Rogue's Revenge - By Gail MacMillan Page 0,40
beautiful Jessica Henderson, and even her worries about the village’s economic future. “For being a homemade variety, it’s really very good. And unique.”
“Jack used to start with four quarts of crushed elderberries, then add four pounds of sugar and a couple of oranges and lemons. Next he’d dissolve some yeast in water and pour it over a slice of toast. He’d let this float on top of the mixture for about four days and stir it every twenty-four hours. Then he’d strain and bottle it. Four weeks later it was ready. A lot of our guests request it.”
“Interesting,” she said and took another sip. “Are elderberries as good as their wine?”
“They have a pleasant enough taste,” he said. “But they’ll never surpass blueberries or wild strawberries. The wine is the best part of them. I’ll show you where they grow…if you’ll run the river with me.”
He looked over at her, golden-brown gaze issuing a subtle challenge.
“Run the North Passage in May?” She put her glass down with a bump. “No way. Aside from the fact that it’s too dangerous, I don’t have the time. I have to get back to Toronto tomorrow.”
“Remember the other time I dared you to do it?”
“And Gramps stopped us before you could taunt me into making one very big mistake.”
“I could have gotten us through.” He leaned back in his chair.
“Right. A sixteen-year-old city kid with more machismo than brains,” she scoffed.
“I was strong for my age, and Jack had taught me well.”
“Maybe, but I’m glad he caught us before we could shove off. I don’t think I’d ever seen Gramps so angry.”
“Yeah.” Heath shifted his shoulders and grinned. “He gave me one hell of a carding out after you left. Told me any part of me that touched you would be in danger of amputation.”
“Gramps said that?” Allison felt heat flooding up her face. She’d never suspected her gentle Gramps could talk that way.
“Sure did.” A grin curled one corner of his mouth. “And I had no reason to doubt it. Your grandfather might have been a gentle giant around you, but among men he was one tough customer.”
“Anyhow, Gramps was right, then, and I know it now, so no way.” Why isn’t there some way the human body can control a humiliating blush?
“O…kay.” He drawled out the word, the grin turning to a smirk.
“Hey, look, I’m not afraid. Never mind that it would be madness, I have a previous obligation, that’s all.”
“Fine.” But again his voice held the same annoying inflection.
With an exasperated sigh, she picked up her glass and drained it. Grabbing the decanter she treated herself to a refill.
By the time they’d finished eating, he’d managed to soothe her annoyance, and they were talking about the expected guests and necessary preparations.
“Never mind coffee,” he said, standing. “I’ll take the wine into the living room and light a fire.”
“Fine.” She arose. “I’ll put these plates in the kitchen before I join you.”
Humming, Allison carried the dishes and cutlery out of the dining room. She found her hips swaying to her tune as she put them into the dishwasher. What a lovely evening this was turning out to be! When she returned to the dining room for the empty casserole, biscuit basket, and butter plate, an urge to dance tickled her feet, but she decided that waltzing into the living room might not be the thing to do.
She found him leaning against the mantel, a fire crackling on the hearth, their filled wine glasses on the coffee table in front of it. Soft music wafted from a battery-powered CD player on a table near the garden doors.
Darkness had fallen. A huge globe of a moon rose above the river and trees. Its rays fell over the lawn and through the windows to be swallowed up in the dancing play of light and shadow cast from the hearth.
Tell me this isn’t romantic. And he looks so… Feeling lightheaded, Allison sat down abruptly on the couch. She looked up at Heath and remembered how very much she had loved him…once…before…
Struggling to set the thought aside, she picked up her wine and took a long drink. It was as delicious as the first glass.
“I called Myra while I was in town today,” he said. “I wanted to let her know you were safe.”
“That was thoughtful.” He’s got to be the earthiest, most deliciously sexy creature alive.
An image crossed her mind, an image of a too-thin teenager in a shabby suit, a bouquet of wilted flowers clutched