Strung (6 page)

He moulds a hand over the top of my foot, holding it in place, while the knuckles of his other hand, poise to press into the bottom of my foot.  Instinctively I tense my foot, wincing as pain shoots through the tendons.  His hand freezes before his knuckles make contact.

"Acacia, relax your foot.  This will only hurt if you're tense."

"I'm ticklish."  I mumble in embarrassment.

"Are you now?"  His mouth turns up at the corners and his eyes glint dangerously.  "Ticklish is a delightful and very useful trait in a woman."  I frown at him for joking at my expense and his face softens.

"Trust me Acacia.  Relax!  To let it heal you need to rest the muscle, but increasing the circulation will allow it heal faster."

I try to do as I am told and his knuckles start to press into my foot.  It doesn't tickle.  I'm surprised.  It also doesn't hurt.  In fact, it feels good. 
Too good
.  As his hands work their magic kneading and pressing, I gaze at the light glinting off his thick shiny hair.  It is so dark, it's almost black and the wayward waves swirl around a double crown on the apex of his head.  He has pulled on a fitted black shirt with long sleeves and a low V-neck, the colour making him look enticingly dangerous.  I can see the muscles in the tops of his shoulders, move and ripple under the fitted fabric of his shirt, as his fingers and hands dance around my foot.  He must be very fit working outdoors, up here in the mountain, I muse. 

I frown, wondering why his, neatly manicured fingers seem out of place, but they find a spot on the ball of my foot which is pure heaven and I melt into the sensations, closing my eyes. 

"Acacia?" his low voice breaks the spell.  "Where you ran out of fuel; that's a private road to Donavan's Pass.  It's closed at this time of year.  Were you lost?"

"I had been earlier, that's why I ran out of fuel but yes, I was heading for Donavan's Pass.  How close was I?"  I stifle a groan as he works on a knot
caused by the high heels.

"You would have made if you had stuck to the road.  You were about half a mile away."

"The snow was falling too thick and fast.  I couldn't see and lost the road."  This time a groan escapes my throat and I curse myself as my back arches slightly on its own accord.  I cringe in embarrassment when I hear his sharp intact of breath. 
Shit he's noticed.
  Thankfully, he keeps his head down and his fingers keep up their excellent work.

"So your meeting was at Donavan's Pass." 
It is more of a statement than a question but I nod anyway.

"You know the Donavan's then?
”  I ask

"Quite well in fact." 
I am frustrated that I can't see his face properly and his voice isn't giving much away.  "You work with a charity?" he asks.  He doesn’t really sound all that interested so I gather he is just making conversation, although I briefly wonder where the assumption that I worked with a charity came from - perhaps the Donavan’s work with lots of charities.

"Yes.  Yes I do." 
Oh, this feels good
. 

"I think you'll find the Donavan place perfect for whatever you have in mind, but may I sugge
st a more practical wardrobe?"  His eyes crease with amusement at the corners and I can’t resist.

"Why Sir!  I thought my designer 'boyfriend' sweats were the recommended latest in
professional work wear."  I giggle, surprising myself at my unusual display of flippancy.  "Actually," I sober, “I probably won't get a second chance after missing the meeting yesterday."

He lifts his gaze to meet mine, smiling that sunshine smile, and desire pools like liquid gold, deep down inside.  "I'm glad you're feeling a little perkier. 
I am sure another meeting can still be arranged.  I'll drive you over in about half an hour."  He lifts my foot, and puts it gently on the table.

"But if my V.W. will be here soon, I can drive myself over.  Besides, Savannah was adamant that I wasn't to be late so I'm not sure there is much point in going now."

He gazes down at me, annoyance plain as day on his face.  "Acacia, do you honestly think you'll be able to press the clutch in that tank you drive?"

My heart sinks. 
He is right. 
Oh, shit!  How do I get back to Tacoma?

"And as for Savannah,
I will take care of her,” Chayton states with confidence.

