The Man Behind The Mask: How to Melt a Frozen Heart / The Man Behind the Pinstripes / Falling for Mr Mysterious. Melissa McClone
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lips with hers. And that’s when the bottom really fell out of her world.
Brendan Grant’s lips were like silk warmed through with honey.
Nora considered herself something of an expert on energy, but nothing could have prepared her for this exchange.
His energy was pure and powerful.
It swept through her, until it felt as if every cell in her whole body was vibrating with welcome for what he was.
A life force. Compelling. All-encompassing.
And that was before his kiss deepened. Taking her. Capturing her. Promising her. Making her believe…
…in the breadth and depth and pure power of love.
She broke away and stood staring at him, her chest heaving, her mind whirling, her soul on fire.
She didn’t want to believe! Belief had left her shattered. Her belief in such things had left her weak and vulnerable and blind.
And she was doing it again.
Love! How could the word love have entered the picture? She hadn’t given it permission! She hadn’t invited it into her life! If anything, she was actively avoiding such a complicated twist to her already overwhelming life.
Realistically, she knew next to nothing about this man.
Except that he had known sorrow.
And that he was good to his deceased wife’s grandmother.
And had given her nephew a chance.
And could hold a bunny with tenderness.
And could turn an ordinary moment into a dance.
And had made her laugh.
And was afraid of crumbling along with the walls that came down.
The truth was that Nora felt she knew more about Brendan Grant in less than twenty-four hours than she had known about Dr. Vance Height in more than two years.
“I don’t know wh-what got into me,” she stammered, and could feel the heat moving up her cheeks. She had kissed a stranger. It didn’t matter that she felt she knew him. That was crazy. That was the illusion!
“I need to go. I need to go check on Luke. And Charlie. And your grandmother. And—”
“Hey!” He stepped in close to her, touched her cheek, looked deep into her eyes. “Don’t make it more than it was. A spontaneous moment between a healthy man and a beautiful woman.”
She stared at him.
It was nothing to him. Well, of course! No matter what she read into it, they did not know each other. While she was falling in love, he was building his walls higher.
“I—I’m not beautiful,” she stammered. Of all the things she could have said, why that?
“Yes,” he said, his voice husky, his thumb moving down her cheek and scraping delicately over her lip. “Yes, you are.”
Because she had needed to hear that. Had needed someone to see the woman in her.
And for a moment she thought he was going to kiss her again. And she knew, despite her attempt at resolve, she would not do a single thing—not one single thing—to stop him.
But then he stepped back from her, shoved his hands into his pockets.
“How about if I start on the chores? While I wait for Deedee?”
Pride and a need for self-protection made Nora want to refuse. But if she said no, he would know that something he had dismissed as nothing had shaken her right to her core.
And practicality took over. As he had pointed out, her volunteers were largely little old ladies. Here was someone who could do the heavy work. She couldn’t turn it down.
“Do you think I could get you to move some hay bales?”
“Sure, just show me what you need done.”
Trying to shake off that awareness of him—a need that he had unleashed within her and that she intended to fight with her whole heart—Nora led him through the small-animal section.
She was going to pretend nothing had happened.
But it was harder, as she watched him walk through her world with easy familiarity, pausing to scratch a cat’s ear, to stick his finger through mesh to tickle a kitten. Even the hamsters seemed to recognize him, and scurried to the wire to say hello.
They stopped in front of the colorful parrot, which at once swore loudly at Nora, using a term so derogatory to females it made her flush. Then the parrot switched to French.
Brendan’s lips twitched. His voice stern, he said, “Lafayette, fermez la bouche.”
“Ooh,” she teased, unable to resist, even though she knew the dangers of teasing, “you speak French. What did you say?”
“Romantic gibberish,” he said, wagging a fiendish eyebrow at her. “It means shut your mouth.”
And the tension that had been building between them since their lips met exploded into laughter once again.
“What do you do with animals like Lafayette?” he asked when the laughter stopped. “The ones that won’t be adopted for whatever reason?”
“I’m pretty new at this. I’ve only had the shelter open for six months. Demand for adoptable pets has outstripped animals coming in. I even found a home for a white rat! So far, that’s a decision I haven’t had to make.”
“Maybe you should have a plan,” he suggested.
She decided it would make her feel way too vulnerable to let him know how she dreaded the day she would have to make that decision, let alone plan for it.
They continued through the barn, and the dogs went crazy when they saw Brendan. With easy confidence, he moved into each pen and opened the door out to the run.
There were three dogs in residence, a black Lab with only three legs, which had been found out wandering. The cocker spaniel, Millie, had been brought in because her owner couldn’t afford the diabetes medication. The puppy was of an unknown breed. A week ago he’d been a matted and flea-infested mess, wary of people. Now he gamboled after Brendan.
“I don’t suppose you want to take one home?” Nora asked ruefully. “The dog with three legs?”
“You had me pegged right as a guy who wouldn’t even have a plant.”
It was a warning to her, whether he knew it or not.
Not a man to pin any kind of romantic dream on.
But she already knew that. She was so done with romantic dreams. Though there was something about being dipped over a man’s arm that could breathe them back to life in anyone, even a more hardened soul than her.
And there was something about seeing him with animals that told the truth about who and what he was, even if he didn’t know that himself.
“You’ll have no trouble finding a home for this little guy,” he said of the enthusiastic puppy. “I’m not so sure about Long John Silver over there. Really, you should have a plan.”
“I don’t want a plan!” she said. “What? After six months get rid of him? How could I walk by that cage every day if time was counting down?”
“That sounds a bit like attachment to me.”
“Well, it isn’t!”
It felt so much more powerful to be annoyed with him than it had felt being in his arms.
Finally, they arrived at a large stack of hay, and without being told, Brendan got a wheelbarrow and began to pull bales down. Nora went back to cleaning cages, putting in food and changing water.
Her