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“I’m not sure that counts as a compliment.”
“Merely trying to avoid social conventions.”
Finally, he coaxed a smile from her. “Touché.”
Their drinks arrived. Zoe sipped hers delicately, like a small child savoring an unaccustomed treat. He wanted to ask her flat out if she could afford a six-week stay at Silver Beeches, but of course, he couldn’t. Attending Vassar indicated a certain level of financial ease. Then again, she could have gone on a scholarship. The fact that he was so obsessed with her background gave him pause. Was his interest related to the hotel, or something more?
A man could want a woman without knowing anything at all about her other than the way she walked and the scent of her perfume. Simple lust he understood. But this fixation on ferreting out Zoe’s secrets alarmed him. Whether she was an eccentric heiress or a working girl with only months to live or European royalty hiding out from the press, her story was hers to tell.
Perhaps if he were patient, Zoe would open up to him. Two decades ago he had allowed infatuation to blind him to the truth about a woman. It had been a salutary lesson, and one he wouldn’t repeat. The fact that he was already so intrigued by Zoe meant he had to be very careful not to let his hormones overrule his common sense.
* * *
Zoe was having the most marvelous time. Dressed up for a change. Chatting with a suave, worldly, handsome man. Feeling like a desirable woman. All in all, quite an exceptional evening.
Liam was fascinating. On the outside, the epitome of a sophisticated gentleman. But in his conversation and in his eyes, she caught glimpses of another man, another less polished persona.
What did it say about her that she wanted to see more of the second?
She savored the last bit of her drink, feeling the pleasant buzz in her limbs as the alcohol worked its way through her bloodstream. She was not much of a drinker and had little tolerance for strong spirits. The daiquiri had just enough of a punch to leave her relaxed and happy.
Liam seemed in no hurry to end their encounter, so she lingered as well, even as the bar emptied slowly. It was fun to pick out the honeymooners, the anniversary couples. A few duos exhibited the marks of enjoying a clandestine affair.
Watching people was a hobby of Zoe’s. She knew how to fade into the background, especially with her guitar around her neck.
Over the years, her people skills had carried her far and had kept her out of harm’s way. A single woman on the road had to be smart and well prepared. Despite her current slenderness, she knew how to fell an assailant and how to disable an aggressor.
Tonight, however, such skills would not be needed. Liam was not the kind of man who had to force himself on a woman. The intensity of his eyes made her shiver. They were technically the same color as hers. But in Liam’s case, the blue was the searing shade found in the heart of a flame.
He had unbuttoned the top button of his shirt and loosened his tie. At the end of a long day, his jaw was shadowed. She imagined for a moment what he would look like in bed, ready for sleep after making love to a woman.
Her thighs tightened and her belly quivered. Perhaps Bessie had been wrong. Perhaps Silver Glen, North Carolina, presented danger rather than a safe haven. Zoe rarely had difficulty guarding her heart. Her transient lifestyle kept relationships at bay.
But then again, she had never met a man like Liam who appealed to her so immediately and so viscerally. Contentment ruled her days for the most part, even if loneliness had to be acknowledged and embraced.
For Liam Kavanagh she was willing to change all that. She knew it in an instant. Perhaps she was even willing to blindly follow the demands of her body and give in to the sweet rush of arousal. Throwing herself into an impulsive affair was completely out of character. But her illness during the late winter had shaken her.
Lying in a strange hospital in Albuquerque, New Mexico, near death at one point, she had hit rock bottom. No one knew where she was. There were no friends nearby to bring flowers and pop in for a visit. If she had slipped away into the great beyond, her passing would have sparked little more interest than a search for next of kin.
Shame and distress made her tremble. She had been on the run for so long that she no longer knew how to relax and enjoy life. She told herself that her needs were few. That traveling light was a virtue. But at the end of the day, what did she have to show for her twenty-seven years on this earth?
Contemplating change was difficult. And terrifying.
