“Ew. Snails.” She smiled and shuddered. “No worries in that department, I promise.”
“Okay, good.” He finished off the pasty and thought about grabbing another as he watched her move around the kitchen. She sure as hell looked as if she knew what she was doing. Of course, he’d read her references, but tasting what she could do with food was different than reading about it.
He nibbled at the carrot and celery curls, dipping them in the accompanying sauce. She was a good cook, but that didn’t mean she would make it here. Hell, he told himself, look at her.
His gaze locked on her, he noted her delicate but curvy build. Her hair was in a ponytail that swung back and forth across her back like a pendulum with her movements. She was humming something just under her breath and when she opened a cupboard and reached for something, Jericho was treated to a glimpse of very pale, very smooth skin displayed when her blouse hitched up.
His mouth went dry and his blood stirred. Damn, it had been too long since he’d indulged in a long weekend of sweaty sex. And now that that thought had taken root in his mind, he was picturing Daisy Saxon in his bed, that thick, soft hair of hers spread across his pillow. Her smile aimed at him as he moved in for a long, languorous kiss. Her breath sliding from her lungs as he entered her.
Instantly, he shut down that train of thought and squirmed uncomfortably on the bar stool. He didn’t need her here. Didn’t want her here. Couldn’t have her here.
So he was just going to have to get rid of her—fast.
“It’s amazing,” Daisy whispered, almost as if she were in church. She’d awakened early—too many years of getting up and moving in the restaurant business—and after getting dressed, she’d taken Nikki outside to enjoy the mountain quiet. Her little dog was off exploring the yard and all of the shrubbery, leaving Daisy alone in the shadows.
Now, she was standing on the lawn, staring back at the house and realizing that in the pearly morning light, Jericho King’s log and glass mansion looked almost like a fairy-tale castle.
She’d been too busy yesterday finding her way there and then falling on her face to notice much about the place. Her gaze swept over the façade and another murmur of appreciation slipped from between her lips. Wide balconies stretched along the second floor, with arched, twig-style railings. Behind those balconies, glass panels soared, allowing views of the tree-studded mountain and the lake in the distance.
The lodge itself was surrounded by tall pines, and the wind whispering through the branches sounded like sighs.
“It’s a good place, all right.” Jericho’s voice rumbled from right behind her and Daisy jumped.
“I didn’t hear you come up.”
“I walk quietly. Tend to in the woods.” He stared up at the house as dawn painted the honey-colored logs with rosy hues.
She nodded but silently guessed that his stealthiness also came from so many years spent in the military. “Well, it’s so quiet here anyway, it’s as if you’re afraid to make too much noise. I feel almost as if I’m in church or something. In the city,” she said on a sigh, “there’s always noise. Cars, trucks, sirens. Here…stillness.”
“One of the things I like best about it,” he said.
“I can see why,” she agreed. “I get tired of the crowds and the hustle and bustle myself. Somehow everything always seems to be rushed down in the city. Being here is almost like being on vacation!”
“Except for the working aspect,” he said dryly.
“Right.” She nodded and then continued talking. “Anyway, I woke up early and decided to look around a little. I didn’t actually get to see much yesterday and—” She broke off, looked up at him and added, “But I didn’t see anyone else so I thought I was the only one up.”
He laughed shortly, shoved his hands into the pockets of a battered, brown leather bomber jacket and said, “Trust me, everyone’s up.” He turned and pointed across the wide compound at a smaller log version of the main house. “Sam and the guys live there and they’ve got a small kitchen outfitted so they can make coffee or whatever. You won’t see them much in the mornings, but come lunchtime and at dinner, they’ll be crowding around the table like they’re starving.”
“Good,” she said, looking up at him with a determined smile. “I like cooking for people who like to eat.”
“They do,” he told her. “As for right now, they’re all just busy doing the daily chores.”
“Right. Of course.” Foolish, she supposed, to have assumed she’d had the place to herself. But yesterday, all she’d seen was the main house and the barn. She’d never noticed the other building set back against the trees. Now she at least knew why the house had been so empty when she and Nikki had gotten up.
As if the thought of her had conjured the dog from thin air, Nikki barreled across the lawn, charging Jericho with a ferocity belying her size. Her low growl erupted from her tiny chest and when she reached them, she stood in front of Daisy as if daring the big man to hurt her.
Shaking his head at the dog, Jericho said, “You know that’s just coyote bait.”
She gasped, bent down and snatched up her dog. Cradling her close, Daisy stroked a hand down Nikki’s back and shot a nervous glance around her at the surrounding trees. “Don’t say that.”
“Dogs like that don’t belong here,” he told her and his blue eyes were cold and remote. “Hell, it’s small enough it could get carried away by a hawk.”
“Great,” she muttered, looking up. “Now I have to check the skies, too?”
“Wouldn’t be a bad idea,” he said, shooting the still growling dog a look of mutual dislike. Then he shifted his glance to Daisy. “Why are you really here?”
“I told you.”
“Yeah, but you could work anywhere. You’re a good cook.”
“Thanks!” She smiled at him and accepted the casually delivered compliment as if he’d delivered it with a speech and a glass of celebratory champagne.
“So why here?”
Daisy thought about that for a long minute. Wasn’t as if she could tell him why…not exactly, anyway. So she did the best she could and walked a wide circle around the absolute truth. Setting Nikki down on the grass, she stood up and said, “I told you that I wanted a change…”
“Yeah, but this seems like a radical jump to make.”
“Maybe,” she admitted, taking another look at the fantasy lodge draped in sunlight, “but what’s the point in making a change if it’s a safe one? If I just move from one apartment in the city to another? From one restaurant to another? That’s not change. That’s just…ch.”
“What?”
“You know,” she explained, “not a whole change, just a partial one, so a ch.”
He shook his head again and rolled his eyes. “Why here, though?”
“Because you knew my brother,” she blurted, giving him at least that much of the absolute truth. “And because Brant wrote to me about you. He admired you. A lot.”
His features froze up and his eyes went glacial. Daisy had to wonder why.
“He