Unforgettable

Still, he couldn’t afford to lose their business—any business, for that matter, and he assumed that they were part of the Zoe Wilder festivities this weekend—and he certainly couldn’t afford to displease that group. He frowned at the grim reminder. The ramifications were simply too horrible to contemplate. Lex finally jerked his head in an affirmative nod. The woman clearly had been terrified. Hell, she’d fainted, hadn’t she? Knowing that, he could hardly allow the dog to run free.

“I’m truly sorry,” Lex told her. “It won’t happen again.”

She swung her legs off the couch, sat up and gingerly massaged her temples. A leaf fell out of her hair and bits of dirt and debris clung to her beige sweater and matching pants. A pair of identical paw prints stamped her chest.

“Don’t worry about it,” she said wearily in a soft throaty voice that brought to mind rumpled sheets and naked limbs. Unbelievably, white-hot lust licked at Lex’s veins, stirred in his loins. An adorable blush staining her cheeks, she swiped at some of the damage. “No, uh, lasting harm done.”

Lex slowly released a pent-up breath. Thankfully, she seemed more embarrassed than pissed off, and that worked to his advantage. “How about we get you checked in? See if we at Oak Crest can redeem ourselves.”

Seemingly relieved that all was right with…Faith, if he remembered correctly, the friend stuck out her hand. “An excellent idea. I’m Trudy Weaver, Mr. Ellenburg. We’ve spoken many times.”

The tentative smile that had curled his lips froze as she pumped his outstretched hand. A litany of inventive, rapid-fire curses streamed through his stalled brain. His gaze darted back and forth between the two women and he experienced a moment of uncomfortable panic. If this was Trudy Weaver, Lex thought, then that—the woman she’d called Faith—must be Faith Bonner, the famous author he was counting on to help his lodge squeak through another season.

What with all the corporately owned chains popping up on his side of the mountain, Lex’s mom-and-pop business had taken a beating. He didn’t know how much longer he could hold on, but the idea of selling out—or giving up—simply wasn’t an option. He’d already refused two very generous offers, both of which had come from an anonymous party. Regardless, Lex hadn’t even been tempted. His grandfather had built this lodge. Had logged the lumber himself.

In addition, his dad had practically killed himself—he’d died of a heart attack year before last, while patching a spot on the roof—trying to maintain it. Too much Ellenburg sweat, blood and tears had gone into this place to let it go belly-up now. So long as there was breath left in his body Lex wouldn’t sell. He had to make things work. Still…

Of all the guests Beano might have bowled over, it had to be her.

Oh, hell.

“Er, it’s nice to finally meet you,” Lex eventually managed to say. What a damn nightmare. He sucked in a slow breath and waited expectantly for an introduction to confirm his grim suspicions.

Smiling, she gestured to Faith. “This is Faith Bonner. Faith is going to take a couple of days to relax while you and I work out the final details of the To Catch a Thief event.”

Lex nodded, glanced at the woman in question and offered a tongue-in-cheek smile. “Well, despite recent evidence to the contrary, Oak Crest is a great place to relax. There’s something for everyone here.”

Faith wore a bemused expression, continued to stare at him until the silence stretched beyond the comfortable and Lex began to wonder if maybe he had something stuck in his teeth. Those melted-caramel orbs lingered until he had to forcibly quell the urge to squirm, which he was strongly tempted to do anyway because every hair on his body stood on end when she looked at him. It was truly bizarre, this reaction he had to her. It was almost as if he knew her. As if some part of him recognized her. But that wasn’t possible.

“Er…” Trudy’s slightly distressed gaze bounced between them, then, thankfully, she moved to fill the odd silence. “I’m sure she’ll love it here.” She bustled Faith toward the reception desk. “What say we get checked in, shall we?”

Seemingly blinking out of a trance, Faith cast him a sheepish glance and her pale complexion brightened with pink color. “R-right.”

Praying that no other disasters would befall them before he got them checked in and safely escorted to their rooms, Lex made quick work of the process. In short order, though Faith had continued to stare at him through the corner of her eye and not-so-covertly study him during the entire curiously stressful process, Lex finally booked the two women into a couple of his nicest rooms.

Then he went to the kitchen with the intention of downing a beer—he’d undoubtedly earned it after that bizarre episode—but swiftly substituted a soda for the alcohol after a stern look from his uncle.

George’s lined face folded into a frown. “What’s the problem?”

