Lee Wilkinson - Running From the Storm

The kitchen at Hallgarth was large and airy, with all mod cons, its open windows letting in the sunshine and fresh mountain air.

Comfortable and homely, it was fitted out like a farmhouse-style living-kitchen, with hickory furniture and an open range, which at the moment was partially screened by a vase of flame-blue delphiniums and pale-pink scented roses.

Caris had half-expected his housekeeper to be there, but they seemed to have the place to themselves. Wondering about it, she asked, ‘Does your housekeeper live in?’

‘Mrs Timmins lives over the garage. But it’s her weekend off. I hope you don’t mind?’

Flustered to realize he must be the one who had put her to bed, she stammered, ‘Well, n-no, I … No, of course not.’

He gave her a sidelong glance. ‘I realize it would have been much more circumspect if my housekeeper had been here, but she’s gone up to Buffalo to visit her family.’

Straight-faced, but with a gleam in his eye that suggested he was teasing, he went on, ‘If in the circumstances you feel seriously compromised …’

Caris was about to deny any such thing when he finished, ‘You can always marry me.’

His words made her heart give a little jump. Managing a laugh, she said with determined lightness, ‘That seems a little drastic.’

‘You mean you’ll settle for less?’

‘I’ll settle for a cup of coffee.’

He sighed. ‘Well, if you change your mind about marrying me, just let me know.’

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