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I felt very alive.
    Up
this close, the scratches along his jawbone and the awful gash on his neck
loomed before me. But his lips looked soft and inviting, and I wondered if it
would hurt him if my lips touched his. He must have read my mind, because I
watched his gaze travel down my face and stop on my mouth. Clearly, he wasn’t
going to make a move, and I couldn’t fight the attraction any longer. I lifted
my chin towards his face, and his lips parted. Standing on my tip-toes, I
closed my eyes, but at the last possible moment, he cleared his throat and
brushed past me. My eyes popped open in time to see him shaking his head.
    Practically
running towards the door, he said sharply, “This can’t happen.” His hand
brushed his lips. “You should unpack and explore the house. Feel free to help
yourself to anything in the kitchen. I’m sure you’re probably getting hungry.
Besides, I’ve got some things to check on.” With that he closed the door and
was gone.
    Probably
getting hungry? I buried my face in my hands and shook my head. This was one
appetite that nothing in the kitchen was gonna satisfy.

CHAPTER
3 – MORE ANSWERS
     
    Grinding
my teeth, I leaned against the footboard of the gigantic bed and steadied
myself. I slammed my foot into the floor. Damn he was so infuriating! Not to
mention impossible to understand. After a little self-psychotherapy, I pulled
myself together and pushed off from the bed. In need of a little cheer, I
opened the blinds and relished in the warmth that seeped into the room. Beyond
the slider was a nice outdoor living area with gorgeous western views of the
ocean and outlying islands.
    Sunlight
flooded the bedroom, highlighting the oak, antique furniture. Two queen sized
sleigh beds with headboards that stretched almost to the ceiling were placed on
adjacent walls to each other. The footboard I’d been leaning against rose about
three feet above the mattress as well. I’d never seen anything like them
before. They were magnificent, as were the matching antique, oak vanities and
dressers. Beautiful hand-stitched quilts covered the beds and layered a quilt
rack. The walnut colored walls held several framed pictures of real pressed
flowers like pansies, irises, and clematis. One, a huge, yellow Gerbera daisy
was truly spectacular.
    Considering
I felt like I’d stepped back into the Victorian era, I felt strangely at home.
I busied myself unpacking, and shortly thereafter, shoved my suitcase into the
closet. After setting my iPod and a couple books on the nightstand, I texted
Ally and let her know I’d be at the Nelson Retreat for the rest of the week.
She still didn’t know a thing about the hike, which was good. No reason for her
to worry during the next several days.
    I
decided to take Jason’s advice and tour the house. The rooms just down the hall
from mine were all tastefully done in different themes: Mediterranean, Tuscan,
and nautical. I found Jason’s things in the Tuscan-themed room, where oddly
enough, I could almost smell the grapevines of an Italian vineyard. He was
nowhere to be seen, and since my stomach was growling, I decided it was time to
explore the kitchen.
    After
raiding the fridge, I made ham and havarti sandwiches for two and was snooping
around for salsa when I heard Jason slide into a barstool.
    “Hey,
is one of these for me?” he asked in an easy-going tone, as if our little incident
earlier had never occurred.
    “Sure,”
I said just as neutrally and turned around with salsa in one hand and chips in
the other. “Success. Now, I just need to find some fruit to counter balance the
bad.” I slid the salsa and chips across the never ending countertop, and he
caught them.
    “Try
the other refrigerator.” There was a loud pop as he ripped open the bag of
tortilla chips.
    I
found some red grapes and rinsed them in the sink. “So, I’m still wondering
about a lot of things; things I didn’t get a chance to ask when we were all on
the boat yesterday.