Unforgettable

What with all the corporately owned chains popping up on his side of the mountain, Lex’s mom-and-pop business had taken a beating. He didn’t know how much longer he could hold on, but the idea of selling out—or giving up—simply wasn’t an option. He’d already refused two very generous offers, both of which had come from an anonymous party. Regardless, Lex hadn’t even been tempted. His grandfather had built this lodge. Had logged the lumber himself.

In addition, his dad had practically killed himself—he’d died of a heart attack year before last, while patching a spot on the roof—trying to maintain it. Too much Ellenburg sweat, blood and tears had gone into this place to let it go belly-up now. So long as there was breath left in his body Lex wouldn’t sell. He had to make things work. Still…

Of all the guests Beano might have bowled over, it had to be her.

Oh, hell.

“Er, it’s nice to finally meet you,” Lex eventually managed to say. What a damn nightmare. He sucked in a slow breath and waited expectantly for an introduction to confirm his grim suspicions.

Smiling, she gestured to Faith. “This is Faith Bonner. Faith is going to take a couple of days to relax while you and I work out the final details of the To Catch a Thief event.”

Lex nodded, glanced at the woman in question and offered a tongue-in-cheek smile. “Well, despite recent evidence to the contrary, Oak Crest is a great place to relax. There’s something for everyone here.”

Faith wore a bemused expression, continued to stare at him until the silence stretched beyond the comfortable and Lex began to wonder if maybe he had something stuck in his teeth. Those melted-caramel orbs lingered until he had to forcibly quell the urge to squirm, which he was strongly tempted to do anyway because every hair on his body stood on end when she looked at him. It was truly bizarre, this reaction he had to her. It was almost as if he knew her. As if some part of him recognized her. But that wasn’t possible.

“Er…” Trudy’s slightly distressed gaze bounced between them, then, thankfully, she moved to fill the odd silence. “I’m sure she’ll love it here.” She bustled Faith toward the reception desk. “What say we get checked in, shall we?”

Seemingly blinking out of a trance, Faith cast him a sheepish glance and her pale complexion brightened with pink color. “R-right.”

Praying that no other disasters would befall them before he got them checked in and safely escorted to their rooms, Lex made quick work of the process. In short order, though Faith had continued to stare at him through the corner of her eye and not-so-covertly study him during the entire curiously stressful process, Lex finally booked the two women into a couple of his nicest rooms.

Then he went to the kitchen with the intention of downing a beer—he’d undoubtedly earned it after that bizarre episode—but swiftly substituted a soda for the alcohol after a stern look from his uncle.

George’s lined face folded into a frown. “What’s the problem?”

The problem? Lex thought with a silent laugh. Would that there were only one. Regrettably, he’d just added one more to a list of many, and this one was startlingly disturbing—he’d fallen instantly in lust with Faith Bonner. There could be no other explanation for his persistent hard-on, or his acute fascination with her mouth, or the overwhelming case of gooseflesh still pebbling his skin.

Nevertheless, he couldn’t imagine sharing that little tidbit with his uncle, so instead he related the Beano incident. “I’ve put him out back,” Lex told him, finishing the tale. “But I know he’s going to hate it.”

George rubbed his bristled chin. “Yeah, well, not as bad as you’ll hate it if that fancy author and her weird fans take their business elsewhere.” He nodded curtly. “Beano’ll be all right. It’s just for a few days.”

Lex inclined his head. Leave it to George to sum it up so succinctly. His uncle had strong opinions and didn’t mind sharing them whether asked or not. Lex grinned. It was part of George’s charm. He was a little rough around the edges, but Oak Crest wouldn’t be the same without him. Couldn’t function without him, truth be told.

The minute his mother had retired to Florida—it had been too painful for her to remain at the lodge after his father died—George had set up shop in the kitchen and, in Lex’s opinion, there wasn’t a finer cook on this side of the mountain. He didn’t know what he’d do without him and, thankfully, wouldn’t ever have to find out. George was as much a part of the lodge now as the timbers that held it together.

Which was all the more reason why Lex had to keep it afloat. Too many people depended on him, George included. Lex shot a dark look at his crotch—at the hard-on that wouldn’t end. Rather than worrying about gorgeous Faith Bonner with her porn-star lips, he should probably try to concentrate on keeping a roof over their heads, he thought, disgusted.

SWEET HEAVEN, Faith thought, instantly calling Lex Ellenburg’s image to the forefront of her mind, he looked just like Nash.

Just. Like. Nash.

Her heart tripped an unsteady beat in her chest, and forcing air into her shallow lungs was proving to be damn near impossible. Her stomach somersaulted, did a few other gymnastic moves guaranteed to make her insides alternately soar and plummet. Her hands shook and her mouth grew parched.

