Authors: Stephanie James
Rani awoke to the sound of the bedroom closet door being opened. For a moment she lay still, trying to assimilate both the memories of the night and the fact that it was morning. Life had changed overnight. She wasn't sure how to deal with the change.
The closet door squeaked, and there was a shuffling sound. Hangers scraped along the wooden rod. Blinking sleepily Rani turned and peered across the room. Zipp was sitting on the foot of the bed, watching intently as Flint hung three work shirts and a couple of pairs of pants beside Rani's brightly colored garments. His clothing looked somber and masculine next to her own.
"What in the world is going on?" Rani sat up, grabbing for the sheet as it fell aside. She had never gotten around to putting on her nightgown last night. Flint was fully dressed in his customary jeans and faded shirt. She felt awkward and shy in her nakedness, overly conscious of her hair fall-ing in a tousled mass onto her shoulders. "What are you doing Flint?" Even as she stared at him he reached down to the battered leather bag at his feet and removed several pairs of socks. These he set about placing in one of the drawers of the dresser.
"I'm just getting comfortable." He arranged the socks in neat, orderly rows and then added a stack of masculine underwear.
"Comfortable! It looks more like you're moving in."
He grinned and shoved the drawer closed. "No sense running back and forth to the other cottage every morning. Of course I'm moving in. What did you expect after last night?" He was beside the bed in two long strides, bending down to kiss her fully on her astonished, upturned mouth.
"But, Flint…" The confused protest was blocked by the kiss. Rani found herself crushed firmly back against the pillows. When Flint released her mouth he looked satisfied. No, it was more than satisfied, Rani decided. There was a distinctly male kind of arrogance about him that morning and it would need watching.
"You," he told her, surveying her critically, "are a very interesting sight in the mornings." He reached down to pat her tousled head. "Nice and warm and rumpled."
"Rumpled!"
"And grumpy. What you need is a morning coffee. I'll go get it started."
"Flint, wait a minute. Where do you think you're going? We have to talk about this."
"Later," he promised from halfway down the hall.
Rani sat staring after him, totally at a loss. It was just as she had predicted the first night she had met him. Give the man an inch and he would grab a mile. One night in her bed and he was moving in on her without even asking permission. It was outrageous. It was also entirely her own fault.
She had to say one thing for herself: when she finally did decide to take risks with a man she had certainly done it in a spectacular manner.
Feeling alarmingly helpless, Rani pushed back the covers and padded quickly into the bathroom. She needed a hot shower before she could deal with Flint Cottrell. She undoubtedly would need a great deal more than a hot shower, but she couldn't imagine what it would be that would do the trick. Cottrell was outside her ken, a man from another world.
And she had let him make love to her last night
. What on earth had she been thinking of to allow that to happen? More importantly, she wasn't sure what to do about the situation now.
It was the way she had awakened to find him calmly moving his things into her bedroom that really brought home the enormity of the situation, she decided as she stood under the hot spray and tried to analyze the mess in which she found herself. If Flint had politely retreated to his own cottage that morning and had made it clear he would only return when and if she wished, Rani thought she might have been able to deal with the traumatic events of the previous night. She would have retained some sense of control, some sense of safety. Instead he had simply assumed that the one-night stand was the beginning of a full-fledged vacation affair.
Rani groaned to herself in the shower. It wasn't that she had wanted a one-night stand, but neither had she intended to start an affair with a man like Flint Cottrell. She was experiencing that trapped feeling again, and she didn't know what to do about it. It was, after all, her own fault that she had found herself in bed with Flint.
She couldn't blame him and she couldn't hate him, she realized. The night before had been uniquely wonderful. She had been a thoroughly willing party in the seduction. Al-though she was feeling wary and ambivalent now, she knew she couldn't bring herself to regret the previous night's lovemaking.
Rani just wished she didn't feel on the defensive. That much was definitely Flint's fault. He had a lot of nerve to simply move into her bedroom after only a single night in her bed.
Gathering her determination and her willpower around her as though it were an invisible suit of armor, Rani dressed in a pair of fuchsia pants and a fuchsia-striped knit pullover. She put her hair up in its assertive little knot and headed boldly for the kitchen.