Liam reached across the table and took one of her hands in his. “Are you okay, Zoe? You’ve gone pale as milk. And you’re shaking. It’s late. If you’ve been ill, perhaps you need to be in bed.”
Was it her imagination, or did his fingers tighten on hers involuntarily when he said the word bed?
She managed a smile. “I’m fine. Maybe a ghost walked over my grave.”
“Are you superstitious?”
“No more than the next person, I suppose. But the Irish are, I’m told. Though you don’t strike me as the type of man who leans toward whimsy or flights of fancy.”
He released her. The color of his eyes darkened to midnight. His jaw set. “I’ve seen firsthand the pain caused by people who can’t hold on to reality. So, no. I’m not superstitious.”
The turn in the conversation had upset him. But she couldn’t let it drop. “And I’ve seen the damage done by soulless individuals who can’t see the magic in everyday life. So maybe the truth lies somewhere in between.”
They stared at each other. A pleasant evening of flirtation had segued into something far more serious.
He shook his head, his expression rueful. “I think we’ve strayed into territory best left unexplored for the moment. I was supposed to be telling you about things to see and do while you’re here.”
“True.” She glanced at his watch. “But it’s late. We can finish this tomorrow. I need to get some sleep.”
He stood when she did. “I’ll walk you to your room.”
“It’s not necessary.”
His gaze was teasing. “Merely one of our amenities.”
They exited the bar and headed for the duo of elevators in the lobby. Someone had lowered the lights. A sleepy desk clerk sketched a halfhearted wave as they passed by. The intimacy of the hour shrouded everything in a hushed silence.
In the elevator, Zoe leaned against one mirrored wall, Liam the other. His gaze was trained on the carpet at his feet, as though he were lost in thought. The ride was short. A quiet ding, and suddenly they were at Zoe’s floor.
“Good night,” she said, thinking he would remain in the elevator.
Instead, he accompanied her down the hallway. “Perhaps I should check for monsters under your bed,” he whispered, obviously not wanting to disturb his other guests.
She shot him a look, wondering if he expected to come in. “I’m sure a hotel like the Silver Beeches Lodge has a ghostbuster on retainer. But thanks for the offer.”
At her door, she reached in her small bag and withdrew her key card. “I enjoyed our visit,” she said primly. “Thanks for your time.”
They were not touching. Liam stood a good three feet away. But the look in his eyes scorched her. Beneath the thin fabric of her dress, her nipples beaded.
Liam noticed, and took a step backward. “It was my pleasure,” he said. The words were prosaic, but the intonation was not.
Desire shimmered between them, invisible but real. She didn’t really imagine that her vehicle talked to her. That was a game she played. But if she believed in fate, and perhaps she did, then this moment in time was preordained. Something had brought her to a small, private getaway in the mountains where the man of her dreams awaited her.
It was entirely possible she was being naive. Perhaps Liam entertained a number of female guests who walked into his hotel.
Even so, she chose to keep the fiction alive.
She looked at him wistfully, wishing she had the guts to kiss him. “Good night, Liam.”
He nodded tersely, his beautiful eyes turbulent. “Good night, Zoe.”
Three
Liam didn’t sleep worth a damn. His sex was stiff and aching off and on for most of the night. The few hours he did manage to close his eyes and doze, he dreamed of Zoe. When the alarm went off at seven, he groaned and slapped the snooze button. Normally a morning person, today he knew it was going to take more than a cup of coffee—or two or four—to keep him on track.
The dreams he’d experienced had been explicit and erotic. In his extremely vivid nocturnal imagination, Zoe was continually naked and smiling. And happy to see him. He could actually feel the warmth of her body draped across his. A pleasant notion that played well in his subconscious, but not so much in the harsh light of day.
The alarm shrilled a second time, and he gave in.
