Excerpt – J. Arlene Culiner

Suddenly Jace rose to his feet and, in that languid way of his, crossed to the doorway where she stood. Alice was a tallish woman but, still, he towered over her. Casually, stretching out one arm, he rested his hand on the doorframe, just a hair’s breadth above her head. He was close, so close. His body was supple, strong, and—yes, she had to admit it—warm, fragrant. The heat of him reached her over the few inches separating them and she ached to curve into it. Aura? This man was a flesh-and-blood heatwave.

The strange, tingling excitation was flowing through her again like thick port wine. She lowered her eyes, refusing to meet his gaze, although she knew he was, once again, examining her minutely.
“And I want to take the room.”

“Look, you don’t need my room,” she said, desperation evident in her tone. “There’s a perfectly reasonable motel the other side of the Winterback Mine, out in the direction of Logan. Actually, it’s far better equipped to take in tourists than anything you’d find here in Blake’s Folly.”

“I know. Rider Motel. Air conditioning, closed-circuit television. Right across from the Dew Drop Inn.” His smile was wry. “That’s exactly where I’ve been staying for the last three nights. And over and over again during those three nights, I remembered Blake’s Folly and the ‘room to let’ sign on your wall. And the more I thought about it, the more appealing it got. There’s nothing worse than an impersonal motel room when you have to stay in an area for a while.” He paused, let his eyes wander over the faded wooden framing, over the settee on the veranda. “Right here, it feels more like home.”

That wasn’t it, she knew. That wasn’t even part of the truth. He was back because something hot and wonderful shimmered between them. Did she fascinate him as much as he did her? Possibly. Although she hadn’t done anything to encourage him, not even once. It would have been hard to find anyone less friendly than she’d been.

Still, there was something about him that touched her, something that had nothing to do with raw desire. Was it the warmth in his eyes? A quirk to his lips that promised humor and understanding? Or was it just plain magic, the magic that happens when the right female meets the right male? Whatever it was, she’d been unsuccessful in putting him out of her head for days

She knew she was softening.

He must have sensed that too, and he pushed his point further. “Everyone, or almost everyone, needs the feeling there’s a home somewhere. I’m sure you understand that.”

She nodded slowly, reluctance fighting with sympathy. “What are you doing in the area?”
And immediately felt the flush crossing her cheeks. She didn’t want to be interested in him. She wanted to blot him out. She’d opened her mouth, intending to refuse him, but the question had popped out instead. And that had opened the door to conversation. He’d realized it too, and she could almost feel his body relax with relief.

“I’m working on a book on the Old West, so I’ll be poking around the area for a while.”

Alice couldn’t help smiling. “Blake’s Folly’s a great place for history. Lucy Warner’s pig gave birth to fifteen piglets once. That was back in thirty-two, I think.”

His eyes met hers evenly. “Nineteen thirty-three. The fifth of August. A hot month for hard work like that.” He gave a short laugh. “Nothing important gets past us serious researchers.”

Suddenly there was a loud thump followed by a wild scraping of claws. Seconds later, a huge black dog thrust itself past Alice and threw itself against Jace, almost knocking him backward.

“Killer! Down!”

Killer wriggled like an eel, danced a doggie jig on the veranda floor, and still managed to stare up at Jace with supplication. He was ecstatic.

Jace bent down and gingerly patted Killer’s head, then looked back up at Alice with slight embarrassment.

“Normally I never pat dogs. I never understood why anyone would want to.” He observed Killer again. “There’s pure adoration in his eyes. It gets to me, somehow.”

Killer nestled in closer, wagging his long, seedy-looking tail wildly, and Jace patted him again, this time with more tenderness.

Alice felt herself relenting. She loved animals—any animal: dogs, cats, rabbits. And snakes.

And this man was touching her too much. Far too much. She had to bring her defenses back into play. “That isn’t the way a dog normally reacts when he meets a total stranger.”

Jace met her semblance of hostility with his limpid green gaze. “I’m not a total stranger. I fed him my packed lunch the other day, remember?” He looked down at Killer, grinned ruefully. “I still didn’t know why I stopped for him. Anyway, we’ve been through all this already. And, as I said, I’m here about the room.”