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The drive back to the Wilder estate was accomplished in silence as Noah and Sheila were individually wrapped in their own black cloaks of thought. Though separated from him in the car, Sheila felt mysteriously bound to the darkly handsome man with the knowing blue eyes.What’s he really like?her mind teased. In the flash of an instant she had seen him ruthless and bitter, then suddenly gentle and sensitive. She sensed in him a deep, untouched private soul, and she longed to discover the most intimate reaches of his mind. What would it hurt, her taunting mind implored. What were the depths of his kindness, the limits of his nature? He’ll hurt you, her bothersome consciousness objected. A man hurt you in the past, when you opened yourself up to him. Are you foolish enough to let it happen again? Just how far do you dare trust Noah Wilder, and how far can you trust yourself?
The Volvo slowed as Noah guided the car past the stone pillars at the entrance of the circular drive. The headlights splashed light on the trunks of the stately fir trees that guarded the mansion. As Ben Wilder’s home came into view, Sheila pulled herself from her pensive thoughts and realized that she had accomplished nothing toward furthering her purpose. She had intended to find a way, any way, to get the insurance proceeds to rebuild the winery, and she had failed miserably. She didn’t even know if Noah had the power or the desire to help her. Had the insurance company paid off Wilder Investments? The car ground to a halt as Sheila discovered her mistake. Caught in her fascination for a man she had been warned to mistrust, she had lost sight of her purpose for making the trip to Seattle.
“Would you like to come in for a drink?” Noah asked as he flicked off the engine and the silence of the night settled in the interior of the car.
“I don’t think so,” she whispered, trying to push aside her growing awareness of him.
“We have unfinished business.
“I know that. You’ve found a way to successfully dodge the subject of the winery all evening. Why?”
Noah smiled to himself. “I didn’t realize that I was. Would you like to come inside and finish the discussion?”
Sheila caught her breath. “No.”
“I thought you were anxious to get the insurance settlement,” he replied, his eyes narrowing as he studied her in the darkness.
“I am. You know that, but I happen to know when I’ve been conned.”
“Conned?” he repeated incredulously. “What are you talking about?”
“It was difficult to get you on the phone and when I finally did, you refused to see me with some ridiculous excuse that any decision about the winery had to be made by your father. Then you agreed to talk about it over dinner, but conveniently avoided the issue all night. Why would I think that anything’s going to change? You haven’t listened to me at all. . . .”
“That’s where you’re wrong. I’ve listened to everything you’ve said all evening,” he interrupted in a low voice.
“Then what’s your decision?”
“I’ll tell you that, too, if you’ll join me for a drink.” His hand reached for hers in the car. “Come on, Sheila. We’ve got the rest of the night to talk about anything you want.”
Again she felt herself falling under his spell, her eyes lost in his and her fingers beginning to melt in the soft, warm pressure of his hands. “All right,” she whispered, wondering why this man, thisstranger, seemed to know everything about her. And what he didn’t know, she wanted to divulge to him. . . .
The fire in the den had grown cold, and only a few red embers remained to warm the room. Noah quickly poured them each a drink and took a long swallow of his brandy before kneeling at the fire and adding a wedge of cedar to the glowing coals. As he stood, he dusted the knees of his pants with his palms. Sheila sipped her drink and watched him, noticing the way his oxford cloth shirt stretched over his shoulders as he tended the fire and then straightened. In her mind she could picture the ripple of muscles in his back as he worked.
When Noah turned to face her, she couldn’t hide the embarrassed burn of her cheeks, as if she expected him to read the wayward thoughts in her eyes.
“Can I get you anything else?” he asked, nodding toward the glass she held tightly in her hands.
“No . . . nothing . . . this is fine,” she whispered. “Good. Then why don’t you sit down and tell me what you intend to do with the insurance settlement, should it be awarded you.”
Sheila dropped gratefully into a wing-back chair near the fire and looked Noah squarely in the eyes. “I don’t expect you to hand me a blank check for a quarter of a million dollars, you know.”
“Good, because I have no intention of doing anything of the kind.” Sheila felt butterflies in her stomach. Was he playing with her again? His face was unreadable in the firelight.
“What I do expect, however, is that you and I mutually decide how best to rebuild Cascade Valley, hire a contractor, put the funds in escrow and start work immediately.” Her gray eyes challenged him to argue with her logic.
“That, of course, is assuming that the insurance company has paid the settlement to Wilder Investments.”
“Hasn’t that occurred?” Sheila asked, holding her breath. Certainly by now, over a month since the fire, payment had been made.
“There’s a little bit of a hitch as far as Pac-West Insurance Company is concerned.”
Sheila felt herself sinking into despair. “The arson?” she guessed.
Shadows of doubt crowded Noah’s deep blue eyes. “That’s right. Until a culprit is discovered, the insurance company is holding tightly onto its purse strings.”
Sheila blanched as the truth struck her. “You think my father had something to do with the fire.... You think he deliberately started it, don’t you?” she accused in a low voice that threatened to break.
“I didn’t say that.”
