sky.
“It’s beautiful,” she told Cain.
“I called ahead and had the kitchen stocked, so there’ll be plenty of chow. John Stamp’s my foreman, and his wife, Patty, promised to check everything over and have the house ready when we arrived.” Cain glanced her way. “Are you tired?”
“Not in the least.” They’d spent the majority of the day hopping from one airport to another, and when they’d finally landed, they’d had to drive nearly three hours.
Cain had phoned Linette bright and early that morning and asked if she could make a ten o’clock flight. After a moment of panic, she’d assured him in a calm voice that it wouldn’t be a problem, and thanks to Bonnie, it hadn’t been.
“I’m more hungry than anything,” Cain said.
Gourmet cooking was one of Linette’s favorite things. She hadn’t been doing much of that lately, not when she was cooking for one. Now she looked forward to impressing Cain with the smooth way she handled herself around a kitchen.
Cain pulled the Bronco into the detached garage and helped her out of the passenger’s side before hauling their luggage out of the back end.
The lights from inside the house glowed brightly like beacons of welcome. Linette reached for her cosmetic bag and followed Cain through a thin layer of freshly fallen snow to the house. Several inches had already been shoveled off the pathway.
The door was unlocked, and Linette sighed inwardly at the rush of warm air that greeted her. When Cain had mentioned the ranch house, she hadn’t a clue it wouldbe this beautiful or this inviting. From the entryway, she saw a fire flickering gently in the massive stone fireplace. A stairway rounded up one side to a hallway, leading, she suspected, to a series of bedrooms.
Cain removed his coat and hung it in the closet before helping her out of hers.
“If you take care of the luggage, I’ll see what I can do about rustling us up some dinner.” Eager to explore his beautiful house, she didn’t wait for his response.
While Cain carried their suitcases up the stairs, Linette wandered into the kitchen. She stood, awestruck, just inside the door. This wasn’t an ordinary kitchen, but a chef’s dream. Sparkling copper kettles hung from above a large gourmet island. The appliances looked new, and a quick investigation revealed a walk-in cooler and a six-burner gas stove.
It didn’t take Linette long to realize nothing was required of her. Dinner was already prepared and waiting for their arrival. Apparently Patty Stamp had seen to that along with everything else.
Cain soon joined her. “Dinner’s ready,” she announced.
“That was quick,” he teased.
They ate at the dining room table, which was set with pink linen napkins and a centerpiece made of freshly clipped holly and cinnamon candles. Neither felt obligated to carry the conversation. Linette suspected it was because they didn’t feel the necessity to fill the silence with idle chatter. Perhaps, like her, Cain didn’t know what to say.
Cain helped her with the dishes, and afterward they drank coffee in front of the fireplace in matching wing-back leather chairs. As he sipped from the ceramic mug,Cain read over some business papers John Stamp had left for him to review.
The fire mesmerized Linette; the flames licked noisily at the logs, and every now and again they’d spit and sizzle as if undergoing some great debate.
Intermittently her gaze drifted to Cain, and she thought about what her parents had said, the warnings they’d issued when they’d learned she was spending the holiday with a man she barely knew. Yet she felt none of their concern.
Cain must have felt her scrutiny because he raised his eyes to her. His gaze softened as it met hers. His look was gentle, almost loving. Neither spoke. For her part, Linette wasn’t sure she could. All she knew was there was no place else she would rather be than right here with Cain McClellan sitting at her side.
“I’m not being good
“It’s beautiful,” she told Cain.
“I called ahead and had the kitchen stocked, so there’ll be plenty of chow. John Stamp’s my foreman, and his wife, Patty, promised to check everything over and have the house ready when we arrived.” Cain glanced her way. “Are you tired?”
“Not in the least.” They’d spent the majority of the day hopping from one airport to another, and when they’d finally landed, they’d had to drive nearly three hours.
Cain had phoned Linette bright and early that morning and asked if she could make a ten o’clock flight. After a moment of panic, she’d assured him in a calm voice that it wouldn’t be a problem, and thanks to Bonnie, it hadn’t been.
“I’m more hungry than anything,” Cain said.
Gourmet cooking was one of Linette’s favorite things. She hadn’t been doing much of that lately, not when she was cooking for one. Now she looked forward to impressing Cain with the smooth way she handled herself around a kitchen.
Cain pulled the Bronco into the detached garage and helped her out of the passenger’s side before hauling their luggage out of the back end.
The lights from inside the house glowed brightly like beacons of welcome. Linette reached for her cosmetic bag and followed Cain through a thin layer of freshly fallen snow to the house. Several inches had already been shoveled off the pathway.
The door was unlocked, and Linette sighed inwardly at the rush of warm air that greeted her. When Cain had mentioned the ranch house, she hadn’t a clue it wouldbe this beautiful or this inviting. From the entryway, she saw a fire flickering gently in the massive stone fireplace. A stairway rounded up one side to a hallway, leading, she suspected, to a series of bedrooms.
Cain removed his coat and hung it in the closet before helping her out of hers.
“If you take care of the luggage, I’ll see what I can do about rustling us up some dinner.” Eager to explore his beautiful house, she didn’t wait for his response.
While Cain carried their suitcases up the stairs, Linette wandered into the kitchen. She stood, awestruck, just inside the door. This wasn’t an ordinary kitchen, but a chef’s dream. Sparkling copper kettles hung from above a large gourmet island. The appliances looked new, and a quick investigation revealed a walk-in cooler and a six-burner gas stove.
It didn’t take Linette long to realize nothing was required of her. Dinner was already prepared and waiting for their arrival. Apparently Patty Stamp had seen to that along with everything else.
Cain soon joined her. “Dinner’s ready,” she announced.
“That was quick,” he teased.
They ate at the dining room table, which was set with pink linen napkins and a centerpiece made of freshly clipped holly and cinnamon candles. Neither felt obligated to carry the conversation. Linette suspected it was because they didn’t feel the necessity to fill the silence with idle chatter. Perhaps, like her, Cain didn’t know what to say.
Cain helped her with the dishes, and afterward they drank coffee in front of the fireplace in matching wing-back leather chairs. As he sipped from the ceramic mug,Cain read over some business papers John Stamp had left for him to review.
The fire mesmerized Linette; the flames licked noisily at the logs, and every now and again they’d spit and sizzle as if undergoing some great debate.
Intermittently her gaze drifted to Cain, and she thought about what her parents had said, the warnings they’d issued when they’d learned she was spending the holiday with a man she barely knew. Yet she felt none of their concern.
Cain must have felt her scrutiny because he raised his eyes to her. His gaze softened as it met hers. His look was gentle, almost loving. Neither spoke. For her part, Linette wasn’t sure she could. All she knew was there was no place else she would rather be than right here with Cain McClellan sitting at her side.
“I’m not being good
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