"I'll bring them in later." He unlocked the door and waited on the wide, rustic porch for her to join him. When she would have walked past him, his hand stopped her. "There is an old custom about carrying a bride across the threshold."
Her first impulse was to object, but she stifled it and let his strong arms cradle her against his chest. Her pulse stirred for an instant at the hard contact with his muscular shape, but she kept her grip on her icy composure. Rolt nudged the door open with his foot and carried her into the house.
"The custom has been observed. You may put me down now," Alanna said with chilling calmness.
His face was very close to hers, his gaze steady and unreadable. She could make out every detail from the faint, sun-weathered lines at the corners of his eyes to the harsh grooves carved near his mouth. For several long seconds, he held her. A peculiar tension vibrated along her taut nerves.
Slowly the arm under her knees relaxed, letting her legs slide to the carpeted floor. The other arm tightened its hold, flattening her breasts against the granite wall of his chest. She held herself rigid, neither struggling n
or submitting.
Rolt tipped her chin upward.
"Welcome home, Mrs. Matthews."
His mouth descended on hers with slow insistence. Controlled passion edged the possession. Alanna blocked out the hard strength of his arms and concentrated her thoughts on Kurt, the man she should have married, the man she would have married. It helped her ignore the persuasive pressure of his kiss.
There was a tightness to the line of his jaw when he raised his head. "You're not going to try to make this easy, are you?" For all the coolness of his voice, his eyes were sapphire chips of fiery blue.
"It was never my intention to make anything easy for you," she replied.
His arm tightened for a punishing second, then let her go. She stepped smoothly away from him, aware of a faint quiver in her knees, but she had successfully repelled his kiss. She was determined it would he the first of many times.
Ignoring Rolt, she glanced about the room. Smooth, unfinished cedar paneled the walls, broken often by large windows with a fireplace of large sand-colored stone. The carpet of cream beige was a luxuriously thick, deep shag, its rough texture in keeping with the style of the home. A long sofa was in front of the fireplace, covered in a rich brown velvet, and matching love-seats flanked the sofa in a cream and brown plaid. Indirect lighting was concealed in the beamed ceiling.
An extra wide hallway allowed her a glimpse of the dining room with windows running the length of one wall. The planks and railings of a sun deck were visible through the panes. There was a movement from Rolt, who had been standing some distance behind her. Alanna turned, as if she had forgotten his presence, which was an impossibility. The look in his eyes invited a comment about the house.
"It's very nice," she said indifferently.
"I'll show you around."
Without waiting to see if she wanted to, Rolt walked past her into the wide hallway. Shrugging a disinterest that wasn't true, Alanna followed. He gestured toward an open door leading off the hall, one she hadn't noticed.
"The study, where I sometimes work in the evenings," he said, and continued into the dining room.
Alanna looked in briefly, and had the sensation of a warm, dark cave, lined with books and dark leather furniture and the same pale beige carpet.
"The dining room, and beyond it the sun deck." There was a liberal use of ochres and bronzed golds in the sun-filled room and a breathtaking view of the lake at the bottom of the hill. "The kitchen is through there." His hand waved toward a wide arch and the native wood tone of the cupboards that could partially be seen. Alanna glanced around the opening at the kitchen filled with modem appliances in a setting that was decidedly homespun. She followed when Rolt returned to the hall and the open L-shaped staircase leading to the second floor.
At the top of the stairs, another wide hall encircled, the open stairwell, protected by a smoothly finished cedar railing to match the paneled walls. Three doors branched off from the hall, two on the front side of the house and one on the lake side.
"The bedrooms," stated Rolt.
"Obviously," she shrugged dryly.
"The two on the other side are the guest rooms and this is the main bedroom." He opened the door to the main bedroom as she had expected he would.
A king-size bed dominated the spacious room, a spread of shimmering brown velvet coveting its vast width. Windows flanked the bed, parted squares running nearly floor to ceiling. Again there was a panoramic view of the tree-lined lake, glittering mirror-smooth in the distance.
"Very nice," Alanna commented with marked indifference.
"There's a walk-in closet behind that door." Rolt gestured toward the left. "And the private bathroom is on the fight side. You can look around while I bring your suitcases up."
Alanna looked at the doors he had indicated, but didn't investigate. Nor did she make any remark about the suitcases. She didn't move until she heard Rolt at the bottom of the stairs. Then she walked into the hallway and around the stairwell to the other bedrooms. Both were small, at least by the standard of the master bedroom, and tastefully furnished. When she heard Rolt reenter the house, she walked quickly back to the master bedroom. Setting her two suitcases near the bed, he straightened, giving her a long, level look as if trying to measure her mood.
Aloofly she turned around to face the window, wanting to take no chances that he might read what was on her mind.
"If you'll excuse me—" mockery laced with cynicism was in his voice "—I'll change my clothes."