Haze of Heat (4 page)

Rachel whipped her head from Melinda to Rome. “Oh. But if he did, that means he knows where I am.”

A tight, cruel smile curved Rome’s lips. “Let him come. The Felix men will be more than ready to take on one cowardly weasel.”

Melinda only smirked. “Told you. Damsels in distress are us. Now, are you hungry? Dinner won’t be for a couple of hours, but if you’re feeling peaked, we have plenty of snacks available to tide you over.”

Chapter Four

After handing her car keys to Rome—and leaving her purse behind—Rachel trailed after Melinda as the other woman gave her a brief tour of the B&B. Now that she had reached her destination, and been granted the sanctuary she’d been searching more than a week for, her body began to shut down. She viewed the library, parlor, rec room, pool house, and other amenities through a fog.

Melinda guided her through a huge dining room, pointing out the stocked fridge and snacks available for guest use, and into a kitchen that could have been ripped from some modern chef magazine. With Maddie happily jabbering away in a playpen next to a huge, scarred wood table, the room went from cool and professional to warm and inviting.

Brown and black granite slab countertops ran down two walls, broken only by a wide stainless steel sink. At the far end of the counter was a column of wall ovens while at the other end, to Rachel’s immediate left, Katie stood in front of a big, upright, stainless steel freezer, pulling out several packages of bacon.

“For breakfast,” the redhead explained and placed the meat on the bottom shelf of the adjacent and matching large double-door refrigerator.

An older woman with a head full of gray hair was at the center island, also stainless steel, boasting a six-burner gas range, grill, and another two feet of counter space.

“You would be Rachel. I’m Annie,” the woman stated before Melinda could make introductions, all the while deftly wrapping a mouth-watering sandwich teeming with turkey, cheese, tomato, and lettuce. “And from the look of you, you’re about ready to drop from fatigue.”

“Annie.” Melinda shook her head. “A warning, Rachel. Annie speaks her mind and there’s nothing anyone can say or do to stop her.”

Annie laughed, the sound practically a cackle. “I only call them as I see them. And this one,” she nodded at Rachel “is asleep on her feet.” She put the sandwich into a wicker basket, next to a bag of chips, a banana, an orange, a bottle of water, and two cookies the size of Rachel’s hand.

Rachel forced her eyes from the sandwich to Annie’s unflinching, clear eyes. “I am a bit tired.”

“Hungry too, I imagine. Coke, Sprite, or Dr. Pepper? You don’t do that diet crap, do you?”

Rachel blinked. “Uh. No. No diet. Dr. Pepper works for me.”

“Good. That fake stuff will kill you.”

Katie popped two sodas into the basket along with a small tub of ice. “Glasses are in the room.”

“Okay.” Stunned, Rachel accepted the basket.

Melinda ran a soothing hand down Rachel’s back. “We figured you might not make it to dinner, but you’re more than welcome to join us at six thirty. No guests tonight or tomorrow so it won’t be a full house.”

Why did that not seem likely? Rachel considered and mentally totaled the people she’d met or knew of and the smallest number she came up with was seven, and that was adding the one who placed the wedding ring on Rome’s finger.

Seven people plus a baby wasn’t a full house?

Rachel cuddled the basket to her chest. “I appreciate it. Thank you.”

“Welcome.” Annie bustled over to the sink and washed her hands. “You’ll get the rest you need here.”

“I’ll show you to your room.” Melinda’s touch on Rachel’s back firmed and she steered her out of the kitchen. “Breakfast is between seven and nine. Buffet style, same as dinner, which is at six thirty.”

It wasn’t until they started climbing the wide, elegant stairs that Rachel halted. “Oh. My bags. My purse.”

“Are already in your room.” Melinda continued up without pause. “You don’t have any food allergies, do you?”

“What?” Rachel tore her gaze from the reception area and scurried after Melinda. “Oh. No. But I don’t like salmon and detest olives of any kind.”

Melinda came to a sudden stop at the top of the stairs. “You don’t like olives?”

Rachel might as well have said she didn’t like chocolate from Melinda’s incredulous tone. “No. Never have.” Too late she remembered the Orchards grew olive trees as well as avocado and, of course the main produce, oranges. “But I like oranges. And love anything with avocados.”

Melinda smiled gently at the rushed words. “It’s okay, Rachel. I’m not offended. Personally I’m not fond of avocados but adore guacamole.” She turned and headed down the hall, leaving Rachel to sigh with relief. “Our guac is fabulous. We sell it in the local grocery store and often have people drive from all over to purchase jars if the stores are low or out of stock.”

Melinda opened a door second from the end on the left side of the hall and stepped back. “This will be your room. We have free wireless connection if you brought a computer. However, we do block any viewing or downloading from any sites we feel are inappropriate. Basically, no porn or pirating.”

