Jennifer Greene - Rock Solid

She chuckled. But then her laughter faded. As if someone flipped a switch, Cash was suddenly conscious of the sudden hush in the room, the dark shadows and intimacy of lamplight, the scent of books…and her perfume. It wasn’t pixieish and gamine like her, but a soft, sexy, exotic scent, spices he didn’t know, flowers he couldn’t name. The perfume made him uneasy, but that wasn’t why he shifted on his feet.

An embarrassed rose was still brushed across her cheeks from her near tumble. But at that second, her face was still tilted toward his, her lips barely parted, those liquid chocolate eyes fastened on his face.

He had the craziest sensation that she wanted to kiss him. Or to be kissed. By him.

That first lunatic sensation was followed by another. He wanted to kiss her. The way he hadn’t wanted to kiss a woman in forever. Not a let’s-get-it-on kiss. Not a hi-there-honey kiss. Not a let’s-test-these-waters kiss.

But a kiss that communicated Damn, I’ve been waiting for you forever. I didn’t know I’d ever find you. I really didn’t believe you even existed. Not for me.

His throat was suddenly too dry to swallow, his pulse galloping like a colt’s in spring. He couldn’t remember ever having this stupid a reaction to a woman. Naturally, though, he recovered swiftly, smiled, moved. Especially moved. “Well, you’re not going to have any trouble finding your way back to your room, are you?”

“I don’t think I’ve memorized the whole layout, yet, but I know I can find my room, no problem.”

“Well, I’ll see you in the morning then, Lexie.”

“I’ll turn out the lights—”

Again she spun around, so fast—again—that her incredibly lethal elbow almost landed a hook in his ribs. “I’ll get the lights, don’t worry.”

“Did I—?”

“No, no, you didn’t do a bit of harm. I just don’t want you walking in the dark in an unfamiliar place. I’ll follow you in a minute, and clip the lights off after that.”

But he lied, Cash mused. She was harm. He couldn’t explain how she’d done that ooga booga thing with him a few moments before, but for damn sure, he didn’t respond to normal women that way. Something about her was different.

And worrisome.

At 6:29 a.m., Lexie’s right hand poked out from the cocoon of blankets, lifted midair and waited. When the alarm clock buzzed 6:30, her palm slammed on the sucker almost before it had a chance to screech.

Blearily she opened her eyes. She was used to insomnia, used to surviving for days on end with short-sleep. She was also used to getting up at insanely early hours. But she wasn’t used to dreaming about strange men, and it put her off her stride.

She swung her legs over the side of the unfamiliar bed, switched on the light, winced at the glare and then tested her body for complaints. A lack-of-sleep headache pounded in her temples. Her feet hurt from too many hours of traveling the day before, wearing impractical shoes. The muscles in her neck were painfully tensed from too many hours of tossing and turning. All in all, Lexie figured she should be good and miserable.

Instead, an image of Cash McKay pounced in her mind like a charge of fresh, delightful, invigorating lightning. Instantly she forgot all the creaking body parts—or else they self-healed with amazing speed. She couldn’t wait to get up and see what the day brought.

Yikes. The terrifying thought bounced through her head that she was losing what little mind she had left.

By the time she’d slipped on pale jeans, a pastel shirt and new hiking shoes—the leather soft as butter—she was scowling…and feeling more like herself. How could she possibly be looking forward to this day? If she were at home, by now she’d have made three phone calls, checked her home fax and inhaled early-morning CNN before her teeth were brushed. She didn’t know how the Dow or NASDAQ had closed yesterday. She could hear birds, but not a single sound of anything electronic anywhere. It wasn’t natural.

She wasn’t going to make it here four weeks. Heck, she wasn’t going to make it four days.

And downstairs, there he was—and not just Cash, but his sidekick. Actually, through the thick red-stone door of the dining room, a number of male bodies were milling around the laid-out buffet, but it was only the dad and son team who snared her attention. One of them was practicing spelling words for a test that day, and all Lexie could think was how adorable they were, both in worn-in jeans and dark long-sleeved T-shirts and boots, both with a cowlick, both with the same swaggering walk. The pair of them could have a matching sign on their foreheads—Cash and Son, two against the world, no women wanted.

Since she wasn’t looking to be a woman in anyone’s life, Lexie felt unsure why the two McKays put such a darn lump in her throat. They were just so…darling together. So fierce. So obviously a family, with love they wore like a protective shield. They so obviously belonged together and watched out for each other. But then the one with those sexy, battered eyes spotted her in the doorway.

“Morning, Lex, come on in and grab a plate. You met Slim Farraday and Stuart Rennbacker last night, didn’t you?”

She greeted both the guys, and yes, she remembered them from dinner the evening before. Slim was the banking mogul, a little man with kind eyes of around sixty who walked with the frailty of someone who’d recently been ill. She’d instinctively wanted to mother him, and they’d had a great time talking capital gains and futures the night before. Stuart was on his third stay at Silver Mountain, and was a blustery, gruff man in his forties, with the look of an executive and worry built-in around the eyes. They’d both been welcoming to her yesterday, but since it’d been a long sleepless night, she wasn’t capable of being friendly until she’d mainlined a couple cups of the obvious.

“Sorry, babe, no coffee.”

She spun around at the sound of Keegan’s voice. Judging from looks, the scruffy-faced kid couldn’t be more than a few years younger than her, but Lexie felt as if she were worlds older in life. Keegan was just one of those perpetual-student types of people. Sweet. Idealistic. Full of good cheer and endless ideas—which meant he was annoying first thing in the morning. She narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean, no coffee?”

Keegan motioned to the tray he was carting in from the kitchen. “I’ve got a high energy drink made for all of you. It’ll give you all the zoom that coffee does but without any of the negative side effects. Trust me, you’re going to love it.”

On a scale between grape cough syrup and castor oil, Keegan’s high energy drink fell about in the middle. Disgusting. And it had no caffeine. In spite of the bulging buffet table, the offerings were primarily granola and fruit. No eggs Benedict, no toast slathered with guava jelly, no nice, fattening, cholesterol-stuffed doughnuts. Ten minutes later, Lexie was hustled outside with the guys, her stomach whining from starvation and deprivation both.

She wasn’t into nature—and didn’t want to be—but even a hard-core morning grump couldn’t help but savor this one. A lake cupped between two mountains gleamed like sterling silver in the morning sunlight. A whisper of fog danced around the trees, the scent of wet pines so strong it was almost a perfume. Squirrels scampered out of their path. A deer frolicked so close that Lexie tripped and almost ran headlong into a tree because she couldn’t stop staring at the darling. And the sky was downright scary. It was such a stinging-fresh blue that she suddenly realized how long it’d been since she’d been anywhere that city pollution hadn’t grayed and diluted the sky’s natural hues.