Hummingbird Lake (18 page)

As she rushed back toward her bedroom, he watched the robe cling to her butt and called, “I’d be glad to come help.…”

She shot him a disdainful look over her shoulder and he grinned and added, “No rush, Cinnamon. Take your time.” When she disappeared into her bedroom, he picked up the remote and turned on the television to fill the quiet. Thumbing through the channels, he paused at a station out of Denver.

The local news was on. A reporter was covering a charity event taking place at the Brown Palace hotel, and she was interviewing someone familiar—Ali Timberlake. When she mentioned a new children’s program being established in Eternity Springs, Colt sauntered down the hallway toward Sage’s room, intending to knock on her door and tell her what was on the television.

But as he approached her room, he saw that the door to her studio stood halfway open. Every other time he’d been inside her home, she’d kept the door to this room shut. Curiosity got the better of him and he peeked inside.

The painting on the easel stopped him in his tracks.

It was the last thing he’d expect to see on Sage Anderson’s easel.

The canvas was large, maybe three feet square. She used shades of only two colors, red and black, and the images she’d fashioned had nothing to do with fairies or pixies or butterflies.

The images weren’t even images, but rather impressions, bold strokes and slashes and circles that were raw and harsh and violent. Haunted and haunting. He was reminded of Edvard Munch’s work
The Scream
. It was difficult to look at, but Colt found it impossible to
look away. The work was as powerful as anything he’d seen hanging in a museum.

He shifted to one side to gain a different perspective and spied a stack of paintings leaning against the wall. Curious, he flipped through them. More of the same. All red and black. All violent. All terrifying.

Colt exhaled a harsh breath and murmured, “Dear Lord.”

Was this what she saw when she shut her eyes? No wonder the woman didn’t sleep. She was haunted by something far deeper than he had imagined.

Colt knew without a doubt that she’d be angered by his snooping, and for the first time, he wondered if he truly wanted answers to his questions about Sage. Disturbed, he exited the studio and returned to the living room.

He sat in front of the television and stared at it without seeing. What sort of hell had she gone through?

He once again took stock of what he knew about her and realized that despite the time they’d spent together the last few days, he hadn’t learned all that much. Not about who she used to be, anyway. He’d discovered a lot about Sage Anderson of Eternity Springs, but for the most part, Dr. Sage Anderson still remained a mystery.

Maybe that was for the best. She obviously had her reasons for the actions she’d taken and for the privacy about those actions that she’d maintained. Maybe he should respect that. Maybe he should wait and let her come to him when she was ready.

On the other hand, given what he was considering, maybe he should redouble his efforts to discover what she was hiding.

What was best? How should he play this? She was beginning to trust him. If he pushed her, he might blow it. Maybe if he asked around the question, eventually he could get to the core.

Colt was still wrestling with the question when Sage came out of her bedroom looking like a million dollars in black slacks and a purple sweater. “Sorry to keep you waiting. I hate being late.”

“Not a problem,” he said, rising. He tried to regain his earlier, casual attitude. “You look great, Sage.”

“Thank you. I feel great.” Her smile was carefree, the look in her eyes warm. “You’ve been good for me, Rafferty. All the exercise has worked wonders. I’ll need to be sure to keep it up once you’re not around to make me do it.”

Colt considered taking the opening she’d inadvertently offered, then decided to keep it light for now. Instinct told him not to push. Besides, he really was hungry, and he didn’t want the conversation taking an appetite-spoiling turn. “I’ll call you and remind you to go throw snowballs at somebody.”

“You’re such a friend.”

“I am,” he responded, meaning it.

The Bristlecone was surprisingly busy for a winter evening, with only two available tables upon their arrival. Colt ordered the pork chops he’d been craving while she selected chicken, and the dinner conversation revolved around normal date topics such as favorite movies and books. They were halfway through their meal when the front door opened and Nic and Gabe Callahan walked in.

