“Ow!”
Maggie sat back, one of the pieces of pottery in her left hand and a small shard sticking out of a finger on the opposite hand. A drop of blood formed around the tip.
“Maggie, take a breath.” Nate took her hand gently in his. “Are you sure coffee was a good idea?” He chuckled as he concentrated on her finger, pinching the fragment between his thumb and forefinger. “Perhaps decaf next time, hmmm?”
He pulled out the shard, but it had gone deeper than he expected and the drop of blood turned into a substantial streak.
“Do you have a first-aid kit?”
Her voice was subdued. “Of course I do. Under the sink in the bathroom.”
He rose and headed for the stairs.
“The one over there. In my living quarters.”
He stopped and looked at the closed door leading off the kitchen. She had wrapped a napkin around the finger and stood up, taking the larger pieces of the mug and placing them gently on the table.
“I’ll get it,” she said.
“No, you sit tight. I will.”
Nate changed direction and went through the door, feeling somehow like he was trespassing. This was crazy. Less than six hours here and he was flirting with the owner and wandering around her private living space. He went into the bathroom, surprised by the scent of cinnamon and apples coming from a scented oil dispenser plugged into the wall. Switching on a light, he was bathed in an intimate glow—no blaring bulbs here. Soothing blue and deep red splashes of color accented the ivory decor. Nate felt very much like he was intruding.
He searched the small vanity cupboard until he found a white box with a red cross on the top. He shut off the light and went back to the kitchen, where he found Maggie at the sink, the napkin off her finger as she ran it beneath cold water. She lifted it out of the stream and looked at it closely in the soft light from above the sink.
“I think all of it came out,” she explained. “What a klutz I am.”
“Not at all.” Nate sat the kit down on the counter and flipped open the lid. “It’s not deep, so you just need a small bandage.”
“I can get it, truly.”
“You’re right handed, aren’t you? Putting it on lefty would be awkward. I’ve got two capable hands.”
Maggie looked down at his fingers holding the bandage. Capable indeed. His hands were wide, with long tapering fingers. She swallowed, but held out her finger anyway.
The sound of the paper wrapper tearing off the bandage echoed through the kitchen. Nate stepped closer, anchoring one sticky end and then holding her hand before wrapping the rest around and sticking it to itself. Her heart pounded painfully; she was sure he could hear it as he applied the small wrap.
“All better,” he said softly.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
He started to pull his hand away, but for a long moment his fingertips stayed on hers. She lifted her eyes to his and found him watching her steadily. Oxygen seemed scarce as she fell entranced by his intense eyes, the shape of his lips. Lips that leaned in ever so slightly.
“You’re welcome.” And he lifted her finger to his lips and kissed the tip.
CHAPTER THREE
NATE flipped through the channels aimlessly. There really wasn’t going to be much to do here in the evenings, especially when the days were still fairly short. At the end of March, this far north, it was full dark early in the evening. Whatever work he did, it would be during the day. It was becoming very clear that after dinner he’d either spend his time here, in the den, or upstairs in his room reading or working online.
He’d rather be upstairs, putting his thoughts together, but on the off-chance that Maggie might come in, he stayed.
He had questions, ones whose answers could get him started in the right direction. Not to mention the fact that he’d enjoyed their little interplay in the kitchen earlier. It had been a long time since he’d indulged in a little harmless flirtation.
Maggie entered with a coffee carafe and mugs on a tray. She put them down on the coffee table. “I thought you might like some coffee,” she offered. “I made a fresh pot and promise not to break any more mugs.” She smiled tentatively.
The brew smelled wonderful and Nate brushed aside the thought that he’d be up all night if he drank too much of it. He wasn’t about to refuse the gesture. If nothing else, it would give him more time with her, and that wasn’t a hardship. “That would be wonderful.” When she poured the first cup, he nodded to the second. “Are you joining me?”
She smiled. “If you like.”
Nate looked up into her eyes. They were warm and friendly with something more. Perhaps a shy invitation, definitely a quiet curiosity. “I would like.” He returned her smile. “It’s quiet. The company would be nice.”
Maggie took her own cup and sat, not on the sofa next to him, but in a nearby chair. Nate was taking up the couch and she was far too aware of him to sit next to him. In the winter months, this room became the family room, and she often snuggled up on the couch with a blanket and a DVD. In season, it was where the guests went to relax.
Normally she didn’t socialize with her guests, either. But normally her guests didn’t travel alone at the end of winter. She was accustomed to guests traveling in pairs. A romantic getaway, or a stop on the way to somewhere else. Very rarely did she have singles, and when she did, it was nearly always in prime season when they were out exploring the area or the nearby Rockies, or when other guests were present to facilitate conversation.
But Nate was definitely here alone. She’d noticed the absence of a wedding ring at dinner.
“This gives me a chance to pick your brain,” he was saying, and she stopped staring at his hands and paid attention. The tingling sensation that he was more than he seemed prickled once more.
“Pick my brain?”
“About things to do while I’m here.”
She exhaled slowly. Just tourist information, then. She’d had the uncomfortable feeling after their interchange in the kitchen that he was about to get personal. “Well, there are always day trips into the mountains. I have pamphlets, but there are lots of winter activities there.” She crossed her legs, adopting the tour-guide voice she used with guests. “Or a few hours either northeast or south will take you to major cities for shopping, the arts, whatever you want.”
“I meant more locally. What I can do with Mountain Haven as my base.” Nate put down his cup and leaned forward slightly. He wasn’t going to let her off the hook, it seemed.
Maggie swallowed. His voice was deep and a little rough; it rumbled with soft seduction through the room. The remembrance of her finger against his lips rippled through her.
“We’re…we’re usually closed this time of year. I’m afraid I haven’t given it much thought.”
“I see.” He looked down into his cup, frowning, then took a drink.
“But…I have some personal gear I could loan you.” His disappointment in her answer was clear and she instantly regretted being so cool. She punctuated the offer with a soft smile.
“Personal gear?”
Maggie hesitated. She knew that out in the shed she’d find Tom’s things—cross-country skis, snowshoes, even his old hockey skates. They’d been out there over fifteen years, and she’d never had the heart to throw them away.
But holding on to them didn’t make much sense anymore. For the last several years, she’d nearly forgotten they were even there. If Nate could get some use out of them, why shouldn’t he?