An hour later, showered, dressed and mostly awake, he headed down to the lobby. It was a weekday, so their check-ins would be light. Marjorie stopped him with a question about a multiroom booking. Pierre wanted to show him a website that might be of interest to their guests. By the time Liam finally made it to his office, it was almost ten.
He sat down at his desk and opened his laptop, gazing absently out his window that overlooked the side of the property. The groundskeeper had outdone himself this past year. Dogwoods bloomed in profusion amidst carefully sculpted banks of forsythia. Narrow paths dotted with ornamental benches invited guests to stop and enjoy the rainbow of irises, tulips and English wildflowers planted in traditional beds.
The tranquil view soothed Liam as a rule. But today it made things worse. Because he could imagine himself and Zoe walking in the moonlight out there. A glance at the calendar on the wall confirmed the fact that the lunar phase was full tonight.
Sucking in a disgusted breath, he forced himself to focus on work. He was a grown man too old to be ruled by his male anatomy. Last night was exhilarating and stimulating in more ways than one. But he had to slow down. He was the head of the Kavanagh family. He had responsibilities. Big ones. He didn’t have the luxury of following every sexual whim.
The landline phone rang, startling him. He picked it up automatically. “Silver Beeches Lodge. Liam Kavanagh speaking.”
The voice on the other end was familiar. “Hey, buddy. Do you have a minute to come down to the shop?”
“What’s up, Gary?” He and the owner of the Silver Chassis had gone to public school together for years and remained friends to this day, despite the differences in their financial situations. Maeve had taught her children from the cradle that they were no better than anyone else. Money is not the measure of a man. Liam had heard those words from her a hundred times.
Silver Glen’s most talented mechanic lowered his voice. “I don’t want to say anything over the phone. But I think you’ll want to see this.”
* * *
Liam snagged a bagel and a banana from the hotel kitchen and ate them on the way down the mountain. The scenic drive was so familiar, he could have done it in his sleep, but the view affected him every time. This town would not exist without Kavanagh ancestors. Every part of the community had Kavanagh blood running through its veins.
For Liam it was both a blessing and a curse. He was proud to be a part of something so special, but he was ruefully aware that his heritage chained him here as certainly as any prison bars.
He’d taken up the yoke after his father’s disappearance. He had stood beside his grieving mother and sworn to keep their family together and afloat. But in the process, he’d given up any autonomy over his future. The road ahead was never going to change. He had trained himself to ignore the bleak disappointment that knowledge occasionally evoked.
He parked on the street behind Gary’s shop and went in search of the owner. Gary was in the pit, examining the undercarriage of a vintage VW bus. When he noticed Liam’s presence, he called out. “Hold on.” Moments later, he climbed up and joined Liam. “This is what I wanted to show you.”
Liam frowned. “I don’t understand.”
Gary was balding prematurely and had a bit of a beer gut, but he knew cars better than anyone Liam had ever met. “It was towed here this morning by an automobile service. The owner contacted me and gave me carte blanche to replace the engine and anything else that needed attention.”
“So?”
“So,” Gary said with a grimace, “the owner has checked into your hotel.”
Liam shook his head in disbelief as the light dawned. “Zoe Chamberlain,” he said.
“How did you know?”
“A lucky guess. When she walked through the front door I pegged her as the reincarnation of a 1960s love child. But despite her eccentricities, I don’t get your concern.”
Gary rubbed his chin, smearing grease below his lip. “Take a look.” He opened the back of the van. “Ms. Chamberlain has been sleeping in the back of her vehicle. On a regular basis. The mattress is well-worn, and she has a stash of personal toiletries in that small cabinet. Call me crazy, but how can a woman like that afford the Silver Beeches? She gave me a platinum card number with no limit. I’m a little spooked though. I can’t afford to get ripped off on a job this big.”
“Meaning you think the card might be stolen?”
“Well, what’s your explanation?”
“I don’t have one.” Liam’s stomach curled with frustration. Had he been taken in by a scam artist?
“How long is she staying?”
“She made a reservation for six weeks.”