“Oh, dear,” Sage murmured.

Colt watched as, upon spying Sage, Nic hesitated. Gabe touched her on the shoulder and said something, then Nic nodded and veered toward their table. Sage wiped her lips with her napkin, then squared her shoulders. “Hello, Nic.”

“Hello.” Nic nodded at Colt, who stood and gave her a friendly kiss on the cheek. As he and Gabe shook
hands, Nic continued, “I’m glad to see you out and about, Sage.”

Colt wondered if anyone else noticed that his dinner date subtly relaxed. “I’m feeling better.”

“Good.”

“Would you two like to join us?” Colt offered, gesturing toward their table, which could easily accommodate four.

Gabe placed his hand at Nic’s back and said, “Thanks, but my bride and I are out on a date. Nic’s mom and aunt are visiting for a few days and they’re babysitting.”

“That’s nice.” Sage drew a deep breath, then met Nic’s gaze. “I’d like to babysit for you sometime, Nic.”

Nic’s eyes widened in surprise. “Really?”

“Yes.” Sage’s smile turned a little wobbly as she added, “Although probably the first time out I should try it one baby at a time. Or maybe ask Sarah or Celeste to team up with me to watch them both.”

Colt was surprised to see tears pool in Nic’s eyes as she responded, “We could try that. Thanks.”

“Good.” Sage cleared her throat. “I’ll look forward to it.”

Colt thought he spied a sheen in Sage’s eyes, too. He waited until the Callahans took their seats at a table across the room to ask, “Want to tell me what just happened here?”

Sage picked up her fork and pushed a green bean around on her plate. “Nic gave me a chance to apologize for a hurt I caused her, I did so, and she accepted it.”

Colt frowned, then topped off her wineglass and his. “Women are the most fascinating creatures. So are the two of you okay?”

“Well …” Sage glanced across the restaurant toward the table where the Callahans sat. “We’re better. It’s complicated.”

“Men would throw a punch or two and the trouble would be over.”

“Women are more civilized,” she said, shrugging. Then after a moment’s hesitation, she added, “But they carry grudges longer. Sarah might like to go the punch-throwing route.”

“You had a dust-up with her, too?”

“Like I said, it’s complicated. Are we going to order dessert?”

He might be a man, but he was smart enough to recognize that she’d changed the subject. “Absolutely. What do you suggest?”

As they rose to leave after dinner, they waved to the Callahans and walked out into the cold. “So, are we still on to watch a video?”

“I’m counting on it.”

“Thinking about Gerard Butler, huh?”

“Maybe.”

She smiled a cat-and-cream smile that sparked heat in his belly—a good thing, since it was cold enough outside to turn his balls blue beneath three layers of clothes. “All right, but since the temperature is hovering somewhere around ten degrees, why don’t we drive to the video store rather than walk?”

“No need to do either,” Sage said as he helped her into her coat. “I have a DVD at home for us to watch.”

“Oh?” Great. He’d hoped to influence the choice. “Let me guess—it’s
P.S. I Love You
?”

A wicked smile flirted at her lips. “You’ll see.”

The ride back to Hummingbird Lake was made primarily in a comfortable silence. Under other circumstances, Colt’s thoughts would have been centered on seduction, but tonight his mind kept returning to the paintings he’d seen in Sage’s studio. He couldn’t decide if he should ask her about them or not.

He was an old-timer here in Eternity Springs. He didn’t have much time to ferret out her secrets—if ferreting was what he wanted to do. He wasn’t so sure anymore.

At some point during the past week—maybe when they played hockey or when she lit up like a schoolgirl over the Slinky—Sage had become more than a puzzle for him to solve. She was no longer a beautiful woman who intrigued him, or fun company on days when solitude held no allure. She was more than a woman he wanted—rather badly—to sleep with. Sage Anderson meant more to him than that. She’d become important to him. He cared for her.

