Passions in the North Country (Siren Publishing Classic) (6 page)

But now, out of his orbit, Jenny’s passion again started to rise. She laid down her novel and turned off the light. In the story the heroine was a beautiful dark-skinned woman deserted on a South Sea island with a handsome man from an antagonistic tribe. They had vowed at first to fight each other, then realized such a course of action was of benefit to neither. For weeks they ignored each other, living at separate ends of the island. But they would come into contact when she gathered fruit and he fished or hunted for wild game. Then he happened upon her while she was bathing, naked in the moonlight, her large, heavy breasts hanging like succulent fruit, the big, round nipples dark and swollen. The power of attraction had taken over and he waded into the water with her. Then, for the next ten pages, the author described the hottest, sexiest lovemaking Jenny had ever read.

She started to touch herself, whisked away on the magic carpet into an erotic dream where she was totally engaged in wild, unthinking sex. That’s what she liked best. When nothing else existed except the carnal pleasure, the sweet delights of lust and passion. Again she was starting to feel really good, ready to explode in a magnificent climax. But just as she approached the door of release, Devon North’s face popped into her mind. She saw him naked, in full horn, ready to mate with her.

“No!” she suddenly said with a sour look, pulling her hand out of her panties. “Not him! Anybody but him!”

She tried again, knowing it would relax her and she could sleep, but she could not. His face kept appearing to her. Who was this man, this Devon North? What right did he have to intrude on her dreams, especially in such an intimate way? Truth was, he had no right. He was not welcome in her life, in her dreams, and certainly not in her bed. Not in a million years! Again she touched herself, aching to release her pent-up sexual energy, but yet again she could not. Devon North would simply not remove himself from her thoughts. Frustrated, she sighed and turned over, pledging to think of anything but him.

But he came back. She pictured his face, his hands, his big blue sweater—thoughts of him swirled in her mind like balletic leaves on an autumn wind. He was strange, passing strange, but already he meant something to her, something she could not understand, something that both attracted and repelled her.

“I do owe you one thing,” she mumbled. “Ever since I met you, I’ve hardly thought about Ivan.”

* * * *

For the next couple hours she tried to sleep but could not. Finally, totally frustrated, she dressed and walked over to the office. Henry was sitting behind the counter and reading a newspaper. He put it down immediately upon seeing her.

“Hello, Jenny,” he said. “What brings you out so late?”

“Insomnia,” she replied. “I feel restless.”

“Do you know Mr. North?” Henry asked, searching out a reason for the heated exchange he witnessed earlier.

“No, we don’t know each other.”

“Really,” he said, raising an eyebrow like Mr. Spock on Star Trek. “You seem to have a…an interesting relationship.”

“I have no relationship with him,” Jenny said.

“Okay,” Henry answered, totally befuddled.

Jenny tried to smile but the thought of Devon made her intensely angry. “He’s quite full of himself, isn’t he?”

Henry looked down and away, not wanting to get drawn into the beginnings of a war. “We all get along well,” he said, “but, to tell you the truth, he seems to resent you for some reason.”

“I never did anything to him,” Jenny assured.

He was at a loss to explain it. “Yes, that’s true. You just met.”

Jenny felt an odd sense of pleasure talking about him. “Where is he staying?”

“He’s renting a house on Bear River. He comes up every morning and works all day, then goes back to the house to sleep. He’s been doing that for weeks.”

“Does he have family here?”

“Not that I’m aware of. He lives by himself.”

“Not married?”

“He lives alone—that’s all I know. But I don’t think he’s married.”

“No girlfriend?”

“I’ve never seen him with one.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” Jenny said casually. “I can’t imagine anyone putting up with his superior attitude.”

“Oh, there are a lot of interested women in town. I’ve been asked to arrange introductions, but all the man ever does is work. He hasn’t got time for a social life. The only break he’s had from the hotel was today when he went to get the lamb.” Henry tried to appease her. “Devon is not the kind of man who gabs just for the sake of hearing himself. Sure, he wouldn’t make a great party host, but he is a fair, decent man. Ask anyone.”

“That doesn’t seem possible,” she said honestly.

