Passions in the North Country (Siren Publishing Classic) (7 page)

“I do like it here,” she said, looking around. “I’ve never been to Nova Scotia before, but I think I could live here the rest of my life.”

“Wow,” Henry replied, obviously pleased by her enthusiasm. “I’m sure we’d all love to have you stay, Jenny.”

A look of concern descended over her brows. “If you don’t mind, could you speak to Mr. North and sound him out for me. If he’s violently opposed to me working here, I would rather leave.”

“I’ll ask, but I’m sure everything will be fine. He’s just used to being the boss and sometimes it’s hard for a man to accept that he needs a woman’s help.”

Jenny was exceedingly pleased that Henry and Miriam considered her an important, even integral, part of the business, even though she had been there only a short time. When she was given the Florida job, she had to go through a battery of tests and a round of interviews. The informality at the Riverview Hotel, although not something she was used to, was very pleasing to her. “Could you,” she said, feeling greatly embarrassed, “speak to Mr. North as soon as possible? Like before he comes up here in the morning.”

“Jenny, he’s not going to have you arrested for trespassing.”

“Just the same, I don’t want a confrontation, and if he’s going to make an issue of it—”

“I would phone him,” Henry noted, “but he doesn’t have a phone at the river house.”

“He doesn’t have a phone? That’s odd.”

“Just between you and me,” Henry said, lowering his voice, “I think he is a little odd.”

Jenny leaned forward, her eyes opened wide with curiosity. “How so?”

“He’s a real loner. He’s friendly enough with us, but you get the feeling he doesn’t like to be with people any more than he has to. He could have taken the Captain’s room out back—the one in the Captain’s House—but he chose to rent down the river. I think it was so he could be alone. There’s no other explanation. He spent a lot of money on the hotel and I’m sure he’s on a tight budget, but he clings to that house and his privacy, even though he’s paying some pretty big rent.”

Jenny nodded. “To tell you the truth, I got the impression that he really doesn’t like people very much at all.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Henry said, shrugging, “but he is reserved—maybe it’s something from his past.”

“Maybe, but he better make some character changes if he wants to run a hotel. The last thing a man in his position needs to be is a hermit with an attitude.”

“That’s true,” Henry agreed, laughing. “But God knows there are plenty of women in Newbridge who would like to get to know him.”

“Oh?”

“He is a handsome devil, isn’t he?”

“He’s all right, I guess,” Jenny begrudgingly conceded, “but not the kind of man I find attractive.”

“Oh, he’s a looker, Jenny,” Henry insisted. “Reminds me of myself when I was young.”

Jenny smiled with good-natured amusement.

“The ladies in town are still trying to figure him out. When he first came, a lot of them did everything in their power to meet him. There was a running joke about women spontaneously meeting him at the hardware store and confessing their hidden passion for plumbing supplies.” He laughed. “It was quite a circus.”

“Did he show any interest?” Jenny inquired casually.

“He was friendly, that’s all.”

“Friendly?” Jenny thought, struck by the word.

Devon had not been friendly to her, nor could she imagine him ever being the least bit personable, but for some unknown reason she still felt pleased that Devon was not particularly struck by anyone else. Why this pleased her, she would not, or could not, say. Devon had been openly hostile toward her. That puzzled her. With other men Jenny always had a way. She never led them on or used them, but with a single smile she always won them over. Devon was different. He was a moody, insufferable beast. He treated her with complete disdain and total disinterest. So why, she wondered, was she wasting time thinking about him?

No doubt about it, Devon was a challenge. A mystery. Why did he act the way he did? Was Henry right, and did something from his past haunt him? And was unraveling the secret of this man the only thing that interested her? She thought of his handsome face, his powerful, manly presence, his tough, skilled hands…Never before in her life had she felt so conscious of a man. He was her total opposite and a world away from what she envisioned as her “dream man,” yet he forced his way into her consciousness and would not leave. But he would leave! She would make him leave! This man, this Devon North, was a passing fancy who had overstayed his welcome. Jenny banished him from her thoughts and, when he still stubbornly refused to depart, she assured herself that he would be gone and forgotten after a good night’s sleep.

“Thinking of something pleasant?” Jenny heard Henry say.