Rachel could understand that. Walking past Melinda and into the room, she looked around the suite that would be her home for who knew how long. It was bigger and homier than what she’d thought.

At the far wall under a window was a tan leather sofa, separated from its matching overstuffed chair by a corner side table topped with a gold and brown lamp. A coffee table, also wood, held several magazines and a remote control caddy. An entertainment center rested against the wall adjacent to an open door in which Rachel could make out a bed. To her right was a round table with four chairs directly in front of a counter containing a coffee machine, another caddy filled with coffee packets, sugars and creamers, mugs, and a sink. A mini-fridge rested under the counter next to a set of cabinets.

Her luggage was, indeed, already in the room, just outside the bedroom door. Her car keys and purse were on the table.

Rachel looked up at Melinda with wide eyes. “I haven’t paid for anything yet.”

Melinda waved that away. “We’ll settle things up later. I’m not worried.” She grinned. “I know where you’re sleeping.”

She handed Rachel the key card. “These are kept locked in my office. No one will enter this room without your permission. We don’t change the bedding or clean until our guests depart or there’s a specific need such as spills or whatnot. Towels are in the bath. If or when you require replacements, just dial zero on the phone.” Melinda nodded to a box set in the wall by the front door. “It’s a relatively new addition to the rooms and only works internally. A cross between a phone and intercom system. If you need to make a call and don’t have a cell phone, or need anything, just let Annie, Katie, or myself know.”

Melinda stepped close and touched gentle fingers to Rachel’s cheek. “We don’t scare easily. You’re safe here. Try to get some sleep.”

The back of Rachel’s eyes burned, and she wasn’t one to cry at the drop of a hat. The easy acceptance and reassurance combined with days of worry and fear mixed and tumbled together until she was a moody mess. She blinked several times in rapid succession. “Thank you, Melinda.”

With a final nod, Melinda slipped out the door and left Rachel alone.

Setting the basket and key card on the table next to her purse, Rachel unwrapped the sandwich and ate it as she scoped out the rest of her temporary digs. A quilt in soft shades of blue, green, and white graced the queen-sized bed. A light-colored wood dresser, nightstand, and padded bench at the foot of the bed were the only other furnishings. She opened the long closet on the wall between the bath and bedroom and found several hangers along with a folded blanket.

She peeked in the bathroom. Shower, sink, toilet. Simple, nice, and clean.

A sliding glass door on the wall across from the bed led her out onto a balcony that ran the whole length of the suite. Weather-resistant chairs and a small table looked out over the backyard.

And what a yard it was. An intricate and vibrant garden took up a huge chunk, full of hedges, roses, and other plants that bloomed healthy and whole in the afternoon sun. Walkways throughout the garden invited one out for a stroll, while the covered swing and benches dotting those pathways gave the perfect opportunity to rest and simply breathe deep of the delightful scents wafting on the gentle breeze. Two separate lattice gazebos, on either side of the garden, spanned the walkway and were overrun with blooming wisteria that rose high in the air and swayed in the breeze. It was so magical, Rachel could almost see little sprites dancing merrily on the delicate purple flowers, releasing its sweet fragrance for all to enjoy.

To the right of the garden was a deep, lush lawn of grass that curved the exterior section of the indoor-outdoor pool and continued around the right side of the house.

A tired sigh of longing escaped her. She’d love to run out over that grass barefoot, letting the tiny blades massage and tickle her toes. Maybe she would sneak out one night and do so.

Then she remembered the cameras.

Maybe not.

Past the gardens she could see the rows and rows of trees that were the namesake of the estate. The orchards seemed to go on forever, brimming with vitality.

Taking her first bite of one of the cookies, Rachel moaned and her eyes fluttered with pleasure as the taste exploded on her tongue. Oatmeal with cranberries and oh, so heavenly. She savored a moment before taking another bite, making a mental note to tell Annie she was a culinary goddess.

Swinging her head around to the left, she could make out part of a two-story house she’d spotted from the front, several metal buildings, and the barn.

It was the last that brought Porter to mind. Barn. Horse. Porter.

Porter
, her cat purred.

Rachel rolled her eyes.
Oh, come on. He’s just a guy. A very hot guy to be sure, but still a guy.

If a feline could flounce, hers did.

“Fine. Go ahead and sulk,” Rachel muttered out loud.

Movement from below and off to her left caught her eye. A male figure came into view, his confident stride fluid, his steps unerring.

It didn’t take but a second to realize it was Porter. Her heart skipped a beat and then began to race.

Great
, Rachel thought with a frown, annoyed at her physical reaction to the man, especially as her nipples pebbled under her bra.
You’ve conjured him.

Her cat seemed to smirk.
You’ll see soon enough.

A comment which only caused Rachel’s frown to deepen into a scowl. Abruptly, Porter stopped in his tracks and turned around, his gaze seeking her out. A wide grin split his face. “Hey.”

