Physical descriptions are important with romantic heroes, and even at forty-two Cache is a fine looking man, but maybe leaner than most as he's recovering from a injury. He's six feet, lean muscle, very physical as his job requires him to be on the move at a moments notice. Another reason he is having difficulty dealing with his injury. He's weathered, tough, wiry, with a year-round tan, and steel gray eyes that see everything. I love a man who has seen a bit of life, and Cache is that man. He's traveled the world, cultured, educated, and can capture your soul through the lens of his camera. And that makes him extremely dangerous to my heroine.
Here is a stolen moment between Mel and Cache just after they arrived on The Edge. The setting is midnight, remember we have the midnight sun up in Alaska during the summers, so the lighting is twilight. They are outside on the deck, alone.
"Actually, I wouldn’t mind some company." He kicked out the chair next to him. "Have a seat."
Mel regarded the chair, which sat much too close to Cache. If she refused, it would be rude and would put them both on the wrong footing for the next two weeks. So she sat.
"This place is impressive." He took a sip from his cup, his lips pursed, and his eyes narrowed as the hot liquid pooled in his mouth. Dark stubble peppered his jaw and upper lip, looking like coarse sandpaper. He was lean as though he’d recently lost some weight. Not thin, but wiry. He had eyes the shade of steel, but they were anything but cold. In fact, this man put off his own kind of heat. Heat that would keep a woman warm all winter long.
"Trying to figure me out?" he murmured.
She wanted to look away but since she’d been caught staring didn’t dare. "I always try to understand my guests."
"So what’s the verdict?"
"Well." She perused him up and down, taking her time. He wasn’t overly tall, about six feet. Skin was weathered tough. He’d seen a bit of life. More than most. Age, she’d put him around his late thirties or early forties. Eyes, bright with intelligence, took in everything and cataloged it all. "I think the injury is new. You’re recuperating and not happy with the results. You don’t seem the type to sit and relax for long. I’m sure your idea of vacation isn’t a beach in the Keys but more like a hike in Nepal."
He gave her a crooked grin. "The last real vacation I had was Nepal."
"And I’m sure it was years ago." She smiled when he nodded. "You spend more time outdoors than in. You have no idea what the current popular television show is. You’re more comfortable in jeans and T-shirts than wearing a suit." She glanced at his hands. "No wife or current love."
"I could have a girlfriend back home."
"Nope. You’re not civilized enough. Too wild." Hell’s bells, had she just said wild?
He would’ve had to catch that. "There’s a look men have when they’ve been domesticated, and you don’t have it. So, I’m willing to bet no woman.”
“You’re very observant.”
“I’m an innkeeper. It’s my business to read people and know their needs before they do.”
He gazed at her from under his lids. “What is it you think I need?”
“A few pain killers or a stiff drink.”
He threw his head back and laughed. The sound was deep and jagged and did crazy things to her. Everything inside her suddenly sat up and paid attention.
I'd love to hear what you love about your favorite heroes. You are also welcome to ask anything you would like to know about Cache.