Rising Darkness (Game of Shadows #1)(55)

“Then it sounds like heaven on earth to me,” she said.

He stood back and let her walk into the cabin first. She stopped in the middle of a large room, pivoting to look around as he brought in his bags and tucked them out of the way.

He was not exaggerating when he called the cabin rustic. The walls were wooden with a few built-in bookshelves. A table and a few chairs sat in the middle of the floor. Two corners at one end of the room were filled with a wide bed and a dresser.

Against the far wall a counter, a small stove, sink and refrigerator comprised a kitchenette area. More bare shelves were under the counter, stacked with a variety of canned foods. A large fieldstone fireplace took up most of the third wall, with wood stacked in a nearby box. A package of long matches sat on the mantel.

A closed door was in the last corner. Michael walked over to the door and disappeared. He stepped back in the room moments later.

“This is the bathroom. I’ve turned the water heater on,” he said. “We’ll be able to wash in comfort soon.”

“Thank God,” she said. She felt like she had picked up twenty miles of road dirt. “I like your cabin. How long have you owned this place?”

“Eight years. It’s only a day’s travel from Astra’s place, and it’s private and independent. Sometimes I need to get away from everything, even her. Especially her.” He walked over to the refrigerator, opened the door and looked in the freezer. “The fridge is working fine. Aside from what I picked up at the store, I have some frozen stuff, mostly steaks, ground beef and vegetables. I keep the coffee in the freezer, and there’s the canned stuff under the counter.”

“It all sounds terrific,” she said.

She set the grocery bags on the table and unpacked the food he had bought. Most of the items were off-brand, just good, plain food, enough for several meals. There were containers of flavored yogurt, eggs, a small tub of butter, another small container of half-and-half, apples, cheese, a package of pasta noodles, a jar of spaghetti sauce, crackers, a loaf of bread and a few packets of fresh vegetables and fruit.

Asparagus, mushrooms and strawberries.

Her eyes moistened as she stared down at the fresh produce. He had bought ingredients to make her wish breakfast at a dream hotel: a mushroom and asparagus omelet, fresh fruit and coffee with cream.

She gathered up the perishables and tucked them into the otherwise empty fridge.

Then she rummaged through the other full bags. He had bought a petite-sized pair of jeans, two T-shirts, a hooded gray sweatshirt, the white socks she had glimpsed earlier, a packet of pink underwear and a set of three sports bras. There was also a new toothbrush, antiperspirant and a travel-sized tube of toothpaste.

The sports bras looked a bit big, and the T-shirts and sweatshirt would be baggy but useful enough, and hopefully the jeans might fit. The socks and underwear should be fine. They were all treasures.

“I already had soap and shampoo. Is it okay?” he asked. He had picked up the lighter of the two black bags and paused with it in his arms. He was watching her with an uncertain expression that looked odd on his normally confident, decisive face.

“It’s more than okay. It’s amazing. Thank you so much for thinking of it.” She looked with longing at the bathroom door. “Do you think the water has warmed up enough by now?”

He shook his head. “I doubt it. If you want, you can shift things in the dresser to make a space for your clothes.”

“Thanks.”

She rifled through the dresser. It felt odd to handle his clothing, adding another layer of intimacy to their already convoluted and confusing relationship. She took one of the new T-shirts and a pair of underwear from the packet then tucked the rest of the clothes, still in their plastic packaging and labels, in the top drawer. The T-shirt looked like it was long enough to reach her upper thighs.

Clutching the clothes in her hands, she turned to him. “I can’t wait any longer. Do you mind if I go ahead and use the bathroom?”

He raised his eyebrows. “Help yourself, but I’m sure the water isn’t warm enough yet to bathe in comfortably.”

“That’s okay. I’ve got an agenda,” she said. His well-cut mouth widened in a smile. His unshaven jaw lent his features a rough appearance, and his wide shoulder and chest muscles flexed under his black T-shirt as he moved around the cabin.

She was fascinated by all the evidence of his existence, by the sight of him, by the quiet sounds he made as he moved around, his warm fragrant male scent, by her own response to him. It took an effort to yank her gaze away and slip into the bathroom. Once inside, she leaned against the door and shook her head back and forth.

Too much, too much going on.

On the bright side, a lot of items on her fix-it to-do list had been wiped out. She didn’t have a dirty house any longer that needed cleaning. She couldn’t feel guilty about not finishing any of her quilting projects, and going to work was out of the question.

On the dark side . . . She thought of Justin again, and her eyes filled.

Then she shuddered and scrubbed her face with one hand, closed the door on her grief for the time being, and looked around. The bathroom was utilitarian and somewhat outdated, with the water heater in one corner, and a bath and shower, and a white sink with a small mirror, but it was mercifully clean, which gave it a five-star rating in her travel book for this trip. A small cabinet hung over the toilet. When she opened it, she saw towels and washcloths on the two shelves inside.