PassionsPoison (2 page)

Zach had the bread loaded with roast beef and sliced tomatoes
and had turned to set the knife in the sink when he stopped. “Maine.”

She padded across the floor to the counter and sat on a
stool. “That’s more remote than Tamwick. I would imagine you could find a lot
of isolated acreage there.”

He picked up the condiments. “Mustard or mayo?”

“Mayo, please.”

He slathered on a good helping. Obviously his slim waist and
hips weren’t affected by calories. But his dietary habits didn’t hide the fact
he hadn’t answered her. Then again, it wasn’t any of her business.

She took the hint. After all, she was here for the Larsens,
not herself. He was off-limits in so many ways. “So, how many carvings do you
do a month?”

He turned to put the food back in the refrigerator, which
gave her the opportunity to enjoy the scenery of his back. He had a scar that
ran from his left shoulder blade to the right side of his waist. She wanted to
know what had happened, but didn’t ask.

He closed the fridge, a beer under his arm, and balanced the
plates as he walked. “It depends. If I have orders, I fill them. If not, I make
a few extras to have on hand. Sometimes people want one yesterday.”

She followed him to a large rustic pine table. He placed her
food to his left as he deposited his at the head. She sat facing the view, but
found him more interesting.

He picked up his sandwich. “When do you need the one for the
inn?”

“By Ice-Out.”

He chewed his food, but raised his eyebrows.

She shrugged, it was an unusual deadline, but Sharon Larsen
had set the date. Her bosses could be a bit eccentric. “I know, I know. Who’s
to say when Ice-Out will be? I did some research and the earliest the lake was
clear of ice for the M.S.
Wavemaster
boat to make its five scheduled
ports was March 24, but the latest was May 12.”

He took a swig of beer. “It’s March 26th and this warm spell
is melting the ice pretty fast. All we need is a good rain and the lake will
clear, as least enough for the boat.”

She nodded, her mouth full of roast beef.

He sat back in his chair. “Well, I have to admit it’s the
strangest deadline I’ve ever had.”

She swallowed and licked her lips before she spoke. “I know
it’s a bit unusual, but I’m sure the Larsens will pay top dollar if you can
produce a carving in time.”

“I’m not worried about the money. It’s the time factor.
However, I’ve never been one to shy away from a challenge and this one is
definitely unique.” He smiled with anticipation.

Bea’s heart did a little sidestep. Oh no, this wasn’t good
at all. Lusting for this man was bad enough, but liking him would be dangerous
for both of them. The sooner she left his house the better. “So, what could you
do for the inn? I have a brochure about it in my car.”

He pushed back from the table and walked into the living
room where he grabbed a pad of paper and a pencil that sat on an end table. “I’ve
actually seen the Lakeside Inn. Had drinks in the bar there once or twice.”

How could she have missed that? Her body reacted like radar
to him.

He strode back to the table, a secret smile on his face.
“Mostly during bike week, so I wasn’t there long, but I do remember it.”

That explained why she hadn’t seen him. She always took that
week off to help her dad Gerry at his bar.

Zach nudged his empty plate aside.

As he began to sketch, her curiosity piqued. She finished
half her sandwich and pushed her plate away so she could lean forward for a
better view. “I saw a sketch of raccoons in your shop. Can you do something
that nice?”

He didn’t look at her, his attention fixed on his drawing.

Her gaze wandered from the paper to his face. His brows
moved inward, revealing deep lines of concentration. His eyes were a dark green
and heavy-lidded, which to her mind was a winning bedroom combination. He had a
straight nose, strong and masculine, but his lips were to die for. They were
dark with a lot of stubble around them and supported by a square jaw.
Thankfully, he had no cleft in his chin. She despised that model look.

He turned the pad toward her. “Here are a few options. If I
stay with the lake theme, I could do fish jumping, or reeds, or a mermaid,
though I admit to being less than stellar with female faces. The chainsaw
doesn’t like them.”

His quick grin had warmth spreading from her neck to her
toes. His eyes shone with good humor and she wanted to revel in their
merriment. But he broke eye contact and pointed to a few other rough sketches.

“Or I could do beaver, black bear, or…” He hesitated.

She leaned closer to get a better look at the pad. The faint
scent of musk floated toward her.

