Sheryl moved with the speed of a geriatric snail. She clapped her hand to her head and moaned. “I have a splitting head.”
Max snorted in disgust and strode from the room. He clattered down the stairs, grabbed a torch from the kitchen, and hurried outside. “Noel. Noel!” God, it was dark now. If something happened to his brother, he’d never forgive himself.
“Noel, where are you?” His younger brother adored playing hide and seek, and Max prayed he wasn’t sitting in a favorite hidey-hole with a big grin on his face.
Along with checking the barn, Max walked the house perimeter and scanned every one of his brother’s hiding spots. Where was he? If he didn’t find Noel soon, he’d have to call the local cops along with search and rescue. His grandparents would learn of this and add this transgression to the long list they’d already gathered: drinking alcohol, womanizing, a single man with no experience of raising a special needs child.
“Noel! Where are you?” Max called as he jogged to the front of the house. He searched the garage, the interiors of his parents’ Range Rover plus his Nissan, and the woodshed. Ah! The toolshed. He hadn’t explored there yet.
“Hello,” a feminine voice called from behind him.
Max backed from the toolshed and whirled to peer down his dark driveway. A woman walked toward him, her pace keeping time with his brother’s awkward gait.
“Noel! Thank goodness. Where did you find him?”
“I found him on the beach. He was crying because he didn’t know how to get home.”
Max closed his eyes for a second, intense relief flooding him. “Thank you so much,” he said with feeling. If this woman hadn’t helped Noel, anything could’ve happened. “How did you learn where Noel lived?”
“I followed his footprints,” she said, strolling closer.
“Max. Max. Max!” Noel said. “I went for a walk.”
Max bit back his instinctive chiding words. He’d go over the rules about wandering off again tomorrow once Noel had rested. “You’re lucky this nice lady found you.” He held out his hand. “Maxwell Lombardy.”
“My name is Sasha Mountholden,” she said, accepting his handshake.
Now that his initial panic had subsided and Noel stood within sight, he noticed more about Sasha. She was tall, although he still had four inches on her. Her hair was brown with coppery highlights, and it was long and swept over her shoulders and halfway down her back in a tumble of curls. Gorgeous bright blue eyes returned his scrutiny with equal interest.
“Would you like to come inside for a hot drink? It’s getting cold out here. Afterward, I can run you back to your car.”
“We don’t have a car. I mean, I,” she said quickly. “I am visiting.”
“Where are you staying tonight?”
Sasha frowned. “I am not certain. Once we found Noel, it was more important to help him get home.”
“Thank you,” Max said. “You could spend the night here. I have a spare room with an en suite.”
A slight frown creased her brow before she nodded.
“I promise, I will not put a finger out of line or try to kiss you or molest you or do anything to alarm you.”
She blinked before a slow smile made its way to her sexy, kissable lips.
Max cursed softly under his breath and kneeled in front of Noel for a distraction. He had no right to study her curvy shape, her long legs, or to pray for her to turn so he could view her rear.Focus on Noel.Much safer. “Are you hungry, buddy?”
Noel rubbed his tummy in answer. This close, Max spotted his brother’s bloodshot eyes and the evidence of tears. “How about soup and toasted cheese sandwiches?”
“Yum,” Noel said.
“I’m glad you’re home.”
“Can Shasha read me a bedtime story?” Noel asked.
“We’ll see,” Max said. Sasha hadn’t agreed to stay the night yet. He understood a single woman might worry, but despite the temptation she presented, he intended to keep his hands off. A thought occurred as he stood and led Noel inside. “Did Sheryl have a long sleep?”
“She cried,” Noel said. “Her cries hurt my ears.” He slapped his hands over his ears in illustration.