The problem? Lex thought with a silent laugh. Would that there were only one. Regrettably, he’d just added one more to a list of many, and this one was startlingly disturbing—he’d fallen instantly in lust with Faith Bonner. There could be no other explanation for his persistent hard-on, or his acute fascination with her mouth, or the overwhelming case of gooseflesh still pebbling his skin.

Nevertheless, he couldn’t imagine sharing that little tidbit with his uncle, so instead he related the Beano incident. “I’ve put him out back,” Lex told him, finishing the tale. “But I know he’s going to hate it.”

George rubbed his bristled chin. “Yeah, well, not as bad as you’ll hate it if that fancy author and her weird fans take their business elsewhere.” He nodded curtly. “Beano’ll be all right. It’s just for a few days.”

Lex inclined his head. Leave it to George to sum it up so succinctly. His uncle had strong opinions and didn’t mind sharing them whether asked or not. Lex grinned. It was part of George’s charm. He was a little rough around the edges, but Oak Crest wouldn’t be the same without him. Couldn’t function without him, truth be told.

The minute his mother had retired to Florida—it had been too painful for her to remain at the lodge after his father died—George had set up shop in the kitchen and, in Lex’s opinion, there wasn’t a finer cook on this side of the mountain. He didn’t know what he’d do without him and, thankfully, wouldn’t ever have to find out. George was as much a part of the lodge now as the timbers that held it together.

Which was all the more reason why Lex had to keep it afloat. Too many people depended on him, George included. Lex shot a dark look at his crotch—at the hard-on that wouldn’t end. Rather than worrying about gorgeous Faith Bonner with her porn-star lips, he should probably try to concentrate on keeping a roof over their heads, he thought, disgusted.

SWEET HEAVEN, Faith thought, instantly calling Lex Ellenburg’s image to the forefront of her mind, he looked just like Nash.

Just. Like. Nash.

Her heart tripped an unsteady beat in her chest, and forcing air into her shallow lungs was proving to be damn near impossible. Her stomach somersaulted, did a few other gymnastic moves guaranteed to make her insides alternately soar and plummet. Her hands shook and her mouth grew parched.

He had the same coal-black hair and ice-blue eyes, the dimple in one lean cheek and that sexy cleft in his chin. Even the thin jagged scar that slashed across his temple. He was impossibly tall and broad shouldered, built like a Greek god, which seemed appropriate because she was more than willing to physically worship him…and certainly wouldn’t mind offering herself up as a sacrifice, either.

The man had every single physical trait she’d given Nash Austin more than four years ago. It absolutely astounded her. Blew her mind.

When she’d first opened her eyes and he’d been leaning over her…Faith gave a delicate shiver. Her foolish heart had leaped with joy and every single cell in her body had sung in recognition of him. Need had broadsided her, overwhelming and insistent, achy and hot.

And then reality had intruded in the form of her nearly weeping, overly dramatic assistant, and Faith’s memory had returned full force. The dream had receded, making her feel like a complete and total moron.

Honestly, it hadn’t been bad enough that she’d had to faint, make a fool of herself. No, she’d had to do it up nicely, blink drunkenly at him and whisper “Nash” like a lovesick fool. Where was a good crater when you needed one? Faith wondered, her face flushing with renewed embarrassment.

She’d taken one look at that big black dog—totally harmless, according to both Lex and Trudy—and she’d screamed and fainted like a ravished virgin in a bad B movie. One bad experience with a dog and she’d been scarred for life. Faith hated the weakness, hated the character flaw. Dogs were supposed to be man’s best friend. Just because she’d had an unfortunate run-in with a bipolar Chihuahua twenty years ago shouldn’t make her so damn phobic about them now.

“So what do you think of the place?” Trudy asked. “Nice, huh?”

Faith nodded, made a concerted effort to focus on her friend. Trudy had gone to a lot of trouble to make this a memorable weekend for her and her fans. The least she could do was show a little enthusiasm. “It’s lovely.”

Trudy had been admiring the view from the window, but turned to face her. A concerned line creased her brow and a cloud of worry darkened her hazel eyes. “Are you sure you’re okay? You took quite a fall.”

“Positive.” Faith shot her a sheepish look. “I can’t believe I fainted.” She rolled her eyes, rubbed an imaginary wrinkle from between her own brows. “God, how embarrassing.” She exhaled mightily, dropped onto the foot of the bed and fell back.