Zipp was in his usual position on the windowsill, soaking up the early morning sun. Flint was standing near the stove, eyeing the contents of a frying pan.
"You like your eggs up or over?"
Rani thought about it. "Over."
He nodded. "So do I. This is going to be easy, isn't it?"
"What's going to be easy?" She picked up the mug of coffee that was waiting for her.
"Living together."
Rani coughed as a swallow of very hot coffee went down awkwardly. "Flint, this is going a little too fast for me."
"Don't worry, I'll handle everything."
He spoke with a confident assurance that left Rani with almost nothing to say. She watched, bemused, as he deftly served up the eggs, added toast and brought the two plates over to the table. She wanted to argue or scold. She wanted to regain control of the relationship. She wanted to reassert her ownership of the kitchen if nothing else. But when she met his emerald-green gaze, Rani found herself meekly accepting the plate of eggs and toast.
"Thank you," she mumbled. It was those eyes of his that were her undoing. Perhaps she could have fought the bold way he was acting if it hadn't been for the deep hunger and the barely visible trace of uncertainty that flared briefly in the green depths of his gaze. He was acting as if he had every right in the world to take over her life, but underneath he knew he could do nothing unless she accepted him.
The fact that he was pushing his luck and knew it startled Rani. A part of her found the actions unexpectedly endearing. Another part of her found them incredibly attractive. She didn't know why she should find herself so thoroughly fascinated by a man who came nowhere near her inner image of the right kind of man for her, but Rani was forced to admit the truth. Flint was square in the middle of her small, mountain vacation world, and she could no more bring herself to kick him out than she could have evicted Zipp.
She had taken the sort of risk she had never planned to take. The deed was done, even if it did seem strangely unreal. She might as well commit herself to the excitement and the fantasy because she couldn't possibly terminate the reality.
"How are the eggs?" But Flint was asking another question as he sat down across from Rani, and both of them knew it.
Rani took a delicate bite of toast and egg. "They're very good," she whispered carefully.
"Just right?"
"Yes. Just right."
He grinned again, showing a flash of strong white teeth in an expression that some might have termed feral. Green eyes gleamed in satisfaction. "Good. I'm glad you're pleased."
Rani decided to make some attempt at directing the conversation at least. "What are your plans for the day?"
"The usual. I'll spend the morning on the article, do some work in the garden later on and then we can take the boat ride you mentioned yesterday."
She blinked. "Oh, yes. The rowboat trip. I'd forgotten about it."
"You promised me a picnic," he reminded her.
"Did I?"
"Uh-huh." He glanced down at the flat black metal watch on his wrist. "I'll probably be ready to go around one o'clock. I like tuna fish."
"I'll keep that in mind."
He didn't seem to notice the wry tone of her voice. Instead Flint went blithely on, talking about the weather, the section of the garden he planned to work in for a couple of hours that day and how he would continue to use the small cottage for his writing. By the time breakfast was finished, Rani felt as if she'd been caught up in a huge, gentle wave. There seemed no strong reason to fight it, so she stopped trying. When Flint got up from the table and leaned down to kiss her goodbye in a casually proprietary fashion, she obediently lifted her face for the caress.
"Don't forget the tuna fish sandwiches," he said as he slammed cheerfully through the kitchen door with Zipp trotting after him.
Rani sat for a long, thoughtful moment, staring at the closed door. Then, shaking her head over her own odd mood, she got up to clear the table.
"Are you ready? We'll take the Jeep down to the lake. No more hikes through the woods," Flint said as he came back through the kitchen door at twelve-thirty that afternoon. He had spent the last hour and a half in the garden, Rani knew, but he'd showered and changed his clothes. He glanced around until he spotted the bulging black-and-white-striped tote bag sitting on the table. "Is that lunch?"
She smiled. "That's it. You're in luck. I had some tuna fish."
He nodded, obviously pleased, and picked up the tote bag. "Then let's get going."
"You're awfully eager to start rowing."
"I'm eager to start eating, not rowing," he said. "I can't even remember the last time I went on a picnic." Flint glanced down at Zipp who was eyeing the tote bag with interest. "You're on your own, cat. We'll be back by sundown."
Zipp put on his most wistfully endearing expression, but Flint ignored him, taking Rani's arm instead and striding purposefully toward the front door.
