“Nothing this coffee won’t cure.” Dominic took a sip and made an appreciative noise. “Definitely beats the stuff Rooke usually makes back at the shop. Now, this I wouldn’t mind standing around in the cold for.”

“I’m glad you like it,” Adrian said, avoiding his eyes. She wasn’t offended by his mild flirtation, but she didn’t want to encourage him either. “I’m a tea drinker myself.”

“Well, next time, you have to make me tea,” Dominic said.

Rooke stood abruptly. “I need to take a look at the fireplace.”

• 74 •

SecretS in the Stone

“I closed the doors to the parlor because there was so much cold air coming in through the opening in the chimney.” Adrian put her teacup down. “I’ll show you the way.”

“I can find it,” Rooke said. “No point in you getting cold.”

Before Adrian could argue, Rooke slipped out of the kitchen and was gone.

“She didn’t even drink her coffee,” Adrian said, looking after her.

“Does she ever sit still?”

“She’s fine,” Dominic said. “Always happiest when she’s working.” He glanced casually at the yellow legal pad Adrian had left next to her laptop on the table. “Huh. You’re into gravestones too?”

“Yes,” Adrian said. Somewhere over the course of the morning what had started out as passing curiosity had blossomed into an idea for an article. The fact that the research would provide a reason to see more of Rooke Tyler was an added bonus. “I’m interested in seeing how the changes in grave markings parallel the social transitions within a community.”

“Uh-huh,” Dominic said with enthusiasm. “Well, you’ve come to the right place. Stillwater Cemetery is a few hundred years old.

Everyone who’s anyone in the whole county is buried there. At least that’s how my father always told it.”

“Really. And you and Rooke work there.”

“Rooke lives there. She knows every marker in the place, and the story behind it.”

Adrian leaned forward eagerly. “She lives at the cemetery? I know it was common in the past for caretakers to have a house on the grounds, but that’s got to be unusual today.”

He shook his head. “Not around here. There’s been a Tyler living at Stillwater since Ford’s Crossing was founded.”

Adrian quickly made a note to find the County Historical Society office and gather the names of the prominent local families. Ideas rushed through her head, and she flipped a page and scribbled a to-do list. “And Rooke does all the carvings?”

“She does all the stonework, period. Markers, crypts, big fu…

frickin’ statues. If it’s stone, Rooke does it.”

Adrian put the pad aside. “By herself?”

“The carving and fancy work. Yeah. What she does—hand carving—not many people do that anymore. Most of it’s done with

• 75 •

RADcLY fFe

stencils and power tools.” Dominic shrugged. “The families who can afford Stillwater want one-of-a-kind. She’s the only one who can do that.”

“How did she learn?” Adrian put her pen aside, fascinated to contemplate what it must have been like for a young girl learning such an ancient trade. She remembered the strange vision she’d had of Rooke, or who she thought of as Rooke, guarding the gates of an ancient fortress. Rooke building monuments of stone made perfect sense.

“From her grandfather, I guess. That’s how it goes around here, pretty much.”

“If I wanted to look around, that would be all right?”

Dominic’s eyes lit up. “Hey. Any time you want a guided tour, just let me know. It’s a big place—over a hundred acres.”

“Thanks,” Adrian said, instantly regretting mentioning her desire to visit. He was a nice enough guy, but she didn’t want any misunderstandings. And if she wanted a tour guide, it would be Rooke.

“I’d kind of like to just wander. But I think I’ll wait until the weather’s a little better.”

“If you change your mind, let me know.”

“I will. Thanks.” Adrian grabbed the coffeepot and refilled his cup. Then she picked up Rooke’s. “I think I’ll see how she’s doing. You sit here and relax.”

v

Adrian slipped through the partially opened French doors leading into the parlor and paused, taking in the scene. Rooke stretched out on her back on the broad stone hearth, her head and shoulders inside the fireplace. From her vantage point, Adrian scanned the length of her body from the toes of her work boots, up her long muscular legs to her abdomen and the flare of her chest, before her body disappeared from sight. Clad in denim jeans and a work shirt, Rooke looked tantalizingly inviting, an alluring temptation that had Adrian’s skin misting with sweet anticipation. She caught her breath, imagining for just an instant the press of that hard body against hers, a strongly muscled thigh caught between her own, the soft swell of breasts teasing over hers.

“Dom?” Rooke’s voice echoed from inside the huge stone chamber.

• 76 •

SecretS in the Stone

“No,” Adrian replied hoarsely. “It’s me. Adrian.”

