The Charmer (6 page)

“No,” Tenley replied. “You don’t have to say things like that to me. I don’t need reassurance. I wanted that as much as you did.”

“I’m just telling you what I think,” Alex said. “You don’t take compliments well, do you?”

“No,” she said. “They make me…uncomfortable.”

“Personally, I love compliments,” he teased.

She poured milk into a pan and set it on the stove. The burner flamed blue and she turned it to a low simmer. “I think you have nice eyes,” she said. “And I like your mouth.”

“Thank you,” he replied. “I like your mouth, too.”

“Thank you,” she said.

“See, that wasn’t so bad.”

“The key to making good hot chocolate is in the chocolate. You have to use real cocoa and sugar, not those powdered mixes.”

He sat down on a stool and wrapped the quilt more tightly around him. “I was always of the opinion that marshmallows were the key. You can’t use the small ones. You have to use the big ones. They melt slower.”

Tenley opened a cabinet above the stove and pulled
out a bag of jumbo marshmallows, then tossed them at him. “I totally agree. Bigger is better.”

“Oh, another compliment. Thank you.”

She giggled. “You’re welcome.” Tenley turned back to the stove and Alex got up and circled around the island to stand behind her. He wrapped the quilt around her, pulling her body back against his. Just watching her move had made him hard again.

She tipped her head as he pressed his lips to her neck. “Why do you smell so good? What is that?”

“Soap?” she said. “Shampoo.”

“I like it.” The women he’d known had always smelled like a perfume counter. But Tenley smelled clean and fresh. He closed his eyes and drew a deep breath, trying to commit the scent to memory. “I’m glad you came into my room,” he whispered.

She turned to face him, then pushed up on her toes and gently touched her lips to his. “It’s too cold to sleep alone.” Tenley brushed his hair out of his eyes and smiled. “Cocoa. I need cocoa.”

After she’d retrieved a container from a nearby cabinet, Tenley measured out the cocoa and stirred it into the milk, before adding a generous handful of sugar. Then she picked up the pan and poured the steaming drinks into two huge mugs that were nearly full of marshmallows.

“Let’s sit by the fire,” she said, grabbing the mugs.

Alex followed her, spreading the quilt out on the floor in front of the hearth. She seemed just as comfortable naked as she did clothed, stretching out on her stomach and offering him a tempting view of her backside.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

She took a sip of her hot chocolate, then licked the melted marshmallow from her upper lip. “Relaxing?”

“That’s not what I meant. I meant, here, all alone, in this cabin. Why isn’t there someone here with you?”

She rolled over and sat up. “Like a roommate?”

“Like a man,” he said.

“I like being alone. I don’t really need a man.” She paused. “Not that I don’t enjoy having you here.”

The words were simple and without a doubt, the truth. “I can always head back out into the storm, if you’d rather be alone,” he offered.

“No. It’s nice to have company every now and then.”

“Someone to talk to?”

“Someone to touch,” she said. Tenley reached out and placed her hand on his chest. “Aren’t there times when you crave physical contact?” She paused. “Never mind. I suppose you just go find a woman when that happens, right? Men have it easy. No one questions your need for sex.”

“And they question yours?”

“Not they. Me. I guess that comes with being a female. We aren’t supposed to want it like men do.”

“And do you want it?” Alex asked.

“I’m not afraid to admit that I enjoy it,” she said. “Sex makes me feel…alive.”

“Good to know,” Alex said. He took her mug from her hand and set it down on the floor, then cupped her face in his hands. “You are the strangest girl I’ve ever met.”

“Weird strange?”

“Fascinating strange,” he replied.

He gently pushed her back until she lay on the quilt. Tenley stretched her arms over her head, her body arching sinuously beneath his touch. Taking his time, he traced a line from her neck to her belly with his lips.

He knew how to bring a woman to the edge and back again, and he wanted to do that for Tenley. His fingers found the damp spot between her legs. She responded immediately, her body arching, her breath coming in shallow gasps.

