The Jarrods: Temptation. Maureen Child

as she followed after him.

      “Yeah, it is. Down here is your suite, plus two more. Farther along this hall, you’ll find the kitchen, the great room and what was Don’s office. My office is down on the main floor, but I do most of my work at home.”

      “Right. You don’t live at the Manor. Where’s your place from here?”

      He steered her toward one of the high, arched windows lining the hallway and pointed. “See the red roof just past that tall pine?”

      She did. The building couldn’t be more than a five-minute walk from where she was standing. “Close.”

      “It is. So if you ever need anything …”

      He was standing so near, she felt heat radiating from his body toward hers. He smelled so good, she wanted to breathe deeper and when she looked up into those chocolate-brown eyes, she had the strangest desire to lean in and … What was she thinking? Didn’t she have enough going on in her life at the moment?

      “Thanks,” she said abruptly, taking a safe step back from him. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

      He watched her for a second or two and Erica wondered if he could tell what she’d been thinking. If he could see that she had been wondering what he would taste like. If his lips were as soft and warm as they appeared to be.

      But if he did know, then he was as determined as she to not draw attention to it. He scrubbed one hand across his face, then waved one arm out in front of him in silent invitation to continue on down the hall. He walked beside her and the heels of their shoes sounded out like gunshots in the stillness.

      When he finally stopped in front of a door and opened it, Erica stepped past him and stopped dead on the threshold.

      It was gorgeous, which shouldn’t have surprised her. Everything about Jarrod Ridge was breathtaking. But somehow, she hadn’t expected her room to be so … wonderful. After all, she was the stranger here and from what she could tell so far, her new brothers and sister had been no more thrilled to hear of her existence than she had been to hear about them. She’d half expected an ordinary hotel room, lovely, but generic. This, she told herself as she walked farther into the room, was anything but generic.

      The living room was done in various shades of blue. Pale blue walls, dark blue, overstuffed furniture, cobalt vases stuffed with flowers dripping heavy scent into the air and navy blue drapes at the arched windows. The wood floor was dotted with braided rugs in shades of blue and cream and even the fireplace was fronted by tiles that looked like delft.

      “Wow,” she said and even that word was just so insignificant to the task.

      “Glad you like it,” he said, moving into the room behind her.

      “What’s not to like?” She did a slow turn, trying to see everything at once. Then her gaze landed on Christian again. “To tell the truth, I wasn’t expecting anything like this.”

      He grinned briefly and something inside her twisted up tight in response. Really, the man had an almost magical smile. Good thing he didn’t use it often.

      “What were you expecting? A cell in a dungeon?”

      She smiled and shrugged. “No, not that bad, but nothing so …”

      “Melissa suggested you stay in this suite. She thought you’d like it and your brothers had no objection.”

      “No objection.” Well, that was something, she supposed. “It was thoughtful of Melissa.”

      “You’ll like her. She’s looking forward to meeting you.”

      “And my brothers?”

      He paused for a long moment before he said, “They’ll come around.”

      “Just one big happy family, huh?” Funny, her excitement-driven nerves had become anxiety-driven in the blink of an eye. It seemed there were plenty of hard feelings for everyone to get through before they could even begin to relate to each other.

      “You have as much right to be here as they do,” he told her.

      “Do I?” Erica shook her head and frowned as she threw out both hands as if to encompass the entire resort. “They grew up here. I’m the interloper. This is their home.”

      “The home that every one of them escaped from the minute they got the chance.”

      Her hands fell to her sides. “Why did they? Was Don Jarrod such a bad father?”

      “Not bad,” he said, crossing the room to stand by her side. “Just busy. Opinionated.” Christian smiled ruefully. “He wasn’t even my father and he was full of orders about what I should do with my life and the best way to do it.”

      “Sounds familiar,” Erica mused, strolling to the window and staring out at the pool area and the mountains beyond. “I grew up with a father much like him. Ironic, isn’t it?”

      “Maybe that insight will make it easier for you to understand your siblings.”

      “I guess we’ll see. Seems strange that this lovely place is practically empty. It’s sad, somehow. That none of the Jarrods want to live in their family home.”

      “Well,” Christian allowed, “like I told you, Don wasn’t the easiest father in the world. Most of them have issues with the place and aren’t very happy about the way their father arranged getting them back to Aspen.”

      She sighed a little. “So, we’ve got father troubles in common, anyway.”

      “You could say that.” He shoved his hands into the back pockets of his jeans and watched her as she walked to the sofa in her new home. “Speaking of your father, how’d it go when you spoke with him about all of this?”

      Erica shot him a look. “As I expected. He didn’t want me to come.” “Why did you?”

      She stopped, leaned over and picked up a throw pillow. She ran her fingertips across the heavily embroidered fabric, then set it down again. “I had to. I had to come and see and …”

      “Find yourself?” he offered.

      She laughed a little. “Sounds pompous, doesn’t it?”

      “Not really. I’ve been lost before. It’s not always easy getting found again.”

      Erica tipped her head to one side and studied him. He looked so in control. So at home. So sure of himself, it was hard to imagine that he might have suffered self-doubt or anxiety. But she supposed everyone did from time to time. The trick was to not let those times get the best of you.

      She turned around and let her gaze slide across the room that would be her home for who knew how long. There was a hallway off the living room that she assumed led to the bedroom and— “You said there was a stocked kitchen?”

      “Yep.” He pointed. “Right through there.”

      She went to investigate and off a short hall, she found a two-burner stove, a small refrigerator and several cupboards. The fridge was stocked with water, wine and soda along with fresh vegetables. There was a bowl of fruit on the abbreviated counter and she noticed that the window in the kitchen overlooked an English-style garden.

      “You hungry?” Christian’s voice came from directly behind her.

      She turned around to look at him and admitted, “Actually, I am.”

      “Why don’t we go get some lunch downstairs? I can answer your questions and you can meet one of your brothers at the same time.”

      That brother being Guy, she reminded herself. The chef. Well, that meeting just might kill her appetite, but gamely she said, “Give me one minute to freshen up and I’m ready.”

      Ready for all of it, she added silently.

Five