The Edge of Eternity. Amanda Stevens

luggage on the back, he got behind the wheel and waited for Elizabeth and Paul to climb aboard. Then, letting out the clutch, he deftly maneuvered the cart along a narrow, twisting trail past a row of cottages. Elizabeth had to look closely to see them. They were spaced far apart for privacy and set so far back from the trail as to almost disappear in the woodsy setting.

      Pulling up in front of the last one, the bellman got out to open the front door. After Elizabeth and Paul entered, he went back out to collect their luggage, which he placed in the master bedroom. Wishing them a pleasant stay, he accepted Paul’s discreet tip, then disappeared.

      Alone with her husband again, Elizabeth glanced around. The clerk had been right. The cottage was very elegant and charming, furnished in autumn shades of gold, green and terra-cotta. The silk drapery and striped upholstery were luxurious almost to the point of decadence, and when she went to check out the bedroom, she discovered that no detail had been spared in that room either, including logs stacked in the fireplace.

      The bed was a large four-poster queen with a soft chenille spread and lots of cloudlike pillows that were instantly inviting. The rest of the furniture was dark and heavy, but the French doors leading out to a private terrace kept the room from being too dark and oppressive.

      Elizabeth walked over and opened one of the doors. “I can hear a waterfall,” she said absently.

      “It’s only about a quarter of a mile or so from here,” Paul said as he came up behind her. “Just along that trail.” He nodded in the direction of the path they’d come up. “Maybe we can hike up and see it tomorrow, if you feel like it.”

      Elizabeth swallowed back the panic that rose in her throat. Did he really expect her to do couple-type things with him this weekend? That wasn’t part of the deal. He’d said all she had to do was show up here so that Boyd Carter could see them together. Was he changing the rules on her now that they were here? And if so, what else might he expect of her?

      As Elizabeth turned from the door, her gaze lit on the four-poster. It was the kind of bed one could sink into, nestled in the arms of a lover….

      She swallowed again as she turned back to Paul. He hadn’t noticed that her attention had been caught by the bed, thank goodness. He was too busy picking up his suitcase and heading for the door. “I’ll take the small bedroom. You’ll be more comfortable in here.”

      “There’s another bedroom? I didn’t notice one.”

      “It’s on the other side of the living room,” Paul said. “The door was closed. That’s probably why you didn’t notice.”

      “But…how did you know it was there?” Elizabeth idly twisted a button at the top of her sweater. “No one said anything about two bedrooms.”

      He glanced away. “I’ve been up here before. I’m familiar with the layout.”

      He’d been up here before? Alone…or with a companion?

      Elizabeth watched him leave the room. When she heard him moving about on the other side of the cottage, she opened the French doors wider and stepped out on the terrace.

      The flagstones beneath her feet were slippery from the fog, and she took care as she walked about. The woods encroached to the very edge of the terrace, the giant, lacy firs casting a deep shadow over the space. It was colder out here, too, and the sound of the waterfall pounded an uneasy rhythm in the distance.

      Elizabeth could see the trail they’d come up, and where it led back into the trees, the mist thickened and swirled. For a moment the fog appeared to take on a human form, and then with a start Elizabeth realized that she really was seeing a man. He was walking toward the woods, but just before the shadows swallowed him, he turned. Elizabeth couldn’t see his face, but she knew that he was looking at her. A chill slid over her, and she quickly went inside and locked the door.

      After hanging her clothes in the roomy closet, she carried her toiletries into the bathroom, a luxurious, marble affair with a claw-foot tub large enough to accommodate two.

      A bath sounded like a wonderful idea, Elizabeth decided. She sat on the edge of the tub as she turned on the taps. The hotel had supplied a generous cache of bath salts and spa treatments, and as she dumped some into the running water, the fragrance floated on the air like a dream.

      She lit some candles, then quickly shed her clothing. Sinking down into the steamy bubbles, she lay her head back against the tub and let her muscles completely relax. She was only a blink away from dozing off when the room suddenly chilled. The candles flickered in the draft, and she sat up in alarm.

      “Paul?” she called nervously. “Is that you?”

      He didn’t answer, but Elizabeth decided he must have gone out to the terrace for a breath of fresh air. How else to explain the draft?

      Still, she couldn’t shake her uneasiness, and climbing out of the tub, she quickly dried off and wrapped herself in a thick terry-cloth robe. Tying the sash, she walked into the bedroom and checked the terrace doors. They were still closed and locked, and as she moved into the living room, she could see nothing amiss there either.

      Paul’s door was ajar, and she went over to knock, but then noticed that he was stretched out on his bed asleep. He looked so peaceful, she hesitated to wake him. One leg hung off the side of the bed, and an arm was thrown over his face to shield it from the grayish light that filtered through the window. He appeared to be asleep, but as Elizabeth watched, he stirred and dropped his arm to his side. Rather than rousing, he seemed to settle more deeply into his slumber.

      Elizabeth wasn’t quite sure why she did it, but she crossed the room and dropped to her knees beside the bed. Resting her chin on her folded arms, she watched him sleep.

      He had become a stranger to her, and yet his features were still so familiar. The thick, sweeping lashes she’d always envied. The well-shaped nose. The chiseled lips that still had the power to make her heart race.

      For a moment she was overcome with the irresistible urge to lean over and press her mouth to those lips. She even moved her head toward him, and then that strange draft blew through the cottage again.

      Getting to her feet, Elizabeth walked away from the bed to investigate. As she left Paul’s room, his cell phone began to ring. She paused just outside his door, knowing that she shouldn’t listen but unable to help herself.

      She heard the bedsprings creak as he rolled over and reached for the phone. “Hello?” he said sleepily. He listened for a moment. “We got in a little while ago. Where are you?”

      Another silence. Then he said, “No, it’s best if you stay where you are. I’ll see you in a little while.”

      He hung up and Elizabeth hurried back to her own bedroom, the source of the draft all but forgotten.

      She had something else on her mind now—like who had been on the other end of Paul’s phone conversation. She had a funny feeling that she already knew.

      PAUL COULDN’T BELIEVE he’d slept so long. He’d only meant to lie down for a few moments to rest, and then the next thing he knew, he’d awakened to the scent of Elizabeth’s perfume. He’d been dreaming about her, he supposed. Imagining that she had come to him the way she used to, soft and warm and fragrant from her bath. Her blue eyes dark and hooded with desire as she reached for him…

      Getting up, he stretched, then glanced at his watch. He had fifteen minutes to shower and dress before the welcome cocktail party got under way in one of the small ballrooms. If he was late, he doubted anyone would notice. On the other hand, Boyd Carter valued promptness almost as much as he did family.

      Wincing at the way Carter had him jumping through hoops, Paul went in to take his shower. He emerged a few minutes later and quickly dressed in a dark suit and silk tie. Then he crossed the living room to check on Elizabeth.

      Her door was open, and he could see her standing at the French doors, staring out into the darkness. Instead of knocking, Paul hovered on the threshold watching her. He could see her reflection in the glass and thought