And when his mouth found that sensitive spot, she cried out in surprise. But Alex took his time. He’d always been a considerate lover, but sex had been about his pleasure first. It wasn’t that way with Tenley. He wanted to make it memorable for her.

After he was gone, Alex needed to know he would be the standard by which other men in her life might be judged. It was silly, but for some strange reason, it made a difference to him. He wanted her to remember what they shared and continue to crave it.

Her fingers slipped through his hair and he felt her losing control. Alex slowed his pace, determined to make her feel something that she’d never experienced before. Her drew her close, tempting her again and again. She whispered his name in a desperate plea to give her what she wanted.

The sound of her voice was enough to arouse him and to Alex’s surprise, he found himself dancing near the edge. He shifted, the friction of the quilt causing a delicious frisson of pleasure to race through him. Gathering
his resolve, Alex brought her close again. But this time, it was too much for her.

When he drew back, she couldn’t help herself. Tenley moaned, her body tense. An instant later, her orgasm consumed her, her body trembling and shuddering. It was enough to drive him over the edge. Startled, Alex joined her.

He rolled over on his back. This was crazy. He felt like a teenager, with nothing more than his imagination and a little friction standing between him and heaven. Throwing his arm over his eyes, he waited for the last of his own spasms to subside.

“That was a surprise,” he murmured. Alex rolled to his side and kissed her hip.

“I’ve never really liked surprises, until now.”

Alex knew how she felt. From the moment she’d rescued him from the snowbank, he’d learned to expect the unexpected from Tenley. He closed his eyes and pressed his face into the soft flesh at her waist. Forget the vacation. Spending time with Tenley was all the adventure he needed.

T
ENLEY OPENED
her eyes to the early morning light. An incessant beeping penetrated her hazy mind and she pushed up on her elbow to survey the room.

After making love in front of the fire, they’d wrapped themselves in the quilt and fallen asleep on the floor. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept so soundly and for such a long stretch of time.

She sat up and glanced over her shoulder at Alex. He
was a beautiful man, tall and lean and finely muscled. And he knew what he was doing in bed—and on the floor, too. A shiver skittered through her as she remembered the passion they’d shared.

She’d never experienced anything quite so powerful. Usually she used sex to forget. But she remembered every little detail of what she’d shared with Alex, from the way his hands felt on her skin to the taste of his mouth to the soft sound of his voice whispering her name. She felt safe with him, as if she didn’t need to pretend.

It had taken so much energy to keep her emotions in check and now, she finally felt as if she might be able to let go, to find a bit of enjoyment in life…in Alex. Tenley didn’t know what it all meant, but she knew it felt right.

As she studied his features, she wondered about the women he normally dated. A man like Alex Stamos wouldn’t lack for female company. There were probably hundreds of women waiting outside his door, hoping to enjoy exactly what she had last night.

The beeping continued and she crawled around him to find his watch lying on the hearth. Tenley picked it up and, squinting in the low light, tried to turn off the alarm. But when she couldn’t find the right button, she got to her feet and carried it into the kitchen. With the soft curse, she opened the refrigerator door and put it inside.

This is exactly why she hated clocks. Simple, inanimate objects in control of a person’s life! Was there anything more obnoxious? Well, maybe television.
She didn’t own one of those either. She preferred a good book. Although, there were times when she wished she could watch a movie or check out the weather station.

Rubbing her arms against the cold, Tenley returned to their makeshift bed, ready to slip back beneath the covers and wake him up slowly. It was so easy to relax around him, to just be herself without any of the baggage that came along with her past. Everyone within a thirty-mile radius of Sawyer Bay knew about her past. She couldn’t walk down the streets of town without someone sending her a pitying look.

She knew what they were saying about her. That she’d never recovered from the tragedy. That she deliberately pushed people away because she blamed herself. It was all true. Tenley was acutely aware of what she’d become. But that didn’t make it any easier to forget her part in what had happened. Nor did she feel like changing just to make everyone else more comfortable. It was simply easier to keep people at a distance.

