Unforgettable. Rhonda Nelson

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      Trudy winced regretfully. “She doesn’t feel comfortable. You’d have to read the books to fully understand. Faith is worried that she won’t be able to pull off playing Zoe. Zoe is one tough cookie,” she conceded with a thoughtful nod. “She’s a kick-butt heroine. Brash, brave and sexy, wears slinky clothes and red lipstick. Nothing like Faith. Faith’s on the shy side, likes things calm and orderly. Sedate.” Trudy chuckled. “Zoe is far from sedate. Still,” she sighed, “I think that Faith is a whole lot more like Zoe than she realizes, and playing the part this weekend, I hope, will go a long way toward showing her that.”

      Another intriguing item, Lex thought, as though he needed to know another. Hell, he’d been instantly enchanted with her. Probably the less he knew about her, the better, but to his immense consternation and stupidity, that didn’t keep him from fishing for more. “And this Nash Austin character,” Lex said. “He’s her hero?”

      Trudy bobbed her head in assent. “Right. Her editor, John Wallace, is going to play his part. Faith said she couldn’t do it with a stranger, that it would simply be too difficult, too embarrassing.” Trudy’s eyes twinkled again and she regarded him closely. “The characters have a very steamy relationship.” She bounced on the balls of her feet. “They positively burn up the pages.”

      A sickening sensation swelled in his stomach, preventing him from making a comment. He grunted noncommittally and forced his lips into what he hoped resembled a smile. Time to cut bait, Lex decided abruptly. “Well, if everything is settled,” he told her, “I have a few things I need to attend to.”

      Like splitting wood for tonight’s fire. Regrettably, there was no wood fairy who would take care of the job for him, and he couldn’t afford to buy it by the cord, a luxury his competitors enjoyed. Like most everything else around here, he had to take care of it himself. He kept a minimal, yet well-trained staff, and had promised Christmas bonuses to them for taking on additional duties not found in their typical job descriptions. Thanks to Faith Bonner and her group, Lex would have enough money to make good on that promise as well as take care of a few pressing renovations—ones that were shuffled to the end of the list while he’d been fixing everything else that had gone kaput this season.

      “Oh, certainly,” she told him. “I think we’ve covered everything.”

      “Good. I’ll see you in the dining room this evening, then?”

      “We’ll be there.” With that, Trudy took her leave.

      Lex waited until she was out of earshot before he expelled a relieved breath. He didn’t have a problem discussing menu changes, or various decorations, or helping add little clues for the upcoming event.

      He did, however, have a problem thinking about Faith Bonner and her editor recreating scenes from her books in which they “burned up the pages.” For reasons he didn’t care to explore, the idea made him feel as if he’d eaten bad shrimp. Made him want to put his fist through a wall. Made him want to haul her to his bedroom and burn up the sheets, an act he’d make certain she’d find more agreeable than any flesh session she might dream up for her books.

      Which was completely out of the question.

      Time to eliminate thought with action, Lex decided abruptly. He stopped by the front desk and told George where to find him if something came up, then headed toward the back.

      The moment he stepped out into the porch, Beano lumbered to his feet and issued a short impatient howl, which meant one thing—please let me out of here. He’d gotten too big for that pen, Lex thought absently, regretting again having to put him up. He winced. “Sorry, buddy. Maybe later.”

      His skin suddenly prickled and he knew before he heard the creak of the rocker she was there. His step momentarily faltered. “Hi,” he managed to murmur. “Enjoying the view?”

      She toed the rocker to a stop. “Yes, I am. It’s gorgeous. So much color,” she said with a sigh. “It’s truly beautiful.”

      That weird connection he’d noted before made his scalp tingle, and simply looking at her caused a curious knot of anticipation to form in his belly. Lex told his feet to keep moving, to descend the steps and move toward the woodpile, so it was quite disconcerting when they led him across the porch, where he leaned against the railing right in front of her.

      “Every year I think that we’ll never have a prettier fall, and then the leaves start to change and inevitably prove me wrong.” He sighed as his gaze drifted proudly over the rugged terrain of his mountain. “I think it’s the landscape on this side of the mountain that makes the difference. All those valleys and ravines.”

      She nodded thoughtfully, gestured toward the black Lab and winced. Tension vibrated off her slim frame and it occurred to him that she probably wouldn’t have ventured outside to enjoy the view if Beano hadn’t been penned. “I’m really sorry about your dog,” she said. “He’s miserable, isn’t he?”

      “Ah, he’ll be all right,” Lex told her, watching the breeze flirt with her long curls. His gaze drifted to her lips and unwanted awareness sizzled along his nerve endings. “I’ll let him come in with me tonight and all will be forgiven.” He’d have to, otherwise other animals might mistake his dog for bait. He was a sitting duck in that pen. “I’m just sorry that he frightened you. Trudy mentioned you’d been attacked by a dog before.”

      “When I was little,” she confirmed with a nod. “Still, it was no reason to faint.” She shot him an embarrassed look. “Thanks for, uh, taking care of me, bringing me in and all that.”

      “No thanks necessary. I just wish he hadn’t frightened you.” Lex blew out a breath. “He’s big, but he’s harmless. He doesn’t realize his own strength.”

      She gazed dubiously at Beano down in the pen and looked as though she’d like nothing better than to believe him. Still, he could read the fear in every line of her body, from the faintly worried line between her brows to the rigid way she sat in the chair.

      Lex grimaced. “What kind of dog attacked you?” Probably a chow. Those animals had a reputation for attacking, particularly children. They were intimidated by humans who were larger than them, which put smaller adults and children at risk.

      She rolled her eyes and a smile teased her lips. “I’m too embarrassed to say.”

      Hmm. Not a chow then, or any of the larger breeds, obviously, or she wouldn’t be embarrassed. His lips twisted into a grin. “Was it a poodle?”

      That melted-caramel gaze cut in his direction. “Worse.”

      Worse? What could be worse than a poodle? What could be more ignoble than being attacked by a poodle? “Oh?”

      She heaved a resigned sigh. “It was a Chihuahua.”

      A shocked chuckle burst from his lips before he managed to swallow the rest of it. It took a tremendous amount of effort to flatten his lips. “A Chihuahua?”

      She cast him a droll look. “Yes, a mentally unstable Chihuahua. He was in the throes of an identity crisis at the time.”

      Lex crossed his arms over his chest, the woodpile and all the other pressing things on his to-do list forgotten. “An identity crisis, eh? How so?”

      “He thought he was a rottweiler.”

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