Chapter Eight
Unable to sleep, a creak in the floorboard alerted Cilla to a presence outside her door. The guests hadn’t come home yet. That meant it had to be Alex. Why was he up and about?
She rolled out of bed, grabbed her robe, and tugged it on as she jammed her feet into a pair of canvas sneakers. She expected to find him foraging in the kitchen, but it was empty. Her gaze fell on the back entrance. It was no longer locked. She opened the door and stepped outside.
The sultry heat of the day had cooled, but it was still warm. The scent of roses was heavy in the air. Stars twinkled overhead, but there was no sign of Alex.
Where had he disappeared to? Crossing the lawn, she listened intently and heard the call of a crow. It seemed to be coming from deeper in the garden. Ignoring it, she checked the benches and the side yard. Sometimes guests liked to sit out and enjoy the late-night quiet.
When the crow cawed again, she started toward it, pausing at the entrance to the overgrown rose garden. Surely Alex hadn’t gone back there. It was the darkest part of the garden, not to mention there was the real possibility of snakes. She nibbled on her bottom lip, trying to decide what to do.
If he wasn’t there, she’d assume he’d gone for a walk and take herself back to bed. Before she could talk herself out of it, she ducked and ran through the overgrown path, straightening as she exited.
Alex stood in the shadows with only the moon and stars illuminating him. He appeared larger and more mysterious than ever. Beyond him, a crow was perched on the railing of the gazebo. “Friend of yours?” She canted her head in the bird’s direction.
He frowned and shook his head. “No. What are you doing here?”
What was she doing here? She’d acted without thinking.
In hindsight, her actions seemed almost stalkerish.
There was nothing to do but brazen it out.
“I heard you pass outside my door.” She tightened the belt on her robe.
“I thought you might need something.” It was a lame excuse, but it was the best she could do under the circumstances.
The bird abruptly took flight, coming directly at her in a wild flapping of wings. “Oh my goodness!” Cilla threw up her arms to protect her head and stumbled backward, her feet slipping out from beneath her.
Strong hands caught her before she hit the ground and jerked her upright. Breathless, she clutched Alex’s arms for support. “What possessed the crow to do something like that? I’ve never had one fly at me before.”
“Forget the damn bird. Why did you follow me out here?” She flinched at the biting edge of his voice. His eyes were hard as flint. He was seriously angry.
She squared her shoulders and jerked away. “Might I remind you, I own this property. I can go wherever I damn well please.”
Although the night air was warm, she shivered. Her palms began to sweat. It reminded her too much of her married days when she was always worrying about her husband’s reactions.
Well, to hell with him and to hell with all men. Whirling around, she stomped toward the exit. Whatever reasons he had for being out here were none of her concern.
A heavy hand fell on her shoulder. She ducked to one side and spun around, clenched fists raised. “Don’t touch me.”
He raised his hands in surrender. “I’m sorry for biting your head off. I’m angry and I took it out on you.” He huffed out a breath and dragged a hand through his hair. “For what it’s worth, I would never, ever hurt you.”
He seemed truly upset by her reaction. She slowly lowered her fists, shocked by his apology.
Again, he was proving himself to be different from the men she’d known.
“Yes, well, I shouldn’t have followed you.
You obviously wanted to be alone.” She’d invaded his privacy.
“Thing is, this garden is off-limits to guests. It’s not safe.
I don’t want you or anyone to get hurt.”
He went to the gazebo and sat on the top step, his forearms braced on his thighs, his hands linked in front of him. He looked…alone. She glanced at the path and back at Alex. Sighing, she gripped the lapels of her robe and eased toward him. “Is everything okay?”
He shook his head and tilted it back to stare up at the stars. “You ever have the feeling your life is spinning out of control and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it?”
It was odd to think about a man as big and strong as Alex, one who carried himself with such confidence, as having insecurities.
It made him more approachable, more…human.
She gingerly sat beside him, keeping an eye out for snakes.
There wasn’t much space on the step. Their shoulders brushed before she turned slightly and rested against the post of the railing that circled the gazebo.
“That’s currently the story of my life.”
