“Get some sleep, Clare. I’ll treat you to breakfast in the morning.”
“One more question.”
He waited.
She cleared her throat and lowered her voice. “So, is it true that hunters can see like cats and owls in the dark or is that just part of the legend?”
His smile was slow and wicked. “Stick around, lady. Maybe one of these days I’ll tell you the truth.”
He went inside his room and closed the door.
She shut her own door, snapped the lock into place and sagged back against the wooden panels. She spent a few minutes trying to figure out why Jake was so determined to keep an eye on her tonight. Surely he wasn’t that worried about her choice of lodging. The Desert Dawn wasn’t exactly a five-star resort but it was not a seedy flophouse, either, in spite of what appeared to be the general consensus of opinion.
He had picked up on her uneasiness, she thought. The hunter in him had no doubt detected her underlying fear. He hadn’t pushed her for an explanation she was not ready to give. Instead he had decided to remain close in case she needed protection.
No man had ever done anything that romantic for her in her entire life. No man had ever tried to make her feel safe.
She went back to bed and lay there quietly for a time, listening to the faint sounds of movement that emanated through the thin wall that separated her room from Jake’s.
She had a lot of questions about Jake Salter and very few answers. But one thing was certain. She would sleep a lot more soundly tonight than she had last night knowing he was right next door.
Chapter Fourteen
“You’re joking.” Elizabeth removed the chilled herbal eye mask and turned her head to look at Clare. “Jake Salter cooked dinner for you?”
“Uh-huh.” Clare had already removed her eye mask. The weight of the thing together with the enforced darkness had made her feel claustrophobic. “What’s more, I gotta tell you, the man can cook. Says it relaxes him.”
“Who knew?” Elizabeth shook her head in amazement and replaced the eye mask. “Jake’s an original, that’s for sure.”
“He certainly is different from any man I’ve ever met,” Clare conceded. “And not just because he can cook. I dated a chef once. It wasn’t the same thing at all.”
She and Elizabeth were ensconced side by side on twin recliners in the spa’s serene Contemplation Room. The space served as a waiting area for clients between treatments. The other four recliners were vacant at the moment, the occupants having been led away by quiet, low-voiced attendants.
The ceiling was a rotunda lit with recessed lights and painted with a nighttime sky. Tiny “stars” twinkled overhead. New Agey music emanated from hidden speakers. The scent of herbal tea wafted through the air.
They had been given plush robes and flip-flops to wear while they went through the various spa therapy sessions. Thus far they had each experienced the steam room and the whole body massage. Next on the agenda for Clare was a trip to the Tropical Experience Chamber. She was looking forward to that, she thought. When you were in the desert anything that involved water sounded good.
“So what happened after dinner?” Elizabeth asked.
“He took me back to my motel.”
“Does he think it’s a dump, like I do?”
“I don’t recall that he used the word ‘dump,’ but he did not approve,” Clare said. “There was also, I regret to say, a slight misunderstanding with some of the other guests.”
Elizabeth yanked the mask off again. “What sort of misunderstanding?”
“When Jake walked me to my room my neighbors next door concluded that I was a call girl entertaining a client.”
Elizabeth’s eyes widened. Then she started to giggle. “I don’t believe it. You? A call girl? You haven’t had a real date in six months.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Until last night, that is,” Elizabeth finished on a thoughtful note. “So? What’s the bottom line here? Did Jake make a pass?”
“As a matter of fact—”
“Oh, my God. He did make a pass. Wow. That’s even more amazing than your neighbors thinking you’re a call girl.”
“Why?”
“I told you, he seems so ordinary. Boring, even. A nice guy, I’m sure, but sort of monkish or something.”
“I don’t think he’d make a good monk,” Clare said judiciously.
Elizabeth chuckled. “Obviously you have swept Mr. Salter off his feet.”
“Something tells me Jake doesn’t get swept anywhere he doesn’t want to go.”
“Okay, I can’t stand it any longer,” Elizabeth said. “I have to know. Did you and Jake spend the night together?”
“No. I slept alone.”
“Your idea or his?”
“The manager’s, actually. As I told you, there were complaints from the neighbors. Jake was asked to leave my room.”
Elizabeth slapped a palm over her mouth to stifle her laughter. “I don’t believe it. You? And Jake? Ohmygod.”
“Believe it.”
“Amazing.” Elizabeth’s smile faded. “By the way, on a less amusing subject, I talked to Mom last night. Seems Dad told her about his plans to establish a foundation and put you in charge of it right after he talked to you.”
“How did she take the news?”
“Not well, I’m afraid.”
“She’s probably afraid a large endowment will impact the size of the inheritance you and Matt receive. She’s right.”
“I don’t think that’s the only thing that’s bothering her,” Elizabeth replied.
Clare sighed. “She’s also worried that I’ll take the job Archer is offering me and that it will have the effect of bringing me more frequently into the family circle. She’s probably suffering horrifying visions of me showing up at Thanksgiving and Christmas.”
“Unfortunately she can’t separate your existence from what happened in the past.”
“What woman could?” Clare asked simply.
“It’s not right. If she wants to hold on to her resentment against Dad for what happened over three decades ago, that’s her business. But she shouldn’t blame you. It wasn’t your fault Dad and your mother had an affair.”
“It didn’t even qualify as an affair,” Clare said. “It was, as I understand it, a one-night stand after which both parties involved realized that it was a terrible mistake.”