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“We are what we are,” she said dryly.
“I have a housekeeper who comes twice a month. She’s the mother of one of our old classmates. Discreet and incredibly efficient.”
“Nice for you.”
They got out of the car in tandem. Now the wind was stronger and the temps lower. Tiny bits of sleet mixed in with the rain. Wynn took her arm as they rushed up the steps. Though it was odd and weird, she was glad of the support.
Inside, the house was quiet. Wynn went around turning on lights. Felicity rotated in a circle, taking it all in. An unpleasant snippet of envy curled in her stomach. As a flight attendant, she regarded her apartment as little more than a home base in between jobs.
But this...
“Wow, Wynn,” she murmured. “Your place is incredible.”
The main room was huge, and yet at the same time comfortable. The cozy furniture was oversize, perfect for naps and lounging. Bright rugs added warmth to the space. Overhead, an elaborate elk-horn chandelier cast a golden glow.
A massive fireplace dominated one wall. But it was flanked by windows that revealed the misty forest.
Wynn crouched in front of the hearth. “Thanks,” he said. “I like it, though I don’t get here as much as I had planned when I built it.” He lit a match. The already prepared wood and kindling burst into flame. Soon the blaze fed off the larger logs, and the heat finally reached the love seat where Felicity perched.
She kicked off her damp shoes and curled her legs beneath her, pulling a red wool blanket over her lap. Wynn had removed his coat. Now she could see the way his dark pants stretched over his butt and thighs.
He was a powerful man. In every way.
Her host stood. “You want coffee? Hot chocolate?”
“Hot chocolate would be wonderful.”
He nodded, his expression unreadable. “Won’t take me long.”
When he disappeared, Felicity sighed and nestled deeper into the cushions. She hadn’t slept well last night, worrying about whether she should come today. Now, as the warmth from the fire thawed her chilled body, she felt drowsy.
That was a bad idea. She needed to be on her guard.
She and Wynn were not friends. She wasn’t sure what they were, but they definitely weren’t friends. Her physical response to him told her to be wary of the situation.
After twenty minutes, he returned carrying a large wooden tray which he set on the wide leather ottoman. His tie had disappeared, and he had unbuttoned a couple of buttons at his throat.
The coffee he fixed for himself was black and probably strong...the way he always liked it. For Felicity, he had prepared a cup of steaming cocoa topped with whipped cream. She took one sip and knew it wasn’t from a packet.
“This is delicious,” she said. “Thanks.”
“Of course.” He took a seat on the sofa at right angles to her spot on the love seat. “Are you warmer now?”
“Oh, yes.”
She buried her face in her drink, unwilling to look at him in this intimate setting. Her body hummed with pleasure—stupid, imaginary pleasure. Like an amputee who still experiences phantom pain, Felicity felt her bones and muscles—even her very cells—respond to the man who had been her first love...her first lover. Fifteen years. Fifteen long years.
They had shared everything. Their hopes, their dreams, their bodies, their love. But in the end, it hadn’t been enough. Heartbreak and loss had torn them apart.
She finished her drink and set her cup on the tray. “Why am I here, Wynn? I’ve enjoyed seeing your house, but I’d like to get home before dark.”
He scowled. “Why such a hurry? Do you have a date tonight?”
Her face heated. Was he taunting her? “My plans have nothing to do with you. If you want to talk to me, talk.”
“Okay.” He lurched to his feet and paced. Occasionally he stopped and added more small pieces of wood to the fire.
Felicity waited him out. She had no idea what he wanted to say. Finally, he leaned against one of the raw wood support beams and crossed his arms over his chest. “Shandy named me as Ayla’s guardian.”
