The Law of Desire by Gwyneth Bolton Page A

especially the way her full name rolled off his tongue.
    Nope, he didn’t have to say a word.
    The landscape along the way sort of took her mind off the big, powerful cop driving. She took in the fall foliage along the Pennsylvania highway as they made their way down I-80. Fall would always be her favorite time of year now that she saw what a real fall looked like. Who knew nature could look so beautiful when it was dying? The mix of gold, rust, red, orange and specks of green took her breath away. The entire drive had been so scenic. Once they made it about twenty minutes away from Paterson, she started to see why they called New Jersey the Garden State.
    After a little over two hours on the road, they arrived at their destination. The home was beautiful. It looked like something she’d seen on HGTV. The huge white house with yellow shutters had two stories. It had a wraparound porch with stacks of wood and even a couple of wooden rocking chairs.
    “This my family’s vacation home. My dad bought it a few years back when the security company he started after retiring early from the police department started to do really well. Hightower Security is now the leading security company in the East.” He paused and ran his hand across his head. “The family tries to get up here in the winter for some skiing and just hanging.”
    Vacation home? Skiing? Good grief!
    She knew her jaw must have been on the floor. Because her family had never owned a home let alone a vacation home. Add that to the fact that she didn’t even have family anymore and she got all the more reason why she needed to get over her growing infatuation with the detective. He was way out of her league.
    Talk about mooovin’ on up, tooooo the East siiide …she sang in her head.
    “I’ll bring in the bags. Pick any room you’d like. I’ll call the grocer and have some groceries delivered, depending on what’s in the fridge and freezer…Are you okay?” He stared at her.
    He must have noticed that she wasn’t moving. She tried to make her feet move and pick up her jaw but the inside of the place was just as gorgeous as the outside. Warm earth tones and rugged leather and wood furniture greeted her eyes, along with amazing African-American artwork that complemented the decor. Paintings by Ed Clark, Herbert Gentry, Vannette P. Honeywood and Brenda Joysmith. Minerva recognized them from her recent art history course in college. As she took in the cozy rusts, browns and creams, she remembered to exhale the breath she’d been holding. The house had six bedrooms. Six! She picked the smallest, least intimidating bedroom in the place and even that one had its own bathroom.
    When he dropped off her bags, she wasted no time getting in the shower. Maybe once she got out of her crusty clothes and got the God-awful weave out of her hair she would feel better and more capable of standing up to the detective.
    A girl could hope…
     

    It didn’t take Lawrence long to shower and get changed. There was one package of chicken legs and tons of tomatoes from his mother’s garden in the freezer, but not much more. He made a call to the grocery store, which was a few miles away, to have some things delivered. His family’s house was in a pretty isolated location in the Poconos. That was excellent for hiding out, but not so good when it came to getting stuff from the outside brought in. He made a mental note to call the sheriff and deputy, Dale and Jed, to let them know he was in the house and get them to help keep an eye out for the white van, just in case. They were small-town cops, but it couldn’t hurt.
    When the groceries were delivered and she still hadn’t come out of her room, he was starting to worry. After he put the food and supplies away and there was still no sign of her, he started to get pissed. He was not going to allow her to pull that silent treatment crap the entire time. Like it or not, he was only trying to help her and she needed to get over her