Which made his hesitation all the more confusing. Since he cared for her, shouldn’t he want to know everything about her? Shouldn’t discovering her secrets be of even greater concern to him now than when curiosity alone guided him?

This indecision wasn’t like him at all. Seeing those paintings had truly thrown him off his game.

So ask her. Be blunt. Be direct. You’d better get the details before you go back to Washington and burn bridges
.

He sucked in a breath, then blew it out harshly. He would ask her. He’d pick his time and bring up the paintings and see what he could glean from her response.

“Something wrong?” she asked.

“No. Not at all.” Having reached the turnoff to Reflection Point, he glanced to his right, where Sage sat in shadow, and added, “Today has been a nice day.”

“Yes, it has. It truly has.” She turned her head, and he could just make out her smile. “I’m glad you asked to borrow that cup of sugar, Rafferty.”

“Yeah?” He arched a brow. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t believe you came across with any sugar.”

“Well, play your cards right, G-man, and you might be surprised what you can beg from the neighbors.”

In the process of turning into his drive, he almost turned into a snowbank at that. He shot her a look and wished for more light to see her better. Had she meant that to sound suggestive? With this woman, he simply couldn’t tell.

He pulled the SUV to a stop and hit the remote to open the garage door, then glanced at her as soon as the automatic light pierced the darkness. She wore an enigmatic smile that told him nothing.

Once the car was parked, he walked around to open her door. “Be careful where you step. I found a leak out here earlier. There’s some ice on the ground.”

“Thanks for the warning.” She took hold of his hand and didn’t let go. His pulse jumped and he stifled a self-mocking snort. Good Lord, she had him revving like a seventeen-year-old again.

Inside, he gestured toward the great room. “Do you want to start the movie now or—”

“Now is good. Here.” Holding his gaze, she reached into her purse, pulled out the DVD, and handed it over.

Colt glanced down at the box and frowned in confusion as he read the title aloud. “
Raising Cane
. The story of sugarcane production in nineteenth-century Texas?”

“It’s a documentary about raising sugarcane. I’ve watched it before. It’s very boring.”

“O—kay.” He looked at the blank screen on the television, then back at her. “I don’t like my dates to be bored.”

“Oh?”

There came that damned smile again, and Colt was suddenly reminded of the look in her eyes when she’d thrown that last snowball at him. He’d had it all wrong. Forget the nickname Cinnamon—he should call her
Vixen. She’d been leading him down the pine forest path all along, and he’d been too dense to recognize it.

Well, the blinders were off now.

“No. Boredom won’t do.” He reached out with his index finger to trace the V of her neckline, where her skin was as soft as the cashmere that caressed it. “Gonna let me entertain you?”

“What do you have in mind?”

“I thought we’d start with that dip in the hot tub.”

“I didn’t bring my swimsuit.”

“That’s handy.” He skimmed his hand down her torso, grabbed the hem of her sweater, and whipped it up over her head. “You’re not gonna need it.”

ELEVEN

Sage had never had hot tub sex before, so it was possible that what took place over the course of the next forty minutes wasn’t unique in the history of hot tubs. However, it was definitely unique in the history of her world.

The man was a fantasy come to life. He did magical things with his hands, marvelous things with his mouth, and his penis … well, if a Hall of Fame for penises existed, surely he’d qualify for membership.

And she’d reached those conclusions prior to abandoning the hot tub for his bed. By the time he was finished with her, Sage didn’t worry about nightmares. She didn’t have the energy to complete a thought, much less to dream.

She lay spent, panting, and oh so satisfied as the clock ticked past midnight and a new day began. Colt groaned, lifted his head from the pillow, and said, “You are sleeping here tonight, right?”

Sage managed, barely, to roll her head in his direction. “That’s some invitation.”

“Nah, it’s a warning. I couldn’t be a gentleman and walk you to your door because even if I managed to get you there, no way I could get back home without collapsing in a snowdrift and freezing to death.”