Allison Leigh - Tycoon's Temptation - The Truth About the Tycoon / The Tycoon's Lady / HerTexan Tycoon

She sailed past her brother and dumped the sheets down the laundry chute hidden behind a panel in the hallway. They’d land smack dab in the center of the laundry room in the basement. When Shane didn’t move, she turned and glared at him. “I can call Dad about the logs if you prefer. He’s forever offering to help.”

“I said I’d do it,” Shane groused. His boots scraped along the fussy carpet runner as he stomped past her, then out the back way through the kitchen. If the slam of that door was anything to go by, Hadley knew his temper was in fine form.

She let out a long breath and cast a sideways look at Wood. “He’s not usually so disagreeable.”

“You don’t have to make excuses for anyone, Hadley.”

Maybe she didn’t. But he was certainly the first person to tell her so. She didn’t know what it was about the man that alternately made her feel strong and brave, then… not.

So she fell back on the safe and familiar.

“I’ll have lunch out within the hour. Sorry to have disturbed you.” She turned to go. She needed to change the linens in the tower room also, and leave out extra blankets for all the regulars, who took care of their own laundry. But she stopped. “Are you sure your head is all right?” She looked at him.

His expression seemed stark.

“Save your worry, Hadley, for someone who needs it.”

Something curled inside her at the words. Not a command or a rebuff.

But a plea?

She dismissed the very notion of it. Her imagination had clearly shifted into overdrive.

She nodded and went to finish her tasks and when she set out lunch that day, she resumed her usual custom of spending the peaceful hour in her room with her papers and pen. But instead of furiously scribbling out the stories that were forever tumbling around inside her head, she sat on her cushioned window seat and stared blindly out the window, the pen seemingly forgotten in her hand.

The only character in her thoughts was a real, live person named Wood Tolliver.

The weather forecast proved correct and a fresh snowstorm hit that evening after dinner. Vince kept the fire stoked with the additional split logs Shane had left. Hadley mixed up a large pot of hot cocoa, and most everyone congregated in the parlor where the fire cheerfully blazed despite the howling wind that rattled the windows.

Everyone except Wood.

When she’d finished up the phone calls of arrangements for Evie’s surprise birthday party, Hadley tried not to let his absence concern her. But it was a hopeless endeavor, doomed to failure from the very start. And finally, while everyone else was occupied with a raucous game of charades, she set aside her party notes and went to the kitchen. She fixed a tray of cocoa and cookies and carried it down the hall. She rapped her knuckles softly against the door panel.

He didn’t answer, and standing in the hall far longer than necessary only ended up making her feel particularly pathetic. The man was finally getting some well-deserved rest.

Who could blame him for that?

She returned the tray to the kitchen and bade a good-night to everyone in the parlor. She noticed that Nikki Day was no longer there. Mrs. Ardelle told her that she’d retired. Apparently during Hadley’s futile wait outside Wood’s door.

As far as Hadley had been able to determine, Nikki—while friendly and polite—didn’t seem to be having a particularly enjoyable time. She was clearly pregnant, but had only picked at her dinner. And Mrs. Ardelle had said she’d done the same during lunch.

If only to ease her concern about someone, Hadley went up the tower and knocked softly on that door.

After a moment it opened. Nikki’s face looked pale and drawn. “Yes?”

“I just wanted to make certain you were warm enough up here. If you’re not, I could start a fire in the fireplace for you.”

Nikki pushed up the sleeves of her dark-green sweater. “I’m fine without it. And the room is lovely.” She looked away for a moment.

Hadley had to curtail the impulse to give the woman a hug. She looked as if she needed one just as badly as Joanie ever had. But she also recognized the woman’s innate sense of privacy and didn’t want to cause her any discomfort. “If the storm doesn’t deliver too much snow, you’ll be all set for the sleigh ride you requested. Tomorrow after lunch.”

A shadow came and went in the other woman’s eyes. “You must think it very odd that I’ve come here this way. Going on things like sleigh rides alone.”

“I think you have your reasons,” Hadley said honestly. “And it’s a pleasure for me to make your stay special in the same way my mother must have for your relatives who were here before.”

“My fiancé’s parents, actually,” Nikki said. “They were here on their honeymoon. Cody always talked about us coming here.” She pressed her lips together for a moment. “I never thought I’d be coming by myself.”

Forget privacy. Hadley reached out and gently squeezed Nikki’s cool hands. “If there’s anything I can do, you just ask. I have all of the guest registers that my mother used. Maybe you’d like to look at them sometime. I’m sure we’d find their visit listed.”

Nikki’s eyes looked moist. She nodded. “Thank you.” She squeezed Hadley’s hands in return, then reached for the door. “Good night.”

“Good night.” Hadley headed back downstairs and went to her room. It was chilly and she added a blanket to her own bed the way she had the others, then—since there was no sound at all through the door to Wood’s room—she indulged herself with a hot bath and a book. No matter the fact that she’d retired for the night, her mind was simply too busy to sleep.

The book was good, and the bathwater was cold, the bubbles long gone when the lights flickered and went out.

She stared into the inky darkness. Well, great. But it wasn’t the first time she’d dealt with a power outage, and as long as she ran Tiff’s, it would undoubtedly not be the last.

She tossed aside her book, well out of the way of any water splashing, and climbed out of the tub, racing the towel over her chilled skin and fumbling into her robe again. Going by feel, she pulled the stopper in the tub and padded into her bedroom. She lit the oil lamp on her dresser and went back into the bathroom, tidying up by the dim light there. Then she went out into the hallway and checked the rest of the house.

All was still. Silent, save the slow tick of the windup anniversary clock sitting on the mantel in the parlor.

She pulled back the lacy curtains to look out the front.

The entire street was dark, meaning it wasn’t just Tiff’s that suffered a power outage this time. By the moonlight, however, she could see the fresh drifts of snow in the street.

It took her a moment to make a shape out of the shadows. But she realized when the shadow moved, becoming two distinct forms in the middle of the street where the snowfall wasn’t quite as deep, that it was two people.

One headed off down the street, a genderless blob of dark coat and hat. One headed toward Tiff’s.

She straightened abruptly, letting the curtain fall back into place. She had no time to escape down the hall to her room, and in seconds, she heard footsteps on the porch, followed by the creak of the front door.

Great. Just great.

She didn’t even have the sense to extinguish her oil lamp. She just stood there in the parlor, listening. Visualizing his motions, along with his sounds—closing the door behind him, the creak of his leather jacket being removed, the nearly soundless tread up the hallway, passing the parlor doorway.

Pausing.

“So you’re the glow in an otherwise dark night.”

She nearly jumped out of her skin. The lamp bobbled in her hand, and she quickly steadied it before she dropped the infernal thing and set fire to the place. Her other hand clutched the lapels of her robe together. “The power is out.”