Jenny snapped out of her daydreams. “Excuse me, Henry, I was drifting.”

“I just said that you must have been thinking about something pleasant because you had such a nice smile on your face.”

“I’m just tired,” Jenny said, excusing herself. “I think I’ll turn in for the night.”

“By all means, go ahead. You’ve had a busy day.”

“Yes,” Jenny said with a sigh. “A very busy day.”

She bid Henry good night and walked back to her room. The door creaked when she opened it, but the abode felt like a cave, a place that she could crawl into as if she was an animal, a place she could vanish. She disrobed and crawled under the sheets. The bed felt like a soft cloud. With everything that happened to her in the last few weeks Jenny was emotionally drained. She wanted to sleep like Rip Van Winkle.

When her head hit the pillow, she drifted off immediately.

Her sleep was not restful, though. She dreamed of a big coyote at the edge of a farm, pacing steadily and relentlessly, refusing to stop until he had brought down the lone lamb. Jenny knew even in her dreams that Ivan would not stop until his prey was dead. He would not stop, would not. Sooner or later, Ivan Wiley would find her and try to wreak his vengeance. She had no idea when that would happen, but she knew the day was coming. Jenny had no idea of what was yet to come, because if she did, she would not have been able to sleep.

When Jenny awoke to glorious sunshine, her first thoughts were of Devon North. That annoyed her. She didn’t like the man, had no affection for him whatsoever, and wished he would leave her alone. But she also visualized him changing her tire in the rain, making her feel safe when the whole world seemed to be crashing in around her. If he wasn’t such a jerk, they might have been able to be friends. But as it stood, she had no idea how she could work with him. Especially as he was quite clear that he wanted her gone.

“Time to get up, dear!” Miriam called, lightly knocking at the door. “The boys will soon be here.”

“Okay, Miriam, I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“I’ll make tea,” the elderly woman said as she walked back toward the office.

Jenny took a quick shower, then emerged from the bathroom wearing a towel. The sound of an electric saw interrupted her reveries as she dried her hair. Pulling the curtain aside just far enough to peek out, she could see Devon standing by the Captain’s House and cutting lumber on a work bench. She slightly shifted her position to get a better view and the towel fell, leaving her as naked as a jaybird. Hidden behind the curtain, her current state was not a threat to her modesty, but it gave her a vicarious thrill to be looking at Devon while standing in the nude.

“You are good looking,” she muttered, her eyes locked on the strong, capable man as he expertly went about his work. “Too bad you don’t have a personality to match.” He bent over to pick up another board, his tight, full buns perfectly framed by his snug jeans. “Definitely easy on the eyes.”

Again a strange spirit of desire overcame her. She closed the curtain and laid on the bed, fantasizing about having sex with Devon. He was naked, on top of her, driving his hot, hard erection into her. Steady, relentless, perfectly smooth strokes, a bonfire of kissing, holding his tight, hard buns, pumping up and down, moans, shrieks of pleasure, their bodies slapping together, the room full of sex smell…Jenny started rubbing her legs together and without even touching herself approached a massive orgasm. But then his words of rejection and his arrogant attitude surfaced in her mind. The erotic spell was broken. She sat up, short of breath, chest heaving, and chided herself for thinking about him in that way…yet again.

“I don’t care how good he looks,” she said, sounding like an addict trying to quit her drug, “I don’t want this guy in my life, or in my thoughts.” She held out her hands as if making a pronouncement. “Stop thinking about him…especially in that way!”

She quickly dressed in tight blue jeans with a pink belt, light green sneakers and a yellow top with the buttons undone just enough to see part of her smooth, creamy cleavage. The colors she wore were all over the map and often looked frivolous when she was a blonde, but now that she was a redhead, the perspective seemed to have changed. Instead of looking frivolous, the red hair made her look almost rebellious, as if she was making a statement. Sort of. “This is me and I don’t give a damn what you think.” And in a way, she rather liked the change. It was refreshing.

Jenny opened the curtain expecting to see Devon, but instead her eyes were instantly drawn through a gap in the trees where she noticed a man walking past on the street. He looked exactly like Ivan. Exactly! She had seen him for only a few seconds, but the height, the black leather coat, even the gait—everything was a perfect match. If it was, she knew he was here to kill her. To obliterate her. To wipe her off the face of the earth. Her heart pounded and she kept watching, but the man did not emerge again on the other side of the hedgerow.

