Harlequin Romance March 2021 Box Set Cara Colter (the mitten read aloud TXT) 📖

“And I might turn into a beast if I don’t satisfy my craving for pizza soon,” he said, feigning a growl. “Come on, let’s have a bite, then I’ll show you to Beauty’s quarters.” She followed him into a spacious kitchen with a charming hearth and live-edge harvest table, and what looked like brand-new appliances. Red followed her gaze. “I know. You’re probably wondering why I ordered pizza when I have a setup like this… Well, I need a break once in a while. I can’t cook gourmet meals every day of the week.”

Ronnie smiled cynically. This Viking friend of Casson’s had a joking way about him that she suspected he used to charm the ladies and maybe even distract them from his defects of character. Which are…? Her inner voice pressed her for an answer, but she brushed it away.

Ronnie watched as Red pulled off his sweater, revealing a plaid shirt that was now partially untucked. He casually pulled out the rest of the shirt and then went to the sink to wash his hands before getting out some plates and cutlery. He had already set down a bottle of wine and two glasses next to the pizza. “May I?” he said, lifting her glass.

She shook her head. “Just water, please.” She sat down at the table.

He complied and then poured himself a glass of wine. “Cheers. We made it home safe and sound.”

“To your home,” Ronnie said. “I’ll celebrate when I get to my place.”

“Speaking of which—” he stroked his chin thoughtfully “—you’re staying at Winter’s Haven?”

Ronnie had a drink of her water. “For a while,” she said casually. She averted her gaze and helped herself to a slice of pizza. She hoped he’d get the hint that she didn’t want to talk about her personal life. Instead, she wished she could just blurt out the questions that were piquing her curiosity about him. Like what did this guy do for a living? How did he know Casson? Was he from the area? Was he in a relationship? What was he doing in this Victorian mansion?

“I called Casson,” he told her before biting into his slice. “He was happy to know that you’re safe.”

Ronnie nodded and glanced at the leaded casement windows. They could hear the wind driving the freezing rain against the panes. It was a relief to be off the roads.

“And I’ll be happy when you forgive me.” He cocked his head at her.

Ronnie stopped midbite and shot him a bewildered look. “Forgive you?” She finished chewing. “Oh, for your part in my spinout? I suppose I have. More or less.”

“Aha! I knew it! Some lingering resentment.” His green eyes narrowed. “Have you no mercy, woman? I did rescue you from the snowy depths of despair and bring you to a safe haven.”

Ronnie shook her head in disbelief. Was this guy for real? Perhaps he was an actor for the local theater. He certainly had a flair for the dramatic… She blinked at him, not sure how to respond, and saw his lips twitching.

“Uh…well, I guess I could find it in my heart to forgive and move on,” she murmured, shifting her gaze to her plate.

“Great—I’ll be able to sleep now,” he said dryly, reaching for another slice of pizza. “Come on, eat up, Veronica or Ronnie.”

She pursed her lips. “Okay, you can choose one or the other. My name, that is,” she said pointedly. “Although I generally prefer Ronnie.”

“Ronnie it is, then.” He nodded, suppressing a smile. She seemed a little tense, but he couldn’t blame her, having been spun around in that little car. Thank goodness there hadn’t been any oncoming vehicles or sharp rock cuts, like on the highway. Maybe she needed something to relax her. “Since you’re not having wine, how about a cup of herbal tea?”

“Thanks, but I think I’ll just finish my water, and then, if you would be so kind as to show me to a room…” She pulled back her chair. “And hopefully not a haunted one…”

He chuckled. “The only spirits in this house are in my cabinet over there.” He watched her cradle her arms apprehensively. He couldn’t help thinking how young she looked, with her hair in a ponytail and wearing a plaid flannel shirt and jeans. He guessed her to be no more than twenty-seven or twenty-eight.

She looked at him intently. “Are you sure? A mansion like this must have quite a history. It must be close to a hundred years old.” She glanced upward to the decorative tin tile ceiling.

“A hundred and five to be exact. And very well maintained over the years. It’s an art designated home.”

Red sensed that Ronnie wanted to know more about the place, and maybe even about him. “I’ll take you for a tour tomorrow, if you’d like,” he told her. “I think I’d better get you to bed now.”

Her eyebrows lifted and he berated himself silently for his choice of words. The last thing he wanted was to make Ronnie uncomfortable. Or more uncomfortable than she already was. “Okay, Ronnie, let me just pull my big foot out of my mouth, and then I’ll take you up to Beauty’s suite. Unless—” he cocked his head “—you’d rather stick around and we can twiddle our thumbs by the fireplace.”

Her lips twitched. “Sorry. I’ve got some books I’d like to delve into.” She took a couple of steps toward the doorway and then stopped to look back at him. “You’ll have to twiddle all by yourself.”

Red laughed. “That’s no fun. But I will graciously accept your decision, Ronnie. Now let me lead you to a guest room.”

A couple of minutes later they were in the hall on the second level, with its original narrow-slat oak flooring and elegant gold-embossed wallpaper. They passed several open doors, revealing fully furnished rooms. He had been lucky to purchase the house with all the antiques and furniture. The elderly previous owner, whose great-grandparents had built the house, had decided to sell when he was