"I thought we could stop at the post office on the way," Rani said, hurrying to keep up with Flint's long, eager stride.
"No problem."
He was in a very amiable frame of mind, Rani decided. It was probably the prospect of free home-cooked food. And possibly the prospect of more free homemade love tonight. Both of which she was providing. Rani reminded herself. She mentally shied away from the long-term ramifications of her decisions.
Mike Slater's nondescript compact was parked outside the Reed Lake Post Office when Flint wheeled the Jeep into a slot near the door. Rani glanced at the familiar vehicle and felt a small pang of anxiety.
"I'll be right back," she said quickly. It would be best if Flint stayed in the Jeep.
"That's okay. I'll come with you." He was already opening the Jeep's door.
Rani glanced again at the artist's car. "Uh, Mike's inside."
Flint lifted one heavy brow in a faint challenge. "So?"
"So I don't want any embarrassing remarks, Flint Cottrell, do I make myself clear?" It was the first time she had been anything resembling assertive all day. Flint eyed her with amused interest.
"I wouldn't think of making any embarrassing remarks. Stop worrying."
Rani shot him a warning glance and turned to push aside the glass door. Flint was right behind her. Both of them nearly collided with Mike who was ambling toward the door from the inside, absently sorting through some mail. He looked up, nodded politely toward Flint and then smiled easily at Rani. There was the faintest of questions in his eyes.
"Hi, Rani. Thought I might have missed you today. Got time for an iced tea over at the cafe?"
Flint spoke before Rani could answer. "No, she doesn't." He gave Rani a small push in the direction of the counter. "Better hustle, honey, I'm starving."
Rani dug in her heels and summoned up an apologetic smile for Mike. "Sorry, Mike. I really do have to hurry. I'm afraid I've made some plans for the afternoon."
"I see." Mike's mouth lifted with faint, good-natured acceptance of the situation. "Maybe some other time." He didn't look at Flint.
"She's going to be tied up for the rest of her stay here," Flint said coolly.
Mike kept his eyes on Rani's flushed features. "I get the picture."
"I'm sorry, Mike," Rani rushed to say, feeling warm and uncomfortable as she sensed Flint's quietly aggressive chal-lenge. "I'm definitely tied up today, but I'll probably see you tomorrow or the next day when I pick up my mail."
"Get moving, Rani." Flint's voice was soft, but there was a definite hint of laconic command buried in the tone.
Annoyed, she turned her head to meet his gaze. "We're not in that big a hurry, Flint."
"lam."
"I don't know why. We've got the rest of the afternoon ahead of us." But she stalked off toward the counter, common sense telling her it would be best to get Flint out of the post office. He was difficult to manage under the best of circumstances. Faced with what he perceived as a challenge from another man, he might prove downright impossible.
"Hello, Mrs. Hobson," she said brightly. "Anything for me today?"
Mrs. Hobson peered at her over the top of her tiny glasses. The polished stone necklace she wore today matched the bracelet on her wrist. Her blue eyes were alive with interest. Rani knew she hadn't missed the small scene in the lobby. "Not much. A couple of letters is all. How are you doing today, Rani?"
"just fine, thank you. And yourself, Mrs. Hobson?" Rani took the letters and briskly sorted through them. One was from a co-worker and the other from the neighbor who had volunteered to look after Rani's plants.
"Oh, not bad. John and I are getting ready for a trip to Arizona. Gonna take the motorhome down there and park it for a while in the sunshine. It's gonna get colder and colder in these mountains. Winter's not far off."
"That sounds lovely. More rock hunting?"
"You bet."
Rani grinned suddenly, glancing at the collection of polished stones in the case that sat near the counter. "What do you do with all the rocks you collect, Mrs. Hobson?"
"Keep the good stuff. Use the rest to decorate the front yard," Mrs. Hobson said with an amused shrug. "Nowadays I only bring back the best. When I first got started I brought home everything that took my eye. But you learn. When you've been collecting rocks as long as I have, you learn." But Mrs. Hobson had no intention of being sidetracked from her main interest at the moment. "Friend of yours?" She nodded toward Flint who was lounging against the high post office desk in the lobby. Mike Slater had disappeared.