who had been responsible for the death of her great-grandparents.
“Over here are the greenhouses and hothouses. The small one is for flowers and plants that are ultimately transplanted to the gardens surrounding the house. The large ones are vegetable gardens that provide us with produce almost year-round. Actually, with the vegetable gardens, grain and feed crops, livestock and poultry, the estate can be self-sufficient as far as food is concerned.” He held the door open for her and they entered one of the large glass structures.
They continued the tour well into the afternoon. He carefully kept her away from the lodge house and cemetery, even though the police had taken down the yellow crime-scene tape from around the crypt. He pointed out the areas that would be utilized for the annual festival.
“The tithe barn will be used by local antique dealers. We’ll erect a large tent on the south lawn for crafts people from the nearby villages to display their wares. The field adjacent to the barn will be turned into a minicarnival. The north lawn will be used for the children’s competitions such as the sack race, three-legged race, tug-of-war…things like that.”
For the most part, each kept the conversation on a superficial level, much as it had been during breakfast. Taylor asked some questions about specific aspects of physically setting up the festival, and Donovan provided her with the requested information. She was very impressed with everything Donovan had shown her. Even though the house gave off ominous vibes of past misdeeds, in the sunlight it was beautiful and the interior elegantly appointed. The estate seemed every bit as prosperous as she had first thought.
She gestured toward the swimming pool. “This is a very interesting juxtaposition…a fourteenth-century tithe barn next to a modern swimming pool and hot tub.”
Donovan took a steadying breath. No matter how much he didn’t want it to be, she made his heart pound and his pulse race. He continued to be troubled by the eerie sensation that he knew her.
Donovan had been far more discreet in his relationships with women than his cousin. Alex already had two failed marriages and a flamboyant lifestyle that included many unprofitable forays into the private casinos in London. On several occasions Donovan had paid off his cousin’s gambling debts.
While Donovan had engaged in numerous quiet affairs away from the village, he had never married. But he had never before been so immediately and strongly attracted to any woman as he was to Taylor MacKenzie. It was an overwhelming and mysterious attraction he couldn’t explain and didn’t understand.
An attraction that frightened him as much as it fascinated him.
He took an impulsive step in Taylor’s direction, brushed his fingertips against her cheek, then slowly lowered his mouth to hers. It was a fleeting kiss, barely more than a touching of the lips, but one that held all the heat and passion he felt when he had resisted the urge to kiss her earlier. He ran his fingers through her hair, then started to wrap her in his embrace.
“Taylor…I—” He let her go and took a quick step backward, putting distance between them. He immediately berated himself for his foolish and unacceptable behavior. The words felt awkward as they left his mouth. “I…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for that to happen.”
Taylor’s words came out as a startled whisper. “That’s all right.” She had to force the rest, not at all sure what to say or how to say it. “No harm done.”
No harm done? Waves of confusion swept through her. She desperately needed to apply some logic to what had happened. At first a sense of relief washed through her, telling her how thankful she was that he had changed his mind and not pursued the kiss any further. It saved her from having to make a decision about whether to allow it.
There was no mistaking the ripples of excitement that accompanied her confusion or the heated desire she experienced every time Donovan looked at her. The feeling was almost surreal, as if she was being drawn into something beyond her control—something disturbingly ominous yet so enthralling that she couldn’t resist the temptation. Nothing in her experience had prepared her for the strange dichotomy going on inside her at that moment.
He was not what she expected when he opened the door to her upon her arrival. Dynamic…yes. Handsome…yes, very. Incredibly sexy…most certainly. Mysterious and secretive…also true. He had a manner she could almost describe as brooding even though the couple of occasions when he displayed his dazzling smile showed an entirely different side to him. But still, the impact on her senses was anything but subtle—far more than she had believed could happen and she wasn’t able to shake it away.
Donovan awkwardly shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his words carrying the hesitation and uncertainty he felt. “I should let you get started on your work, and I have some estate business to tend to. I’ll see you later. If you need anything, please feel free to ask. If I’m not available, Bradley will tend to whatever you need or want.”
“Thank you for the tour. It was fascinating. I think I’ll go to my room and get my notes together.” And see if I can’t get my composure and emotions together, as well.
Donovan escorted Taylor inside the manor house, then watched as she ascended the staircase to the second floor. As soon as she was out of sight he returned to his suite of rooms to seek privacy and some much-needed solitude. He poured a glass of water from the carafe before sinking into the large chair. He rubbed his temples as he took several deep breaths. He desperately needed to sort things out, especially the mysterious pull she exerted on his senses whenever he was around her, which had expanded to include every time he thought about her. And those occasions seemed to be occurring with increased frequency with each passing hour.
He tried to collect his thoughts. First there was the shock of his father’s death—his father’s suicide—two months ago, a situation that still caused him great emotional pain. Then there were the blinding headaches that would strike from out of nowhere followed by periods of disorientation—the same symptoms his father had experienced before his suicide. Then came the disturbing dreams. Next came the bizarre happenings at the crypt.
And finally the appearance of this very disconcerting, yet very familiar, woman.
He could not dislodge the feeling that some sort of mysterious thread tied all of these events together. If only he could figure out what it was. Taylor’s countenance continued to haunt his mind—the set of her eyes, the shape of her face, the sensual mouth…the deliciously sensual mouth that tasted of everything he had ever wanted. The nagging feeling that he had encountered her somewhere continued to confound him. There had to be an answer. He closed his eyes. An image began to form, a faint vision of a woman’s face. He tried to bring it into focus, but it refused to completely materialize.
Donovan opened his eyes, the disturbing image having faded completely. His gaze landed on his father’s trunk. His father had always kept it locked and he had never known what was in it.
When his father committed suicide he had left a note. Donovan found it the next morning when he discovered his father’s body. The note was only an apology and did not shed any light on the reason the elder Sedgwick had committed suicide.
Donovan had found the key to the mysterious trunk in the nightstand next to his father’s bed. He had done a cursory check of the contents following his father’s funeral and had been disappointed in the routine items he found. The way his father had kept the trunk locked had led him to believe that it contained something pertinent. However, he had not inspected anything in depth.
He emitted an audible sigh of resignation, then rose from the chair and took the key from his dresser drawer. Now would be as good a time as any to
