Taken Beyond Temptation. Cara Summers

Memories.”

      “I knew it,” Jillian said. “He’s watching me.” Then because she couldn’t help herself, she twisted around in her chair and met his eyes. Big mistake. That was the one errant thought that tumbled into her mind even as her heart gave that now-familiar thud, and her throat went dry. Heat wasn’t the only thing she felt. Laced through it was an achy need that tempted her to get up, leave the table and go to him. Just go to him.

      Baffled, she gripped the arms of her chair. But she couldn’t find the will to drag her eyes away.

      “Should I call Nate and have him make an arrest?”

      The sound of Molly’s joking voice caught her just as she was about to lever herself out of her chair. To do what? Go to his room? That possibility gave her the strength to jerk her gaze away from the stranger and back to her friend. “No.”

      She felt breathless as if she’d just run to the top of a very steep hill. And nearly jumped off.

      She moistened her lips, keeping her eyes on Molly even as she felt him turn away. “He’s a guest here. I just can’t seem to stop … running into him.”

      “And that’s a problem because?”

      Jillian hesitated. Maybe talking about it would put what she was feeling—what he made her feel—into some kind of sane perspective. “I’m attracted to him.”

      “I got that much. For a second there, I thought you were going to leave me flat. Not that I would have blamed you. How long have you known him? ”

      “That’s just it. I don’t know him.”

      Molly lifted her glass. “Tell me everything.”

      She told Molly about their near collision on the hillside and then what had been happening all day. “There’s no reason for what I’m feeling.”

      Molly’s eyes widened. “I’ve only seen him twice—and my mind wasn’t really on it right after we’d seen the mess in the bookstore—but I think I could come up with quite a few reasons. If I weren’t so stuck on a certain sheriff, I’d consider putting myself on a collision course with Mr. Hunk. What’s his name by the way?”

      “I don’t know.”

      Molly tilted her head to one side. “You don’t know his name and you’ve got the major hots for him.”

      Jillian swallowed hard. “That would be it in a nutshell.”

      Molly spread her hands. “Well, there’s an explanation for it.”

      Jillian’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

      “Part of the reason he’s so attractive to you is because he is a stranger.”

      “And you know this because?”

      “I didn’t just take fashion courses in college. My minor was women’s studies. Being swept away by a stranger has been a classic fantasy for women for ages.”

      “A fantasy.” Jillian’s stomach plummeted. Her throat went dry.

      She thought of the fantasies she’d had at fourteen. There’d been reasons then why she’d wanted to be swept away. But that was then. This was now. “Why would a woman want to be swept away by a stranger?”

      “The fantasy has remained popular because it takes away all responsibility and fear of judgment for the woman. It boils down to really good sex without any of the morning-after and relationship worries.”

      Jillian reached for her glass and took a healthy swallow of champagne. “Well, it’s not my fantasy.”

      Molly studied her for a moment. “Methinks the lady doth protest too much.”

      Jillian thought of the fantasy box. Choose carefully. What you draw out will come true. “I came here to Haworth House to work.”

      Molly smiled. “You know what they say about all work and no play?”

      STANDING JUST INSIDE his room, Ian was able to keep his gaze on Jillian in the courtyard while he waited for Avery to join him.

      He’d lingered in Belle Bay until she’d finished with the sheriff, and keeping a discreet distance, he’d followed her back to the hotel. She’d spent the first hour after her return closeted with Avery. He’d used that time to scope out the hotel, something that he’d postponed when he’d decided to head into Belle Bay.

      He didn’t regret his decision to follow her into the village. He’d let Avery know his intention before he’d left, but they hadn’t had a chance to do more than set up this meeting since he’d returned.

      For the remainder of the afternoon, he’d done his best to keep her in sight while he stayed out of hers. Not that he’d been successful. Though they hadn’t actually physically collided or even had a near miss, she’d seemed aware of him several times.

      After she’d talked to Avery, she’d spent the rest of the afternoon touring all the public rooms of the hotel and furiously jotting notes on a pad. Once when she’d been in the hotel bar, their eyes had met briefly before he’d taken a stool and ordered a beer. Another time, she hadn’t turned, hadn’t even given him a glance, but he knew that she’d sensed him by the way her back had stiffened.

      Just as it had only moments ago when he’d stepped out onto his balcony. And before he could step back out of sight, she’d turned and met his gaze. He’d felt the impact slap into him with the power of a punch. Heat had seared through his system and ignited a fiery churning in his gut. For a moment everything else had faded except the desire to go to her. He wasn’t even aware that he’d moved until he bumped into the balcony railing.

      And it wasn’t until she’d turned back to her friend that he’d blown out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. No one—nothing—had ever pulled at him the way she did. Sure, he could rationalize the decision to follow Jillian around all day instead of interviewing hotel staff. The vandalism at her store could be connected to what had happened at the hotel. But when it came to what he’d been feeling a few moments ago, what he was still feeling now—he couldn’t figure that out at all.

      He glanced at the balcony railing. When she’d turned and met his eyes, his hands had closed around it. What had he been planning to do? Climb over it and drop to the courtyard below?

      There was definitely something about her—a connection—that he’d never felt with another person before. Not even with family. Perhaps that was why she had such a heightening effect on his senses.

      Earlier in town when he’d parked his car, he’d felt her gaze on him before he’d seen her out of the corner of his eye. And when she’d run out of the bookstore and nearly knocked him off his feet, he hadn’t wanted to let her go. He’d very nearly kissed her right there in the middle of Main Street. While he was supposed to be keeping a low profile.

      His training in tailing someone had been limited to what he’d seen in movies and read in novels. And those fictional guys seemed to have a lot more luck than he was having. Sooner or later, she wasn’t going to ignore him. As far as he could see, practicing avoidance wasn’t in Jillian Brightman’s nature. She took life on at full tilt. And he wasn’t going to be able to avoid her. He could hardly do what he’d been asked by hiding away in his room.

      When she did finally confront him, the results would be … interesting at the very least. She’d have questions and he’d have to come up with answers. He’d just have to make sure that nothing interfered with his protecting her.

      Because he had a nagging feeling in his gut—the one he’d always gotten when he was pulling a good research thread—that Jillian Brightman was in danger.

      The knock on his door had Ian striding forward and opening it.

      Avery entered, his usually beaming smile absent, and walked straight to the open balcony doors. “So what’s your take on what happened in the village?”