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His gaze met hers again. “I appreciate that.”
“Are you in some kind of trouble?” she asked.
He shook his head slowly. “I’m not wanted or anything, if that’s what you mean.”
The reply that popped into her head was that he most certainlywaswanted. Right now. By her. But she bit her tongue and didn’t speak. The fire snapped, and its scent made her nostrils burn. The glow from the flames painted his face in light and shadow, and she took advantage of the chance to explore it more thoroughly. He had a straight nose that began high and was on the large side. It made her think of royalty, that nose. His jawline was sharply delineated, and strong, and he hadn’t shaved in several hours. A soft dusting of dark whiskers coated his cheeks and his chin. Reaching up, she took off his hat, again moving without thinking first. It was unlike her to be this forward with anyone. But she took the hat off, and it was wet. His hair underneath, though, was dry. Brown and fire-glow red in places, when the firelight hit it. It was thick, wavy, but short. If it grew long, she thought, it would be curly. But short it couldn’t be. He kept it that way to keep it tame, she mused. He liked control.
And now who was pretending to have ESP?
“Stealin’ my hat, ma’am?” he asked, his voice very soft, very deep, and stroking her nerve endings like callused fingers on velvet.
“Umm…it’s wet.” Turning away to hide the rush of heat to her face, she hung the hat on one of the pegs beside the fireplace. Then she spoke to him over her shoulder, avoiding his eyes. “Might as well hang that shirt up here, too,” she told him.
His reply came from close beside her. “If you say so.” A second later, his damp denim brushed her arm as he leaned in close to her to hang it up beside his hat. His shoulder was pressed to hers, his hip. He looked down slowly, and his mouth was only inches from hers as he turned toward her….
“Ahem!”
Maya jumped and the stranger spun.
“Your cocoa is here,” Selene said, her mysterious silver eyes sliding from one of them to the other. She put the pot on the table, set a cup beside it and tossed a Denver Broncos sweatshirt over the back of the chair. “It belongs to a friend of mine, so make sure I get it back.”
“Thanks,” the man said. He took the sweatshirt and pulled it on over his T-shirt, arms first then poked his head through and sat back down.
Selene stood there watching the two of them intently.
“That’ll be all, Selene,” Maya said.
Sighing, looking very deep in thought, Selene turned and left them.
“Selene, hm?” the stranger said. “Fits her.”
“You think?”
“Sure. Mystical. Lunar. Isn’t it the name of some Greek moon goddess or something?”
“Could have been. Mom used to read lots of mythology.”
“So?”
She blinked, saw him looking at her, and, finally, read his eyes. “Oh. Maya. My name is Maya Brand.”
His brows went up.
“As in the Earth Mother goddess,” she explained.
“And does it fit?”
“Oh, I’m a long way from being anyone’s mother. I’m still…I mean, I…” She bit her lip. “You haven’t told me your name yet.”
He averted his eyes. “Caleb.”
“Just Caleb?” He didn’t answer.
Then she looked at her watch. “I have to go start the line dancing lesson.”
He met her eyes, held them. Then, slowly, he got to his feet. “That’s great. I’ve always wanted to learn line dancing.”
Oh, hell.