Trudy’s eyes twinkled. She crossed her arms over her chest and rocked back lightly on her heels. “It was positively dramatic.”

Faith humphed under her breath. “Great.”

“Particularly the way Mr. Ellenburg raced around the building, then scooped you up in his powerful arms and brought you inside. He’d been quite worried, you know.”

Faith snorted indelicately. “I imagine the word lawsuit was flashing through his head.”

Trudy toed her shoes off and sank into one of the big cushy chairs positioned in front of the window. She hummed thoughtfully under her breath. “That was not the impression I got.”

Her silly heart did a cartwheel. “Oh?”

“There was definitely something else at work there,” Trudy said consideringly. “His eyes seemed magnetized to your body…as were his hands. He did a thorough search.”

Heat flared in her belly and her head whipped around to where Trudy sat. “What?”

“Not to worry,” Trudy chuckled. “He didn’t molest you…but I wouldn’t mind him checking me over for broken bones.” She gave a misty sigh. “It was very romantic.”

So he’d felt her up and she didn’t even have the pleasure of remembering it? Faith thought, unreasonably disappointed. Well, wasn’t that just par for the course? A great-looking guy had his hands all over her, swept her into his arms and carried her to safety—a truly heroic moment, probably the only one she’d ever have in her life—and she had absolutely no recall of it whatsoever.

Damn.

Trudy slid her a sly glance. “He wasn’t the only one who seemed intrigued. You, for instance, couldn’t keep your eyes off him.”

Faith knew she should offer some token protest, but couldn’t muster the effort. What was the point? Her gaze had been glued to him like flypaper, as the rest of her would have been if she’d let herself. She’d been utterly fascinated by him. Hadn’t been able to help herself. She shot her friend a slightly embarrassed look. “I know,” she admitted. “But doesn’t he remind you of someone?”

Surely she wasn’t the only one who saw it, Faith thought. The resemblance was so strong that anyone who was familiar with her work should be able to spot it. Trudy most definitely should.

Her friend seemed to consider the question for a moment, then to Faith’s astonishment, she shook her head. “No, I can’t say that he does.”

“Think, Trudy,” Faith pressed, rolling over onto her side. “Black hair, blue eyes, scar at the temple. Sound familiar?”

Trudy gave her a blank look. “Should it?”

Annoyed, she sat up. Good grief. Trudy critiqued for her, proofread. How could she not know? “Yes,” Faith said, thoroughly exasperated.

Trudy offered a small shrug. “Sorry, honey. I’m lost.”

If she wasn’t reading her books any closer than that, she might be fired, Faith thought ominously. “Trudy,” she said with exaggerated patience. “He looks like Nash.”

Trudy’s perplexed expression was not comforting. “Nash?”

“Yes, Nash.”

She gave her head a small shake. “No, he doesn’t.”

“Yes, he does,” Faith insisted. “Black hair, blue eyes, and the scar. He’s tall, dark and handsome. He’s Nash,” she insisted.

“Well, he’s not how I pictured Nash,” Trudy said skeptically. “Not how I pictured him at all.”

Faith blinked. “He’s not?”

“No.” She chuckled under her breath, cocked her head and assessed her with an annoyingly shrewd gleam that made Faith want to alternately scream and squirm. “But it’s funny that you think he does, isn’t it?”

Funny? Faith thought. No, it was many things…but funny wasn’t one of them. Disconcerting, unsettling, angst-inspiring, a wee bit thrilling and possibly disastrous. But funny?

Nuh-uh.

3

“IS THERE ANYTHING ELSE?” Lex asked. He couldn’t imagine that being possible—Trudy Weaver had thought of absolutely everything and he couldn’t imagine that a single detail had escaped the woman’s attention—but he felt obliged to ask the question, anyway.

She smiled, efficiently powered off her PDA and slipped it into her bag. “No, I think that’s got it. We’re really looking forward to this weekend. To my knowledge, none of the popular romantic adventure fiction writers have ever planned a weekend quite like this one. We really want it to be a success. If it is, this could turn into a yearly thing for us.”

That would be nice, Lex thought, particularly if they continued to use his lodge. This had simply been a bad year. Several high-dollar repairs had been necessary. His central heat and A/C unit—a relatively new one, at that—had unexpectedly gone out, his computer system had fritzed, and for reasons he and his exterminator had never been able to discern, he’d been suddenly overrun with cockroaches back in the spring. Huge ones, some not even native to this area, and it had cost a small fortune in fees to get rid of the nasty creatures.

