Nora Roberts - Night Tales 01 by Night Shift

Author:Night Shift [Shift, Night]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2011-12-06T20:45:13+00:00

Chapter 8

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One didn’t intend to romanticize it. Being swept away was fine in books about titled ladies and swaggering buccaneers. But it didn’t play well in twentieth-century Denver.

She didn’t intend to change her attitude. If the only revenge available to her was keeping a frosty distance, she would keep it very well. He wouldn’t get one smile or one kind word until the entire ridiculous weekend was over.

That was why it was a shame that her first glimpse of the house was in the moonlight.

He called this a cabin? Cilia was grateful the music masked her surprised gasp.

Her idea of a cabin was a squat little log structure in the middle of nowhere lacking all possible conveniences. The kind of place men went when they wanted to grow beards, drink beer and complain about women.

It was built of wood—a soft, aged wood that glowed warm in the dappled moonlight. But it was far from little. Multileveled, with interesting juts of timber and windows, it rested majestically amid the snow-dusted pine. Decks, some covered, some open, promised a breathtaking view from any direction. The metal roof glinted, making her wonder how it would be to sit inside and listen to rain falling.

But she stubbornly bit back all the words of praise and pushed out of the car.

The snow came up to midcalf and clogged in her shoes.

“Great,” she muttered. Leaving him to deal with whatever luggage they had, she trudged up to the porch.

So it was beautiful, she thought. It didn’t make any difference. She still didn’t want to be there. But since she was, and hailing a cab wasn’t a possibility, she would keep her mouth shut, choose the bedroom farthest away from his and crawl into bed. Maybe she’d stay there for forty-eight hours.

Cilia kept the first part of the vow when he joined her on the porch. The only sounds were the planks creaking under his weight and the calling of something wild in the woods. After setting their bags aside, he unlocked the door and gestured her inside.

It was dark. And freezing. Somehow that made her feel better. The more uncomfortable it was, the more justified her foul temper. Then he switched on the lights. She could only gape.

The main room at the cabin’s center was huge, an open gabled structure with rough-hewn beams and a charming granite fireplace. Thick, cushy furniture was arranged around it. Its freestanding chimney rose up through the high, lofted ceiling. Above, a balcony swept the width of the room, keeping with the theme of open space and wood. In contrast, the walls were a simple white, accented with glossy built-in shelves and many-paned doors and windows.

This was nothing like the arches and curves of his house in Denver. The cabin was all straight lines and simplicity. The wide planked floors were bare. A set of gleaming steps marched straight to the next level. Beside the fireplace was an open woodbox stacked with split logs. A touch of whimsy was added by grinning brass dragons that served as andirons.

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