Wild in the Moonlight

that would cover everything.

“Now, there’s nothing to worry about, dear. Come on. We just want to put a little bit of lotion on your cheek. It won’t hurt. It’s made of witch hazel and apple vinegar and lavender and sage-”

“Oh, my God. No.”

“It’s supposed to make your skin feel really soft,” Dinah assured him. “That’s the whole point. To make it easier to shave-”

“Violet.” His gaze swiveled back toward her. Desperately. “I just need to talk to you. About some business-”

Harriet said, “There now. Just sit down. You can do all the business you want with Violet and we can test our little aftershave recipe on you at the same time. You’re not from Vermont, are you, but women here have been known to keep secrets for three and four centuries. No one will ever know you’ve been here, trust us. Don’t be scared-”

He backed out of the doorway and took off like a bat out of hell.

She couldn’t even try to catch up with him for several hours. She had to finish up the class and clean up, after which her two girls arrived to formally open the store for business. It was past ten before she could catch a five- minute stretch when the phone wasn’t ringing or some customer asking for her.

Then, though, she had a hard time finding him. She looked in the house, in the yard, in the greenhouses. His car was still parked by the barns, so he hadn’t left the property, but she was mystified where he might have walked. Finally she located him at her great-grandmother’s cottage.

Decades ago the cottage had been built to give Gram independence in a way that would keep her close to family. No one had lived there after Gram died until Camille had come home in the spring. The place had been fixed up then-except for the roof. That was the infamous roof she’d hired to have fixed so Cameron would have a place to stay. The roofer was supposed to show up this morning, but just like most mornings in a week, he’d neither showed nor called.

It was Cameron on top of the roof with a hammer in his hand, a box of shingles next to him. He’d yanked off his shirt, undoubtedly because of the sun beating down with baking intensity. His skin looked oiled and bronzed. All six cats were up there with him-either trying to help, or just wanting to be around the sexiest guy in three counties.

She felt the same way, but she stood below with her hands on her hips. “So. You’ve decided to take up a new career as a roofer?”

He turned around on a heel and rubbed a wrist on his damp forehead. “More likely a new career as escape artist. Those women aren’t still around, are they?”

“No.” Maybe last night was between them like an elephant in their emotional living room, but she still had to grin. “You’re safe.”

Apparently he wanted more proof. “And you don’t have any of that smelly aftershave concoction anywhere around, do you?”

“Why, Lachlan. The girls did scare you. Imagine, a big strong guy like you-”

“I’m not scared,” he said testily. “I just happened to come across this half-finished roof because of your cats. They were scared. Ran out of the place faster than I did and led me to the nearest high place.”

“You expect me to believe that half-baked story?”

“Look. I’m sure they were nice women. In fact, if I ever get attacked in the middle of the night by a gang of cutthroats, I’d really like them on my side. Especially the one-” he motioned vaguely “-you know. The one who’d rearranged the shape of her-”

“Breasts.”

“Yeah. So that they looked like two oranges poking out right under her chin. And the one with the hairy legs- you know, the one who looked as if she had more wrinkles than a Shar Pei? Look, it’s just a lot safer up here-”

“You’re killing me.” Damn man. They’d gotten into serious, deep waters last night. Mighty deep waters. Yet somehow he was making her comfortable, making her laugh.

He squinted down at her, his voice quieting. “Well, chere, it damn near killed me to sleep down the hall from you last night.”

Her pulse suddenly seemed to careen down a long, sleek hill. Who’d have guessed he would confront her hurt, confused feelings straight up? She took a breath. “Then why did you?”

“Because of the lavender. Because until we get some legal details discussed and agreed on, I’m representing Jeunnesse. That doesn’t have to be a complication. But I don’t want you worrying for even a minute that it could be.” He lifted a sheaf of papers from his side. “Have you got fifteen minutes to look at these?”

“Cam, I hate legal mumbo-jumbo,” she groused, but her pulse careened back up that long, sleek hill. So he hadn’t slept in the other room because he hadn’t wanted to be with her. And he was sure as hell still looking at her as if she were sugar and he was more than happy to take on the role of hummingbird.

“It won’t hurt, I promise. And no one will find us out here, so without interruptions, we can get it done fast.”

“I really don’t have a bunch of time. I can’t leave the girls alone for very long. They’re both really young-”

He heard all her protests, but he still had them sitting together on the porch steps of the cottage and the papers whipped out faster than lightning. He might be determined to talk, but Violet couldn’t seem to concentrate on his silly papers. His knee was grazing hers. She wasn’t sure if the touch was accidental, or if he was deliberately keeping in physical contact. But knees had never struck her as an intimate, erogenous zone before. Still didn’t. His knee was bony, his legs long and lanky and tanned, leading to sandals. Long feet. Very long. Really long big toes.

“…patent?” he asked.

“Hmm?”

“Patent, Violet. We’re talking about your applying for a patent for the new breeds of lavender you developed.”

“Okay.”

He sighed. “One of us doesn’t seem to be concentrating, because ‘Okay’ doesn’t answer the question. The question is-did you apply for a patent?”

“Um, no, not exactly.”

“In other words, no. All right. But listen seriously for a minute, okay? Because you need to know this. You want to patent both the product and the process. They’re two separate things. So I’m going to apply for both those patents in your name. It takes forever before you actually get your patents, but just by applying and starting the process, you have some serious legal protections.”

As boring and tedious as all this junk sounded, she started to feel guilty. “Cam, you don’t have to do this. I’ll get around to it, honestly.”

“No, you won’t. You’ve started yawning every time we started talking about this, and I can see the same suffering expression on your face now. So I’ll get the applications started. But if anyone else tries this on you, you say no, hear me? Because you can’t just go around trusting people.”

“Did you think I was worried you were going to cheat me?”

“You should be worried,” he said sternly.

“Gotcha.” She tried to look more attentive, but he was so right about the subject being boring-and he wasn’t. Besides which, his protectiveness was adorable, even if he did have knobby knees and really, really long big toes. His eyelashes were blond. Long and wonderful, but unless you were close enough to notice-which she was-you’d never realize they were so long and thick. And God, those eyes.

“You have to have a name for the strain of lavender you created. I don’t suppose you might have one in mind?”

“Sure do!” At last, a question she had answer for. “Moonlight.”

He paused. “That’s the name you want? Moonlight lavender?”

“Yup. My lavender isn’t as dark a purple as some strains, but it has a color that seems almost…translucent. A rich purple, almost as if the color seems lit from within. The way the light shines from the moon, you know?”

He looked as if he wanted to comment-possibly Moonlight wasn’t too formal a botanical name? But whatever, he changed his mind about commenting, plugged a pencil behind his ear and went on.