“Really, it’s true. He saved some money and saw fit to invest it in a worthwhile project. That tells me the man has character and I don’t mind saying that a woman your age could do much worse.”

“I suppose,” Jenny remarked distractedly, “that he’d be a real catch…if you were a female grizzly bear.”

“You’ve misjudged him,” Henry argued. “I don’t know what happened between you two, but he is respected in the community.”

“So was Attila the Hun.”

“Maybe he likes you,” Henry offered.

Jenny laughed and rolled her eyes. “Like me? He can’t stand me.”

“I remember when I was in school,” Henry began. “There was this girl in my class, Becky Rhodes. Now I had this big crush on Becky, but how does a guy tell a girl he likes her? Maybe the guy isn’t sophisticated and he just tries to get her attention. That’s what I did. I dipped her hair in an ink well and it got all over the collar of her new dress. Now she was fit to be tied and her mother went to the principal and said I assaulted her. They moved Becky as far away from me as they could and she never so much as spoke another word to me after that day. I liked her, you see, but I had done it all wrong. And guess what?”

“What?” Jenny said with a chuckle.

“Half the girls in the class had gotten their hair dipped in ink wells.”

Jenny laughed. “What are you trying to say, Henry?”

“Maybe he likes you, Jenny, like I said, and by snapping at you he’s dipping your hair in an ink well. Maybe to him you represent danger.”

“Danger?” she said, making a strange face.

“Men like to be independent and free. It’s their nature. But women have power that is so strong no man can overcome it. Maybe your power is a threat to him.”

Jenny shook her head. “You have a very vivid imagination, Henry.” She lightly touched his forearm. “In this case, though, you’re way off the mark, I can assure you.”

“Maybe I am, but maybe you are. Neither of us knows what’s going on in his mind, do we?”

“That I concede,” Jenny said. “I have no idea what’s going on inside that man’s head.”

“He’s a hard worker, Jenny, and he’s an honorable man. Some men are a little unrefined, that’s all. They have callused fingers and strong backs. They work with their hands and earn their money by the sweat on their brows. Miriam’s husband was like that, you know. He could keep fishing when others dropped from exhaustion.”

“Did he die?” Jenny asked with compassion, glad to speak of someone other than Devon. She sat on a stool across from him. “Or did they break up?”

“He died at thirty and left Miriam behind with a newborn baby boy.”

“I’m sorry,” Jenny said. “That’s very sad.”

Henry looked meaningfully at her. “If it hadn’t been for her son, I don’t think she could have coped. A child gives you a reason to live. But no matter how much a woman loves her baby, every woman needs a man in her life.”

Jenny started to say something, but thought better of it.

Henry noticed and said, “What is it, dear?”

Jenny was reluctant to pry, but curiosity overcame caution. “Were men scared off by the baby?”

“Some were,” Henry answered bluntly.

“Did she like any of them? Did she continue dating?”

“She loved her husband and when he died no one else measured up. In a way, I guess she just couldn’t let go. Now she’s alone. Opportunity can be lost, you know.”

“Sometimes a woman never finds a man she truly loves.”

“Sometimes women don’t give men a chance,” Henry said. “A man won’t be there forever. If you wait too long, another woman will steal him.”

“That’s better than being in a loveless marriage.”

Henry shrugged. “In the end we all have to make our own decisions, but I can tell you that a life alone is a lonely life. I’ve grown accustomed to it, but now that Miriam’s son has his own family, all she’s got is this hotel. I hope for her sake it doesn’t fail.”

“That would never happen, would it?”

“Devon has done some fantastic work, but the building was incredibly rundown and the hotel’s reputation has been tarnished. I’m sure he can’t go on spending forever. Sooner or later he has to start getting a return on his investment. If he doesn’t, the bank will make a move.” He pressed his lips together. “Devon’s been borrowing money from the bank, you know. It’s only a few thousand, but you see how much has to be done here. It’s not good.”

“I’m positive the hotel will succeed, Henry.”

“I don’t know. The hotel didn’t fall apart in a day and it’s not going to recover in a day. It’s going to be a long road back to respectability.” He paused. “I know you just got here, Jenny, but maybe with your experience you have some suggestions.”

“How bad is business?” she asked quietly, almost as if afraid of being overheard, even though there was no one else present.

