the foyer. “No problem. I was just working.”
“Oh, well, we’ll let you get back to it then. Don’t mind us. We’ll just poke around on our own.” Ginger shooed him toward the study.
Dylan hesitated. His gaze swung over his prospective buyer. She was quite attractive with her brown eyes and coffee-colored hair. She had a sturdy build, not too thin, but she seemed unsteady at the moment. He’d made her uncomfortable somehow. She looked…upset.
“Ginger has been through already. She previewed the house a couple of days ago,” he said, wanting to reassure the woman. “You’re in safe hands, Ms. McClellan.”
“Oh, please call me Nikki.”
“Nikki then.” He extended his hand. “And I’m Dylan.”
“Yes, Dylan it is.” She placed her hand in his.
Warmth surged through him. Not just the tingling heat of sexual awareness—though that was there, too, which surprised him. Sure, on those rare occasions when Steven Benson, his lifelong friend, had dragged him out, he’d felt the odd passing attraction. But nothing like this.
Earlier in the garden, Nikki’s lush figure and sparkling eyes had had his mind wandering along lustful paths he hadn’t pondered in a very long time. Now her warmth enveloped him in comfort and ease. As he looked into her eyes, serenity such as he had not known these past two years descended on him. Her gaze softened, and he could no more look away than he could let go of her hand. He fought the alarming urge to sweep her into his arms.
What had come over him and who was this woman?
Ginger cleared her throat. “Shall we?”
Nikki glanced away, breaking the spell. She pulled her hand from his as pink blossomed in her cheeks. “Yes, of course. So far I love it. It’s certainly more house than I’d anticipated.”
“Let’s start with the study, then we can let Dylan get back to work.” Ginger ushered her client in that direction.
Dylan followed, staring blankly at the papers on his desk. What had he been working on? A haze clouded his mind. He turned and nearly collided with Nikki.
“Now this is your room.” Appreciation shone in her dark eyes as she took in the solid-oak furnishings and cluttered tabletops. Papers and files pertaining to the fraud case he was working on covered nearly every available space.
“I…this is where I work when I’m home. I like it to be…utilitarian.” In fact, it was the one room Kathy had had no interest in.
“Dylan’s an attorney.” Ginger rubbed her hands together. “He’s defending Councilman Weatherby. Imagine, one of Miami’s finest citizens on trial like a common criminal. You’ll get him off, won’t you, Dylan? I can’t believe George has done a dishonest thing in his life.”
“I’m not at liberty to discuss the case. The local media is having a field day with it as it is.”
“Yes.” Nikki cocked her head. “I believe I did read something about it. I’m sorry. I don’t follow the news as closely as I should. I spend my days doctoring furry critters, then fall into bed exhausted at night. I don’t know where the time goes.”
“You’re a veterinarian?” Dylan almost smiled, picturing the lovely brunette with her “critters.”
“Yes, I am. I’ve always gotten along better with animals than people.” She caught her bottom lip between her teeth.
It was a full bottom lip. Luscious. Made for kissing.
“Nikki has her own clinic in Bay Heights,” Ginger said.
Dylan forced himself to look away from Nikki. Guilt filled him. What had made him think of kissing her? Had the woman bewitched him? He cleared his throat. “Bay Heights. That wouldn’t be a far drive.”
“No, not at all.” Nikki turned to Ginger. “I’m anxious to see the rest of the house.”
“Of course you
