Heart of Gold - By Tami Hoag Page 0,35

obvious she was very aware of him as a man. She was skittish around him, a kind of nervousness that sprang from sexual tension.

Lying in bed every night, knowing she was just across the hall, was an experience Shane considered on a level with Chinese water torture. He couldn’t remember ever wanting a woman the way he wanted her. He was a relatively young, healthy male with strong sexual appetites, but this transcended mere physical need. Want of her seemed to have invaded every level of his being. The idea made him uncomfortable, but he couldn’t escape it. If he didn’t get her into bed soon and slake this need, it was going to drive him right over the edge.

All he had to do was push her a little. Faith was too inexperienced to resist a skilled seduction. But he couldn’t do that and live with himself afterward. As unappealing as the idea was, he was just going to have to bide his time.

“Good Lord!” Faith choked as she opened the door. Blinking rapidly as she entered the office, she waved an arm in front of her as if she were cutting her way through a jungle with a machete. “What are you trying to do, give yourself lung cancer in one sitting?”

Shane frowned but couldn’t quite stop himself from snatching the unlit cigarette from his lip. Faith’s voice had that innate motherly quality that could make even a grown man feel contrite. “We’ll have the place fumigated for you after we leave.”

Faith almost flinched at the words. After he left. The thought caused an alarming amount of pain. Forcing herself past the sensation, she said, “Alaina and Jayne are both gone for the day. I gave them time off for good behavior above and beyond the call of duty. I’m going to take Lindy down to the beach for the afternoon. I thought you’d want to know.”

“Fine.” Shane pushed himself to his feet with the lazy, deceptive grace of a big cat. “I’ll go with you.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to say no, but Faith bit the automatic response back. In the first place it wouldn’t do any good. Mules had nothing on Shane Callan when it came to being stubborn. In the second place, it wasn’t what she really wanted. The thought of spending the day on the beach with him held the appeal of forbidden fruit. It may not have been wise, but she allowed herself to yield to the temptation.

“All right. We’ll be ready as soon as I pack the picnic basket.”

Beauty was something Shane had had little room for in his life in recent years. Now it surrounded him. He felt it wash over him like the golden sunlight pouring down out of the clear blue sky. He could feel it warming him and healing him—not just the wound in his shoulder, but the scars that lacerated his soul as well. He could feel it seeping inside him and filling up all the dark corners.

Beauty was the fresh, cool salt air, the temporary absence of tension, Lindy’s laughter as bubbling little waves chased her up the beach.

Natural beauty was obvious all around. They had set up their little picnic site on a secluded strip of soft, silvery sand. Shane lay stretched out on a blue plaid blanket, propped up on his right elbow, his gaze automatically sweeping the area. A hundred feet or so above them, at the top of a rugged cliff, stood the inn, its assortment of roof peaks zigzagging across the azure sky. Before them stretched the Pacific, shining like a jewel in the setting of a perfect day. Fishing boats dotted the far horizon, and gulls swooped and called overhead.

Also coming under the heading of natural beauty was Faith. She walked along the water’s edge, helping her daughter hunt for seashells. Somewhere during the last week Shane had lost his mental image of her as William Gerrard’s wife, the polished society lady. That wasn’t Faith. Faith was scrubbed-fresh skin and unruly curls, faded jeans and canvas sneakers. She was a sweet smile and an intricately wrought golden heart. She was beauty—outwardly and inwardly.

Her kind of beauty was something a man could grow used to in a hurry and live with a long time.

“What are you thinking?” Faith asked with a guileless smile as she plopped down on the blanket to sit cross-legged beside him.

Through the dark lenses of his sunglasses Shane studied her for a moment before answering.