He walked over to stand under her balcony, legs spread for balance, hands on his hips, head tipped back. The position put the strong cords of his neck in sharp relief and for a moment, Rachel couldn’t look away. She had the sudden urge to run her tongue along his throat, taking small nips of his skin as she licked the salt from his body.

“Hey, yourself.” Was her voice on the husky side? She cleared it.

“That one of Annie’s?”

Rachel followed his gaze to the remainder of the cookie in her hand. “It is. Oatmeal cranberry.”

The appreciative sound deep in his throat made Rachel shiver from her ears to the tips of her toes. “I’m starving. How about a bite?”

His eyes were no longer on the cookie, but on her mouth. Another shiver threatened to send arousal into a level that would be hard for a shifter to miss.

Talk about embarrassing.

“Didn’t your mom ever tell you that you couldn’t have dessert until you finished dinner?”

His eyes darkened and flicked slowly over her as she leaned on the railing. “Dessert’s the best part.”

Heat rushed into places it had no business rushing. This was beyond ridiculous. Porter was just a guy!

“Yes, it is,” she agreed, right before stuffing the rest of the cookie in her mouth.

Porter laid his hands over his heart, giving her a long-suffering expression. “You wound me, my lady.”

“Somehow I doubt that,” she said around a mouthful of oatmeal.

“Since you’ve deprived me of nourishment, the least you could do is let down your hair so I may climb up and gain sustenance by drinking in your beauty.”

Rachel felt her lips tug at the corners, charmed despite the corny come-on. But she found she rather enjoyed being on the receiving end of such obvious male attention. The men she usually attracted tended to be of the more cerebral type, like the engineer, accountant, or the astronomy professor she’d dated. Quiet men who thought more about the inner workings of inanimate objects, money, or the stars than they did Rachel.

So she took in the blatant, over-the-top flattery and let her heart secretly sigh, even as she quirked one brow in reproach. “You are so odd. Does that really work?”

Unrepentant, Porter winked. “Invite me up and we’ll find out.”

She couldn’t help herself. She laughed. “You’re a scamp, Porter Felix. And the answer is no. Absolutely not.”

Before he could lobby another volley, Rachel heard the oddest sound. “What is that?” She leaned further over the railing as music drifted up.

“I’ll kill her,” Porter mumbled, his cheeks flushing a lovely shade of red.

Rachel’s eyes widened. “Sounds like that song from Right Said Fred.” She grinned as Porter reached for his phone. “’I’m Too Sexy’ is your ringtone? Seriously?”

“Gwen thinks she’s funny.” He shut off the song and slipped the phone back into his pocket.

“You’re not going to answer it?” And who was Gwen?

“Why?”

Rachel straightened. “Well, it could be important.”

His shoulders lifted in a shrug. “Then they can leave a message. Besides, I’m talking to the only person I want to right now.”

Damn, he was good at the flattery thing. “I’m not sleeping with you.” Oh. My. God. Did that just come out of her mouth?

At least she had the satisfaction of seeing Porter appear stunned. Again. It was such a nice look on him. Of course it was also only a momentary one. A wicked light she could see all the way from her second-story perch ignited in his eyes. “No?”

Her hands tightened on the railing. “No. Not that you asked or anything, but I thought to let you know upfront.”

“So noted.” That sensual mouth of his curved into a naughty smile, unleashing tingles that spread throughout her body. “And since you’ve told me what’s not available, you should have no reservations coming to the barn tomorrow.”

Sneaky. To say she wasn’t tempted would be a lie. But she didn’t know how long her stay would be and didn’t need it complicated by Porter’s amorous advances. Knowing well how Murphy’s Law worked, Rachel would let the naughty part of her talk herself into sleeping with Porter, and then she’d be stuck at the Orchards for a month, all the while watching him flirt and snuggle with every available female that showed up. It would be beyond humiliating. No. The best thing for her was to keep the sexy shifter at a distance.

And didn’t that just bite? “You still want to teach me to ride a horse?”

“Sure.” Any sign of interest was gone from his expression and replaced by the same generically friendly smile she might receive from a salesclerk. “Then you’ll see you have nothing to fear from them.”

“Porter Nicoli Felix!” Melinda’s disembodied voice called out from somewhere under Rachel’s feet. “Stop flirting with Rachel and let her get some rest.”

Porter’s lips twitched, but he kept his attention on Rachel. “Come on by anytime, Rachel. Oh. And you do own a pair of jeans, right?”

“Shoo.” Melinda ordered her son, the woman still unseen. “Go on now. Tomorrow’s another day.”

“If you don’t have any boots, wear sneakers.” The end of a yellow broom appeared under the balcony edge and jabbed at Porter. He laughed and danced out of reach. “As cute as your toes are, sandals aren’t appropriate footwear for horseback riding.” Then he took off at a brisk pace, still chuckling and leaving Rachel to goggle as Melinda came into view.