turned and ran backward, laughing and taunting him. He called out something to her. She grabbed the hem of her top and tugged it up, flashing her bare breasts.
'Whoa…' Kevin said.
Molly felt her skin grow hot.
The man caught her around the waist and dragged her into the woods so that they weren't visible from the road, although Kevin and Molly could see them clearly. He leaned against the trunk of an old maple. She immediately jumped on him and wrapped her legs around his waist.
Molly felt the slow pulse of dormant blood stirring as she watched the young lovers begin to devour each other. He cupped her bottom. She pressed her breasts to his chest, then, resting her elbows on his shoulders, caught his head to steady it, as if she weren't already kissing him deeply enough.
Molly heard Kevin move behind her, and her body gave a sluggish throb. She could feel his height looming over her, his warmth penetrating her thin top. How could someone who made his living with sweat smell so clean?
The young man turned his lover so that her back was against the tree. He pushed a hand under her T-shirt and covered her breast.
Molly's own breasts tingled. She wanted to look away, but she couldn't manage it. Apparently Kevin couldn't either, because he didn't move, and his voice sounded vaguely husky.
'I think we've just caught our first glimpse of Amy and Troy Anderson.'
The young woman dropped to the ground. She was petite but leggy, with dishwater-blond hair pulled up in a purple scrunchy. His hair was darker and cut close to his head. He was thin and quite a bit taller than the girl.
Her hands slipped between their bodies. It took Molly only a moment to realize what she was doing.
Unzipping his jeans.
'They're going to do it right in front of us,' Kevin said softly.
His comment jerked Molly out of her trance. She bolted up from the computer and turned her back to the window. 'Not in front of me.'
His eyes drifted from the window to her, and for a moment he didn't say anything. He just gazed at her. Again that sluggish pulsing in her bloodstream. It reminded her that even though they'd been intimate, she didn't know him.
'Getting a little hot for you?'
She was definitely warmer than she wanted to be. 'Voyeurism isn't my thing.'
'Now, that surprises me. This should be right up your alley, since you seem to like preying on the unsuspecting.'
Time hadn't diminished the embarrassment she felt. She opened her mouth to apologize once again, only to have something calculating in his expression stop her. With a shock she realized that Kevin wasn't interested in groveling. He wanted to be entertained with an argument.
He deserved her very best, but her brain had been inactive for so long, it was hard to come up with a response. 'Only when I'm drunk.'
'Are you saying you were drunk that night?' He glanced out the window, then back at her.
'Totally wasted. Stoli on ice. Why else do you think I behaved like that?'
Another look out the window, this one lasting a bit longer. 'I don't remember you being drunk.'
'You were asleep.'
'What I remember is that you told me you were sleepwalking.'
She managed a huffy sniff. 'Well, I hardly wanted to confess that I had a problem with alcohol.'
'Recovered now, are you?' Those green eyes were much too perceptive.
'Even the thought of Stoli makes me nauseous.'
His gaze raked a slow, steady path over her body. 'You know what I think?'
She swallowed. 'I'm not interested.'
'I think I was just irresistible to you.'
She searched her imaginative brain for a scorching comeback, but the best she could come up with was a rather pitiful 'Whatever makes you happy.'
He shifted his position to get a better view of the scene outside. Then he winced. 'That's got to hurt.'
She wanted to look so badly she could barely stand it. 'That's sick. Don't watch them.'
'It's interesting.' He tilted his head slightly. 'Now, that's a new way to go about it.'
'Stop it!'
'And I don't even think
She couldn't stand it any longer, and she whirled around, only to realize that the lovers had vanished.
His chuckle had an evil edge. 'If you run outside, you might be able to catch them before they're done.'
'You think you're funny.'
'Fairly amusing.'
'Well, then, this should really entertain you. I dipped into Aunt Judith's computer records, and the B &B seems to be booked solid into September. Most of the cottages, too. You won't believe how much people are willing to pay to stay here.'
'Let me see that.' He pushed past her to get to the computer.
'Enjoy yourself. I'm going to find someplace to stay.'
He was busy scanning the screen, and he didn't respond, not even when she reached over him to pick up the piece of notepaper she'd used to jot down the names of the vacant cottages.
A pegboard hung on the wall next to the desk. She found the appropriate keys, stuck them in her pocket, and made her way through the kitchen. She hadn't eaten that day, and on the way she picked up a leftover slice of Charlotte Long's cranberry bread. The first bite told her that Mrs. Long had been right when she'd said she wasn't much of a cook, and she dropped it in the trash.
When she reached the hallway, curiosity won out over her fatigue, and she climbed the steps to see the rest of the house. Roo trotted at her side as she peered into the guest rooms, each of which had been individually decorated. There were book-filled nooks, pretty views from the windows, and the homey decorating touches people expected at an upscale B &B.
She spotted a bird's nest filled with antique glass marbles on top of a stack of vintage hatboxes. An arrangement of apothecary bottles sat near a wire birdcage. Pieces of embroidery in oval frames, old wooden signs, and wonderful stoneware vases that should have held fresh flowers were tucked here and there. She also saw unmade beds, overflowing trash cans, and grubby bathtubs draped with discarded towels. Clearly Amy Anderson would rather cavort in the trees with her new husband than clean.
At the end of the hallway she opened the door into the only room that hadn't been rented out. She knew because it was tidy. Judging from the family photos propped on the dressing table, the room had belonged to Judith Tucker. It occupied the corner of the house, including the turret. She visualized Kevin sleeping beneath the carved headboard. He was so tall, he'd have to lie across the mattress.
An image of the way he'd looked the night she'd slipped into his bed came back to her. She shook it off and made her way downstairs. As she stepped out onto the front porch, she smelled pine, petunias, and the lake. Roo stuck his nose in a flowerpot.
She wanted nothing more than to sink into one of the rockers and take a nap, but since she wasn't going to join Kevin in Aunt Judith's bedroom, she needed to find a place to stay. 'Come on, Roo. Let's go visit the empty cottages.'
One of the computer files had contained a diagram that marked the location of each cottage. As she approached the Common, she noticed the small, hand-painted signs near the front doors: Gabriel's Trumpet, Milk and Honey, Green Pastures, Good News.
As she passed Jacob's Ladder, a handsome, rawboned man came through the woods. He looked as if he was in his early to mid-fifties, significantly younger than the other residents she'd spotted. She nodded and received a brusque nod in response.
She headed in the opposite direction, toward Tree of Life, a coral cottage with plum and lavender trim. It was empty, as was Lamb of God. They were both charming, but she decided she'd like more privacy than the cottages on the Common afforded, so she turned away and walked back toward the more isolated ones that perched along the lane that paralleled the lake.
An odd sense of deja vu came over her. Why did this place seem so familiar? As she passed the B &B, Roo
