The Jarrods: Temptation. Maureen Child

      “Right into the deep end then?”

      “Any reason to think you can’t swim?” Christian asked and watched as she seemed to consider his question.

      Finally, she shook her head, gave him a fierce, bright smile and said, “I’ll swim.”

      “I bet you will,” he said, staring at her as she picked up her leather-backed menu and perused the offerings. He wished to hell he didn’t find her more and more intriguing with every passing minute. What was it about this one small, curvy woman that had his body tied up in knots and his brain overheating?

      Was it the lure of the unattainable?

      He didn’t think so. There had been plenty of women when he was younger who had been out of his league. A townie kid with a single mom didn’t really have the means to play in the ball games of the rich and famous. But he wasn’t that kid anymore and he could have the pick of any woman he wanted.

      What he couldn’t figure out was why that didn’t seem to matter.

      The one woman he wanted was also the one woman he couldn’t have.

      Two hours later, Erica was alone in her suite. Sunset was deepening into twilight but here in her rooms, the lamplight was bright and she was too wrapped up in what she was doing to even notice the end of her first day in Colorado. Christian had gone back to work after their early meal—excusing himself as quickly as possible with a claim of having to get some work done before morning. Once she was on her own, Erica had done a little exploring.

      Now, she sat on the couch in her new living room and looked at all of the magazines, books, postcards and brochures she had spread out around her. She’d practically bought out the gift shop downstairs, buying up every item she could find pertaining directly to Jarrod Ridge.

      And there had been plenty to choose from. The brochures listed every activity to be found at the resort and the book described the history of the place. She’d stared at the black-and-white photos of her grandparents and biological father with a fascination that had kept her captive for nearly twenty minutes. The grainy images of men in worn jeans and cowboy hats were so far removed from the tidy heritage she’d grown up hearing about, it was fascinating. She’d looked for resemblances between the people in those old pictures and herself and she’d found them. The shape of her eyes, the curve of her mouth. It was odd to see something of herself in people she had never met.

      Yet in a weird way, it was almost comforting.

      Her family was bigger than she’d ever imagined. They had been adventurers, dreamers. Men and women who had come to the middle of nowhere and built a life, a legacy that had lasted. Their dreams had grown and blossomed and had become something very special.

      And she was a part of it.

      A very small link in a lengthy chain.

      When a knock sounded on her door, she was at first surprised, then a second later, a little worried about who might be dropping by. But then, she thought, it might be Christian. He might have decided to come back and take her on a little tour of the hotel. That thought spurred her off the couch and toward the front door. She fluffed her hair, smoothed her shirt and smiled to herself at the prospect of being with him again.

      But when she opened the door, there was a woman standing there, holding two bottles of wine.

      “Red or white?” she asked, walking past Erica into the living room.

      “I’m sorry?” Confused, Erica just watched her.

      “Red or white? Which do you prefer?”

      “Uh, that depends, I guess …”

      The woman grinned at her. “Good answer. I’m your sister, Melissa. And I’ve just stolen some wine from our brother Guy’s private reserve so that you and I can get to know each other.”

      Hard to feel out of sorts or uncomfortable with Melissa Jarrod beaming goodwill toward her. Although the woman did manage to make Erica feel a little frumpy in her wrinkled clothes. Melissa was wearing sleek black jeans, an off the shoulder, silk turquoise top and black sandals that were really nothing more than three slinky straps and a three-inch heel. Her long blond hair hung loose down her back and her wide blue eyes were sparkling with challenge and welcome.

      “You stole the wine from Guy?” Erica repeated, closing the door, then turning to face her sister.

      “Sure did. There may be hell to pay tomorrow, but tonight, we party.”

      “That actually sounds like a great plan,” Erica said, smiling.

      Melissa grinned right back. “Just so you know,” she said, “if we both drink it, we both face Guy’s wrath. A united sister front.”

      “Sisters,” Erica repeated.

      Melissa wrinkled her nose then shrugged. “I know. Sounds weird still, doesn’t it? Does to me, too. But I think you and I are going to make a terrific team.”

      Erica felt a bit of her earlier tension slide off her shoulders. Looking into her sister’s eyes, knowing that this welcome was genuine, made her feel that maybe making a home at Jarrod Ridge wasn’t going to be as difficult as she had thought it would be.

      “You know,” Erica said, “I think you’re right. So, do you know if they stocked wineglasses in my new kitchen?”

      Melissa led the way and threw back over her shoulder, “Since I’m the one who ordered the stocking done, I happen to know that wineglasses were first on the list.”

      “Excellent,” Erica said following her into the tiny kitchen. “I’ll make some popcorn, so let’s start with the white. What do you think?”

      Melissa set both bottles down onto the counter, then turned and held out her hand to Erica. “It’s a good choice. Guy stocks the best sauvignon blanc anywhere in Colorado.”

      “And how will he feel about us helping ourselves?” Erica asked as she took Melissa’s outstretched hand in hers for a shake.

      Shrugging, Melissa said, “Guess we’ll find out.

      Together?”

      “Together,” Erica agreed and for the first time since she’d arrived in Colorado, felt that there was a real chance she would be able to make her own place there.

      Then the two women moved companionably in the small kitchen, getting to know each other as they worked. Halfway through the second bottle of wine—they’d decided to open another bottle of white that had been stocked in Erica’s fridge—the two women were well on their way to being fast friends.

      “You make excellent popcorn,” Melissa announced.

      “Thank you. I told Christian I could cook.”

      “And was he impressed?” Melissa shook her head. “No, never mind. Probably not. The only things that impresses Christian are ledgers, files and injunctions.”

      “You’ve known him a long time?” Erica asked, settling back into the couch and curling her feet up beneath her.

      Melissa was tucked into the opposite corner of the couch. “Forever,” she said. “Since we were kids. Of course, back then, Christian was working for the resort and dear old dad didn’t approve of family and employees hanging out together. But I saw him all the time and the boys and he were sort of friends even back then. When Christian was a teenager, my father took an interest in him.” She frowned, took a sip of wine and said, “Dad loved to point out that Christian didn’t have any of the advantages that we had and yet his drive to succeed eclipsed ours.” Shaking her head at the memory, she said, “Let me tell you, there was a lot of irritation toward the great Christian when we were kids. Dad dangled his accomplishments in front of us like a perpetual taunt.” Melissa shook her head in memory. “Good thing Christian was such a nice guy or things might’ve gotten ugly. Anyway, my point is, once Dad noticed him, Christian was around the Manor a lot more.”

      Erica’s