Chapter One
“Mainly honeymooners complain?” Dera Morgan asked as she followed Alec Thorn into the allegedly haunted bedroom. Moonlight filled the elegant chamber through windows that overlooked the Welsh countryside, giving the air a cool, silvered quality.
“Yes.” Alec was skeptical that a spirit inhabited the old manor house that he’d converted to an upscale inn. “Because of the ghost , they never get to…um…finish what they’re doing. If you know what I mean.”
Dera certainly did know. If nothing else, the twinkle in Alec’s green eyes gave it away. That twinkle also stirred her desires to finish what had started between them when she’d worked at his London real estate firm. Back then he had resisted her attempts at seduction, claiming it was unethical for a man to date a woman in his employ. But, three years later, she no longer worked for him, and the moment she’d seen him this evening, she’d known that her feelings for him hadn’t changed. But she wasn’t ready to act until she felt him out. No sense making a fool of herself again.
“It’s a lovely room,” she said, strolling to the center of it. Exposed beams gave the high ceilings an illusion of coziness while crimson hangings on the canopied bed lent richness to the décor. Old tapestries hung from the stone walls between wide mullioned windows that sported plush window seats. “Quite where I should like to enjoy my honeymoon.”
Alec tucked his hands into the pockets of his jeans, drawing Dera’s gaze downward. She blushed when she realized she was staring, looking for the most obvious sign that his feelings for her—at least the physical ones—had remained unchanged over the years.
She couldn’t tell. Still, she was hopeful.Alec might have resisted her in the past, but he’d never denied that he’d wanted her. In fact, after she’d kissed him passionately their last night together, he’d confessed his powerful attraction to her. But he’d been adamant that nothing could come of it.
“Anytime you’d like to spend a night here, you’ve but to say so,” he said, his voice heavy with what she hoped was meaning.
Reaching the bed, she ran one hand over the pale gray bedspread. The velvet tickled her palm almost as strongly as his tone tickled that spot behind and below her belly. “I think tonight might be a good night. For ghost hunting, of course.”
“Of course.”
As his gaze roamed down her body, pausing on her breasts, she nipped at her lower lip. Had she dressed too provocatively? The moment she’d realized who was calling her office the previous morning, she’d decided that her regular ghost hunting outfit of khaki trousers and black sweater would never do. But had she gone overboard with her skin-tight jeans and red silk blouse? Was she being too obvious?
His appreciative smile convinced her she’d chosen well. Oh yes. There was hope.
Averting her own smiling gaze, she reached inside the leather bag that hung from her left shoulder and drew out her K2 meter. Its LED lights flashed briefly when she switched it on and then they turned dark. She began to move around the room, watching the lights on the device for any sign of electromagnetic energy that might indicate the presence of a spirit.
“What’s that?” Alec asked.
His boot heels made a heavy, determined sound against the oak floor as he followed her and she couldn’t help looking back at him. He wore a buttery yellow sweater over his black jeans, and his v-shaped neckline revealed just a bit of the hair on his chest. She’d seen his bare chest their last night together in London—hell, she’d practically ripped his shirt from his body—and the memory of their kiss caused another ticklish tug of muscle deep inside her lower body.
“It’s an electromagnet field detector,” she answered, stopping at the foot of the bed. “It picks up on the energy of spirits.”
“Very scientific.” Reaching her, he peered over her shoulder at the
“Mainly honeymooners complain?” Dera Morgan asked as she followed Alec Thorn into the allegedly haunted bedroom. Moonlight filled the elegant chamber through windows that overlooked the Welsh countryside, giving the air a cool, silvered quality.
“Yes.” Alec was skeptical that a spirit inhabited the old manor house that he’d converted to an upscale inn. “Because of the ghost , they never get to…um…finish what they’re doing. If you know what I mean.”
Dera certainly did know. If nothing else, the twinkle in Alec’s green eyes gave it away. That twinkle also stirred her desires to finish what had started between them when she’d worked at his London real estate firm. Back then he had resisted her attempts at seduction, claiming it was unethical for a man to date a woman in his employ. But, three years later, she no longer worked for him, and the moment she’d seen him this evening, she’d known that her feelings for him hadn’t changed. But she wasn’t ready to act until she felt him out. No sense making a fool of herself again.
“It’s a lovely room,” she said, strolling to the center of it. Exposed beams gave the high ceilings an illusion of coziness while crimson hangings on the canopied bed lent richness to the décor. Old tapestries hung from the stone walls between wide mullioned windows that sported plush window seats. “Quite where I should like to enjoy my honeymoon.”
Alec tucked his hands into the pockets of his jeans, drawing Dera’s gaze downward. She blushed when she realized she was staring, looking for the most obvious sign that his feelings for her—at least the physical ones—had remained unchanged over the years.
She couldn’t tell. Still, she was hopeful.Alec might have resisted her in the past, but he’d never denied that he’d wanted her. In fact, after she’d kissed him passionately their last night together, he’d confessed his powerful attraction to her. But he’d been adamant that nothing could come of it.
“Anytime you’d like to spend a night here, you’ve but to say so,” he said, his voice heavy with what she hoped was meaning.
Reaching the bed, she ran one hand over the pale gray bedspread. The velvet tickled her palm almost as strongly as his tone tickled that spot behind and below her belly. “I think tonight might be a good night. For ghost hunting, of course.”
“Of course.”
As his gaze roamed down her body, pausing on her breasts, she nipped at her lower lip. Had she dressed too provocatively? The moment she’d realized who was calling her office the previous morning, she’d decided that her regular ghost hunting outfit of khaki trousers and black sweater would never do. But had she gone overboard with her skin-tight jeans and red silk blouse? Was she being too obvious?
His appreciative smile convinced her she’d chosen well. Oh yes. There was hope.
Averting her own smiling gaze, she reached inside the leather bag that hung from her left shoulder and drew out her K2 meter. Its LED lights flashed briefly when she switched it on and then they turned dark. She began to move around the room, watching the lights on the device for any sign of electromagnetic energy that might indicate the presence of a spirit.
“What’s that?” Alec asked.
His boot heels made a heavy, determined sound against the oak floor as he followed her and she couldn’t help looking back at him. He wore a buttery yellow sweater over his black jeans, and his v-shaped neckline revealed just a bit of the hair on his chest. She’d seen his bare chest their last night together in London—hell, she’d practically ripped his shirt from his body—and the memory of their kiss caused another ticklish tug of muscle deep inside her lower body.
“It’s an electromagnet field detector,” she answered, stopping at the foot of the bed. “It picks up on the energy of spirits.”
“Very scientific.” Reaching her, he peered over her shoulder at the
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