Sanctuary(27)

"In more ways than one." Her voice was dry, and just a little bitter. It had him lifting a brow in question, but she added nothing more. "We do registration in the front parlor."

she turned down the hallway, stepped into the first room on the right. Someone had started a fire, she observed, probably in anticipation of the Yankee, and to keep the guests at the inn cheerful on a rainy day if they wandered through.

she went to the huge old Chippendale writing desk and opened the top side drawer, flipped through the paperwork for the rental cottages. Upstairs in the family wing was an office with a workaday file cabinet and a computer Kate was still struggling to learn about. But guests were never subjected to such drearily ordinary details.

"Little Desire Cottage," Jo announced, sliding the contract free. she noted it had already been stamped to indicate receipt of the deposit and signed by both Kate and one Nathan Delaney.

Jo laid the paperwork aside and opened another drawer to take out the keys jingling from a metal clip that held the cottage name. "This one is for both the front and the rear doors, and the smaller one is for the storage room under the cottage. I wouldn't store anything important in there if I were you. Flooding is a hazard that near the river."

"I'll remember that."

"I took care of setting up the telephone yesterday. All calls will be billed directly to the cottage and added to your bill monthly." she opened another drawer and took out a slim folder. "You'll find the usual information and answers in this packet. The ferry schedule, tide information, how to rent fishing or boating scar if you want it. There's a pamphlet that describes the island-history, flora and fauna- Why are you staring at me like that?" she demanded.

"You've got gorgeous eyes. It's hard not to look at them."

she shoved the folder into his hands. "You'd be better off looking at what's in here."

"All right." Nathan opened it, began to page through. "Are you always this jittery, or do I bring that out in you?"

"I'm not jittery, I'm impatient. Not all of us are on vacation. Do you have any questions-that pertain to the cottage or the island?"

"I'll let you know."

"Directions to your cottage are in the folder. If you'd just initial the contract here, to confirm receipt of the keys and information, you can be on your way."

He smiled again, intrigued at how rapidly her southern hospitality was thinning. "I wouldn't want to wear out my welcome," he said, taking the pen she offered him. "Since I intend to come back."

"Breakfast, lunch, and dinner are served in the inn's dining room. The service hours are also listed in your folder. Box lunches are available for picnics."

The more she talked, the more he enjoyed hearing her voice. she smelled of rain and nothing else and looked-when you looked into those lovely blue eyes-as sad as a bird with a broken wing.

"Do you like picnics?" he asked her.

she let out a long sigh, snatched the pen back from him, and scrawled her initials under his. "You're wasting your time flirting with me, Mr. Delaney. I'm just not interested."

"Any sensible woman knows that a statement like that only presents a challenge." He bent down to read her initials, "J.E.H."

" Jo Ellen Hathaway," she told him in hopes of hurrying him along.

"It's been a pleasure being rescued by you, Jo Ellen." He offered a hand, amused when she hesitated before clasping it with hers.

"Try Zeke Fitzsimmons about that tune-up. He'll get the jeep running smoothly for you. Enjoy your stay on Desire."

"It's already started on a higher note than I'd expected."

"Then your expectations must have been very low." she slid her hand free and led the way back to the front door. "The rain's let up," she commented, as she opened the door to moist air and mist. "You shouldn't have any trouble finding the cottage."

"No." He remembered the way perfectly. "I'm sure I won't. I'll see you again, Jo Ellen." Will have to, he thought, for a number of reasons.

she inclined her head, shut the door quietly, and left him standing on the veranda wondering what to do next.

On his third day on Desire, Nathan woke in a panic. His heart was booming, his breath short and strangled, his skin iced

Covered with sweat. He shot up in bed with fists clenched, his eyes searching the murky shadows of the room.

Weak sunlight filtered through the slats of the blinds and built a cage on the thin gray carpet.

His mind stayed blank for an agonizing moment, trapped behind the images that crowded it. Moonlit trees, fingers of fog, a woman's naked body, her fanning dark hair, wide, glassy eyes.