He met her gaze, their faces mere inches apart, and all she
wanted was for him to kiss her.

His eyes were full of excitement, but for her or the
carving? She couldn’t read him, which drove her crazy. Her own attraction
overrode all her normal senses.

He grinned. “How about a birch tree? I could have a beaver
at the bottom in the process of gnawing it down while a downy woodpecker yells
at him from a branch above. I think it would blend well with the inn’s
surroundings and yet stand out as a story in itself.”

Bea swallowed. His face glowed with energy and vitality. She
couldn’t resist.

She leaned forward and kissed him.

Zach’s brain took a second to realize the gorgeous woman
across from him had her lips firmly planted on his. But as soon as he did, he
took control and wrapped his hand behind her neck to pull her closer.

Her soft lips parted at his movement.

He slipped his tongue inside and explored the sweetness of
her mouth. The blood rushed from his slow brain to his groin. The need to bring
her body against him grew so strong, he groaned.

She pushed herself away.

He let her go, but he wanted more, a lot more. His cock
straining against his jeans attested to that fact.

She wouldn’t meet his gaze. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… I
just thought your idea was so brilliant… I don’t usually… I mean—”

He smiled at the blush reddening her high cheeks. If he
could capture that look in wood, he’d be famous. “No need to apologize. I
didn’t mind a bit. In fact, anytime you feel the need, I’m at your disposal.”

It was the wrong thing to say. He realized his mistake two
seconds too late. Her face went from pretty in pink to white.

She stood, overturning her chair. “I should go. Again, I’m
very sorry.”

She made it to the top of the stairs before he caught her,
grabbing her hand. “Hey, are you okay?”

Bea took a deep breath before she turned to meet his gaze.

When her moist brown eyes stared up at him, he cursed
himself for a heel.

She attempted a smile, but failed miserably. “You’ve asked
me that a lot since I got here, but yes, I’m fine. Just horrified at my
behavior.”

Though her lashes were wet as she blinked to hold back her
tears, he couldn’t ignore the beauty of her face, the silkiness of her hair, or
the barely controlled need to take her in his arms and comfort her. He didn’t
know what to say, but he had to see her again. “Listen, I’ll work on a few
sketches. If you come by Wednesday, we can choose one so I can get started.”

She hesitated before she shook her head. “I’m sure whatever
you decide will be fine. After all, you’re the artist.”

She tried to remove her hand, but he held tight. “No, actually,
I’m a logger by trade. I started this whole carving thing for kicks. Really,
I’ll need your help to decide what to carve.”

Her shoulders slumped and his gut twisted in response, but
his groin tightened the moment she nodded.

“Very well. I’ll be back Wednesday after I go over the books
with Mr. Larsen.”

He smiled and let her go. “Good. I’ll see you Wednesday.”

She started down the stairs.

Unwilling to lose sight of her yet, he leaned over the
railing, watching until she reached the basement. Crossing to the windows, he
waited to catch sight of her as she left the house. He heard the door close and
she came into view as she picked her way through the trees in her ridiculous
high-heeled boots, her hips swaying with each cautious step. How he’d love to see
her naked except for those boots, sprawled across his bed, wrists tied above
her head. The thought of her boot-clad legs wrapping around him while he pumped
inside her had his cock hardening again. He wanted this woman.

He spoke to the windowpane. “Turn around and look up, Bea.”

She kept walking, but when she reached the edge of the
clearing, she stopped.

He held his breath.

She took another step, looked back, then continued out of
sight.

Zach smiled and strode into the kitchen. She was as
attracted to him as he was to her and he couldn’t have been more surprised. He
cracked open another beer and leaned on the counter. Professional women like
Bea usually didn’t go for him. He was too rugged. But if she was interested, he
certainly wouldn’t put up a fight. He’d never had a gorgeous woman kiss him the
day he met her, but a fast-and-furious relationship would be perfect. He’d
learned all too well, long-term with him was a death sentence, literally. Three
times together and he would end it.

