Forever Instinct, The by Delinsky Barbara

Author:Delinsky, Barbara
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781472102287
Publisher: Canvas

WILDWOOD WAS A GRAND OLD INN in southern New Hampshire, set at the far end of its own private road beneath towering elms whose leaves had fallen and majestic firs whose needles had not. Wondering if she’d made the right choice, knowing she truly had no choice at all, Jordanna pulled her rented Chevy to a halt beside Patrick’s Jeep in the gravel lot.

He was there to help her out, his expression one of tense anticipation, even uncertainty, if her interpretation was correct. “Let’s bring the packs,” he suggested quietly. “They’ll wash whatever we want.” Taking her keys from her, he removed the backpack from her trunk, slung it over one shoulder, secured his own on the other and started up the flagstone path toward the inn’s broad front steps.

Jordanna would have protested his carrying both packs, but she caught herself. Divested of sleeping bags and pads, not to mention the food and other equipment that they’d been hauling around all week, the packs weren’t heavy. And he was already halfway there, climbing the steps, holding the bright white door open for her.

Trotting to catch up, she preceded him into the stately front hall, then stood aside as he approached the registration desk. He didn’t look back, didn’t ask if she wanted her own room. It would have been a foolish question. After last night, there could be no pretense between them. This elegant old inn with its high ceilings, turn-of-the-century moldings and graceful winding staircase was a reprieve. Jordanna could no more have resisted it than she could have the vulnerable look Patrick sent her when a bellboy materialized to lead them to their room. She answered it with a tremulous smile, quickly averting her gaze and concentrating on following the bellhop.

Their room was large, dominated by ceiling-high windows and a roomy four-poster bed. A heavily sheened mahogany dresser stood against one wall, a similarly finished desk against another. Before the window was a cushiony armchair upholstered in a large floral print of green, burgundy and white; nearby stood a matching lounge chair. The overall effect was of bright airiness and down-home New England charm. Jordanna knew Patrick had stayed there before. He’d chosen well the site for a tryst.

With their packs deposited on a long luggage rack and the bellhop gone, they were somewhat ill-at-ease. Jordanna’s eye skimmed the room again, coming to rest on the bathroom door. Though the late-afternoon sun poured into the room, the bellhop had switched on that light in his brief tour.

She dropped her gaze, focused on her muddy hiking shoes, took in the dirty sheen of her pants, then her jacket. Whether it was the utter cleanness of the room or the simple cumulative effect of five days with makeshift bathing, or the fact that Patrick would be seeing her, truly seeing her for the first time, she suddenly felt overwhelmingly grubby.

When she looked up, he was craning his neck against the collar of his T-shirt, using a finger to separate it from his skin.

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