“He must have turned down Gunnery Road,” she said pensively, biting her lip. She rubbed her fingers. “No, it was just a coincidence. Yes, a coincidence.” She tried hard to convince herself. “It definitely wasn’t Ivan! There’s no way he could have found me this fast.”

She suddenly noticed Devon had rounded the corner and was looking right at her. It was obvious he had seen her staring at the sidewalk with an alarmed look on her face. He looked at the street just as she looked at him, then their eyes met. Jenny quickly turned away and Devon apparently thought he must have misinterpreted the look of distress.

He casually went back to work.

A moment later Jenny emerged from her room. Devon looked up at her for an instant, saw that she looked perfectly composed, then went back to measuring and cutting. Ignoring him, Jenny walked toward the office and met three young men as they rounded the corner. Devon watched Jenny greet them with a beaming smile, and each of the young men was instantly charmed. She spoke to them for a few minutes and then walked up to Devon.

“Nice day,” she said.

“I own this hotel,” he stated. “Let’s make sure we keep that straight.”

She glared. “Don’t start!” she snapped lowly, though she looked back at the young men with a smile.

They smiled back.

“What do you want them to do?” Jenny asked him, her lips set firmly in an angry scowl. “Where are the ladders? Where is the paint?”

“Oh, I thought you might have taken care of it.”

“Where are the materials?” she asked sharply and with a humorless expression

He looked at the boys. “The hotel needs to be scraped first,” he noted. “Everything you need is in the shed.”

“Everything you need is in the shed,” Jenny repeated, but much more warmly. She floated like a butterfly across the yard. “Mr. North is very pleased you’re on time, Danny. Thank you.”

They all smiled and grinned sheepishly at her, still taken by her elegance and femininity. Danny led them to the shed where they found scrapers, ladders, and paint. Apparently experienced, Danny told the others exactly what to do, and the young men set about their task with seriousness and determination.

“When they finish, the hotel is going to look fantastic,” Jenny said. “A few hanging flowers out front would really set the place off. Do I have your permission to buy three or four?”

“You need permission?”

“I’d like it, yes. For twenty or thirty dollars you make a huge investment in the presentation of this hotel. All right? Can I buy the flowers and be reimbursed by Miriam out of the hotel account?”

He hesitated.

“Well?” she asked flatly.

“Make sure you have the receipt,” he replied coolly.

Jenny rolled her eyes. “Yes, sir,” she said sarcastically, saluting him as if he was a general.

“I’ll call Mr. Weatherby at the hardware store,” Devon said, a tone of suspicion in his voice. “I have an account there and I’ll tell him you’re coming by. Thirty dollars—max. Agreed?”

“Agreed,” she said flatly and with a smirk.

Devon looked back at the young men. “I know they’re good at smashing things and committing acts of vandalism, but I don’t know if your employees are any good at painting.”

“They won’t be good,” she said with confidence, “they’ll be great.”

“Really?” Devon said flatly.

He was surprised by her cocksure attitude, but for some reason he rather liked it. Jenny said no more and walked around the side of the building, joining Miriam on the veranda for breakfast. She hoped Devon would soon root himself in another section of the hotel where their paths would not cross. Unfortunately, that did not transpire. No sooner had she sat down than Devon rounded a corner with a wheelbarrow full of rotten wood. He warmly greeted Miriam but ignored Jenny as if she didn’t exist.

She scowled at him in a nasty kind of way, completely without reservation. He shrugged it off and continued working. It suddenly struck Jenny that though they had a poor relationship, if you could call it a relationship at all, she was not afraid of him like she was afraid of Ivan. On the contrary, she knew she could stand up to him, battle him even, and he would not hurt her. She knew that beyond all doubt. In a strange kind of way, that made scowling at him a very pleasurable experience. She could have tension with a man, including strong conflict, and there would be no negative repercussions, outside of him wanting to avoid her company. After what she had been through with Ivan, the constant walking on eggshells and watching absolutely every tiny thing she did, this inspired her with a tremendous sense of freedom and lightness. It was as if she had been liberated from a prison.