Enchanted Read Free Page B

talk to myself about with a quiet-footed neighbor around.”
    “Nearly a half mile between us should be enough. I like my solitude.” He said it firmly, and though it was ridiculous, it seemed to Rowan he wasn’t speaking to her, but to someone, something, in the darkening woods beyond. Then his gaze shifted back to her face, held. “I won’t infringe on yours.”
    “I didn’t mean to be unfriendly.” She tried a smile, wishing she hadn’t spoken so abruptly and irritated him. “I’ve always lived in the city—with so many neighbors, I barely notice any of them.”
    “It doesn’t suit you,” he said, half to himself.
    “What?”
    “The city. It doesn’t suit you or you wouldn’t be here, would you?” And what in bloody hell did it matter to him what suited her? he asked himself. She’d be nothing to him unless he decided differently.
    “I’m … just taking a little time.”
    “Aye, well, there’s plenty of it here. Do you know your way back?”
    “Back? Oh, to the cabin? Yes. I take the path to the right, then follow the stream.”
    “Don’t linger long.” He turned and started down, pausing only briefly to glance up at her. “Night comes quickly here this time of year, and it’s easy to be lost in the dark. In the unfamiliar.”
    “No, I’ll start back soon. Mr. Donovan—Liam?”
    He stopped again, his gaze clear enough that she caught the quick shadow of impatience in it. “Yes?”
    “I was wondering … Where’s your dog?”
    His grin was so fast, so bright and amused that she found herself beaming back at him. “I’ve no dog.”
    “But I thought— Are there other cabins nearby?”
    “Not for three miles and more. We’re what’s here, Rowan. And what lives in the forest between us.” He saw her glance uneasily at the verge of trees and softened. “Nothing that’s there will harm you. Enjoy your walk, and your evening. And your time.”
    Before she could think of another way to stop him, he’d stepped into and been swallowed up by the trees. It was then she noticed just how quickly twilight had fallen, just how chilly the air and how brisk the wind. Abandoning pride, she scrambled down the cliff path and called out to him.
    “Liam? Wait a minute, would you? I’ll walk back with you for a bit.”
    But her own voice echoed back to her, turning her throat dry. She moved quickly down the path, certain she’d catch a glimpse of him in the trees. There was nothing now but deep shadow.
    “Not only quiet,” she mumbled, “but fast. Okay, okay.” To bolster herself she paused to take three deep breaths. “There’s nothing in here that wasn’t here when there was more light. Just go back the way you came and stop being an idiot.”
    But the deeper she went, the thicker the shadows. Like a tide, a thin ground fog slid over the path, white as smoke. She would have sworn she heard music, like bells—or laughter. It harmonized with the sound of the water bubbling over rocks, whispered in counterpoint to the
whoosh
and sigh of the wind in the trees.
    A radio, she thought. Or a television. Sounds carried oddly in some places. Liam had turned on music, and for some reason she could hear it playing. It only seemed as if it was just ahead of her, in the direction of herown cabin. The wind played tricks.
    The sigh of relief as she came to the last bend of the stream froze in her throat as she saw the glint of gold eyes peering out of the shadows. Then, with a rustle of leaves, they were gone.
    Rowan increased her pace to a jog and didn’t break stride until she’d reached the door. She didn’t start breathing again until she was inside and the door was securely locked behind her.
    She moved quickly, switching on lights until the first floor of the cabin blazed with them. Then she poured herself a glass from one of the bottles of wine she’d brought along, lifted it in a toast and swallowed deep.
    “To strange beginnings, mysterious neighbors and invisible dogs.”
    To make herself