"I could get used to this," Holly said softly, and smiled. Mistletoe strolled into the kitchen and wrapped herself around Holly's legs.

"She even left you some chicken."

Mistletoe purred.

"You like Louise don't you?" Holly said, bending over and stroking her cat. Mistletoe raised her head to have it scratched between her ears. Her purr rumbled louder.

"I like her, too," Holly said. "And I like Jordan." She crouched down and rubbed under Mistletoe's chin.

"I have a confession," she continued. "I feel badly that Jordan got hurt saving your life, but I'm not completely sorry that he's having to rest for a while, if that makes sense."

Mistletoe looked at her with bright green, knowing eyes.

"I like coming here to visit him," Holly whispered.

Mistletoe's gaze never wavered. She seemed to figure out the topic of conversation, because her eyes narrowed and she gave a short, sharp pftt before walking off.

Holly followed her into the hallway, then made her way through the library. At the door to the study, she paused.

Jordan sat up in his hospital bed. Today he wore a cobalt blue T-shirt. While she missed his bare chest, the man sure knew how to fill out clothes. The shoulders were pulled tight, and the much-washed fabric molded itself against his chest.

Dark hair hung over his forehead, and his brow was furrowed in concentration. As always he took her breath away. Her legs began to tremble, and she wondered if she would be able to get out a coherent thought. After so many days she would have thought she would get over her attraction or befuddlement, but she hadn't. Briefly she wondered if it would always be like this.

She smiled. Always. As if they were going to continue to see each other. No doubt as soon as he was up and around, Jordan would be delighted to see the last of her. He only bothered with her because he was bored by spending so much time in his own company. Once he could resume his life, he wouldn't have time for a slightly overweight, shy, twenty-eight-year-old virgin.

She raised her hand and knocked on the door frame. Jordan looked up.

"I've been waiting for you," he said, deepening his voice until it sounded like thick dark chocolate blending with rich cream.

"I was delayed at the store. A couple of women came in wanting to buy wreaths. I have so many to choose from, they had trouble making up their minds. In the end they bought six."

Jordan set down the papers he'd been studying. "Far be it from me to interfere with your business." He motioned to the chair next to him. "Have a seat. I want to talk to you about something."

She settled down next to him, and he handed her an old photograph. She studied it for several seconds before recognizing the structure in the picture.

"This is your house," she said.

"Yeah. Right after it was completed. Check out the old cars in front."

Although the mansions in Glenwood had been constructed in the Victorian style, most of them had been built around the turn of the century or a few years later. They'd been the first in the area to have complete indoor plumbing and that newfangled invention: electric lights.

Holly noted the beautiful lines of the house, then realized the just-planted saplings all around the yard had grown to be the majestic oaks and pines she'd parked under today.

"Can I make it look like it used to?" Jordan asked.

"Sure. With enough time and money, anything is possible. Some original fixtures, switches and that sort of thing might be hard to find, but practically it's often better to use reproductions. If the structure is sound, you can do anything. I a.s.sume you had that checked before you bought the place."

He nodded.

"Then the rest of it isn't that bad."

She stared at the photo and wondered what it would be like to own something as wonderful as this house. Maybe Jordan would let her help him with some of the work. She would be thrilled to give him the benefit of her experience.

She held the picture, but instead of seeing the image, she saw Jordan laughing. Her mouth curved up in response. He was so good-looking he would be dangerous to be around for any length of time. But she would try to muddle through.

A part of her wondered why he was being so nice to her. She knew some of it was because she was keeping him company. Foolishly she wanted him to act that way because he liked her.

What a silly dream, she told herself, and knew it came from her loneliness. While her mother had been ill, especially the last couple of years before her death, Holly hadn't had time to make and keep friends. If she wasn't working to pay the bills, she was home caring for her mother.

After her mother's death, she'd been too numb to think about anything but surviving. Since moving to Glenwood, she'd finally been able to acknowledge the emptiness she carried around inside. However, she hadn't had a chance to do anything about it. Being with Jordan was both perfect pleasure and penetrating pain. He made her laugh and feel as if she finally fit in somewhere. He also pointed out the silence of her days and coldness of her nights. He made her want things she'd never had. He made her dream again.

While she didn't mind the dreaming, sometimes she found the process uncomfortable. Since meeting him, he had been the focal point of her dreams. Silly and pointless, she reminded herself. Jordan Haynes was-

A large hand moved up and down in front of her face. "Holly, are you still in there?"

She blinked several times and stared at him. "What?"

"I'm talking and talking, but you're a million miles away."

She laughed to cover up her rush of embarra.s.sment. Thank goodness he couldn't know what she was thinking.

"Sorry. This photograph set me off." She handed it to him, then folded her hands in her lap. "You have my complete attention. What were you saying?"

"I have a proposition for you."

"P-proposition?" Her mind went blank for a split second. Her body filled with that mysterious heat Jordan was forever setting off in her.

She was reasonably sure she was attracted to him. Her body was always tingling, burning, humming and shaking when they were together. But she didn't know what any of that meant. Was it normal? Would she get over it? Was it specifically about him, or would it have happened if she spent time with any good-looking man?

If only she had more experience with the male gender. If only she could know what to do.

He picked up a couple of photographs showing the interior of the house as it had been seventy years earlier. "I've wanted to start work, but I haven't had the time. And now with this-" he motioned to his hospital bed "-it's going to be a while until I can get going."

Holly bit her lower lip. She wasn't sure where he was going with this. Did he want her to offer to help? She would be happy to.

"That's where you come in," he said, and gave her a winning smile. She was relieved that she was sitting down.

If she'd been standing, she would have been concerned her knees would give out.

"I want to hire you," he said.

"Really?"

He nodded.

"I've never done anything like that before," she said slowly. "Although I don't know why I couldn't." She thought for a moment. "I would love to work on the house. It's wonderful. Just the dining room alone, with those high ceilings and the beautiful chair-rail molding. I do have the store, though. That would be my first priority."

"No problem. The store's closed Sunday and Monday, right?"