But things were looking up, Lex decided. His flat-lined spirits experienced a promising arc. “I’m sure everything will run smoothly. You can rest assured that my staff and I will do our part to see that it does.”

Smiling, she stood. “I’m counting on it.”

Lex moved to his feet as well and felt compelled to clear the air one more time about the Beano incident. He shoved a hand through his hair. “I wanted to apologize again about the dog. I’ve put him up. Is, er…Mrs. Bonner all right?” he asked, unintentionally putting a subtle emphasis on the Mrs. part.

Now what in the hell had made him fish for that tidbit? Lex wondered, thoroughly annoyed. He presently had too many things to concern himself with to be wondering whether or not a certain gorgeous author was married or not. More things to worry about than that sexy mouth, or those soft fawn curls, or those warm brown eyes. Another snake of heat coiled in his belly at the thought, forcing him to expel a slow breath.

Trudy paused, gave him a lingering, enigmatic look that made the tops of his ears burn. Her lips slid into a small smile. “It’s Ms. Bonner, and yes, she’s fine.”

Feeling ridiculous, he nodded awkwardly. “Good.”

She gave him another curiously probing look, traced his features with her gaze, then mumbled under her breath, “Nope, I just don’t see it.”

Lex blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“Nothing,” she said smoothly. “Do you read the Zoe Wilder novels, Mr. Ellenburg?”

“I haven’t yet,” Lex admitted, embarrassed. It had been on his to-do list, but for various reasons, that particular item kept getting shuffled to the bottom of the page. There was always something that needed to be done—some task left unfinished—and reading was simply a luxury he hadn’t had time for of late.

“Oh, you should,” she admonished, clearly scandalized. “Faith is phenomenally talented. Her characters—Zoe Wilder and Nash Austin—are larger than life, very vivid.” She heaved a small sigh. “No one writes action adventure quite like her. She’s the best. And this newest book…it’s the best one yet.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Oh, really?”

“Yes.” She shifted a bit closer, as though sharing an important secret. “The cliff-hanger at the end of book three—Death By Design—is revealed on the very first page of the prologue and it just gets better and better from there. It’s my new favorite.” She chuckled, rocked back on her heels. “Actually, every new book is my new favorite,” she confided.

Lex laughed as well. She was clearly very passionate about her boss’s work. “I’ll be sure and check them out. I just haven’t had the time.”

“Oh, make the time,” Trudy insisted. “You won’t regret it.”

Lex scratched his temple. “So are you playing a part this weekend, or are you just supervising behind the scenes?” Though it didn’t sound like anything he would particularly enjoy, Lex couldn’t help but be a little curious about the idea.

She sighed wistfully. “I’m supervising behind the scenes. Faith wanted to me to play the part of Zoe.” She lowered her voice. “She’s very anxious about it, but the fans expect her to do it, and she mustn’t let them down. After all, that’s the whole purpose of this weekend. She wrote it, the mystery, that is, so she should be all right.”

Now that was interesting, Lex thought, intrigued. He arched a brow. “Why doesn’t she want to do it?”

Trudy winced regretfully. “She doesn’t feel comfortable. You’d have to read the books to fully understand. Faith is worried that she won’t be able to pull off playing Zoe. Zoe is one tough cookie,” she conceded with a thoughtful nod. “She’s a kick-butt heroine. Brash, brave and sexy, wears slinky clothes and red lipstick. Nothing like Faith. Faith’s on the shy side, likes things calm and orderly. Sedate.” Trudy chuckled. “Zoe is far from sedate. Still,” she sighed, “I think that Faith is a whole lot more like Zoe than she realizes, and playing the part this weekend, I hope, will go a long way toward showing her that.”

Another intriguing item, Lex thought, as though he needed to know another. Hell, he’d been instantly enchanted with her. Probably the less he knew about her, the better, but to his immense consternation and stupidity, that didn’t keep him from fishing for more. “And this Nash Austin character,” Lex said. “He’s her hero?”

Trudy bobbed her head in assent. “Right. Her editor, John Wallace, is going to play his part. Faith said she couldn’t do it with a stranger, that it would simply be too difficult, too embarrassing.” Trudy’s eyes twinkled again and she regarded him closely. “The characters have a very steamy relationship.” She bounced on the balls of her feet. “They positively burn up the pages.”

