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“I’ll be fine,” Jecca said. “I just want to sit here and look and listen and smell those roses. I’m going to come up with a series of twelve paintings for your jewelry. Since half of them have to inspire you to create sometas hing magnificent, I have to plan carefully.”

Kim kissed her friend’s cheek. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Jecca nodded and leaned back on the chaise. She’d moved it so she was closer to the pond. During the day it would be in the sun, but now it was twilight. It was growing cool, and she was glad she’d picked up a cardigan.

She yawned. It had been a long day with the drive down. She’d left late last night, as there were a thousand things to do to close up the gallery, not least of which was dealing with unhappy artists.

“But my work is selling here” she’d heard over and over. “Why can’t she leave the gallery open while she’s away? It’s not like Andrea does any actual work.”

Jecca had agreed completely, but she’d had to smile and murmur things about Andrea doing more than people saw.

All in all, it had been a frantic week. Now, the approaching darkness and the sound of frogs in the pond were lulling her to sleep. The chaise was well cushioned. She leaned her head back, closed her eyes, and began to dream of Reede in a helicopter.

When something heavy fell on her, she awoke with a start. When she realized it was a man that had landed on her, she let out a little scream and began to push at him. There was no moon, no outdoor lights, and it was pitch-dark so she couldn’t see who had fallen on her.

“I’m sorry,” he said as he fumbled to get off her. “I didn’t mean to fall on you, but the chair has been moved.”

She had her hands on what seemed to be his shoulders but she wasn’t sure. His face was near hers, as she could feel his breath and smell it. Rather nice, she thought, then struggled harder.

“Please stop pushing,” he said in a way that made her think he was in pain. “I don’t mean to complain, but my arm was broken and the sling has caught on the chair. I can’t move until I get it loose.”

With those words she knew he was Kim’s cousin Tristan, the doctor who lived next door. She kept her hands on his shoulders, but she stopped fighting him.

She felt his hands near her as he moved the cushion behind her head. His body was half on, half off hers. She could feel that he was tall, his stomach flat, and under her hands she could feel rather well-developed pecs. Altogether, he felt truly wonderful.

“There!” he said and rolled off of her. He started to stand, then stumbled.

She caught his hand to steady him as she sat up straighter. “Sit down,” she said, and tugged on his hand. She swung her legs around so her feet were on the ground, and she kept hold of his hand.

It was so dark she could see nothing, but she knew by his breathing that he was hurting.

“If you don’t mind,” he said as he turned and sat down beside her.

She was quiet as he took a few breaths. One side of her was close enough to him to feel that he was shaking a bit. The pain from hitting the wooden chaise must have been bad.

“I take it you Ctakpain from 8217;re Dr. Aldredge.”

He took a breath before answering. “You must be Jecca, and we’ve met before. Please call me Tris. We’ve heard about nothing but your visit for weeks. We—” He broke off as he did more deep breathing.

“That’s it,” Jecca said as she stood up. “You’re injured, and I’m going to call someone. Didn’t Kim say your dad was in town?”

Reaching up, he moved about until he found her hand and took it. “Please don’t call anyone, especially not my father. He’ll get upset and insist that I take painkillers and get more rest. If I rest any more I’ll lose my mind.”

The darkness was so complete that she couldn’t so much as see an outline of him, but she knew what he meant. “I guess you were walking home. Did I move the chaise in your way?”

“Yes, you did, but that’s all right.” He was still holding her hand.

“Would you like me to walk you home? I can go in the house and try to find a flashlight.”

“I don’t use one, never have.”

“Even in this darkness?” She knew she should take her hand out of his but she didn’t. There was something rather, well, intimate about being with this stranger in this deep, black darkness. His voice was rich and more seductive than moonlight.

“When I was two I wandered through the woods to here. I was so happy when I found this house, as I’ve always loved Miss Livie. But my parents were frantic and thought I might have gone into the lake. After they found me, they tried everything they could think of to keep me from coming here. But I always found a way around them. Dad finally gave up and used a chainsaw to cut a path for me.”

“And you’ve been using it since you were two?”

“Yes.” He took her hand in both of his. “An artist’s hands.”

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