That Holiday Feeling (Virgin River #8)(30)

“You’re blushing,” he said, regarding her with amusement.

“Well, of course I am! I hardly know you, and here we are discussing underwear.”

“It can be a fascinating topic, especially if we move from cotton to satin and lace.”

She frowned at him. “You’re deliberately trying to rattle me, aren’t you?”

“Why would I do that?” he asked, trying for a serious expression. The twinkle in his gray eyes betrayed him.

“I can’t imagine, especially when all I was trying to find out was what drew a city man like you to spend time in a country retreat.” She studied him thoughtfully, then said, “There must have been a woman involved.”

“Bingo. The woman who brought me here years ago was envisioning a quiet, romantic getaway with long hikes through the woods.” He shrugged and gave her a beguilingly sheepish look. “Instead I spent the weekend holed up in Mae’s study with my computer and fax machine taking care of a business crisis.”

Savannah immediately felt a surprising empathy for the woman. “Now, that I can imagine. Your friend must have been disappointed.”

“Dreadfully.”

“What sort of business?”

“I own a company in New York,” he said in such a dismissive way that it sparked her curiosity.

“Franklin,” Savannah recalled thoughtfully. “Not Franklin Toys, by any chance?”

He seemed startled that she’d grasped it so quickly. “That’s the one. How on earth did you figure that out?”

“There were some articles about that company on Mae’s desk. Obviously she kept up with it.”

“I imagine so,” he said, his expression noncommittal.

“Because she knew you from your visits here?” Savannah persisted, sensing there was more.

He shrugged. “That was the start of her interest, I suppose.”

She frowned at his evasiveness. “What aren’t you saying?”

“What makes you think I’m leaving something out?”

“Instinct.”

“Okay, then, here’s the whole story in a nutshell. I suppose I owe you that, since I’ve shown up on your doorstep out of the blue,” he said. “Your aunt was the one who encouraged me to start the company. I’d been with another toy manufacturer for a few years. I’d learned all I could, and I had a lot of ideas for ways to do it better. Mae was an early investor in Franklin Toys. Over the years she and I made a lot of money together, but I owe every bit of that success to her initial encouragement.”

“I see,” Savannah said slowly. “So that first trip here wasn’t a waste of your time after all. Did your relationship with the woman last?”

“Only for as long as it took me to get her back to her apartment in New York that Sunday night,” he said with no hint of regret. “My friendship with Mae lasted much longer.”

“Then you came back here often?” she asked, feeling a vague sense of regret and guilt that he’d spent these last years with her aunt, when she should have been the one spending time here.

“As frequently as I could,” he said. “Your aunt was a remarkable woman. I enjoyed my visits with her.”

“Even if she did live essentially in the middle of nowhere,” Savannah said, needing to remind herself that this man bore way too many resemblances to her ex-husband.

“Funny thing about that,” he said, picking up one of the few sugar cookies they’d managed to salvage and breaking off a bite. “I got used to the peace and quiet. And the phone lines, fax and Internet connections work just fine.”

“So even though you’re here for the holidays, I suppose you brought all of your equipment along,” she guessed.

“Of course.”

Savannah shook her head. “I hope you watch your cholesterol. Anybody who’s as much of a workaholic as you appear to be is clearly a heart attack waiting to happen.”

“I’ll try not to have one while I’m here,” he promised solemnly.

“Thank you for that. I’m afraid I don’t have the kind of insurance it would take to cover your medical expenses if you collapse and fall down the stairs.”

He grinned. “I do.”

“Well, then, I suppose you can stay,” she said grudgingly, thinking of the extra work involved in having a guest in a house that was all but falling down around them.

He regarded her with a wry expression. “I had no intention of doing anything else.”

“You’ll have to pitch in and help,” she said, deliberately ignoring his remark. “I’m afraid the inn isn’t officially ready for guests again.”

“I’m not a guest—not the way you mean, anyway. And I came expecting to take care of myself. The attorney said the refrigerator would be stocked, and I brought along plenty of food from the city.”

“Caviar, I imagine,” she said, feeling strangely testy at the thought of sharing the house with a man whose tastes, like Rob’s, probably ran to the expensive and exotic. “Maybe some imported Stilton cheese? Smoked salmon? The finer things you absolutely couldn’t live without?”

His grin spread. “Junk food, if you must know.”

Once again, Savannah felt the full effects of that devastating smile. She hoped he wouldn’t do it too often. It might make her forget that he was completely unsuitable for a woman who’d already been burned by a man who put his work before his family.