He grabbed his pad of paper off the table and sat in the
living room. He sketched long, black flowing hair, a slim body and legs that
went on forever. Detailing the face, he added almond-shaped eyes that tilted up
slightly, erotically. A soft stroke added a slender nose that was followed by
full, sensuous lips. He paused, remembering the feel of them on his own. His
cock stirred as he drew full, naked breasts, the smallest of navels and a hint
of shadow between her legs. Then he added the boots, filling in the black
leather. Holding the paper up, he looked his fill. She would be delicious.

He closed his eyes. Was it Wednesday yet?

“Bea, calm down. There has to be another way.” Her mom’s
voice came through her cell phone and ascended another octave on the pitch
scale.

“I am calm, Mom. I’ve thought this through. I’ve tried your
way and it hasn’t worked. The only way I’m going to get pregnant is to have in
vitro fertilization.”

“No, you haven’t tried ‘my way’. Did you ever think the
reason you haven’t become pregnant is because you’re always with different men?
I didn’t get pregnant with you until I was down to sleeping with the same six.
That might be the answer.”

Bea’s attention was drawn by a customer with suitcases
trudging into the lobby. “Mom, I have to go now. I’ll call you later.”

“Come over for dinner Saturday night. I think we need to
talk more.”

“Okay, I’ll see you then.” Bea sighed as she ended the call.
Ever since meeting Zach, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she had to do
something and fast. She just wished she knew what it was she should do.

As the customer approached the front desk, one of the
bellmen offered to take his luggage. Bea stepped around the corner into the
office and tapped Kayla on the shoulder. “You have a check-in.”

Kayla set down her cup of coffee and pasted on a smile. “Got
it.”

As she sauntered past, Bea stopped her to brush away a
little white powder near Kayla’s lips.

Kayla rolled her eyes. “Thanks.”

Bea took Kayla’s seat in the back and pushed aside the jelly
donut on the desk. Blindly, she faced the window. Her mom didn’t understand,
and Bea had no idea how to explain it to her. It wasn’t her biological clock.
It was her need to stop hurting the men she had sex with, her “poison-release
vessels” as her mom referred to them. But Bea couldn’t think of them like that,
wouldn’t think of them like that. Every one of them had a life, and the
sickness she caused them had started a self-loathing inside her that had grown
beyond the bearable. She needed help.

Bea pulled her phone from the pocket of her jeans and
punched number two. “Hello, Grandma.”

“Ah Bea, how nice to hear from you. Did you have a
satisfying weekend? How many hunks did you shag?”

She flushed. “Grandma! Only one, but that’s partly why I’m
calling. I can’t do this anymore.”

There was silence and a long sigh. ”I know how you feel,
honey, but you have to. If you don’t, your poisons will build up inside and
kill you.”

“Are you sure?” She knew she sounded desperate, but she
didn’t care.

“That’s what happened to my mother.”

Bea leaned forward in her chair, her heart slowing. “I
didn’t know that. I thought she died in prison.”

“Yes, she did, because she had no men available that she
could release her poisons into. You were wondering if it was true, weren’t you?
Even though you may have only felt lightheaded and drained sometimes, you
wondered if the toxins in our bodies would really kill us. I’m sorry to say,
they will.”

Bea swallowed. Her grandmother had leapt ahead of her own
thought process. “I understand. Mom told me once that if I have a baby it would
lessen the need for release. Is that true?”

“Absolutely. Before I had your mom I had to have sex at
least seven times a week, but now I only need it four or five times.”

“Wait. How do you get that in the assisted living community
where you are? I mean…don’t men start to lose… Isn’t it—”

Her grandmother laughed. “I can see you blushing from here,
Bea. The short answer is I have my regulars and Viagra has done wonders for my
health.”

“Oh gosh, I never thought about getting old. How did we
survive all these generations?”

“We didn’t. I am the oldest Rappaccini so far. Aren’t you
the lucky one?”

Though her grandmother said the words in jest, Bea felt her
heart constrict. “I
am
lucky. If I didn’t have you, I wouldn’t know what
was true. I just got off the phone with Mom. I told her I wanted to try in
vitro fertilization.”

“Oh, I bet your mom was excited.”

Bea shook her head. “No, she wasn’t. In fact she freaked. I
don’t get it.”

“Well, blow me over and sweep me under the rug. She’s still
holding out for you to get married.”

“What? How can I marry when I need to have sex with multiple
men?”

