Her lips twitched as he turned and climbed back into the Jeep. No doubt his male ego was dented, she decided. She cocked her head as the engine groaned. Lips pursed, she leaned back under the hood. “Again!” she called out to him, muttering to herself. “Carburetor.”
“What?”
“Carburetor,” she repeated and opened the little metal door with her thumb. “Turn her over again.”
This time the engine roared to life. With a satisfied nod, she shut the hood and walked around to the driver’s side window. “It’s sticking closed, that’s all. You’re going to want to have it looked at. From the sound of it, you need a tune-up anyway. When’s the last time you had it in?”
“I just bought it a couple of weeks ago. From a former friend.”
“Ah. Always a mistake. Well, it should get you where you’re going now.”
When she started to step back, he reached through the window for her hand. It was narrow, he noted, long, both elegant and competent. “Listen, let me give you a lift. It’s pouring, and it’s the least I can do.”
“It’s not necessary. I can—”
“I could break down again.” He shot her a smile, charming, easy, persuasive. “Who’ll fix my carburetor?”
It was foolish to refuse, she knew. More foolish to feel trapped just because he had her hand. She shrugged. “All right, then.” She gave her hand a little tug, was relieved when he immediately released it. She jogged around the Jeep and climbed dripping into the passenger seat.
“Well, the interior’s in good shape.”
“My former friend knows me too well.” Nathan turned on the wipers and looked at Jo. “Where to?”
“Up this road, then bear right at the first fork. Sanctuary isn’t far—but then nothing is on Desire.”
“That’s handy. I’m heading to Sanctuary myself.”
“Oh?” The air in the cab was thick and heavy. The driving rain seemed to cut them off from everything, misting out the trees, muffling all the sound. Reason enough to be uncomfortable, she told herself, but she was sufficiently annoyed with her reaction to angle her head and meet his eyes directly. “Are you staying at the big house?”
“No, just picking up keys for the cottage I’m renting.”
“For six months, you said?” It relieved her when he began to drive, turned those intense gray eyes away from her face and focused on the road. “That’s a long vacation.”
“I brought work with me. I wanted a change of scene for a while.”
“Desire’s a long way from home,” she said, then smiled a little when he glanced at her. “Anyone from Georgia can spot a Yankee. Even if you keep your mouth shut, you move differently.” She pushed her wet hair back. If she’d walked, Jo thought, she’d have been spared making conversation. But talk was better than the heavy, raindrenched silence. “You’ve got Little Desire Cottage, by the river.”
“How do you know?”
“Oh, everybody knows everything around here. But my family rents the cottages, runs them and the inn, the restaurant. As it happens I was assigned Little Desire, stocked the linens and so forth just yesterday for the Yankee who’s coming to stay for six months.”
“So you’re my mechanic, landlord, and housekeeper. I’m a lucky man. Who exactly do I call if my sink backs up?”
“You open the closet and take out the plunger. If you need instructions for use, I’ll write them down for you. Here’s the fork.”
Nathan bore right and climbed. “Let’s try that again. If I wanted to grill a couple of steaks, chill a bottle of wine, and invite you to dinner, who would I call?”
Jo turned her head and gave him a cool look. “You’d have better luck with my sister. Her name is Alexa.”
“Does she fix carburetors?”
With a half laugh, Jo shook her head. “No, but she’s very decorative and enjoys invitations from men.”
“And you don’t?”
“Let’s just say I’m more selective than Lexy.”
“Ouch.” Whistling, Nathan rubbed a hand over his heart. “Direct hit.”
