Page 24 of The Healer

“I always have something on the fry. Dane and Rhys eat like bears.” She grinned and opened a door into a bedroom in creams and rouge.

A quilt adorned the bed, florals in shades of pinks and puce assaulted Ilona’s eyes. As long as it was clean, which it was, she wouldn’t complain about the décor. Dane had placed her bag on an antique armchair. Through a door was a modern en suite in beige and pink.

In one corner of the room was a cast iron fireplace, and beside it, a small bundle of wood. “This is wonderful, Harriet.”

The woman beamed. “I hoped you’d like it.” She patted Ilona on the forearm. “Goodnight, and sleep well.” She closed the door with a click.

Ilona took a calming breath, embarrassment warring with anger at her silly breakdown. And the hug? She had burrowed into his embrace, a wealth of comfort flowing through her as if he truly cared.

Unzipping her bag, she unpacked what she needed and disappeared into the bathroom. A hot shower thawed every inch of her. She winked at her reflection in the mirror. The scar puckered, and her smile faltered at the reminder of her loss. It would always be there, a red flag taking her back to that night and the following days.

With her back to the mirror, she rubbed her hair. In a shaggy bob brushing past her shoulders, it was easy to care for without taking up too much time. She wrapped a towel around her head, then used the bath towel to dry the rest of her.

Tying it with a knot between her breasts, she opened the bathroom door. A roaring fire burned in the fireplace, and a fresh stack of chopped wood sat on the tiles beside it.

“I did knock.”

She yelped, but a grinning Dane shut the bedroom door. His rumbled goodnight penetrated the thin walls, along with his chuckle and thundering steps down the stairs.

She smiled. The mayor? Huh.

Chapter Nine

COEDWIG’S SURPRISE

Comingnorthmeantsnowand lots of it. Surrounded by forests, solitude made shifting easier, more private. Few amateur photographers or gun-toting madmen lingered in this weather. Rhys had left Cozy Cromwell’s, circled the house and marched into the nearby forest, then stripped in the shadow of the trees. His bear took the lead. The pristine snow coating the hills had urged him to leave his mark. He had zigzagged across it, rolling and pouncing until tiny flurries rose from his snow-dusted paws.

Then he’d spotted the woman, laughing and crying in the snow. Everything about her had called to him. Her heart was broken, as torn as her cheek. Yet she had begged him to come with her, vowing not to abandon him.

Please don’t ask me to.

I swore an oath.

Intriguing. Still, a blanket of sorrow had coated her despite her antics seeming innocent and amusing, at first. Stubbornness she had in spades. Was he interested because of her red hair, her hazel eyes, the pain trembling her cheeks? Or was it her elusive fragrance that teased his senses, aroused him? It had taken thoughts of George and her brothers living in squalor to dampen Rhys’s ardor. Yet the woman hadn’t once lowered her gaze to his exposed and hardening cock.

With his thoughts dazed, his bear whining to chase after her car, he had forced himself to walk away. He chuckled. Now, that would be a fool’s errant. He wasn’t a bloodhound. With her cap off, he’d caught a red curl, touched her pale chin, and ogled her curves. He sniffed the air, catching a hint of her fragrance. The wind was furious, whipping across his nose before he could take a deep inhale. Sure, he was grizzly, but he didn’t have the olfactory power of a polar.

He laughed. She hadn’t believed his snow-bathing claim. Her disbelief was made more delicious when she pursed her plump lips.

She was a beautiful woman, one he decided to search out when he returned to Coedwig. Outside Cromwell’s, as he paused onto the porch, Rhys spied the woman’s rental parked out front. Logical since there wasn’t another bed and breakfast or hotel available. She had to be staying at Harriet’s.

After yanking on the door, he bounded up the stairs, disappearing into his room for a quick shower. Dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, his boots on, he clambered downstairs, following his nose to the dining room. No redhead’s scent lingered.

“How was your evening run?” Harriet smiled, sliding a cocoa in front of a plate piled high with cookies.

Rhys patted his chest and sat. He chose a cookie, bit into it, and beamed when the moist, chocolate gooeyness filled his mouth. “Where’s Dane?” Putting off chatting to Coedwig’s alpha wasn’t wise. Rhys didn’t want to delay it further.

“Taking care of things.” She refilled his cocoa, then claimed a chair. “Are you staying for the Lunar Fest?”

Understanding Harriet’s curiosity, he grunted something noncommittal, but yes, he might pursue a woman if he took a liking to her. Hell, any warm body would do, if they didn’t mind him calling out ‘Callie’ in mid-orgasm. Damn, now that had been embarrassing. And pitiful. Thankfully, only his hand had witnessed his shame. He didn’t tell Harriet any of that. Or that a certain redhead-not-Callie had sparked his interest. Until he found the woman, his sex life was up in the air.

He wanted to ask about other guests, but the opening front door interrupted him.

“Hey, anything left for me?” Aiden poked his head in, then stepped through the door. He scanned the cookie plate and sighed. “Any cake?”

Harriet chuckled and hurried to pack Aiden a slice. He leaned against the door frame and eyed Rhys cradling his mug. “Thought I would walk you to the bar.”

Just the distraction Rhys needed. Draining his cocoa, he lowered the cup, then hurried to slip on his jacket.

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