“Terrible,” Henry said flatly. “The east wing is scheduled to open tomorrow, but it’s not ready and there’s no buzz around town. The room you’re in and three others have been ready for two weeks, but you’re only the third person we’ve had in all that time. I hate to sound skeptical, but I’m afraid this experiment is going to flop.”

“Hmm,” Jenny mumbled with a pensive look.

“What can we do?” Henry asked with grave concern.

“To tell you the truth,” Jenny noted, “I was at a hotel that already had a solid reputation and an established clientele. Here you’re essentially starting from scratch.”

“Worse than that. The Riverview Hotel has a negative reputation that has to be overcome.”

“I’m sure it will work out.”

“Why did you leave you last job, Jenny?”

Jenny had no intention of mentioning the fact that she left because she was literally running for her life. Nor was she going to mention that she feared Ivan so much that she was even afraid to call the police. Better to run and forget about him. Maybe he would forget her. Maybe he would go on with his life and file her away simply as a past experience.

If only she knew.

“I was burned out,” Jenny lied, lowering her eyes. “I was putting in ten- and twelve-hour days, and for the last year I was taking courses, too. But more than that, I got tired of the atmosphere. The hotel seemed like a fast food restaurant. People were just faces. You moved them in and out as efficiently as possible and you never got to know anyone as an individual.”

“You’d find it a lot different at our hotel. It’s sort of, I don’t know, kind of homey here. At least it was.”

“I’m sure it will be restored to its former grandeur, Henry. You can feel the personality and history in this building. It really does have tremendous potential.”

“Then you’ll stick with us? You’ll try to help get this juggernaut turned around?”

“I don’t know,” Jenny said, forcing a smile.

Henry looked knowingly at her. “I understand. I wouldn’t want to take it on either.”

“It’s not that,” Jenny said shyly, as if conflicted.

“I’m sorry. I’m badgering. You’ve been working hard and you probably need a break. The last thing you want to do is jump right back into the fray, especially with a hotel so down on its luck.”

“It’s not that,” Jenny said again.

“What then?”

Jenny didn’t feel completely comfortable in revealing her thoughts, but there was no denying that Henry was the type of person with whom she felt an instant rapport, as though she knew him all her life. In many ways he reminded her of Arnie back in Florida.

“It’s that man,” Jenny suddenly blurted out. “I don’t like the thought of dealing with him. He obviously doesn’t want me around.”

“Devon? Oh, he’ll be all right. He probably just had a bad day. I’m certain that if you can figure out a way to make his hotel more successful, he’ll love you for it.”

“I don’t want him to love me,” Jenny retorted. “I’d settle for him promising not to bite me.”

Henry laughed. “I’m so glad you’ve come, dear. I can see you’re going to be a ray of sunshine around here.”

Jenny felt a warm glow at the compliment. “Thank you for making me feel welcome.”

“So,” he said, looking hopefully at her, “you plan on staying for awhile?”

“I’m sort of playing it by ear.”

“All right. That’s fair enough.”

Jenny looked down at the newspaper and saw a picture of a beach and a large gothic house on the hill in the background. For some unknown reason, she was sure—positively convinced—that she had seen this house and beach before. How that was possible, she had no idea, but that she had seen it before, there could be no doubt. It was eerie that this feeling of déjà vu had been following her ever since she came to the hotel.

“Where is this?” she asked keenly. “It looks familiar.”

Henry shrugged. “That’s White Sands Beach. It’s no more than half an hour from here.”

“Who owns the house?”

“I have no idea. It’s been deserted for years. You can walk right up to it and look in.”

“Really? I could go and have a look?”

“Sure. White Sands Beach is a public beach and there’s a nature trail not far from the house. People go up and look inside all the time. Like I said, it’s deserted.”

“Sounds fantastic,” Jenny said, still staring at the house. “I’ve seen that house before. A picture, on television—I don’t know where, but I have seen it before. I’m sure.”

“Maybe you have,” Henry conceded. “I’m not going to argue with you.” He laughed. “The beach is about a mile long. The sand is very fine and bleached white. The ocean is the deepest blue you’ve ever seen and at either end of the beach are two steep cliffs. I’m sure you’d like it.”