The Lure of Love (5 page)

Too late
for that; you’re already interested, and you know it.

She tried to
ignore the voice in her head, but it was difficult. Especially since the voice
was right.

“Matt Weber.
The real estate guy who won the trip.” He shot her a sideways look. “Surely you
must have noticed him. He looks like he should be modeling in GQ.” He pulled
open the door to the lodge and they walked in together.

“Oh, him.
Yes, I noticed him but I was thinking about his run-in with the grizzly.”

Billy
chuckled. “He told me about that. Feels like an idiot.” He looked around. “See?
We have the place to ourselves. Is it okay if I help myself to a brandy? How
about you?”

Brooke rarely
drank, but the idea was too tempting to pass up. “A small one, please.”

Billy
returned moments later with two glasses. “I left a note with my signature and room
number.” He passed her a glass. “I wouldn’t want to take advantage.”

She smiled
and looked up at him. “Don’t worry, I’ll charge you.”

He settled
down and lifted his glass to her. “Not only beautiful, but smart.”

Something
must have showed on her face because he looked away, suddenly uncomfortable. She
waited for him to speak.

“That wasn’t
just a line, Brooke.” He took a small sip of brandy then placed the glass on
the table between them. “You are obviously beautiful and I think you’re smart
as well.” He looked into the fire which had died down, leaving glowing embers
crackling softly in the grate. “That’s the trouble when your reputation
precedes you. Nobody believes it when you’re sincere.” He turned back to her. “Especially
when you have a nickname like Slick Billy.”

She gasped,
surprised that he’d brought it up.

He nodded.
“Thing is, I used to deserve it.”

She watched
the play of emotions on his face. “You’re saying you don’t deserve it anymore.”
She made it a statement.

He took
another sip of brandy. “Okay, this is where I tell you mine.” He swirled the
liquid around as he stared into the glass.

“I was what
my teammates called a player. I never went out with one woman for very long. It
got to be a habit after a while. And then last fall, shortly after I went back home
after my holiday here, the last girl I’d been going out with tried to commit
suicide. Her roommate found a note that basically said it was my fault.”

“I don’t see
how that can be true.”

A small smile
toyed with the side of his mouth but didn’t make it to his eyes. “Thank you for
saying that, but other people didn’t agree with you. I did a lot of soul
searching after that.” He looked up. “Did I actually just say ‘soul
searching’?”

She nodded
and gave him an understanding smile.

“I went to a
shrink. That was something I never thought I’d do, but I did.”

“Did it
help?”

“Yes, surprisingly.”
He looked at her with eyes that were blue-grey; the colour of the lake on a
cloudy day. “And I began to understand how our experiences growing up can shape
us when we get older.” He paused. “Similar to what happened to you, I suppose.”

“What
happened?” She took a drink, holding his gaze.

“My dad left
us when I was small. We’d been a middle class family. I don’t recall ever going
without anything, but my mother always wanted more. She was one of those women
who had to have a man around. The female equivalent of your father, I suppose. Anyway,
she went from one man to the next to the next, always looking for one that was
better than the last, one who could give her more of whatever it was she was
seeking.” His voice lowered until it was little more than a whisper. “She had
very little time for me and I never did find out what it was like to be part of
a loving family. I always thought my father would come back. I waited for years
before I realized that wasn’t going to happen.” He drained the brandy from his
glass. “I have a few faint memories of going fishing with him, but I can’t say
that I remember him. My shrink says that’s why I keep coming back here. I’m
looking for what I had with my father. What really gets me is that he died
shortly after he left us and I didn’t even know until a few years ago when I
tried to find him.”

He looked embarrassed.
“I didn’t mean to go all emotional on you but the bottom line is, I’m not that
man any more, Brooke. I’m not Slick Billy.”

His gaze went
to her mouth and lingered there for several long moments. “I’d like to prove it
to you, if you’ll let me.”

Her pulse
started to beat a little faster and she realized that she’d enjoy having him
prove it. She opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted when Larry the
night watchman came in the back way. He looked from Brooke to Billy, then back
to Brooke. “Sorry for the interruption.” He picked up the log book from the
reception desk and made a note. “Another quiet night out there.”