Rooke jerked, and then her head and shoulders appeared. She sat up quickly, a flashlight in one hand and a black smudge down one cheek. “The lower third looks solid. Quite a bit of damage above that, but the worst of it is up near the top.”

“I see.” Adrian struggled to gather her wits. She wasn’t prone to random sexual fantasies, at least she never had been before. Rooke seemed to have changed all that. “That’s good, right?”

“We won’t have to dig out the foundation.” Rooke stood and brushed soot from the shoulders of her dark blue workshirt. “Your grandmother hasn’t had a fire in there this winter. Good thing.”

Laughing, forgetting her earlier unease, Adrian held out a coffee cup. “Here. You can probably use this after lying on those cold stones.”

“Thanks.”

“You’ve got a little soot…” Adrian brushed her thumb over the smear on Rooke’s cheek. Rooke went completely still and Adrian’s vision wavered, as if she’d stood up too quickly after lying in the hot sun on a summer’s day. Hands glided over her, outlining the contours of her breasts, the arch of her hip, the sweep of her thigh. Her flesh scorched, as if she stood in the blast from an open furnace, and her body undulated, yielding to the insistent touch. Her blood rushed and the roar of a train filled her head.

“Adrian,” Rooke said urgently, grasping Adrian’s forearms as she swayed. Her eyes were unfocused, her face washed clean of all color.

Afraid she would fall, Rooke circled an arm around her waist. Adrian’s arms came around her shoulders, and Rooke found herself holding her.

Automatically, she tightened her grip and slid one hand into the thick blond hair at the nape of Adrian’s neck. Her skin was on fire. Shock, then panic quickly gave way to a fierce driving need to shield her, protect her. Casting wildly around the room, she spied a blue brocade sofa on the far side of the room and instinctively swept Adrian into her arms. She crossed to it in three long strides.

“I’m sorry,” Adrian murmured, her cheek against Rooke’s shoulder. As the dizziness abated and her head cleared, she became aware of the rapid pounding of Rooke’s heart and the cool, gentle fingers cradling her neck. She trembled for an entirely different reason as she registered Rooke’s solid abdomen and chest supporting her.

• 77 •

RADcLY fFe

Despite her embarrassment and confusion, she reveled in the pleasure of Rooke’s embrace.

“Adrian,” Rooke whispered, kneeling by the sofa and carefully placing Adrian down. She lightly caressed her cheek. “What should I do? Should I call—”

“No,” Adrian said, grasping Rooke’s hand. As soon as Rooke’s strong fingers closed around hers, she felt better. And instantly humiliated. “I’m fine. I’m so sorry. I have no idea what happened.”

“I think you have a fever.” Rooke released Adrian’s hand and pressed her palm to Adrian’s forehead. “Your skin is so hot.”

Adrian laughed shakily. She could hardly say that if Rooke kept touching her she was likely to feel even warmer very quickly. She couldn’t seem to get her wayward body under control. “I just feel warm because you’ve been in this cold room.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Really, I’m all right now.” Adrian sat up and pushed her hair back with both hands. Her face did feel hot and she imagined she was flushed, and she hoped Rooke wouldn’t realize why. Her heart raced and her breasts felt tense and tingly. God, she wanted to be touched and Rooke was leaning so close, her eyes filled with concern and something else. Something a little wild and fierce, as if she were preparing for a battle. That look did nothing to calm Adrian’s rioting libido.

“Water. Should I get some water?” Rooke asked.

“No,” Adrian said gently, brushing her fingers along the edge of Rooke’s tense jaw. “You did exactly right. I’m fine now.”

Rooke’s eyes closed slowly and she leaned ever so slightly into Adrian’s touch, and Adrian fought not to rub her thumb over Rooke’s mouth. Her gaze drifted lower, down Rooke’s throat to where the open collar of her shirt framed the delicate points of her collarbone and the hollow between. She saw herself leaning forward, lips parted to press a kiss to the pale skin between Rooke’s breasts. Rooke tasted sharp and clean, like crystalline water from a natural spring, vital and pure.

Adrian gasped and jerked her hand away. Rooke’s eyes flew open, the dark pupils widening.

“I’m sorry,” Rooke murmured.

“No.” Adrian rose, willing her shaky legs to carry her toward the door. She hadn’t touched her, but God, it had been so real she could still

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taste her. “You needn’t apologize. I seem to be the one creating a scene.

I’ll let you finish your work.”

v

“She all right in there?” Dom asked when Adrian returned to the kitchen.