The Charmer. Kate Hoffmann

and turned off the highway onto what he assumed was a side road and then a few minutes later, into a narrow driveway, marked by two tall posts, studded with red reflectors. The woods were thick on either side, so it was easy to find the way through the trees.

      A yard light was visible as they approached and, before long, Alex could see the outline of a small cabin made of rough-hewn logs. She pulled up in front and turned to face him. “The front door’s unlocked,” she said. “I’m just going to put the Jeep in the shed.”

      Alex grabbed his things from the floor and hopped out, then walked through another knee-deep drift to get to the front steps. As he stamped the snow off his ruined loafers, the dogs joined him, racing through the darkness to the porch.

      He opened the door a crack and the animals pushed their way into the dimly lit interior. The cabin was one huge room, with a timbered ceiling and tongue and groove paneling. A stone fireplace covered one wall and windows lined the other. The décor was like nothing he’d ever seen before, every available space taken with bits and pieces of nature—a bird’s nest, a basket of acorns, a single maple leaf in a frame on a bent-willow table.

      He kicked off his shoes and stepped off the rug, but then froze as the dogs growled softly. They’d seemed so friendly in the car, but now they watched him suspiciously as he ventured uninvited into their territory.

      “The phone is over there.”

      He turned to see her standing in the shadows on the other side of the kitchen. “Do they bite?” he asked.

      “Only if I tell them to,” she murmured. There was a subtle warning in her tone. It wasn’t surprising, considering she just allowed a stranger into her home. For all she knew, he could be some deranged psycho—driving an expensive European sedan and wearing ruined Italian loafers.

      “I won’t make any sudden moves,” he said.

      She shrugged and walked out of the room, her heavy boots leaving puddles of water on the floor. Alex slipped out of his coat and tossed it over a nearby chair, then kicked off his shoes. When the two dogs approached, he held his breath. They sniffed at his feet, then each picked up a shoe and retreated back to the sofa with their prizes.

      “Give those back,” he pleaded. “No, don’t do that. You can’t eat those.” Alex heard footsteps behind him and he spun around, coming face-to-face with a woman of peculiar beauty. He glanced around the room. “Hello,” he said.

      He slowly took in the details of her face. She wore dark makeup on her eyes and her shoulder-length hair was cut in a jagged way, with streaks of purple in the bangs. Was this the woman who had rescued him? He’d imagined the face that went with the voice, speculated about the body, but this wasn’t at all what he’d expected.

      “They eat shoes,” she said, grabbing the loafers and handing them back to him.

      Only when he heard her voice was Alex certain. This was the woman who had rescued him. But the instant attraction he felt was rather disconcerting. She was the exact opposite of women he usually pursued. He liked blondes, tall and willowy, surgically enhanced and trainer-toned. This girl was petite, with an almost boyish figure, and a quirky sense of fashion.

      “Put them in the closet,” she said, pointing to a spot near one door. “They don’t know how to operate a doorknob…yet. They’re still working on tearing strangers limb from limb.”

      Alex smiled, but she didn’t return the gesture. She continued to regard him with a cool yet slightly wary stare. After he’d dropped his shoes in the closet, he surveyed his surroundings. “Nice place. Do you live here alone?”

      “No,” she said. “There are the dogs. And two cats. And I have two horses down in the barn.”

      “A regular Noah’s Ark,” he teased. She gave him an odd look and he decided be more direct. “So, you’re not married?”

      “Are you?”

      “No,” he said, chuckling. Crossing the room, he held out his hand. “I’m Alex Stamos.” He waited, growing impatient with the long silence between them. “Now, you’re supposed to tell me your name.”

      “Tenley,” she said, refusing his gesture.

      “Is that your first or last name? Or both. Like Ten Lee?”

      She shook her head. “I haven’t had dinner yet. Are you hungry?”

      “I could eat, Tenley,” Alex said. Odd girl with an odd name. Yet, he found her fascinating. She didn’t seem to be interested in impressing him. In truth, she didn’t seem the least bit fazed by his charm.

      Strange, Alex thought to himself. Women usually found him utterly mesmerizing from the get-go. He slipped out of his jacket and draped it over a nearby chair. His pants were damp and his socks soaked through.

      “You should probably call for a tow. Or your car is going to get covered by the drifts. The phone is over there.”

      “I’ll call the auto club.” He paused. “I don’t have the phone number. It’s on my BlackBerry, which is in the snowbank.”

      “I’ll call Jesse. He has the garage in town.” She walked over to the phone and dialed. Alex watched her from across the room, studying her features. She really was quite pretty in an unconventional way. Alex drew a slow breath. She had a really nice mouth, her lips full and lush.

      When she turned to face him, he blinked, startled out of a brief fantasy about the body beneath the layers of winter clothes. “He won’t be able to get to you for a while,” she said. “Maybe not until the morning.”

      “Did you tell him that wasn’t acceptable?”

      This caused a tiny smile to twitch at the corners of her mouth—the first he’d managed. “No. He’s busy. There are more important people than you stuck in the snow. You’re safe and out of the storm. Your car can wait. Now, if it’s acceptable to you, I’ll make us something to eat.”

      Alex cursed beneath his breath. He hadn’t gotten off to a very good start with Tenley. And hell, spending the evening in her company, sharing an intimate dinner, was far more intriguing that sitting alone in his room at the local bed-and-breakfast. “Can I give you a hand?” he asked, following her to the kitchen.

      HE SAT ON A STOOL at the kitchen island, his elbows resting on the granite counter top, his gaze following her every move. The tension between them was palpable, the attraction crackling like an electric current.

      What had ever possessed her to bring this man in from the storm? She thought she was doing a good deed. He probably would have survived just fine on his own. She could have come home, called the sheriff and let law enforcement ride to the rescue. But now it looked like she’d be stuck with him for the rest of the night.

      Tenley was accustomed to a solitary existence, just her, the dogs, the cats, the horses and those occasional demons that haunted her dreams. Having a stranger in the house upset the delicate balance—especially a stranger she found so disturbingly attractive.

      In truth, she wasn’t sure how to handle company. Since the accident almost ten years before, she’d made a habit of isolating herself, always maintaining a safe distance from anything that resembled a relationship. It was just easier. Losing her brother had sapped every last bit of emotion out of her soul that she didn’t have the energy or the willpower to engage in polite conversation. And that was what people expected in social situations.

      “Stop staring at me.” Tenley carefully chopped the carrot, focusing on the task and trying to ignore Alex’s intent gaze. She felt her face grow warm and she fought the urge to run outside into the storm to cool off.

      There was work to do in the barn; the horses had to be fed. She didn’t have to stay. But for the first time in a very long time, Tenley found herself…interested. She wasn’t sure what it was, but his curious stare had her heart beating a bit quicker and her nerves on edge. From the moment he’d offered his hand in introduction, she’d felt it.

      Maybe