Free Ranger's Wild Woman by Tina Leonard

above the trees and just below the stars. “It’s so romantic,” she breathed.
    “Imagine what it will look like at night.” Ranger tossed their duffels onto the white-carpeted floor. “We can do some major stargazing just sitting on the sofa.”
    Hannah shivered, thinking about stars and nighttime and Ranger. “There’s a telescope near the balcony.”
    “Mmm.” He looked in the fireplace. “And gas logs. Ecologically minded guy is our Hawk.”
    “Did you think he’d be the tree-burning type?” She scratched her arm. “I’m going to find the kitchen. I’m starved. If he’s got pretzels, I’ll be thankful. That’s all I ask for. Pretzels and some cold water.”
    The kitchen was an elaborate chef’s paradise, with copper pots hanging from a rack in the ceiling and a small stairway leading into a wine cellar.
    “Oh, boy.” Ranger reached in and snagged a bottle. “Shall we have wine with dinner? Or at least wine?”
    There was a note on the fridge. “Hannah and Ranger,” she read, “allow me to fix the first meal that you share as honeymooners. It’s not much, but I had to think quickly. You’ll find a chicken spaghetti casserole in the fridge. Heat at 350 degrees until bubbly. Enjoy the wine cellar. Hawk.”
    Hannah could feel a blush sneak over her cheeks. “He thought of everything.”
    “Yeah, I feel like I’m at a resort. Won’t he be disappointed when he learns we won’t be sharing a meal as honeymooners?” Hawk popped the wine cork and poured two glasses.
    “He’ll be gone for a few months. He won’t ever know. And I can eat fine under false pretenses, thank you. Pop that in the oven, since you said you were cooking. Although it seems to me you’ve gotten off the hook. I’m going to go bathe.” She snatched up her wineglass and left the room.
    The master bedroom was beautiful, with mahogany wood and soft draperies decorating a room that looked out over the trees. However, it was the master bath that left her breathless. “Hey, Ranger!”
    “Change your mind so soon about wanting me?” he said as he walked into the bathroom. “Whoa. That is a bathtub made for two. Maybe four.”
    “I’ve never seen anything like that in my life.” Hannah picked up a bottle of bubble bath that rested on the edge of the marble. “Crabtree and Evelyn. You know what?” She glanced up at Ranger.
    “You tell me. I’m not knowing much of anything right now.”
    “Something’s fishy with this Hawk guy. If he had all this up here, why did he leave you in the cave when you were ill?”
    “Because he couldn’t have dragged me up here without a crane,” Ranger said sensibly. “And he didn’t know us. I mean, we could have been ax murderers, for all he knew.”
    “True,” she murmured. “But doesn’t all this seem extravagant? For one man? A recluse?”
    “I don’t know. I don’t care. I’m jumping in that tub if you don’t. Hey,” he said, as if he’d just had the thought to end all thoughts, “why don’t we get in there together to conserve water? Have you heard that filling a bathtub takes more water than the average shower?”
    Hannah held up her hands. “I’m soaking alone, sans you.”
    He eyed the tub. “But we’d fit in there so nicely. You’re going to be lonely.”
    “Trust me. I’ll be enthusiastically lonely.”
    His eyebrows raised.
    She sighed. “You are so starting to scare me. When did your brain kick into sex drive?”
    “I don’t know. Maybe since we got married? It must have been the fever. I wasn’t like this before.”
    “Oh, yeah. You were. I distinctly remember you slinking into the Never Lonely Cut-n-Gurls salon. And since you don’t appear to have had a haircut in oh, maybe two years, I think it’s safe to say you went there for another reason.”
    His dark gaze trained on her. “You don’t trust me.”
    She shrugged. “Go away. I’m going to make a friend, otherwise known as a washcloth puppet, and scrub my feet. After that sandstorm