"My pleasure. You know your way home?"

"I'm staying at Ronan's Lodge."

"That's just down two blocks. I'll stand here and make sure you make it. You turn back and give me a wave when you reach the steps."

His offer was unexpected. She wasn't worried about anything happening between here and the hotel, but it was nice to know that someone would notice if it did.

"Thank you," she said. "You're very kind."

He winked at her. "I've been called a lot of different things, Charity, but I'll accept kind. You have yourself a nice night."

"I will."

She walked the rest of the way to the hotel. Once she reached the steps leading to the lobby, she turned back. Morgan was watching. She gave a wave and he raised his hand in return. Then he went back to sweeping.

She was going to like it here, she decided. While every place had its quirks, there was a lot to appreciate in Fool's Gold.

She paused before pushing through the double doors leading to the inside of the hotel. They were large and heavily carved, the workmanship from another era.

Ronan's Lodge, also known as Ronan's Folly, was a huge hotel on the edge of the lake. It had been built when gold flowed like the rivers the men panned it from. Ronan McGee, an Irish immigrant, had come west to make his fortune, then he'd spent much of what he'd earned to create the hotel.

Charity had read its history the last time she'd been in town. She'd been unable to sleep the night before her interview and had read all the tourist brochures in her room.

Now, as she walked into the large lobby, with the carved wood panels on the walls and the ma.s.sive imported chandelier made of Irish crystal, she felt a sense of homecoming. Eventually she would buy a house and settle in to life in Fool's Gold, but Ronan's Lodge was the best kind of temporary housing.

She walked past the registration desk, toward the curved staircase that would take her to the second floor. From there a smaller staircase wound up to the third floor, where she had a small suite.

She'd barely put her hand on the banister, had yet to take even that first step, when someone spoke. The voice came from behind her and spoke only a single word.

"h.e.l.lo."

She didn't have to look to know who was talking. All she had to do was stand there, feeling her heart race uncontrollably in her chest as heat and awareness flooded her.

Her week had begun with a Josh Golden invasion and it seemed it would end that way, as well. The only question she had as she braced herself before turning to face him was why, of all the men in all the world, it had to be him.

CHAPTER THREE.

CHARITY TURNED TO find Josh standing next to her in the lobby. He was just as tall as she remembered, his tousled hair looking more gold than blond in the flattering light. His hazel-green eyes crinkled slightly at the corners as his mouth curved up in an easy smile. He was very possibly the best-looking man she'd ever seen in person. And hey, she'd seen his naked b.u.t.t again just a few hours earlier. Talk about making it difficult to concentrate.

"I'm Josh," he said. "We met in the mayor's office."

She nearly choked on a laugh. As if she would forget. "Yes," she said, hoping she sounded calm and completely unaffected by his presence. "Earlier this week. You took over my meeting, then closed the deal. I remember."

"You're not p.i.s.sed about that, are you?"

She was many things-confused about why her body had to react to him the way it did. Annoyed that he'd had access to information she couldn't get and had therefore done a better job than her at the presentation. Hungry and tired. But she wasn't p.i.s.sed.

"I'm fine," she a.s.sured him. "We needed to get the university to sign and that's what happened. I should probably thank you."

She paused, hoping he would excuse himself to get back to whatever...or whoever...brought him to the hotel. Instead he continued to look at her.

She tried not to feel his gaze, or react to it. A task that took way more effort than it should have.

After a few seconds of staring at him and watching him stare back, she said, "I don't want to keep you from your evening."

"You're not." He pointed to the stairs. "Shall we?"

"Shall we what?"

"Climb. We're neighbors. You're 301, and I'm 303."

He put his hand on the small of her back, as if to guide her up the stairs. Instinctively, she moved with the pressure, refusing to acknowledge the bolts of electricity zigging and zagging in every direction. There was heat radiating from each of his fingers-a heat that made her desperately long for bare skin on skin, an unused closet and fifteen minutes alone with Josh.

Blood sugar, she told herself. She had low blood sugar.

"Why do you live at a hotel?" she asked, mostly to distract herself.

"Why not? It's centrally located, there's room service and someone else makes my bed every morning."

"The ultimate in not taking responsibility for your life?" she asked, then wished she hadn't. So much for a flip answer.

Instead of getting annoyed, Josh chuckled. A low, s.e.xy, appealing sound that made her break out in gooseb.u.mps.

"Because taking responsibility is the height of perfection?" he asked.

"It's a sign of maturity."

"A quality that's highly overrated."

For him, she thought grimly. She'd been responsible for taking care of herself since she was nine or ten years old. She'd always envied those who were carefree enough to not have to worry. Those who knew they would be looked after by others. That hadn't been an option for her. Her mother had been the free spirit in the family, leaving Charity to make sure their world ran smoothly.

Charity had always loved her mother and wished she was different in equal measures. Sure it was fun to have a parent who never said you had to go to school or do homework, but there were also times when a kid wanted structure and rules. Charity had learned to provide those for herself.

They reached the third floor. She hurried ahead, wanting to reach her room and escape inside. Some how, though, he got in front of her and leaned against her door.

"We should have a drink sometime," he said, his hazel-green eyes gazing into hers and making every cell in her body sigh in appreciation.

"I'm not sure spending time with a man who cheerfully declares himself to be immature and irresponsible is a good thing."

The low chuckle came again. "I'm not as bad as all that."

"Aren't you?"

He turned in a slow circle. "Look. I'm completely normal. Practically boring."

He was many things, but boring wasn't one of them.

Before she could point that out, his door opened. A beautiful blonde wearing one of his shirts and nothing else looked at him.

"h.e.l.lo, Josh. I thought I heard your voice."

