hotel. She would have continued the project with or without outside backing, even if it meant she had to use every cent of her personal fortune.”
“Why did it mean so much to her?” Elizabeth asked curiously. “She’s a young woman, isn’t she? She wasn’t even around when the original Fernhaven was built.”
“No, but her grandmother, Ingrid, was. Ingrid’s engagement to her childhood sweetheart was to be announced on the night of the grand-opening ball. He’d just arrived from Stockholm, where he’d been attending university. They hadn’t seen each other in nearly a year. And then the fire broke out. Somehow Ingrid managed to escape, but her fiancé was killed.”
“How sad.” Elizabeth felt a strange, tragic kinship with the woman, even though she’d never even met her.
“Ingrid later married and had children, but according to Annika, her grandmother never got over her first love. Annika’s parents were killed when she was just a child, and her grandmother took her in and raised her. Annika is very devoted to her grandmother and determined to carry out her last wish.”
“Which is?”
“That she be allowed to live out the rest of her days at Fernhaven.”
“Wow,” Elizabeth said. “Building a hotel is quite a tribute, especially considering the financial risks involved.”
“Money really wasn’t a concern. Annika is a very wealthy woman. Not only is she heiress to the Wallenburg fortune, but she’ll also inherit a great deal of money from her grandmother’s family. As I said, she would have used her own fortune to rebuild Fernhaven if necessary. However, the business prospectus she put together was a sound one. The location in the Cascades is excellent for skiing in the winter and hiking in the summer, and with the popularity of luxury spas and retreats, Fernhaven’s natural hot springs and mineral baths are an extremely marketable attraction. And the scenery is breathtaking. I don’t believe there’s anything quite like it anywhere in the world.”
“You’re proud of it,” Elizabeth said softly.
He gave her a surprised look. “I guess I am. But now it’s on to the next project.”
“And Boyd Carter.”
His smiled disappeared. “Yes. Boyd Carter could still be a problem, but that’s not for you to worry about. Just relax and enjoy the weekend.”
Elizabeth started to remind him that she had accompanied him on this trip as a favor, not for pleasure. But what was the point in arguing over such a minor point? Besides, he was right. The scenery was gorgeous, and surprisingly she really was enjoying herself.
As they turned off the main road onto the curving drive, Elizabeth found herself holding her breath in anticipation. And then, as they rounded a turn, Fernhaven materialized like magic before them. Rising out of the mist, the hotel appeared to float like the spirits who supposedly dwelled within the resurrected walls.
The sloping lawn—what she could see of it through the haze—was emerald-green and adorned with topiaries, statues and fountains surrounded by lush dripping ferns. The building itself was multistoried and of a light gray color that blended with the mist. The spired roof and arched windows created a dreamy, fairy-tale feel, but the ornate carvings beneath the ledge were almost gothic. It was a beautiful hotel, mystical and serene, but the shadowy forest lurking in the background gave it an air of foreboding.
Paul slowed the car and Elizabeth stared through the windshield at the hotel.
“Quite a place, isn’t it?” he said proudly.
“It’s beautiful,” Elizabeth breathed. “Magnificent. But…”
“But what?” Paul asked with an edge in his voice.
Elizabeth caressed her arms with her hands. “I don’t know. I feel a strange sense of déjà vu. Like I’ve been here before, but I know I haven’t. I guess it must be the pictures I’ve been studying.”
“Actually,” Paul said, “you have been here before. You don’t remember?”
She turned sharply. “When?” Ever since the accident she’d experienced gaps in her memory. Doctors had told her the condition wasn’t unusual after a severe head trauma, but the lapses always took her by surprise.
“We were here a few weeks before the accident,” Paul said quietly. “Damon was on a camping trip with Nicholas Braiden and his dad. You and I drove up for the ground-breaking ceremony. You and Frankie had already been given the contract to design the uniforms and you wanted to get a feel for the place.”
“It’s so strange that I can’t remember—” And then it came back to her. They’d driven up on a Friday night and stayed in a nearby bed-and-breakfast. Elizabeth had been both nervous and excited at the prospect of spending a weekend alone with her husband. They’d had dinner at a quiet out-of-the-way restaurant and then gone straight back to the room. After they’d made love, they’d even talked about having another baby.
That night seemed like a dream to Elizabeth. A lovely, distant dream. What seemed more real to her was the ground-breaking ceremony the next day. The ruins had been cleared away by then and bulldozers had leveled the property. She remembered now seeing a man at the service, a tall, aristocratic stranger dressed all in black who’d stood apart from the crowd. He didn’t seem to be connected to the ceremony, but Elizabeth had the strongest feeling that he belonged there. That he had a purpose for being there. And when his gaze met hers, an odd mixture of fear and excitement had gripped her.
She’d forgotten all about that day. And about the man.
“Elizabeth?”
“I’m fine,” she said a bit tersely before Paul could ask if she was all right.
His mouth thinned and he turned his attention back to the road. Pulling to the front of the hotel, he parked the car as two valets came hurrying to open their doors and a bellman took charge of the luggage.
As they walked up the steps, Paul put his hand on Elizabeth’s elbow. The gesture was as natural as breathing to him. The slight contact didn’t mean anything, but for some reason Elizabeth had the urge to pull away from him…as if someone was willing her to pull away.
At the top of the steps she paused to glance over her shoulder. In spite of the mist, a handful of people strolled about the grounds, but no one seemed to notice her. Turning, she followed Paul into the lobby, an opulent, lofty space with marble floors, trickling fountains and sparkling chandeliers.
A clerk wearing a black blazer emblazoned with a tiny green fern leaf smiled as they approached the front desk. “Welcome to Fernhaven. May I have your names, please?”
“Mr. and Mrs. Paul Blackstone.”
The clerk typed their names into the computer. After a few moments he asked them to sign the registration form, then produced two keys. “You’ll be in guest cottage five,” he said. “It’s the farthest one from the hotel. Very cozy and private. It even has two fireplaces.”
“Guest cottage?” Elizabeth said in surprise. “We aren’t staying in the main hotel?”
The clerk seemed to be affronted by her question. “The cottages are extremely desirable, I assure you. We were swamped with requests—”
“Do you have something in the main hotel?” Paul cut in, but Elizabeth quickly put her hand on his arm.
“No, it’s okay. I was just surprised, that’s all. I didn’t realize the hotel had guest cottages,” she said to the clerk. “I’m sure they’re lovely.”
“Number five is an exact replica of the original,” he said proudly. “Right down to the linens.”
“In that case, I can’t wait to see it.” Elizabeth tried to muster up the correct amount of enthusiasm to soothe the clerk’s ruffled feathers. He appeared somewhat appeased as he finished checking them in.
Another