Her grandmother’s mumbled words didn’t quite make it through
the phone.

“What did you say?”

“Never mind, dear, I’ll explain your mother to you another
time. So you want to get pregnant to lessen the need to have sex?”

Her grandmother made it sound as if she’d just lost her
mind. “I’m not looking to become a nun or anything. I just can’t keep making
all these men sick. It’s wrong. But I also don’t want to have a child that must
go through what I have to. I can’t do that. I just can’t. Is there any way to
know if my child would have the same genetic poisoning? I mean, it’s been
generations since Giacomo did this to us. Is there any chance my child could be
normal?”

“There’s always a chance, honey. That’s why we’ve all had
daughters. We keep hoping. So how many times do you need to orgasm on a man to
make it a week?”

“Three.” It was her magic number and one she’d lived with
since she’d hit puberty, or rather since Phillip.

“Oh, that’s good. Your mom only needed five, so there is a
good chance your daughter would be none or one.
She
could definitely
have a husband. Oh Lord, just thinking about having a great-granddaughter to
cuddle has got my blood pumping. Are you serious about this, Bea?”

Was she? “I don’t know. It’s a lot to think about.”

“I think— Hold on, honey, there’s someone at my door.”

Bea leaned back in her chair again as she listened. A male voice
could be heard along with her grandmother’s.

“Honey, I have to go. Why don’t you start processing this
and come for a visit so we can talk this out some more. Okay?”

She raised her brow. Since when had her grandmother started
talking like a psychiatrist? Must be one of those lectures they provided for
the people in the retirement community. “Okay, I will. You have fun, Grandma.”

“I plan to, honey.”

Bea smiled as she ended the call. She may not have all the
answers she had hoped for, but talking with her grandmother always made her day
brighter. She couldn’t imagine what it must have been like growing up in the
fifties and sixties with the Rappaccini poison, but Grandma Beatrice had
managed and her mom had too. So did that make her a wimp for feeling bad about
the men she used to survive?

She glanced at the half-eaten donut and on impulse took a
bite. Kayla wouldn’t mind. The sweet grape jelly slid across her tongue like
thick Chambord, reminding her of Zach’s tongue exploring her mouth. She shook
her head to dispel the memory. Since Monday when she met him, she’d been torn.
Her attraction to him had nothing to do with the poisons in her body and
everything to do with him as a person. At least that was her best guess since
she’d never been attracted to a man in that way. Usually she assessed the
available men, eliminated any who had wedding rings and determined who would be
the easiest to get into bed and last the longest. But with Zach, she wanted to
be with him in a way she couldn’t because she didn’t want to hurt him. The fact
was, she didn’t want to hurt anyone anymore.

Every man she had sex with became sick, though she’d never
witnessed the extent of the illness since they were men only in the big city
for conferences. That’s why she traveled so far. She wasn’t anxious to run into
them again after making them ill. Still, she was careful to have no more than
three orgasms with one man. There had to be a way around her predicament. If
there was, she would find it.

With her determination in place, she focused on the scene
outside the inn. She didn’t like what she saw. The sky had turned a stormy
gray, and despite it being just after noon, it looked as if it were dusk. Her
stomach knotted. She had to get up to Tamwick and back before the snow began to
fall.

“Beatrice?”

She started and looked around to find her boss behind her.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you.” Craig Larsen dropped a printout on the desk. “I
think you’re right. I forgot to add the plowing expense for the last month.
It’s been so warm lately, it’s hard to believe we were buried in four feet of
snow a couple weeks ago.”

She pointed to the window and the thickening clouds. “And it
looks as if we might get buried again. I really should head up to the artist’s
place before it gets too bad. This might help delay Ice-Out, but it could also
delay his work on the carving. His tool of choice is a chainsaw.”

“A chainsaw?” Craig’s thin red eyebrows rose in disbelief,
reminding her of a squirrel with an empty nutshell.

“Yes, and I don’t think he’d be willing to start work on it
in the middle of a storm.”

Craig picked up the paper again. “You’re right. Why don’t
you get going? You found the biggest mistake I made with the books. I’m sure I
can find the smaller ones. Thank you for your help with this. I’ll see you
tomorrow.”

“Okay. And don’t forget to tell Kayla she can have Friday
off.”

