Page 47 of Craig

Right here in the room where his parents had always stayed, the air was filled with her, just her. She was enough to crowd out the memories of the people he loved the most.

Regina stepped back and, after watching him for a few minutes, walked hurriedly into the bathroom with its charming old-fashioned tub, wide lips, and a three-legged stool just at the side of it. She closed the door and had the insane urge to slide the lock in place.

Leaning against the door, she rapped her hand on her chest where her heart was beating madly. She could still smell his cologne, something elusive and earthy.

She could still feel his body heat.

She shouldn’t have come here. What the hell was she doing out in this isolated place with him?

Pressing a hand to her quivering stomach, she went to the sink and waited like a coward until she no longer heard movement in the room.

She couldn’t sleep. The bed was soft and the sheets scented.

He had told her that he rehired the couple who had always taken care of the place to do the cleaning. The white cotton sheets smelled of baby powder and lilac.

An odd combination, but she couldn’t shut down. He was right across the hall.

Was he tossing and turning as well?

When he had turned to face her, she had wondered if he was going to kiss her. And she had wanted him to.

Closing her eyes, she tried to settle. When it didn’t happen, she turned towards the window and just gazed at the full moon.

Across the hall, Craig was having the same problem. His body was heated, his blood racing.

Her scent was still in his nostrils. Propping up on the pillows, he eyed the shadowy room balefully.

What was she doing? he wondered. He knew she had avoided him by staying inside the bathroom.

Some demon inside him had made him almost stay to see what she would have done. But he didn’t want to push his luck.

Time enough for that. Starting tomorrow, he wasn’t going to tolerate the separation.

Oh hell no!

Chapter 8

Dawn was pearling the sky when he opened his eyes. Feeling out of sorts because of the long restless night, he eased up on the pillows and rubbed his hands over his face.

Coffee, he thought. The caffeine would kickstart his adrenaline and get him moving.

He had a full day planned for them, and he was damned if he was going to take no for an answer. The rain had stopped sometime during the night.

Swinging his legs off the bed, he padded over to the window. The fire had simmered down to mere ashes, but the place still retained the warmth.

Dragging on a robe to cover his nakedness, he stood there staring at the boats bobbing and weaving on the water.

The memories came, clear and concise ones where he was sitting on the deck with a fishing rod in his hand and a wide grin as he mirrored his father's movements.

The air was clear and crisp, the wind wafting over the water and cooling the atmosphere.

It had become a competition to them, seeing who could catch the biggest fish or fill up the basket the fastest.

His father had told him proudly that the student had become the teacher.

"You're making me look bad here, son," he had complained affectionately, tapping the baseball cap till it covered his forehead.

"You're getting old," he had responded with a cheeky grin.