Читать книгу Unforgettable - Rhonda Nelson - Страница 11

LEX ELLENBURG’S HEAD jerked up as an earsplitting scream suddenly rent the air. Oh, hell. Not Pooh again, Lex thought as a ball of dread ricocheted around his abdomen. Not Pooh, dammit. He didn’t have time to deal with another lecture from the park rangers—he had too many other pressing problems to deal with.

Like keeping his fledgling lodge afloat.

He buried the ax into a log and raced to the front of the building. The young bear had been coming around a lot more lately and, while most of his guests were regulars and knew of Pooh’s penchant for wandering about the lodge grounds, there was always a newbie who would see him and squeal like a wounded hog.

Then report him.

While Lex believed Pooh too tame to be a real threat to anyone, he was still a wild animal and animals could always be unpredictable. Lex snorted. Like women.

He rounded the corner and breathed a palpable sigh of relief. Not Pooh, thank God. Only Beano. Granted, the giant black lab had pinned a small woman to the ground, but she clearly wasn’t in any danger of being mauled to death. Lex’s lips twisted. The worst Beano could do was drown her in doggy drool. Still, his dog knocking guests to the ground couldn’t be good for business.

“Beano!” Lex bellowed sharply. “Off!”

“Off!” cried another woman, this one desperately trying to haul the giant dog off her friend. She might as well be trying to move a mountain with a spoon, for all the good it was doing. “Get off her, you great ox!” When she spied Lex, her face wilted with relief. “Thank God. Call him off. Get him off her!”

Tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth, Beano turned his soulful dark brown eyes toward Lex and seemed to say, “Look what I found. A new toy.”

It was at that precise moment that Lex realized the woman on the ground seemed unnaturally still. She made no effort to shove the dog from her chest, and she wasn’t screaming. Not a good sign. He mentally swore and a whole new kind of tension tightened his spine.

Pulse hammering in his ears, Lex rushed to her side, dropped to his knees, shoved the dog off her chest—“Off, dammit!”—and checked for any visible injuries. The worried friend crouched beside him, took the woman’s hand and gently shook it. “Faith? Faith? Oh, Faith!” she cried.

No blood, thank God, Lex thought, though he was still far from relieved. He ran his hands over her limbs, checking for any broken bones, then picked up her small wrist and checked her pulse. The strong beat throbbing beneath his fingertips marginally alleviated some of the dread.

He looked up. “Did she hit her head when the dog knocked her down?”

“Faith? Oh, come on, Faith,” the friend pleaded desperately, gently nudging the unconscious woman. Worry wrinkled her brow. “I don’t know,” she said, clearly agitated. “I was on the other side of the car. But the dog didn’t knock her down. She fainted before he got to her.”

Startled, Lex frowned. “Fainted?”

“She was attacked by a dog when she was a child,” she said defensively, casting him an annoyed glare. She gestured irritably at Beano. “I’m sure he’s probably harmless, but he charged her like a bull, for heaven’s sake. That animal will have to be put up while we’re here.” She scowled and didn’t appear to like the idea, but seemed resolved nonetheless.

Though he couldn’t possibly understand what had been said, Beano whimpered, trotted over and buried his wet nose in Lex’s neck.

“Go on,” Lex told him, giving him an affectionate push. “I’ll deal with you later,” he said, exasperated. Damn dog. He didn’t need this, and he didn’t want to put up his dog, but under the circumstances, he didn’t see where he would be left with much choice.

“Let’s get her inside.” He carefully lifted her in his arms and, despite the tension gathered in every muscle, couldn’t help but notice that her slight frame had all the right curves, in all the right places. She felt…nice against him, soft and womanly. Her scent, something light and floral—daisies maybe?—drifted up and teased his nostrils. She had a smooth heart-shaped face, a lightly freckled button nose and a dainty chin, which would have made her simply cute…but when one factored in that full, ripe mouth, she became downright beautiful. Soft-as-silk fawn-colored curls bobbed over his arm with every step he took, and to Lex’s unending astonishment, his blood simmered, igniting a pilot light in his groin.

He swallowed a bark of self-deprecating laughter. Which just went to show just how desperately he needed to get laid.

Hell, he hadn’t had the time, much less the energy. Keeping the lodge in the black, practicing creative finance—which he’d become so adept at in recent months he should qualify for a damned Ph.D.—and constantly maintaining the building hadn’t left him with so much as a morning to sleep in, much less time to find a woman willing to indulge in a little recreational sex.

His gaze dropped to the woman in his arms and a muscle ticked in his tense jaw. Clearly, if he had sunk to lusting over unconscious females, it was time to remedy that problem.

But there was something altogether intriguing about this particular woman, Lex thought, as his gaze inexplicably lingered on her gorgeous face far longer than it should have under the circumstances—she was unconscious, after all. It didn’t stop his chest from unexpectedly tightening, nor did it account for his suddenly galloping heart. He blinked, unsettled, and forced himself to look away, to focus on getting her inside the building.

The friend hurried forward and opened the door to the lodge. Lex muttered his thanks, crossed the threshold and made his way over to one of the big leather sofas positioned in front of the fireplace. He gingerly deposited his bundle on the couch and, to his vast relief, she finally stirred. She’d been as limp as a rag doll while he’d brought her in.

The mystery woman’s lids fluttered, then opened, revealing a pair of huge, heavily lashed, light brown eyes. They were the color of melted caramel, Lex thought, swallowing past a curious knot in his throat. That bizarre tourniquet around his chest tightened, pushing the butterflies in his belly farther behind his navel. He went momentarily deaf while staring into those utterly captivating eyes—couldn’t hear a single sound—and the sensation left him feeling more than a little disturbed.

Her brow wrinkled and a wondering, gorgeous smile bloomed across her oh-so-sexy lips. He felt that smile clear to his toes, most particularly behind his zipper. “Nash?” she breathed reverently.

The friend eagerly bumped him aside. “Faith! Oh, thank God! Are you all right? Are you hurt?”

Nash? Lex wondered, bewildered. Who the hell was Nash?

Confusion filled Faith’s eyes, lined her forehead. She gazed back and forth between them, then inhaled sharply, closed her eyes and groaned. “I—What—Oh, God.”

“The dog charged you,” the friend explained, “but Mr.—” She shot him a questioning glance.

“Ellenburg,” Lex supplied, still bewildered by his intense reaction to her.

“Mr. Ellenburg has assured me that the animal will be put up for the duration of our stay.”

The look she gave him dared him to argue and, though he knew it was unreasonable, he would like nothing better than to argue. Lex didn’t want to put up his dog, dammit—he’d be miserable. Furthermore, Beano was harmless and it seemed wholly unfair to punish him for the sins of another animal.

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.