Josh straightened. Charity took advantage of the distraction to slip into her room and carefully lock the door behind her. She leaned against the wall for a few seconds before bending over and turning on a lamp.

As light flooded the small but elegantly furnished living room, she ignored the sense of defeat knotting in her stomach and told herself she wasn't even surprised. Of course a guy like Josh would have a woman waiting in his room. They probably came in shifts. From everything she'd heard, he loved women and they loved him back.

She squared her shouders. Even if she couldn't control her physical reaction to him, she could control what she did about it, which would be exactly nothing.

BY FRIDAY CHARITY was more comfortable in the old City Hall building and had learned the name of nearly everyone who worked there.

Her eleven o'clock meeting was with Pia O'Brian, something she'd been looking forward to ever since Sheryl had put it on her calendar.

Pia arrived right on time, her brown curly hair tumbling past her shoulders, her well-cut suit emphasizing her long legs.

"How are you settling in?" Pia asked as Charity led her to the small conference table by the window. "Ready to run screaming back to the big city?"

"I like it here. Small town life suits me."

"You say that now," Pia said, her voice teasing. She set a stack of folders on the table. "Give it a few months, when you realize everyone in town knows your business and they're not afraid to talk."

Charity laughed. "My life isn't that interesting. Why would anyone care?"

"You're new. Fresh gossip for the ladies in town. Just remember-there aren't any secrets. Not for long."

"Thanks for the warning." She eyed the folders. "Light reading?"

"I like to think the information won't put you to sleep, but I can't guarantee that." Pia tapped the pile. "These are recaps of the last two years' worth of festivals, celebrations and general civic good times. The Fourth of July parade, the Christmas Lights Fantasy Night, that sort of thing. The ever-popular Gold Rush Days. If it needs a booth of any kind and it's happening in Fool's Gold, I'm probably involved. Or at the very least, offering advice. So if you ever need two thousand folding chairs at a great price, see me first."

"I hope I never do," Charity murmured.

"Not planning a big wedding?"

"Not dating."

"Me, either."

"I'm new in town," Charity told her. "What's your excuse?" She couldn't imagine Pia being without a man. She was so pretty and outgoing.

"A total lack of men," Pia said cheerfully. "I'm sure Marsha explained that you need to focus on male-based businesses. The last thing we need around here is a beauty college. I do my best with male-oriented events. Golf tournaments, car shows." Pia both looked and sounded serious.

Charity couldn't help laughing. "I know this is a big deal, but you have to admit, it's really strange."

"Tell me about it. There were ten percent more girls than guys in my high school graduating cla.s.s. That made prom time very ugly."

"Not that you went without a date."

Pia shrugged. "No, but a couple of my friends had to import guys for the dance. Very humiliating."

"You grew up here?"

Pia hesitated, then nodded. "Born and raised. Third generation. Or is it fourth? I can never remember. My parents moved away years ago, but I stayed. The last of the O'Brians in Fool's Gold." She grinned. "It's a lot of responsibility."

"Apparently." Charity leaned toward her. "Living here all your life must be great. I moved around constantly when I was growing up. My mom didn't like to settle, but it was all I dreamed about. Getting to know everything about a place, putting down roots. You're lucky."

Something flickered in Pia's eyes. "The disadvantage is that whole lack of secrets thing. Everyone knows everything about you. Sometimes I think it would be very nice to be able to walk down the street without anyone knowing who I was."

"It can be lonely."

"So can small town life." Pia shook her head. "Okay, enough with the philosophy and back to business. I have this year's festival schedule for you to look over. Depending on what kind of business you're courting, you might want to invite a few executives and their families to experience small town life. Or better yet, single male executives. We're at our best during the festivals. All friendly and spruced up."

Charity scanned the list. "When is the town not spruced up? There's something nearly every month."

"That's not even everything," Pia continued. "There are also various charity events. We were going to have a bike race, but that keeps getting pushed off."

Bike race? As in Josh Golden's territory? Charity thought about asking but was afraid Pia would think the question implied interest.

"There are the charity golf tournaments," Pia continued. "We have a great golf course. Several, actually, but the pro course is well known. Don't ask me why-I don't do the golf thing. And I'm not big on the celebrities themselves. Too high-maintenance."

"Good to know," Charity murmured. "So you won't be looking there for a husband."

Pia laughed. "I'm not sure I'm the marrying kind. I don't even know if I want kids. I'm still at the keeping-a-plant alive stage of my life. Next, I'll consider getting a pet."

"At least you have a plan."

"I'll let you know how it works out for me."

They went through the rest of the festival event schedule. Charity promised to look over the material and let Pia know if she had any questions.

Pia collected her purse and briefcase and stood. "I'm glad you took the job, Charity. I know you were Marsha's number one choice for it. Which is saying something because numbers two and three were single guys."

"I'm all the more appreciative."

"As you should be." Pia laughed. "By the way, there's a group of women who get together a couple times a month. Sort of a girls' night out. Want me to call you the next time we get together?"

"Yes. Thanks. I'd really like that."

"Then I'll be in touch." Pia gave a little wave and left.

Charity returned to her desk, where she could see the stack of folders she would be carrying home that evening for review. She'd been so busy with her job that she hadn't had time to turn on the TV in her hotel room. Probably not a bad thing. Although a case could be made that a social life would be nice.

Instead of thinking of Robert, a perfectly pleasant and normal single guy, her brain immediately flitted to Josh. The man who had been hitting on her while his nightly entertainment waited in his room. Talk about tacky.

At least a girls' night out would be fun and a chance to make friends in town. Over the weekend, she could start exploring the area, maybe find out if the local community college had interesting cla.s.ses on things like cooking or knitting. She needed to get out more.