He closed the
book and took another look at Billy. “Excuse me, but are you Billy Talbot?”

Billy gave
Brooke a resigned smile and stood up, his hand extended. “Sure am.”

“I saw you
pitch for the Blue Jays back in oh-eight. You were terrific.” He pumped Billy’s
hand. “Too bad about the arm.”

“Yeah, too
bad.” He motioned with the brandy snifter. “Brooke and I were just having a
nightcap.”

Larry was too
star struck to take the hint. He continued to talk baseball for several minutes
and Brooke finally stood up.

“Well
gentlemen, I think I’ll turn in.” She smiled at Billy and something passed
between them that was more intimate than a kiss. “Goodnight, Billy.”

He stepped
forward and brushed his lips against her cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She nodded
and walked slowly toward the front door. Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.

Leeza was
checking the coffee urn and hot food wells when Jamie breezed into the
restaurant early the next morning. Buffet breakfast was offered from seven
until ten thirty during the week; weekends were more formal, with full service.

“What are you
doing here?” Jamie wandered from table to table, idly checking the level of
salt and pepper in the shakers, something that had been her job as a child.

“I got a call
from Marta last night. She came down with some sort of flu. I said I’d cover
for her.” Leeza moved off. “If you want to talk, come into the kitchen.”

Jamie was
right behind her. “So how long does she think she’ll be out?” The breakfast
cook was rarely sick; Jamie couldn’t remember the last time she’d missed a day.

“She thinks
it’s a twenty-four hour bug. I imagine she’ll be back tomorrow.” Leeza started
to fill a large bowl with fruit salad. “You’re up early yourself. Anything
exciting happening today?”

Jamie’s
thoughts went to Craig. “Not sure. I’m going to take Craig on a tour of the
lake. He’s a bit leery of flying yet.”

Leeza raised
one black eyebrow. “So it’s ‘Craig’ is it? What’s he like?”

Jamie sent a
warning glance toward Leeza’s helper. “He’s nice. I had dinner with him last
night.”

“Duh. Who do
you think cooked your steak?” Leeza rolled her eyes and kept on working.

“Right.”
Jamie reached for a coffee mug. Leeza had suggested that they buy large, sturdy
mugs with handles big enough to accommodate a man’s fingers. They’d been wildly
popular. “Shall I get out of your way?”

“That would
be good.” Leeza lifted the bowl of fruit and backed through the swinging doors.
Jamie had stopped wondering a long time ago how someone so small could be so
strong.

“Okay then. I’ll
get a coffee and go wait for him.” Jamie followed her into the dining room and
poured herself a coffee. “By the way, Brooke said something about having an
idea for a store in the Lodge. Has she said anything to you?”

Leeza
frowned. “No, but I’d like to hear about it.” She paused for a moment. “I’d
listen to anything she has to say. She’s smart.”

“Okay. If she
doesn’t mind, I’ll call you when we talk.”

Leeza nodded
and disappeared back into the kitchen. Like Jamie, she’d often wondered why
Brooke chose to respond to the job posting, but was glad she had. Reservations
and reception had improved tenfold. Even the restaurant was functioning more
smoothly since Brooke had taken over the reservations, and for that she was
grateful.

The timer
pinged and Leeza moved to take the croissants out of the oven. She’d recently
changed suppliers for frozen pastry and was delighted with the results. All
thoughts of Brooke and Jamie were pushed from her mind as they got into the
full swing of preparing the morning buffet.

* * *

“Leeza! Can
you come?” One of the senior maids stood at the entrance to the kitchen. Leeza
was strict about staff in the kitchen and they knew better than to venture too
far inside. It must be something serious for Stacy to be bothering her. She
looked at the wall clock. Eight forty-five. Where had the time gone?”

“I suppose
Jamie has already left for the day. What about Brooke? Can’t she help?” Leeza
wiped her hands on a nearby towel. “What is it, anyway?”

“It’s one of
the guests.” The maid was actually wringing her hands. “He seems awfully sick,
and I can’t find Brooke anywhere.”