~.~

Roughly forty-five minutes later we pull up to the back of a large complex of buildings, the largest of which is a huge, timber and glass house, set firmly in the middle, facing the mountain.  An odd direction to face a home but everything feels a little odd this week. 

"Ready?" asks Chayton.

He leans against his door casually, watching me as I look up at the large two-story building.  Walls of wood framed glass reflect the forest and set off at odd angles, topped with thick gold timber.  While modern, the house sits sympathetically in its surroundings.  I wonder what this says about its occupants.

"I'm not sure I am.  The Donavan's, sound like difficult people and I
am
almost a day late."

Chayton gazes at me for a moment longer, his face unreadable, and doesn't comment.  He climbs out the Jeep and I feel the sudden rush of cold air through the open door.  Striding around he opens my door and I steel myself to be lifted and carried to the door. 

Great!
  I arrive for a meeting a day late, carried in the arms of a hillbilly mountain-man – albeit a sexy one – barefoot and dressed in borrowed men's clothing. 
Here is one for the grandkids you will never have!

Even through the nerves, I feel a rush of excitement, uninvited, as he lifts me.  Without knocking he pushes a door to the big building open and sets me down inside. 
He must know the Donavan's very well. We are in the kitchen and I take in the modern decor.  The decorator has kept true to the natural forest feel of the place, and has found that compromise between cosy and minimalistic, without losing functionality.  Past the kitchen, I can see a large dining room, matching the kitchen perfectly and I can immediately feel and hear the homely babble of large family dinners around the large polished wood table.  Chayton guides me through an arch and I find myself standing on top of three stairs, looking down into a large, breathtaking open space. 

The elongated, hexagonal living
room has enough furniture for two families and plush sofas are separated into two groups at either end of the room.  The focus of each set of chairs is a large stone fireplace.  It is the first time I have seen a living room large enough to warrant a fire at each end of the room and both fires are crackling happily.  My original impression that the building is double storied was wrong, although there is more than enough height to the vaulted ceiling to add a mezzanine floor. 

I try to step down the first step but
it is just too much and the lancing pain makes me grab onto both Chayton's forearm with both hands.  He swiftly lifts me and carries me to a soft brown leather sofa in front of the nearest fire. 

"Thank you.  I'm starting to wear those words a little thin!"  I mumble
self-consciously.

"It's my pleasure.  Can I get you something to drink?  I happen to know the kitchen and bar are both fully stocked here." 
Gosh, he really is at home here!  My nerves shoot up a notch.

"I'll have some coffee please, but only if you're sure the Donavan's won't mind."

"I can almost guarantee it.  They are good people, really!  Well...mostly!"  He corrects, a wry smile spreading across his face.  "I'll go and get your coffee then.  Try and get comfortable."

Chayton returns quicker than expected and hands me a steaming cup of glorious smelling coffee. 

"Thank you.  Again."

"Acacia, you really should relax.  I have to go.  I believe Savannah will be along shortly.
”  I offer a brief, uncertain nod.  "You'll be fine.  Just be gentle with her okay?" he ends, striding out the room.

Nervously, I tap my fingernails against my coffee cup.  I feel trapped, overwhelmed and confused and so very, very out of control.  I have suddenly become
very reliant on this strange, beautiful man and a woman with a nasty bite, who I am supposed to be gentle with. 

I push myself upright, leave my cup on the coffee table and hobble across the vast room to a large glass wall, using furniture to steady myself along the way.
  The staggering vista before me makes me gasp.  Like a fairytale glade in an enchanted forest, a copse of tall trees I don't recognise, their high branches spread out like umbrellas, cast magical shadows on the gleaming snow covered floor of the circular front yard.  The trees form an encompassing barrier around the substantial open space, holding the natural forest at bay.  At the farthest end the glade, the natural barrier opens up to provide an unhindered view of a partially frozen waterfall, towering above a dark pond. 

