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

not find him handsome?”
    “Not my type,” Jenny said, wanting to end the conversation.
    Miriam took the cue and changed the subject, mentioning how quickly and efficiently the young men were working. She also noted that Devon was helping out and getting along very well with Danny, actually in an unexpectedly positive way. This arrangement, Miriam said, was a stroke of genius on Jenny’s part.
    It was obvious that the elderly woman looked at Jenny with admiration bordering on praise. It was as if Jenny was their salvation, an angel sent from on high to rescue them in the moment of dire need. She would resurrect the hotel, bring back the guests, the reputation, the promise, the heritage.
    “I’ll do my best with the hotel,” Jenny said, understanding perfectly well that Miriam had created lofty, if not unreachable, standards for her.
    When Jenny looked out the window, she saw Devon working with the painters. Then she was drawn back into her conversation with Miriam, but she continually found herself scanning the grounds for him. Many times she studied his movements, the way he interacted with others, even the way he smiled and laughed. Yes, smiled and laughed. To her he had always been a bear, a man without humor or personality, but to others he was helpful, even pleasant.
    Wonder of wonders.
    Suddenly he walked into the hotel and into the back room of the office. Jenny looked up at him, pretending to hardly notice, but her heart fluttered. His presence was a powerful force in her life—why and how, she did not know, but he lit her pilot light for whatever reason.
    He walked to the refrigerator and got a glass of ice cold lemonade out of the refrigerator. He ignored Jenny and she tried to ignore him, but she could not. Out of the corner of her eye she watched him. It struck her how he didn’t bother to take off his bulky work gloves and how he seemed unconcerned when some lemonade spilled on his shirt. As it got wet, the thin material clung to his virile form, exposing the bulky, thick muscles of his upper body and strong chest. Jenny couldn’t help thinking that had he been born in a different time, he might have been a barbarian traveling in search of booty and battle.
    What a rough, uncultured man, she thought, fascinated by him. I could never live with a man like him.
    But she couldn’t stop watching him either. She had seen workmen before, yet none of them looked like Devon. The dark green coveralls he wore enhanced his emerald-green eyes, and his white T-shirt matched the brilliant whiteness of his perfect teeth. He took another drink, and when he tilted his head back, Jenny noticed the thick muscles of his neck and the incredible muscular definition where his chest and shoulders meet. He was all man, so essentially, incredibly male. He had such a presence that when he was in the room, there was no way of not noticing him. And when he went outside and back to work, the room seemed strangely empty. It was almost as if the colorful world had suddenly been turned to black and white.
    “So, what do you think?” Miriam said loudly, gazing at Jenny as if there might be something wrong.
    “Excuse me?”
    “Are you feeling well? Your face looks flushed.”
    “I’m fine,” Jenny said, snapping out of her reverie.
    “I was just asking you about the hotel.”
    “Oh,” Jenny said. “I think the hotel is very nice.”
    “No, I mean the promotional ideas. We’ve got some rooms ready now and soon we’ll have all of them. Like I said, I don’t know the first thing about attracting guests. Devon isn’t all that great a businessman either.”
    “What do you mean?” Jenny asked, inexplicably feeling pleased at descriptions of his weakness in an area that was her strength.
    “Well, he’s a rare talent at fixing things and repairing the hotel, but I wouldn’t exactly call him the best salesman in the world. He’s friendly to a degree, but not in the way the owner of a hotel should be. It’s as though he’s