Kane unpacked the boat and started searching for firewood, while Erin lit the rose-colored kerosene lamps and removed the dustcovers from the furniture. To air out the interior, she opened all the windows, heedless of the chill in the air, and felt the tickle of salt air burn in her lungs.

The cabin was rather barren, and what little furniture there was appeared threadbare. But she had to admit that once she had swept the dust from the floor, and the fire was lit, the warm scent of burning wood mingled with the fresh fragrance of the salt sea air, and the cabin seemed bearable, if not cheerfully inviting. Fortunately Kane had the foresight to stop off at a delicatessen in Seattle before picking up Erin, and he had purchased sandwiches and a bottle of wine. Erin rummaged in the old-fashioned kitchen and was able to find an unopened package of paper cups along with a tarnished but necessary corkscrew for the wine.

Pleased with her discoveries, she retraced her footsteps back into the living area. Brandishing the corkscrew dramatically in the air, she captured Kane’s attention. “Voilà!’ she announced theatrically, and placed the cups on the floor next to the couch.

Because of the chill of the evening sea breeze, Kane was closing the final window in an effort to retain the heat from the fireplace when Erin reentered the room. He snapped the window latch closed and turned to face Erin, who wondered aloud, “How in the world did you ever find this place?”

“It’s not exactly moonlight and roses, is it?” he asked, crossing the room to the fireplace. He squatted near the golden flames and warmed his palms against the heat that the fire offered.

“Who needs moonlight and roses?” she asked rhetorically, and shrugged.

“Don’t you?” Gray eyes searched her face as if she were a puzzle to him.

“I’m a little too much of a realist to think that the world revolves around silver moonlight, cut flowers and soft music,” she admitted drily.

“Are you?” A smile of disbelief tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“Does it matter?” she asked, and unwrapped the sandwiches. “Anyway, you’re avoiding my question—how did you come to find this private little hideaway?”

After dusting his hands on his jeans, Kane sat down next to her on the floor, allowing the slightly weathered couch to support his head and shoulders. His long legs stretched in front of him, and nearly reached the warm red coals of the fire. Erin silently offered him a sandwich which he gratefully accepted, and between bites he explained.

“As you already know, I’m looking for a permanent residence for Krista and myself in Seattle. I read the classified ads every day, hoping to find something suitable.” He paused to open the wine and poured the cool clear liquid into the paper cups. The light from the fire reflected and danced against the deep green bottle and in his clear gray eyes.

“Anyway—” he shrugged, as if it wasn’t all that important “—I came across an ad for this place. I’ve always had a fascination for the sea and the wilderness, not to mention rustic old cabins. And I thought it would be good for Krista. This place sounded perfect.”