This is why the house was built facing this way.  I can easily imagine this space through all four seasons.  In a few
weeks, the waterfall will melt completely and young fern leaves will begin to unfurl.  Small spring bulbs will poke their buds through the last of the snow and frost bringing the first colour to the crisp white landscape.  As summer draws on, the canopy of the trees will thicken and mosses, grass and ferns will cover every surface possible; framing the bubbling surface of the pond and the white veil of the water dropping from high.  Finally, in the autumn the sharpness of the evergreens and the mosses will be contrasted against the fall of burnt red, orange and yellow leaves creating a carpet of glorious colour before welcoming the first cover of snow. 

It's breath taking.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"  I jump at the soft feminine voice and spin to I face the young woman standing stiffly in the middle of the room. She is dressed in black leggings and a long, flowing, caftan styled blouse that reaches to mid-thigh.  A pair of stylish but comfortable flats adorns her feet and her long black hair is swept up in a pony.  She wears no jewellery and there is no makeup on her flawless pale skin, as far as I can tell.  She certainly does not need makeup.

"Savannah."  She holds out a hand and I notice the movement does not extend to the rest of her body.  Awkwardly I hobble forward.  Her hand is cool and her grip soft. 

"You've injured yourself!"  She frowns at me.  It is an uncomfortable look on her beautiful face.  "Please have a seat."  She walks stiffly to a straight-backed chair and I notice the outline of a severe looking back brace showing through the fabric of her blouse. 
The Donavan sister!

I settle, stiffly, into the nearest sofa
.  Savannah gazes at me thoughtfully a small smile hinted on her lips and I offer her a tiny smile in response.

"Acacia.  Did I pronounce that right?"  I nod.  "Are you always this quiet?"
  I blush furiously; something else I have been doing a lot of recently. 

"Sorry, it has been a surreal twenty four hours.  No, I'm not usually this quiet, or apologetic or flustered." 

"Mmm.  I can see how spending a night with Chayton in the cabin can do that to a girl."  I hear the mirth in her voice glance up.  Her face has split in two, in a broad friendly smile and her eyes are twinkling with merriment.  I slump with relief and join her in laughter.  I like her.

"I'm sorry that you nearly spent the night in the forest.  Chayton has explained what happened, although he didn't mention that you were injured in the process," she frowns slightly.  "You can still look around if you want, though I'd understand if you're no longer interested."  Her eyes look pained and apologetic and I suddenly feel sorry for her.

"Um, it's not your fault, I should have been better prepared, it was very irresponsible of me.  I am grateful for the opportunity, but I don't want you to offer it to me out of pity."

She looks at me incredulously.  "Don't be silly!  Actually when I first got the message that someone would be coming out, I assumed it was another reporter.  We are a very private family and they are very good at resorting to cheap tricks."

Don't I know it!
 

"Oh Acacia, I'm sorry if I was rude on the phone.  Reporters and pain, make me rude and grumpy,
” she pouts apologetically and points her thumb over her shoulder at her back.  "We would love to put the place to more use!  Besides," she adds quietly, "I do at least owe you a change of clothes.  No offence, but the only person who looks hot in Chayton's clothes is Chayton," she grins.  "We're about the same size.  The doctor will be here soon.  As soon as he's looked at your injury we'll see what we can find you."

I am
monumentally confused.  She called a doctor?  For a sprained ankle?  She must notice my confusion.

"My doctor is due here soon to review my pain medication.  He can look at you at
the same time.  He won't mind!"  I am burning to ask about her back brace but hold my tongue.  She doesn't volunteer the information.  Savannah grills me on the charity and what we do and it is nearly an hour later when the sound of footsteps interrupts us.

"Here he is!"  She says cheerfully, smiling at the handsome man who walks down the stairs from the kitchen.  The neatly groomed,
blonde doctor stops in front of Savannah's chair and takes her hand, kissing her knuckles gallantly.