Page 47 of Hayes

"It's beautiful," she whispered. Tugging at his hand, she forced him to stop. The cottage took up a small area and the rest of the large and winding grounds boasted wild and lush vegetation, including towering trees, waving in the stiff breeze and flowers withstanding the icy weather.

When she started shivering, he pulled her toward the door, pushing it open to the cozy warmth of the tiny living area, where there was a fire blazing in the hearth.

"I called ahead and alerted the caretaker," he told her as he helped her off with her jacket.

"I will go and get the basket and case."

Looking around the small room, she allowed the pleasant memories to come flooding back.

A smile touched her lips as she recalled how excited he had been about getting his license and how much he had teased her about failing her driving tests twice before she aced it. He had taken her for lessons, letting her get behind the wheel and taunting her by saying she drove like an old lady.

"I think the woman in front of us is pushing ninety. Look at her snowy white hair and she is going faster than you are."

"I am just being careful, and I would really appreciate it if you would cease from talking while I am driving. It's distracting," she had told him primly.

"Any minute now, we will be pulled over by the cops."

"Why? I am not speeding."

"You are going way below the speed limit and obstructing traffic."

She had glanced into her rear-view mirror to see if he was telling the truth and realized he was not. Sending him a blazing look, she had told him that if he continued, she would not go behind the wheels with him in the vehicle again. "You are supposed to be helping."

"I am," he had told her with a grin.

The sound of footsteps behind her had the memories dissolving.

"You looked far away," he murmured as he came up behind her. "I was thinking about how awful you were when you were giving me driving lessons." She leaned back against him, loving the feel of his lean, muscular body against hers. It was still difficult to believe that he was here with her.

"I was a jerk," he agreed with a smile.

"A major one."

"But it spurred you into doing better," he reminded her. Turning her to face him, he cupped her face between his palms. "I was thinking to myself that this seems surreal."

"What does?"

"Being here with you."

"I was thinking the same thing."

"I want to make love to you, but first, I am going to feed you."

"Good plan because I am starving," she admitted with a laugh.

They ate sitting by the fire, the blanket spread out beneath them. The chef had provided a veritable feast which included thinly sliced chicken breasts, crispy garlic bread, fresh fruits and vegetables as well as slices of cherry pie, washed down by excellent coffee.

"I am stuffed," she announced several minutes later.

"Want to walk it off? When we were here years ago, you were fascinated by the well."

"Is it still there?"

"The land has been left untouched." Packing away the rest of the meal, he rose lithely and extended a hand to help her to her feet. He wanted to make love to her, but they had the rest of the afternoon and the night for that.

Just being with her, in a place where it was just the two of them, was enough for him, at least for now. Adjusting her scarf around her neck, he buttoned up the jacket before putting on his own.

As soon as they cleared the steps, he took her hand and headed toward the left.

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