at her and shrugged. “I don’t like sharing.”
She laughed shortly as she thought about the last time she’d taken a flight out of Salt Lake City airport. Crowded onto a full flight, she’d sat between a talkative woman complaining about her grandchildren and a businessman whose briefcase poked her in the thigh every time he shifted in his seat. Okay, she could see where a private jet would be nice. “Well sure. Okay, your jet. Then what?”
He steered the Range Rover down the mountain road, taking the tight curves like a race-car driver. If Kelly let herself worry about it, she’d be clinging to the edges of her seat. So she didn’t think about it.
“Well, it’s October, so I’d go to Germany for Oktoberfest.”
“Oh.” That was so far out of her normal orbit she hardly knew what to say. Apparently, though, once you got Micah talking about something that interested him, he would keep going.
“It’s a good place to study people.”
“I bet,” she murmured.
He ignored that, and said, “Writers tend to observe. Tourists. Locals. How people are interacting. Gives me ideas for the work.”
“Like who to murder?”
“Among other things. I once killed a hotel manager in one of my books.” He shrugged. “The guy was a jackass so, on paper at least, I got rid of him.”
She stared at him. “Any plans to kill off your current landlady?”
“Not yet.”
“Comforting.”
“Anyway,” he continued, “after a long weekend there, I’d go to England,” he mused, seriously considering her question. “There’s a hotel in Oxford I like.”
“Not London?”
“Fewer people to recognize me in Oxford.”
“That’s a problem for you?” she asked.
“It can be.” He took another curve that had Kelly swerving into him. He didn’t seem to notice. “Thanks to social media, my fans tend to track me down. It gets annoying.”
She could understand that. The photo of Micah on the back of his books was mesmerizing. She’d spent a bit of time herself studying his eyes, the way his hair tumbled over his forehead, the strong set of his jaw.
“Maybe you should take your photo off your books.”
“Believe me, I’ve suggested it,” Micah said. “The publisher won’t do it.”
Kelly really didn’t have anything to add to the conversation. She’d never been followed by strangers desperate to be close to her and the farthest she’d ever traveled was on her last flight—to Florida to visit her grandmother. England? Germany? Not really in her lifestyle. She’d love to go to Europe. Someday. But it wouldn’t be on a private jet.
She glanced out the window at the familiar landscape as it whizzed past and felt herself settle. Micah’s life was so far removed from her own it made Kelly’s head spin just thinking about it.
“One of these days,” she said suddenly, shifting her gaze back to his profile, “I’d like to go to Scotland. See Edinburgh Castle.”
“It’s worth seeing,” he assured her.
Of course he’d been there. Heck, he’d probably been everywhere. No wonder he stuck close to the house. Why would he be interested in looking around Banner, Utah? After the places he’d been, her small hometown probably appeared too boring to bother with. Well, maybe it wasn’t up to the standards of Edinburgh, or Oktoberfest in Germany, but she loved it.
“Good to know,” she said. “But until then, I’ll plant pumpkins for the kids.” She smiled to herself and let go of a twinge of envy still squeezing her insides. “I like everything about gardening. Watching the seeds sprout, then the vines spread and the pumpkins get bigger and brighter orange.” Smiling, she continued. “I like how the kids on the street come by all the time, picking out the pumpkins they want, helping water, pulling weeds. They get really possessive about their pumpkins.”
“Yeah,” he said wryly. “I hear them.”
He never took his eyes off the road, she noted. Was it because he was a careful driver, or was he just trying to avoid looking at her? Probably the latter. In the two months he’d been living in her Victorian, Micah Hunter had made eluding her an art form.
Sure, he was a writer, and he’d told her when he first arrived in town that he needed time alone to work. He wasn’t interested in making friends, having visitors or a guided tour of her tiny town. Friendly? Not so much. Intriguing? Oh, yeah.
Could she help it if tall, dark and crabby appealed to her? Odd though, since her late husband, Sean, had been blond and blue-eyed, with an easy smile. And nothing about Micah was easy.
“You don’t like kids?”
Briefly he slanted a look at her. “Didn’t say that. Said I heard them. They’re loud.”
“Uh-huh,” she said with a half smile. “And didn’t you say last week that it was too quiet in Banner?”
His mouth tightened but, grudgingly, he nodded. “Point to you.”
“Good. I like winning.”
“One point doesn’t mean you’ve won anything.”
“How many points do I need then?”
A reluctant smile curved his mouth, then flashed away again. “At least eleven.”
Wow. That half smile had come and gone so quickly it was like it had never been. Yet, her stomach was swirling and her mouth had gone dry. Kelly took a breath and slowly let it out again. She had to focus on what they were talking about, not what he was doing to her.
“Like ping-pong,” she said, forcing a smile she didn’t feel.
“Okay.” He sounded amused.
“All right, good,” Kelly said, leaning over to pat his arm mostly because she needed to convince herself she could touch him without going up in flames. But her fingers tingled, so she pulled them back fast. “Then it’s one to nothing, my favor.”
He shook his head. “You’re actually going to keep score?”
“You started it. You gave me a point.”
“Right. I’ll make a note.”
“No need, I’ll keep track.” She looked ahead because it was safer than looking at him. Then she smiled to herself. She’d gotten him to talk and had completely held her own in the conversation—until her imagination and hormones had thrown her off.
As long as she could keep those tingles and nerves in check, she could handle Mr. Magnetic.
For the next few days, Kelly was too busy to spend much time thinking about Micah. And that was just as well, she told herself. Mainly because the minute they returned from their pumpkin-shopping expedition, Micah had disappeared and she’d gotten the message.
Clearly he wanted her to know that their brief outing had been an aberration. He’d slipped back into his cave and she hadn’t caught a glimpse of him since. Probably for the best, she assured herself. Easier to keep her mind on her own life, her own responsibilities if the only time she saw Micah was in her dreams.
Of course, that didn’t make for restful sleeping, but she’d been tired before. One thing she hadn’t experienced before were the completely over-the-top, sexy-enough-to-melt-your-brain dreams. She hated waking up hot and needy. Hated having to admit that all she really wanted to do was go back to sleep and dream again.
“And don’t