Gift of Gold

earlier that afternoon about the evils of fast food. It had been his own fault, of course. He should have been more discreet with the greasy hamburger he had brought back from the chain restaurant in town.
    The problem was that there were occasions when he couldn’t resist deliberately provoking the little tyrant. He was rapidly learning just what sort of provocation it took to get a rise out of Verity. A part of him had guessed that the sight of the hamburger would do it and he had blandly let her see him eating it.
    Jonas was perceptive enough to realize that provoking the lady was a poor substitute for what he really ached to do with her. He wondered if she would fire him on the spot if she realized that while he scrubbed her pots and pans he was fantasizing about taking her on the kitchen floor.
    Once again Jonas wondered if he really could get faster answers to the mystery of Verity Ames if he did get her into bed. He was turning that over in his mind when he saw her cabin door open. Right on schedule. He pulled himself out of his reverie and watched her as she stood silhouetted for a moment in the light that shone through the open doorway.
    She was dressed in her usual discreet bathing suit and robe, her red hair caught up in a loose cluster of curls on top of her head. As Jonas watched she closed the door behind her, not bothering to lock it, and started down the path to the lodge.
    Jonas gave her a few minutes and then got to his feet. He reached down to pick up the two cans of beer he had put on the step earlier and then he set out after her.
    As he paced down the path behind her, Jonas studied the sweet, unconsciously seductive sway that characterized Verity’s stride. No doubt about it, the lady had one hell of a sexy tail. There was a gentle glide to her movements that appealed to him on a visceral level. It made him wonder how she would feel moving beneath him in passion. He could visualize those nicely curved legs wrapped around his waist, and he had no trouble at all imagining the lush globes of her buttocks filling his hands. Now he wanted to know the reality of what it would be like to make love to Verity Ames.
    Jonas had tried to be realistic during the past three days. He had told himself that, objectively speaking, Verity was not a great beauty, not by a long shot. She could have been a little taller, for one thing. Furthermore, she was a bit small on top, and overall she was much too thin, although Jonas didn’t fault her tiny waist. Verity’s slenderness was a direct result of the fact that she worked too hard, in his opinion.
    Her features were delicate but not classic. Her aqua-green eyes tilted up at the corners like those of a playful cat, and her nose was a bit sharp. There was a stubborn, feminine strength in the line of her jaw and firm little chin. It was a face that reflected intelligence and energy and a unique kind of sensuality.
    Jonas’s fingers tightened around the cold cans of beer and he quickened his step as Verity disappeared through a door at the back of the resort’s main building.
     
    Verity eased herself into the hot, bubbling water of the spa pool, sank down onto the bench seat, and leaned back against the white tile. She closed her eyes and exhaled slowly, a long, satisfied sigh of relief. Her feet hurt tonight. A peril of the restaurant business. The weekends were moneymakers but they took a lot of energy. She was never really sorry to see the arrival of Monday. Monday was the one day of the week the No Bull Cafe was closed during the summer and early fall. Soon she would start closing Sunday evenings, too. Winter was a quiet time in Sequence Springs.
    As Verity let the frothing hot water soothe and relax her weary muscles, she mentally chastised herself for running out of broccoli bisque earlier that evening. Jonas had seemed to think it was no big deal. But then, it wasn’t his restaurant.
    Nevertheless, he had handled the situation with casual aplomb. He had simply removed the item from the chalkboard that listed the evening’s specials and informed anyone who asked that there hadn’t been enough good broccoli to make more than a limited quantity of soup. That last bit had been a small fib. There had been plenty of excellent broccoli. Verity simply had not properly estimated the amount she would need for Sunday night.
    Mistakes such as that generally annoyed her. But Jonas’s calm attitude had made it easier for Verity to take the miscalculation more or