Third Time's a Charm (Holland Springs #3)(9)

After parking, they got out of the Jeep and she moved to the back passenger side to get Ivy.

Rose unlatched the baby’s carrier from its base, stealing glances at her new tenant as she did. However, his profile revealed nothing, and as they walked to the entrance, she began to judge the exterior from an outsider’s point of view.

Peeling paint, a sagging front porch and missing rails greeted them. Shutters hanging on by their last nails threatened to decapitate an unlucky bystander. Cobwebs decorated every nook and cranny.

Her cheeks began to burn and she walked faster, the gravel crunching under her shoes. Maybe she should have sold the place when she had the chance—before she had told the real estate agent to stick it where the sun didn’t shine.

Damn stubborn pride.

But that’s what kept her from collapsing on the floor when she read the letter from the tax office. It really hadn’t been a surprise, but the grace period had been shortened from six months to three. She was thankful that it hadn’t been reduced to one. A move that she wouldn’t put past Lorelei Collins, Holland Springs’ tax administrator, not after this new development.

The sins of her mother were being visited on Rose and her sisters in triplicate. As usual.





Sasha knew Rose was embarrassed as hell, the tightness in her shoulders and rigid posture giving her away. He could make it easier on her. He could say something witty and charming, putting her at ease. Then again, she didn’t like it when he was charming. She smiled when he was snarky and biting. Or when he was real.

And if he didn’t watch it, he’d end up talking to her about long walks on the beach and his pet peeves.

“I see you’re ready for Halloween,” he said.

She paused and he grabbed the car seat from her, following as she made her way up the rickety front porch steps. He rather hoped they would hold his and Ivy’s combined weight. The steps creaked ominously, but held. Good God, this place needed a major face lift.

“At Strawberry Grove, we’re ready twenty-four-seven, three hundred-sixty five days a year,” she said.

“Favorite holiday, eh?”

As the door opened, she stepped inside and gave a low laugh. Darkness enveloped her and the hair on the back on his neck stood up. “Haven’t you heard, Mr. Romanov?” Her voice was low, seductive. Bewitching.

“Heard what?” Unease pricked at his spine, making him unable to step inside with a defenseless baby.

Lights in the foyer flickered to life, but Rose stood no where near the twin lamps sitting on a table under a large gilded mirror. Instead she stood at the base of a grand staircase, her ocean-blue eyes mysterious. A black cat rubbed against her ankles and meowed.

“I’m a witch.”

Unable to help himself, his mouth dropped open. “A what!”

“I’m only teasing.” The expression on her face was anything but playful. She gestured for him to follow her up the stairs. “Your room’s up here. Bring Ivy and I’ll give you the grand tour before I fix supper.”

Like a man caught in a riptide, he had no choice but to be swept along. The door closed behind him. He risked a backwards glance. The cat now sat by the door, its tail twitching.

The antique stairs groaned with his every step as he made he followed her. The interior of Rose’s house was in better shape than the outside. Marginally. Faded wallpaper peeled at corners. Washed out carpets covered the second story landing. Ornate sconces flickered on and off as they ascended. He stopped to take a look out of a porthole-shaped window. A crescent moon reflected in the still black waters of the sound.

“Are you coming?” Rose asked and he nearly jumped out of his skin.

Jesus. This house was making him mental. He gave Rose a wicked smile. “Not for months—at least with a partner.”

Her mouth dropped open, then she closed it with a distinctive snap. Turning away from him, she said, “Your room is at the end of the hall. There’s a bathroom two doors down.”

“Shall I wash your back first, dear?” he couldn’t help but ask now that he was in control of the situation.

She didn’t falter in her stride, nor did she glance back. “We eat supper at six thirty. There’s no cable or internet, but there’s a land line in the kitchen.”

“Don’t need it. My phone has all the apps I need.”

“There’s no signal out here,” she said, and he could have sworn there was a smile in her voice.

How the hell was he supposed to communicate with the outside world? Oh, right, he was in the middle of nowhere and shouldn’t expect modern conveniences like running water or fire. “I could buy one of those boosters, and—”

“They’re bad for us.”

“Yes, technology is the very devil,” he muttered under his breath.

She moved gracefully down the hall, her arm rising and falling every so often. More lights magically illuminated as she passed. He spied a switch plate on the wall. He touched it with the tip of one finger as he passed by. A sharp stab made him jerk it back. Faulty wiring at its finest.

Ivy let out a whimper and the black cat following Rose turned back to look at him. “What? You think I made her cry?” he asked, tilting his head down to stare into eyes that were remarkably like its owner.

“Blackbeard won’t answer you,” Rose said.