A stately white clapboard house stretched its wings from either side of the main building into darkness, its tall, narrow windows flanked by black shutters like so many thick lashes. Not a mansion built to mimic the elegance and gallantry of centuries gone by, but the real thing. A country manor house preserved in all its glory.

“And to think I passed on the Motel 21.” Dara rapidly revised her earlier assessment of Chaerin as a simple country vet. Chaerin hadn’t earned enough tending livestock to buy a place like this. Family money, maybe, or inherited. Definitely a mystery, and when the puzzle came wrapped up in a package like Lee Chaerin, a fascinating one she itched to unwrap.

Chaerin pulled the car around the circular drive and stopped. “The walk is tricky. Wait for me.”

Peering through the windshield, Dara got the impression of another sizeable building looming behind the house—the barn, she presumed. When Chaerin opened the door, the night rushed in, carrying the wild scent of the surrounding farmland and woods. She could almost believe she’d stepped through a time warp, and Chaerin’s sudden appearance did nothing to dispel the illusion. Her profile etched in starlight, her hair blowing, and one hand held out to Dara, she might have been the lord of the manor handing a lady down from her carriage.

Dara was no Cinderella, though, and she knew it only too well. Had she waited to be rescued so long ago, she would still be lugging trays.

“How’s the knee?” Chaerin asked.

“Better.” Dara let her hand linger on Chaerin’s shoulder and tested her damaged knee. Sore but serviceable. She relinquished her hold on Chaerin. “I think the treatment might be worse than the injury.”

“Often the case,” Chaerin said, “but this walk is uneven and you won’t be able to see the flagstones in the dark.”

“This is no little country farm.”

When they started toward the house, Chaerin slipped her arm around Dara’s waist, and Dara didn’t protest the chivalry. She might not need rescuing, but she liked the hard heat of Chaerin’s body. As long as she was the one in charge of the touching.

“Mulberry Ridge was once one of the largest farms in the state. I was lucky to get the house after the family sold off most of the land.”

“And there’s just you here?”

“Me, Beam, and a couple dozen horses, goats, and chickens.”

“Beam?”

A dark form cannonballed out of the shadows and bore down on them so quickly Dara gasped and pressed close against Chaerin. “What—”

“Beam,” Chaerin called sharply. “Take it easy. Walking wounded here.”

A wriggling Labrador Retriever skidded to a halt in front of them, tongue lolling and eyes glinting in the moonlight.

Dara laughed. “Your roommate?”

“One and the same.”

“Hello you.” Dara released her grip on Chaerin’s arm and leaned down to pet the dog.

“That’s enough, Beam. Go on up now,” Chaerin said.

The dog shot up the steps and Chaerin took Dara’s hand, helping her up to the wide plank porch. After unlocking the front door, Chaerin led the way inside and flipped on a light switch.

“Beam,” Chaerin said, “go in the kitchen.”

Dara was too absorbed by her surroundings to be more than momentarily impressed that the dog obeyed.

“This place is exquisite. Have you been here long?”

“A few years.” Chaerin tossed her keys casually onto an oak side table with a beveled mirror. “I’ll show you your room, then bring up your luggage.”

“All I need is the carry-on,” Dara said, recognizing that Chaerin was avoiding any discussion of the personal. Chaerin was a mass of contradictions, and so was Dara’s reaction to her. They’d only just met, but Chaerin had somehow gotten closer to her than anyone other than Bom had managed in years. Close enough to divert Dara from her plans to stay at the motel, close enough to convince Dara to stay at her home, close enough to take care of her, to have touched her more than once. Dara hadn’t let her close as much as Chaerin had crossed the barriers she had carefully constructed as if they didn’t even exist, and that made Dara wary. She felt vulnerable, and not just because Chaerin held her secrets even closer than Dara held hers. She was uncomfortably aware of liking Chaerin’s attention. A lot.

“I’ll wait here, if you want to grab my bag out of the car,” Dara said. “I can carry it upstairs.”

“No doubt. But I’m not going to watch you struggle with it just so you can prove you can do it.”

“Just when I think I’m starting to like you, you piss me off again.”

Chaerin grinned, an appealing, crooked grin that on anyone else would probably have come off as practiced. On her it was completely natural and all the more attractive. “I seem to do that a lot.”

“You’re right, you do. If you insist on playing the knight to my damsel in distress, just bring in the damn bag. I’m too tired for another power struggle.”

“I can’t see you in that role—damsel in distress.”

“Good. Neither can I.” Dara smiled. She could see Chaerin as a knight, though. She had that intensity and sense of purpose, and damn it, she liked that about her. Not at all her usual response to women trying to take charge. “I’ll get a head start on the stairs while you’re gone.”

Chae