A sickening sensation swelled in his stomach, preventing him from making a comment. He grunted noncommittally and forced his lips into what he hoped resembled a smile. Time to cut bait, Lex decided abruptly. “Well, if everything is settled,” he told her, “I have a few things I need to attend to.”

Like splitting wood for tonight’s fire. Regrettably, there was no wood fairy who would take care of the job for him, and he couldn’t afford to buy it by the cord, a luxury his competitors enjoyed. Like most everything else around here, he had to take care of it himself. He kept a minimal, yet well-trained staff, and had promised Christmas bonuses to them for taking on additional duties not found in their typical job descriptions. Thanks to Faith Bonner and her group, Lex would have enough money to make good on that promise as well as take care of a few pressing renovations—ones that were shuffled to the end of the list while he’d been fixing everything else that had gone kaput this season.

“Oh, certainly,” she told him. “I think we’ve covered everything.”

“Good. I’ll see you in the dining room this evening, then?”

“We’ll be there.” With that, Trudy took her leave.

Lex waited until she was out of earshot before he expelled a relieved breath. He didn’t have a problem discussing menu changes, or various decorations, or helping add little clues for the upcoming event.

He did, however, have a problem thinking about Faith Bonner and her editor recreating scenes from her books in which they “burned up the pages.” For reasons he didn’t care to explore, the idea made him feel as if he’d eaten bad shrimp. Made him want to put his fist through a wall. Made him want to haul her to his bedroom and burn up the sheets, an act he’d make certain she’d find more agreeable than any flesh session she might dream up for her books.

Which was completely out of the question.

Time to eliminate thought with action, Lex decided abruptly. He stopped by the front desk and told George where to find him if something came up, then headed toward the back.

The moment he stepped out into the porch, Beano lumbered to his feet and issued a short impatient howl, which meant one thing—please let me out of here. He’d gotten too big for that pen, Lex thought absently, regretting again having to put him up. He winced. “Sorry, buddy. Maybe later.”

His skin suddenly prickled and he knew before he heard the creak of the rocker she was there. His step momentarily faltered. “Hi,” he managed to murmur. “Enjoying the view?”

She toed the rocker to a stop. “Yes, I am. It’s gorgeous. So much color,” she said with a sigh. “It’s truly beautiful.”

That weird connection he’d noted before made his scalp tingle, and simply looking at her caused a curious knot of anticipation to form in his belly. Lex told his feet to keep moving, to descend the steps and move toward the woodpile, so it was quite disconcerting when they led him across the porch, where he leaned against the railing right in front of her.

“Every year I think that we’ll never have a prettier fall, and then the leaves start to change and inevitably prove me wrong.” He sighed as his gaze drifted proudly over the rugged terrain of his mountain. “I think it’s the landscape on this side of the mountain that makes the difference. All those valleys and ravines.”

She nodded thoughtfully, gestured toward the black Lab and winced. Tension vibrated off her slim frame and it occurred to him that she probably wouldn’t have ventured outside to enjoy the view if Beano hadn’t been penned. “I’m really sorry about your dog,” she said. “He’s miserable, isn’t he?”

“Ah, he’ll be all right,” Lex told her, watching the breeze flirt with her long curls. His gaze drifted to her lips and unwanted awareness sizzled along his nerve endings. “I’ll let him come in with me tonight and all will be forgiven.” He’d have to, otherwise other animals might mistake his dog for bait. He was a sitting duck in that pen. “I’m just sorry that he frightened you. Trudy mentioned you’d been attacked by a dog before.”

“When I was little,” she confirmed with a nod. “Still, it was no reason to faint.” She shot him an embarrassed look. “Thanks for, uh, taking care of me, bringing me in and all that.”

“No thanks necessary. I just wish he hadn’t frightened you.” Lex blew out a breath. “He’s big, but he’s harmless. He doesn’t realize his own strength.”

She gazed dubiously at Beano down in the pen and looked as though she’d like nothing better than to believe him. Still, he could read the fear in every line of her body, from the faintly worried line between her brows to the rigid way she sat in the chair.

Lex grimaced. “What kind of dog attacked you?” Probably a chow. Those animals had a reputation for attacking, particularly children. They were intimidated by humans who were larger than them, which put smaller adults and children at risk.