Free Passions in the North Country (Siren Publishing Classic) by Summer Newman Page A

“By the sounds of it, they were definitely in love.”
    “Never consummated,” Miriam said. “Unfulfilled passions.”
    Jenny laughed at Miriam’s terminology, thinking she must read romances, too. “Or maybe the door was opened without anyone knowing about it.”
    “Don’t be scandalous, dear,” Miriam said with a mischievous twinkle in her eye.
    Jenny’s eyes also flashed. “What do you think, Miriam? You’re a young woman in love with a handsome captain, who just happens to be in love with you. There’s only a door separating you. It doesn’t even have a lock. What do you think?”
    “There was more than a door, dear.”
    Jenny waited for an explanation.
    “Her vows stood between them. No matter how much she wanted to, she could not. And no matter how much he wanted to, he could not.”
    “Methinks there is a lot of history here,” Jenny said thoughtfully. “What happened inside these walls I can only imagine. It must have been a fascinating dynamic.”
    “So, you like the room?” Miriam said, growing upbeat.
    “Love it,” Jenny replied. “I feel right at home.”
    “Good. I’ll leave you here to put your things away. Come down when you’re ready, okay?”
    “Okay.”
    Miriam gave Jenny the keys, left the room, and walked out of the Captain’s House. Seconds after putting away her things, Jenny hurried to the door that separated Maria’s room from the Captain’s room. She tentatively opened it, stepped across the threshold, and gave the quarters an inspection. The Captain’s room was identical in size and also had two windows, but above his huge bed was a set of deer antlers and an antique musket resting on the rack. There was a huge bed with a plain white spread and pillows in yellow cases. On his desk was a picture of a ship and a lamp in the shape of a ship’s wheel. Next to the door, oddly enough, was an old pair of rubber boots. Jenny could not help wondering if they were boots that had been worn by the Captain and left untouched all those years, or if Devon had been working on a rainy day and had merely left them there.
    She left the room, quietly closed the door, and then leaned her back on it. “I would have loved to be a fly on the wall in here,” she said. “I bet it got so steamy.”
    Jenny locked the main door and emerged into the bright light. Devon was just outside the door, carrying two cans of paint. They looked at each other, their eyes locking, and now, in the light, in the quiet of an intense moment, she realized for the first time just how truly nice looking he was. Devon had a look of intelligence, authority, even the air of a gentleman. But put the two of them together and you had fire and ice. They could not coexist, could not find mutual ground, could not inhabit the same universe.
    “It’s not going to work,” he said, looking her right in the eye.
    “What isn’t going to work?”
    “You.”
    She looked challengingly at him. “Me what?”
    “You aren’t going to work out,” he said.
    “I’m working for Miriam,” Jenny shot back, her jaw firmly set, “not you. If you want to call the police and have me thrown off the property, so be it. Until then, stay out of my way!”
    She walked toward him, her head down and an intense look on her face. Devon gritted his teeth and knitted his brows. Jenny stopped right beside him without saying anything, but she knew he could smell the succulent scent of honeysuckle shampoo lingering in her hair, and the hint of perfume dabbed behind her ears, an exotic and subtle concoction brewed to drive men mad. She was in heat. She was ready. Primed. In her thoughts, only a short time ago, her natural juices had flowed so strongly that the hair at her opening was dewed with strong sex scent. She was unaware of it, though she knew she was slippery, and hot, and open. There was a steady glow in her damp, dark, musky cave. It was a pleasing numbness, but only a precursor of the powerful tremors that yearned for release. Jenny