Leeza had
taken the St. John’s Ambulance First Aid Course last winter, but so far she hadn’t
needed to use the knowledge. She looked over at Adrian, a question in her eyes.

“Go,” he
said. “We can handle it.”

Stacy led the
way to one of the best rooms overlooking the lake. She knocked quickly and then
entered. “He’s in here,” she said, motioning toward the bathroom.

Leeza
hesitated. The maids were accustomed to seeing guests in various stages of
undress, but it wasn’t her idea of a good time.

“Come on,”
Stacy urged impatiently. “He’s presentable.”

The man sat
of the floor of the bathroom, head hanging between his knees. A towel was
draped around his neck, but even so, Leeza could see muscles rippling in his
arms and shoulders as he looked up, then pushed himself unsteadily to his feet.
He wore a loose pair of sweat pants and nothing else. She tried not to look at
the chest hair that tapered to a fine line and then disappeared into the
waistband of his sweats.

He swayed a
bit and she grabbed his arm. He managed to focus on her with eyes that reminded
her of the decadent brown chocolate sauce she made to go with desserts. If he
looked like this when he was sick, she couldn’t imagine what he must look like
when he was feeling well.

She finally
found her voice. “Here, let me help you.” She guided him out of the bathroom and
he looked down at her hand as though he didn’t know what it was. “You should be
sitting down.”

He took a few
hesitant steps and made it as far as the easy chair by the window. She sat down
across from him and he wiped his face with the towel. His fingers were long and
elegant; definitely not the hands of a construction worker. For one wild moment
she wondered what those hands would feel like on her body. She gave a little
shudder.

“You’re
cold.” He reached toward the open window but she stopped him before he could
get up.

“No, I’m
fine.” She looked around, but Stacy had disappeared. “Can I get you something?
Some water?”

He nodded and
she rose, glad to have something to do. She crossed to the bureau and poured
some water from the decanter that sat there. When she turned around, he’d
slumped back into the chair and was sitting with his eyes closed. He was
without doubt the most beautiful man she had ever seen. A day’s growth of beard
on his chiseled cheeks lent him a dangerous, rakish air and somewhere deep in
her belly she felt the stirrings of lust. He was pale, but instead of making
him appear anemic, it somehow gave him an edge. She couldn’t see his legs, but
she imagined them to be toned and sinewy like his torso. Even his feet were
long and elegant.

Good Lord,
she told herself.
What are you doing? This man is sick.

Faint colour
seemed to be coming back into his face. He opened his eyes and caught her
looking at him. “What’s your name?” he asked, his voice low and raspy. The
sound sent shivers of desire racing through her body.

“Leeza
Campeau.” She handed him the glass of water. “I’m the chef.”

He took a
long drink, then nodded. “I can see that.”

She looked
down at her white jacket. How could she have forgotten that she had it on? “Who
are you?” she asked. It came out a bit more harshly than she’d intended, but he
was making her nervous.

“I’m Matt
Weber. Grizzly bait and now flu catcher.” He gave her a wry grin and motioned
to the chair opposite him. “Would you like to sit down?”

“I didn’t
come here to socialize.” Why was she snapping at him like this? She honestly
had no idea. “I’m sorry. What I meant to say was that I came to see how you are.”
She sat down anyway. “Was it the flu?”

He nodded,
tried another smile. “Yes.” He waved a hand in the direction of the bathroom. “I’m
glad you didn’t have to see that.” He took another sip of water. “Believe it or
not, I’m starting to feel better already.”

She glanced
at her watch and stood. “Good. I really should get back to the kitchen.” She
started for the door, then stopped. “When did you get sick?”

“It started
sometime last night, I think.”

“Interesting.
My breakfast cook called in sick last night.”

He narrowed
his eyes. “Billy and I were playing catch with some kids out in the field just
before dinner and one of them looked pretty rough.” He was watching her
carefully. “The kid was from the campground, so don’t worry. It’s not being
spread through the kitchen.”

She didn’t
try to hide her relief. “Thank you for telling me that.”

“Let’s just
hope nobody else gets it.”

“We should
know by noon.” She hesitated at the doorway. “Sorry but I really do have to go.
Call if you need anything.”