All Night Long

a—” She broke off, wryly amused by her chaotic reaction to Luke’s abrupt departure. She told herself that she ought to feel greatly relieved. It was far too soon to go to bed with a man she barely knew. She had issues that were bound to complicate things, anyway. Sooner or later they always did.
    Better to focus on tomorrow night, instead, she decided.
    Luke had mentioned staying at an inn. Was he thinking one room or two? Should she shop for a new nightgown tomorrow along with a new dress? And what about her issues?

    She turned slowly away from the door, her brain swirling and her senses tingling with the anxiety of anticipation.
    The sight of the darkness spilling out of the bedroom hallway did not immediately register.
    Her autonomic nervous system, set to a level of hyperaware-ness seventeen years earlier, responded instantly however. It flashed into full panic mode before her conscious mind had finished processing the data.
    She froze in mid-step and mid-breath, trying to control the fear sparking through her.
    The light in the bedroom was off She knew she had left it on. She always left a light on in every roo t night. Always.
    Maybe the overhead fixture in the other room had burned out.
    Get a grip. It’s an old cabin. Old wiring. Old bulbs.
    Somewhere in the river of darkness that flooded out of the bedroom, a floorboard squeaked.

Twenty-Four
    What he had glimpsed in those spectacular eyes was feminine disappointment, Luke mused, easin he SUV along the lane back toward his cabin. He was sure of it. Irene had recovered quickly but not quickly enough to conceal her reaction to his oh-so-gentlemanly departure.
    She had definitely been willing to do some more fooling around tonight.
    Problem is, lady, I’m too old to playgames. The next time we get close it’s going to
[_be all or nothing and we both know that tonight is too soon for you. _]

    Strategy was the key, he reminded himself. It was always the key. Unfortunately, strategy exacted it wn price. He glanced back at the warmly lit cabin. Maybe he could handle a little fooling around. Sure,
    it would cost him some sleep.
    Don’t go there, if you get started tonight, you’re not going to be able to stop and
[_you know it. You _]
    don’t want her having regrets in the morning.
    There was something wrong with Cabin Number Five, he thought. It looked different tonight.
    The bedroom was dark.
    An uneasy sensation whispered through him. He braked to a stop. There had still been some daylight left when they set out for the drive around the lake. Maybe Irene had forgotten to leave the lights on in the bedroom. Or maybe a lamp was out. The least he could do was offer to change it for her. Maxine was always telling him that a strong service orientation was the key to repeat business.
    Could he make excuses, or what?
    He put the vehicle into reverse.
    The front door of the cabin slammed open just as he reached the drive. Irene burst out onto the porch. She vaulted the three steps, spotted the SUV and plunged toward it.
    “Luke.”
    The figure of a man loomed in the doorway of the cabin. He held an object in one hand.
    Luke was out of the SUV , moving toward Irene with no conscious memory of having opened the door.
    “Someone,” she gasped. “Someone inside—”
    He grabbed her arm and hauled her around to the far side of the SUV putting the vehicle’s massive bulk between them and the man in the doorway.
    He yanked open the passenger-side door and pushed her inside. “Get in and stay down.”

    She didn’t argue.
    The intruder moved out of the doorway onto the front porch.
    “Miss Stenson, wait,” he called in a hoarse, frantic voice. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”
    “What the hell?” Luke moved toward the front of the SUV “Is that you, Mills?”
    Tucker Mills lowered his voice. “It’s me, Mr. Danner. I’m surely sorry. I didn’t want anyone else t now I was here y’see.”
    “It’s okay, Tucker. Drop whatever it is you’re holding in your hand.” Luke kept his tone easy nonthreatening.
    “Sure, Mr. Danner.”
    Tucker released his grip on the object in his hand. It fell soundlessly to the floor of the porch. Not un or a knife, Luke thought.
    He went forward swiftly. When he mounted the steps, Tucker stepped back nervously, hands hal aised in a pathetic gesture of anxiety and self-defense. “Please, Mr. Danner. I didn’t mean any harm. Honest.”
    Feeling a lot like a thug, Luke glanced down at the object Tucker had dropped. It