“Hell, man. You know your rates better than I do. Something doesn’t add up.”
Liam took one last look inside the van and closed the door. “Go ahead and start ordering parts. I’ll cover it all if there’s a problem. In the meantime, tell her it’s going to be a week or more. I’ll offer her a hotel vehicle to drive. That will buy us some time to make sure the credit card is legit.” His own motives were muddled, but if he did Zoe a favor, perhaps she would be inclined to drop her guard around him and he could figure out what the hell was going on.
Gary slapped him on the shoulder. “Thanks, Liam. Sorry for interrupting your day, but I thought you’d want to know.”
Liam grimaced. “I appreciate the heads-up. I’ll keep you posted.”
* * *
Zoe slept late and enjoyed a wonderfully lazy morning in bed. Breakfast was delivered via room service—a selection of handmade miniature pastries, generous servings of bacon and eggs, and a fancy silver pot full of coffee. By the time she finished, her tummy was uncomfortably full, but she didn’t regret a bite of the overindulgence.
Setting the tray outside her door, she made sure the do-not-disturb sign was in place on the doorknob and then climbed back into bed. Because her room was on the top floor, she had the luxury of leaving the drapes open without worrying about anyone looking in on her.
The sunshine boosted her spirits. Pulling the covers up to her chin, she curled into the spot that was still warm and let her mind wander.
She felt safe in this room in a way she hadn’t in a long time.
The only shadow over her current happiness was Bessie. The garage owner had called moments before and said the repairs would take a number of days because of the difficulty of getting parts. Which meant Zoe was stranded. The nearest car rental place was at the airport in Asheville. She didn’t really want to go back there.
Maybe she could hitch a ride with someone going into town. She liked exploring new places, and Silver Glen, at least from a distance, appeared delightfully appealing.
The severity of her illness had scared her. It was difficult to maintain a healthy lifestyle on the road. Too much fast food and not enough rest and exercise. During the weeks she had booked at the Silver Beeches, she needed to take advantage of the hotel chef’s expertise and eat well.
By one in the afternoon, she had reached her limit for taking it easy. After showering and changing into black slacks and a silky top with a geometric pattern of taupe and cinnamon, she went in search of the dining room. White linen tablecloths and crystal chandeliers set a standard for elegance, though she saw a wide variety of clothing choices in the diners. Everything from jeans to suits and ties.
Asking the hostess for a table for one did not bother Zoe. She had lived much of her adult life on her own. Choosing what to order was far more difficult. The menu was amazing. At long last, she settled on chicken marsala with spinach salad and sautéed squash. The meal included hot yeast rolls that were to die for.
As she ate, she studied her companions surreptitiously. Everyone in the room seemed at ease with the upscale setting. No one pretending to be something they were not. But everyone had secrets of one sort or another, no matter their station in life.
She was drinking coffee with her sorbet when Liam strode into the room. He worked the crowd effortlessly, stopping to speak to one table and then another. His confidence and charm drew smiles from patrons who were clearly pleased to receive his attention. Today he wore a navy sport coat over khaki trousers with another crisp white shirt. His tie was a tasteful paisley pattern of blues and greens.
Despite his conservative clothing, his physique was impressive. Broad shoulders, narrow waist and hips, and long legs. If she had to guess, she’d say he was about six-two to her five foot nine.
Zoe smiled at him wryly when he finally made it to where she sat, her pulse skittering in a disconcerting fashion. “You should have been a politician. I can see you kissing babies and shaking hands all over the state.”
Without asking, he pulled out a chair and sat down beside her. His quick grin took years off his age. “I hate lying and sucking up to fat cats. So I don’t think so. I’m happy right where I am.”
“Are you really?”
The grin disappeared, replaced by what she was coming to recognize as his familiar brooding intensity. “What does that mean?”
She shrugged. “Don’t you ever have the urge to drive out of town and not look back? Hit the road for places unknown?”