“Right. Will do.”

No sooner had he left the office than Bea hit the car
starter on her key chain, threw on her wool coat and stuffed her hands into her
black gloves. Grabbing her purse, she strode out the door. She was torn between
her wish to see Zach and her fear of giving in to her attraction for him, which
would only hurt him. She shouldn’t go, but it was her job, at least that’s what
she told herself.

Once the car warmed, she pulled onto the road and headed
north. She glanced up at the darkening sky and gritted her teeth. “Please don’t
snow. Please don’t snow. Please don’t snow.”

She tightened her hands around the steering wheel as she
inspected the windshield for small flakes that might be the harbingers of
larger ones. Though no white dots appeared, the sky was almost dark when she
pulled into Zach’s driveway. Her heart rate sped at the sight of him, causing
her palms to sweat in her warm gloves. The man could only be described as a
work of art in the flesh.

He stood on the front porch of his shop. Had he been waiting
for her? He wore an old black bomber jacket and blue jeans. His blue-and-black
flannel shirt complemented the whole mountain-man look. He was off-limits, a
business associate, too local for a one-night stand and too kind to risk a
relationship with. She had to control herself this time.

As she stepped from her car, he approached. She sensed the
tension in his strides.

“I wasn’t sure you were going to come.”

He’d been worried she wouldn’t return? Her heart melted and
she had to clear her throat. “I’m sorry, Craig kept me longer than I expected.
Do you have the sketches?”

He linked his arm with hers and started to walk her around
the shop. “Yeah, they’re up at the house.”

His touch, despite their respective coats, had her heartbeat
increasing and her body tingling, anticipating his next demand. She pulled away
from him. “You don’t have them here?”

He faced her, the ever-present grin on his face. “No, I
didn’t know what time you would arrive, so I left them in the house. Is that a
problem?”

Bea glanced back at her car. The possibility of going into
his house again shot pure fear as well as need racing through her veins. There
was something about his humble talent and appreciation for nature that had her
heart skipping. She didn’t want to hurt him, but she craved having sex with
him. No, she couldn’t trust herself in his house. “I can wait in my car while
you get them.”

He raised his eyebrow and stared at her. “Why? You have much
better shoes for walking in the woods today and you know it’s not far. Besides,
it’s snowing and I don’t like the thought of you sitting in your car by
yourself.”

She glanced beyond his dark-green eyes to see it had indeed
started snowing, heavily. Damn, she was doomed. A little place inside her
jumped for joy and she squelched it. “Fine, but let’s make this quick. I don’t
want to be driving in this if it gets too deep.”

“Right.” He grabbed her hand and they started walking for
the house.

The warmth of his palm seeped through her glove despite the
fact he’d been outside with his coat unzipped. “Aren’t you cold?”

He chuckled. “Cold? It’s only thirty degrees out. We had
below-zero temperatures this winter. How did you ever survive?”

She shrugged. “I have an automatic car starter to make it
toasty before I get in. Other than that, I stay inside as much as possible.”

He gave her hand a squeeze. “You live up here, but don’t go
outside to enjoy the winter activities?”

She shook her head in response but slowed as they approached
the house, awed by the sight of the snow falling into the valley.

He let her go, allowing her to look her fill.

She sighed. “It’s truly magnificent.”

He smiled. “Oh, you haven’t seen anything yet.”

She tore her gaze from nature’s beauty to look into his eyes
and found appreciation there.

He took her hand again. “Wait ’til you see it from inside.”

She followed him into the basement where they both took off
their outerwear, then went upstairs. She walked to the great windows. The
barren trees already sported a coating of white, but the snow appeared to fall
strictly in the valley and not from the sky since the cloud cover and snow were
the same color.

She sensed him step behind her before his words brushed her
ear. “It’s breathtaking, isn’t it?”

She nodded, not trusting her voice as shivers ran down her
arms and across her chest, sensitizing her breasts. That this rough man could
appreciate the natural beauty was endearing and so sexy.

He remained behind her, not touching, but she was fully
aware of him. He wanted her to be aware. Her muscles tightened as her body
prepared itself for complete capitulation. She swallowed the groan that
threatened to slip from her throat and stepped away. “So, where are the
sketches?”