a few seconds, she hesitated, weighing her options. The label was a clear warning. And maybe she should wait until her sisters could come and they could look inside together? But patience had never been her strong suit.
Very carefully, she lifted the cover off the box. Inside, there was a pile of envelopes. She didn’t hesitate as long this time. But she didn’t choose the top one. Instead, she dug deep and drew out one near the bottom of the box.
After all, what could be the harm? In her life experience, fantasies were nice, but they didn’t come true all that often.
Opening it, she read it and her head spun. As fast as she could, she stuffed the parchment back into the envelope, returned it to the box and closed the lid. Jumping up, she walked on legs she couldn’t feel to return the hatbox to the secret room. Then she pushed the lever that slid the panel back into place. Because she still had a bad case of jelly knees, she leaned against the wall.
It had to have been a coincidence. Who could possibly have known about the fantasy that had fueled several of her adolescent dreams?
Perhaps all the envelopes held the same fantasy. But she didn’t have the courage left to reopen the hatbox to find out.
And it was ridiculous to feel so … unsettled by a silly parchment. What she’d read, after all, was just words pure and simple.
Lifting her chin, she turned and strode to the mirror. All she saw was her own reflection.
“What were you doing with that box, Hattie? And why is it the only thing in your secret room?”
No answer. Except for the words that flashed as bright as a neon sign in her mind. The one you draw out will come true.
Heart pounding, she whirled and barely kept herself from running down the iron staircase.
2
AS HER CAR HIT THE OIL slick and went into a spin, Jillian kept her foot steady on the brake and gripped the steering wheel for dear life. It badly wanted to jerk out of her hands, but she fought it just as one of her ex-boyfriends had taught her.
The hairpin curve she’d been negotiating had blocked the oil slick from view until she was nearly on it. Still, she might have sailed through it without incident if only the SUV hadn’t appeared out of nowhere….
Sounds assaulted her ears—the squeal of tires, the whir and rat-a-tat-tat of gravel as it struck the car. Her heart thundered like a freight train speeding its way through a tunnel.
In a distant part of her mind, she waited for her life to flash before her eyes.
Nada.
All she saw was a rotation of freeze-framed images—the ditch at the side of the turn, the tall tower of Haworth House shooting into a cloudless blue sky, a row of tall pines, followed by the large vehicle blocking the road ahead. And all the while the pavement beneath her screamed.
With one final shudder, her car stopped spinning and the noises stopped. She drew in a deep breath, felt it burn her lungs, and then finally focused on the view through her windshield. Only then did her heart shoot to her throat. Even through a haze of dust, she could see the front of the large, silver-toned SUV only inches away.
Inches.
She pried her hands from the steering wheel and noted they were trembling. Beyond them she saw a figure unfold himself from the driver’s seat of the SUV and move toward her.
Because of the glare of the sun on her windshield and the fact that her sunglasses had flown off while she was in ditch-and-tree-avoidance mode, she got only a dim impression of a tall, lanky figure. A man?
“Are you all right?” Definitely a man. The deep voice clinched it.
“I’m fine.” She glanced down at herself just to make sure. But she had to be fine. There was no time for Jillian Brightman to be otherwise. To emphasize the point, she scrambled out from behind the wheel of her Beetle. Her knees only threatened to buckle. Good news. “How about you? ”
“I’m okay, but I didn’t just bring my car out of a tailspin that racecar fans would have applauded. Nice driving.”
“I didn’t expect that oil slick, and I was in a big hurry. I usually am.” It seemed she hadn’t had time to breathe in the fourteen months since she and her sisters had bought Haworth House and begun work on opening their hotel.
When she used her hand to brush the dust off her jacket, she saw that it was no longer trembling. Good.
“It was a close call.”
“Yeah.” When she glanced up, a wide, solid-looking chest filled her vision. She hadn’t heard his approach. Now they stood toe to toe, only inches separating them.
Move back. The warning flashed into her mind as awareness rippled through her and her heart gave a little thud.
He was big. At five foot two, she was used to men being taller. But as she tilted her head way back, she figured he had to be six-three or-four. Since he hadn’t lost his sunglasses, she couldn’t see his eyes but she noted the shaggy straw-colored hair, the very male face with a slash of cheekbones, the trace of stubble on his jawline. When her gaze lingered on his mouth, her heart gave another thud.
This time when the warning flashed, she drew back and slammed into the side of her car.
He grabbed her arms to steady her. One of his feet had moved between her legs and for a moment, she felt the long hard length of his thigh pressed against hers. Heat arrowed out from the contact point and pooled in her center. A mist settled over her brain, and her throat went dry.
“Are you all right?”
She was still coming down from the adrenaline rush of nearly hitting him. That had to be it. Her senses were still in overdrive. That was why she felt the pressure of each one of his fingers on her arms. That was why she was having trouble finding her voice.
“I’m fine,” she lied. She was going to start to tremble any second.
One of them moved. Jillian wasn’t sure which one, but suddenly he was even closer. She felt the warmth of his breath on her mouth. She could almost taste it, and what shocked her was that she wanted more. Then there was nothing but the torrid, liquid heat of that one concentrated desire.
For a moment, she was incredibly tempted to go on impulse—to rise up on her toes and close that last little distance between them.
No. This was not a time in her life when she could afford to throw caution to the winds. This man was a stranger. And she had … business … Business that had slipped right out of her mind the instant this man had touched her.
She wasn’t sure how she found the strength to raise a hand and press it firmly against his chest. “I have to go.”
He dropped his hands and stepped away. But he didn’t return to his car. Instead, he circled hers. His movements were slow so she had plenty of time to take in the broad shoulders, narrow waist and long legs in tight, tattered jeans. In spite of the distraction, most of her brain cells clicked back on. And by the time he