Silence spun out between them, but it was surprisingly comfortable.
Cilla straightened the edges of the robe over her knees and began to talk about her private life for the second time today, something totally out of character.
For whatever reason—maybe the late hour or the quiet or maybe it was Alex—she was compelled to share.
“I married young.” His head snapped toward her, but he remained silent.
It was unnerving to be the center of his full attention.
Rather than look at him, she played with the ends of the fabric belt.
“He and my brother are friends. Looking back, that should have been a warning.” Hindsight was always twenty/twenty.
“I was twenty-two and fresh out of college when Christopher Hughson and I wed. My Grandmother Wainwright did her best to discourage it. Said I was too young and needed time to grow into the woman I was meant to be before I took that plunge. I didn’t listen, so sure I knew it all. I was in love. Or thought I was.”
Alex’s hands covered hers, stilling the nervous gesture. “What happened?”
“It’s not an original story. He wanted a woman he could mold into the perfect wife.
I was young and naive, had been sheltered more than I understood back then.
Christopher was older and sophisticated.
I tried to please him. One day I woke up and realized not only did I not know myself, I didn’t even like myself anymore.
” She tugged her hands out from under his, pulled her knees up to her chest, and wrapped her arms around them. Shame threatened to drown her.
“It took guts to leave.”
Points to him for understanding that. Her grandmother had been the only other person who had. And Rosa. Everyone in their circle of friends in Asheville had thought she’d lost her mind and had been quick to tell her what a huge mistake she was making.
“Both my ex and my brother told me I was being immature, that I needed to grow up and accept life as it really was.” The constant emotional battering had taken a toll. She’d lost weight, had been unable to sleep, and had second-guessed her decision more than once.
Alex snorted. “And being mature meant doing what they wanted you to. That’s manipulation, pure and simple.”
“Yeah, I finally figured that out and held my ground. My ex dragged out the divorce for as long as he could but finally caved when I told him he had two choices. I’d forgo any settlement if he signed the papers.
If he refused, I’d get the best divorce lawyer money could buy and take him for as much as I could.
In the end, his wealth meant more than punishing me for not wanting to stay. ”
She was grateful Alex made no comment about her ultimatum. “The papers were signed and filed, and I was in the process of packing up to come back here to lick my wounds and figure out what my next step was when I got word my grandmother had died. She left me Ivy House and the rest is history.”
“Is this where you want to be?”
Tilting her head to one side, she studied his strong profile.
No one had ever asked her that question.
She hadn’t even asked herself. “I never really thought about it. Ivy House has always been where I felt most at home.” It was the place she belonged.
“I love the house and gardens. It needs work, but I’m making steady progress. ”
“It’s an incredible home.”
“Some people don’t think so.”
“Richard?”
“Among others.” She wasn’t getting into that again tonight. She’d already overshared as it was.
“Speaking of the house.”
Her hackles rose, but that was a kneejerk reaction. “What about it?”
“The showerhead broke when I was taking a shower.”
Groaning, she buried her face against her knees.
“I’m so sorry. Grandmother renovated four of the suites before she passed but hadn’t gotten to the one you’re in.
After I inherited, I put time and money into the kitchen and public rooms downstairs.
I’m sorry about that faulty plumbing. I’ll call someone to fix it first thing in the morning. ”
“Or you could buy the necessary hardware and let me replace it. I could do other repairs around the place.” He waved a hand in front of him. “Including tackling this area.”
As much as she’d love the help, she shook her head.
“I can’t afford to hire you.” She needed to get to the end of the tourist season and sit down with her accountant before she decided what project to tackle next.
Painting the outside of the house was a priority.
Appearance counted when you were running a heritage B&B.
“I’m not comfortable staying here for free. Let’s call it a trade. I do some work in exchange for a place to live while I’m in town.”
Excitement quivered inside her, both at the idea of getting work done and Alex staying longer. She stomped it down. “I couldn’t allow you to do that.”
“Then I’ll have to pack my things and leave.”
Her jaw dropped. She snapped it closed. “That’s blackmail.”
He shook his head. “No, it’s what I can live with.”