He had the same coal-black hair and ice-blue eyes, the dimple in one lean cheek and that sexy cleft in his chin. Even the thin jagged scar that slashed across his temple. He was impossibly tall and broad shouldered, built like a Greek god, which seemed appropriate because she was more than willing to physically worship him…and certainly wouldn’t mind offering herself up as a sacrifice, either.

The man had every single physical trait she’d given Nash Austin more than four years ago. It absolutely astounded her. Blew her mind.

When she’d first opened her eyes and he’d been leaning over her…Faith gave a delicate shiver. Her foolish heart had leaped with joy and every single cell in her body had sung in recognition of him. Need had broadsided her, overwhelming and insistent, achy and hot.

And then reality had intruded in the form of her nearly weeping, overly dramatic assistant, and Faith’s memory had returned full force. The dream had receded, making her feel like a complete and total moron.

Honestly, it hadn’t been bad enough that she’d had to faint, make a fool of herself. No, she’d had to do it up nicely, blink drunkenly at him and whisper “Nash” like a lovesick fool. Where was a good crater when you needed one? Faith wondered, her face flushing with renewed embarrassment.

She’d taken one look at that big black dog—totally harmless, according to both Lex and Trudy—and she’d screamed and fainted like a ravished virgin in a bad B movie. One bad experience with a dog and she’d been scarred for life. Faith hated the weakness, hated the character flaw. Dogs were supposed to be man’s best friend. Just because she’d had an unfortunate run-in with a bipolar Chihuahua twenty years ago shouldn’t make her so damn phobic about them now.

“So what do you think of the place?” Trudy asked. “Nice, huh?”

Faith nodded, made a concerted effort to focus on her friend. Trudy had gone to a lot of trouble to make this a memorable weekend for her and her fans. The least she could do was show a little enthusiasm. “It’s lovely.”

Trudy had been admiring the view from the window, but turned to face her. A concerned line creased her brow and a cloud of worry darkened her hazel eyes. “Are you sure you’re okay? You took quite a fall.”

“Positive.” Faith shot her a sheepish look. “I can’t believe I fainted.” She rolled her eyes, rubbed an imaginary wrinkle from between her own brows. “God, how embarrassing.” She exhaled mightily, dropped onto the foot of the bed and fell back.

Trudy’s eyes twinkled. She crossed her arms over her chest and rocked back lightly on her heels. “It was positively dramatic.”

Faith humphed under her breath. “Great.”

“Particularly the way Mr. Ellenburg raced around the building, then scooped you up in his powerful arms and brought you inside. He’d been quite worried, you know.”

Faith snorted indelicately. “I imagine the word lawsuit was flashing through his head.”

Trudy toed her shoes off and sank into one of the big cushy chairs positioned in front of the window. She hummed thoughtfully under her breath. “That was not the impression I got.”

Her silly heart did a cartwheel. “Oh?”

“There was definitely something else at work there,” Trudy said consideringly. “His eyes seemed magnetized to your body…as were his hands. He did a thorough search.”

Heat flared in her belly and her head whipped around to where Trudy sat. “What?”

“Not to worry,” Trudy chuckled. “He didn’t molest you…but I wouldn’t mind him checking me over for broken bones.” She gave a misty sigh. “It was very romantic.”

So he’d felt her up and she didn’t even have the pleasure of remembering it? Faith thought, unreasonably disappointed. Well, wasn’t that just par for the course? A great-looking guy had his hands all over her, swept her into his arms and carried her to safety—a truly heroic moment, probably the only one she’d ever have in her life—and she had absolutely no recall of it whatsoever.

Damn.

Trudy slid her a sly glance. “He wasn’t the only one who seemed intrigued. You, for instance, couldn’t keep your eyes off him.”

Faith knew she should offer some token protest, but couldn’t muster the effort. What was the point? Her gaze had been glued to him like flypaper, as the rest of her would have been if she’d let herself. She’d been utterly fascinated by him. Hadn’t been able to help herself. She shot her friend a slightly embarrassed look. “I know,” she admitted. “But doesn’t he remind you of someone?”

Surely she wasn’t the only one who saw it, Faith thought. The resemblance was so strong that anyone who was familiar with her work should be able to spot it. Trudy most definitely should.

Her friend seemed to consider the question for a moment, then to Faith’s astonishment, she shook her head. “No, I can’t say that he does.”

“Think, Trudy,” Faith pressed, rolling over onto her side. “Black hair, blue eyes, scar at the temple. Sound familiar?”

Trudy gave her a blank look. “Should it?”

Annoyed, she sat up. Good grief. Trudy critiqued for her, proofread. How could she not know? “Yes,” Faith said, thoroughly exasperated.