Alex was different. For the first time in her adult life, she wanted to get closer. If Tenley had the power, she’d make the storm go on for another week or two so they could be stranded in this cabin a little longer. There would be quiet afternoons, making love in front of the fire. And then never-ending nights, when sleep could come without dreams.

There was a way to keep him close, Tenley mused. If she accepted his proposal to publish her graphic novel then they’d have an excuse to see each other every so
often. Maybe he’d make regular trips up to Door County to see her and they could enjoy these sexual encounters three or four times a year.

Tenley smiled to herself. It was the closest she’d ever come to a committed relationship. But in that very same moment, she realized the risk she’d be taking. Cursing softly, she turned away and walked through the cabin to her room.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she muttered to herself as she pulled on her clothes. She and Alex Stamos had absolutely nothing in common, beyond her novel and one night of great sex. What made her think he’d even want a relationship?

He probably had his choice of women in Chicago. Why would he choose to carry on with her? It was a prescription for heartbreak, Tenley mused. She’d make the mistake of falling in love with him, living for the times they could be together, and one day, he’d tell her it was over.

She’d learned how to protect herself from that kind of pain and it wouldn’t do to forget those lessons now. Alex was a momentary fling, just like all the other men in her life. She could enjoy him for as long as he stayed, but after that, she’d move on.

As for her novel, it would be best to put an end to that right away. Though a little extra money might be nice, she certainly didn’t need the pressure to produce another story.

Tenley tiptoed back out into the great room and found her boots and jacket near the back door. The dogs were waiting and, when she was bundled against
the cold, she slipped outside, into the low light of dawn. She bent down and gave them both a rough scratch behind the ears. Pup, the larger of the two, gave her a sloppy kiss on the cheek. And Dog pushed his nose beneath her hand, searching for a bit more affection.

“Go,” she said, motioning them off the porch. They ran down the steps and into the snow, leaping and chasing and wrestling with each other playfully. The wind was still blowing hard, the snow stinging her face. She tipped her head back and looked into the sky, still gray and ominous.

A memory flashed in her mind and she remembered the sky on the day she and Tommy had set off on their sail. The image was so vivid it was like a photograph. A storm had taken her brother away. And now another storm had brought Alex into her life. The forces of nature were powerful and uncontrollable.

Was that what this was about? Was nature giving her back what she’d lost all those years ago? She drew a deep breath of the cold air. She’d never believed in fate or karma but she couldn’t help but wonder why Alex had suddenly appeared in her life. A few minutes one way or the other, a different day or time, and they never would have met at all. Another shiver skittered down her spine and she started off across the yard.

The barn was set fifty yards from the house, a simple wooden structure painted the traditional red. Attached to one corner was a tower that rose nearly three stories off the ground. Her grandfather had built it as a studio,
with four walls made of windows to take in the views of the woods and the bay.

Tenley slogged through the snow to the barn door and retrieved a shovel. She cleared off the stairs to the studio, then stepped inside to escape the icy wind. The stairwell was as cold as the weather outside, but when she opened the door to the room at the top of the stairs, it was pleasantly cozy.

Dropping her jacket at the door, she walked to the wall of windows facing the lake. The snow was still coming down so hard, she wasn’t able to see more than a hundred yards beyond the barn.

With a soft sigh, she sat down at the huge drawing table in the center of the room. Her grandfather’s easels had moved to town with him, but he’d left his drawing table, in hopes she’d find a use for it.

She and her grandfather had always been close. After Tommy’s death, he’d been the only one she could stand to be around. And after her grandmother had died, Tenley had taken over the duties of running the business end of the gallery, a job her grandmother had done since their wedding day.

She did most of her business over the phone and, when customers came in the front door, her grandfather usually greeted them. He hated the details of running the gallery and she avoided the customers. It had been a good arrangement. If she weren’t working for him, he’d have to hire someone at a much higher salary. All Tenley needed was enough to buy food and clothes and feed for her animals.

She sifted through the sketches scattered over the surface. Her work was a mishmash of genres and media. A pen-and-ink drawing of a hummingbird, a pastel landscape, a watercolor self-portrait. She’d never been to art school, so she’d never really discovered what she was good at.