Page 13 of Wilde Sanctuary

Rhett barked out a laugh. “I’m not angry at you.” He shook his head. “I’m angry at me.”

“What?”

“I shouldn’t want to be anywhere near you, but I can’t stay away. My grandfather fought for decades to keep that land. He never wanted it sold, he was determined to keep it the way it was so people could enjoy it. He always said that you can’t stop progress, but he was damned if he’d let it run him over.” Rhett smiled wistfully, staring into the distance. He shook his head. “That’s why, beautiful. I can’t sell or I’d be going against everything he wanted.”

“Oh.” Charlie couldn’t think of anything to say.

“He was pretty much my dad. My parents died when I was eleven and he took me in. He was with me longer than my own parents were. I can’t just sell up and go against everything he stood for.”

Charlie’s chest squeezed in sympathy. She knew what it felt like to be caught up in the expectations of family, and she couldn’t fault Rhett.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“Why? It was a long time ago.” He smiled and brushed the side of her face with his thumb, his hand cupping her head gently.

“But I’m sorry for barreling into your life and bringing all that up. I can see why you don’t want to sell.”

“You can?”

She laughed. “Don’t look so shocked. I told you I wasn’t like my father.”

He smiled. “You’re right. You did.”

She wiggled on his lap, moving to stand up. He let her go, staring up at her from his position on the floor.

“Well?” She asked, a hand on one cocked hip and a smile on her lips.

“Well, what?”

“Are you coming to bed?”

She laughed as he scrambled to his feet and followed her into the shadowy bedroom.

Chapter Six

Rhett

Charlie stopped in the middle of the small room next to the bed, her hand resting on the cast-iron frame. It wasn’t a large bed, barely big enough for Rhett on his own, which he knew because he’d stayed here a lot in the months after his grandfather had died. This particular cabin was as familiar to him as his own home.

Rhett padded up to her on bare feet, the air in the cabin having cooled with the storm that still raged around them, and the floorboards with it. He reached for her hand, sliding his fingers into hers and tugging her gently to face him.

“I can sleep in my truck.”

“I know,” she said. “But what if I get scared?”

He fought back a smile at her exaggerated pout. “We can’t have that now, can we?”

She shook her head.

“I should warn you, I’m a cuddler.”

This time, he laughed. “You make that sound like a threat.”

She poked him in the chest with her pointer finger. “It was.”

Rhett captured her hand, holding it against his chest. “That’s alright. I think I can handle you.”

She smirked, her eyes sparkling.

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