Read Wintermoon Ice (2010) for Free Online Page B

magical views of the Aegean Sea that you just knew were digitally enhanced.
    "Welcome to the neighborhood. I brought you a pie." Tessa had somehow forgotten that he didn't know her name, or the fact that she owned the house in which they stood. The door opened a little wider, and she stepped across the threshold into the kitchen.
    He swept the blond mane away from his forehead and tied it in an untidy knot at the nape of his neck. Her eyes involuntarily fixed on his hands. They were big -- squarish and sturdy looking, attached to sinewy wrists that seemed to crackle with tensile strength and energy. Tessa thought, irrelevantly, that writers didn't usually have hands like that -- hands that looked like they had been hauling fishing nets only a minute before.
    He spoke, and the spell was broken. "Thank you for the pie."
    Tessa jumped and almost dropped her welcoming gift. "You! You were the one -- on Water Street ."
    It must have sounded funny, what she said, because Jakob Faircrow laughed.
    That made her even angrier. "So you think it is amusing, do you? Shouting abuse at women who are walking home, minding their own business? Why, I have a good mind to shove this pie right in your..."
    He took a quick step backwards and tried to mollify her. "If you like, I will make some coffee, then we could eat a piece of your pie and I could explain why I did that."
    She frowned. "I don't think there is anything you could say to
explain
, but I suppose you could apologize. That would be a start."
    He took the pie from her and placed it on the table. "All right. I am sorry I shouted at you, Tessa." His tone was more amused than contrite.
    As he turned his back to her, and filled the kettle, Tessa considered that this didn't sound quite right. At first, she thought it might be because Jakob Faircrow's clothing was so very odd. He wore a flowing, hip-length shirt that she could have sworn was made of pure linen and hand-smocked to boot. Something she could imagine an eighteenth century buccaneer might have worn. His odd, knee-length trousers and wooden soled clogs seemed perfectly in keeping with the rest. No wonder Joe had thought he was an actor.
    Jakob turned back towards her, and placed a couple of mismatched tea plates and mugs on the table. It had laces in the front, that ridiculous shirt. Tessa tried to ignore the glimpse of red-gold hair that curled in the hollow of his throat.
    Realization struck. "How in the hell do you know my name?"
    He gave her an easy grin as he spooned instant coffee into the mugs. "Captain Romine told me the owner of this house was a pretty girl named Tessa Kivelson. He also said she would come round eventually and bring me a plate of something nice to eat."
    "Oh did he?" Tessa grimaced at the thought she might be so predictable, and traced a faded flower on the oilcloth table cover with her fingertip.
    "Yes, he did. But as a matter of fact I already knew your name." He cut the pie without explaining this provocative statement further and placed a wedge on each of the plates. Then he poured boiling water into the coffee and handed her a mug. "You take milk but no sugar, right?" Jakob raised a questioning eyebrow.
    Tessa, left somewhat speechless by this effortless familiarity, could only nod and watch admiringly as he crossed the floor to a tiny refrigerator and retrieved a pottery jug shaped like a cow. Though Joe had been right about her new tenant being very tall, still he moved with an economical grace that made the cramped attic feel even more like a ship's cabin.
    He sat across from her at the table and ate half the pie, punctuated with liberal gulps of coffee, before he said anything else. Tessa watched him, half-appalled and half-gratified by his appetite. Jakob pushed his plate away with a satisfied sigh and said, "That was very good. I have not had pie like that since my mother..."
    He stood quickly and cleared the dishes from the table. By the time he returned from the sink, his expression had