This gig is just a precaution. There’s no credible threat against her. Just one over-protective brother asking for top cover. Why not act on the attraction pinging between us if tonight leads somewhere? We’re adults.
They’d part ways after New Year’s Eve, and no one would be the wiser. Right?
Wrong. Really wrong. But still. The cobalt darkening her blue eyes made not taking this charade to the next level an even more idiotic idea.
After all, he couldn’t back off now without sending her an even worse message. That he didn’t want her. A gargantuan lie.
But he’d better make damn sure she never learned the truth.
Reagan had thought Brent would rush through the drinks, go through the motions during their dinner. After all, what would they have in common other than being in the same place at the same time?
But he’d surprised her. They’d lingered over signature cocktails, chatting easily while taking their time to order appetizers and their main courses.
“Sounds like your sisters gave you a run for your money,” she said after he poured her another glass of wine.
“Twins. Double trouble as far as I’m concerned.”
“I bet my brother’s glad there aren’t two of me,” she said, laughing.
The corners next to Brent’s whiskey eyes crinkled. “Most likely he’d have at least a few gray hairs before turning thirty. As it is, my sisters each have two rugrats a piece and those kids are giving them serious payback. But family, taking care of each other, growing together is the fun part of life. I want that one day.”
His voice revealed so much genuine love, affection, that she had to suppress another long held ache. But she didn’t reveal the truth. No point. This was just a conversation, not a lifetime commitment.
“That’s great,” she said, knowing now, without a shadow of doubt, that she’d never take this dating or holiday fling beyond the time they had here.
“What about your brother? He settling down now?”
“Yeah,” she said easily, sipping her cabernet. “He’s going to become a father soon. That’ll keep him too occupied to continue all his long-distance hovering.” She’d finally checked in with him earlier that day and learned about her sister-in-law’s pregnancy.
Her throat closed. She swallowed hard, pushed down the old hurt with a stern reminder. This is a date. A simple dinner and drink getting-to-know-you evening didn’t have space for sad stories about losses too incomprehensible to share.
Brent reached across the table and covered her left hand with his, stroked his thumb pad over her knuckles “What are your plans for tomorrow?” he asked softly.
His featherlight caress spiraled heat beneath her skin, fuzzed her ability to think clearly. How long had she lived without a tender gesture, one that could lead to more or be just enough in that moment? She let the sensation, the connection ground her before picking up her fork to spear another bite of exquisitely roasted vegetables. “Sleeping in, then I set up a ski lesson on the bunny slope at noon,” she said after taking a bite. “Hopefully, I won’t make a total fool of myself, but if a tiny patch of ice can drop me on my ass, anything’s possible. How about you?”
“Bunny slope is a definite no, but I’ll be out there.” He draped one arm over the free chair next to him as he glanced outside. “Good powder out there now.”
Light snowflakes floated down to the hills, valley and mountains beyond, coating the surrounding trees with a blanket of glistening white. “Sounds like you’ve got experience.”
“Grew up on a military base near Bozeman.” His tilted his head to the side and a small smile played on his lips. “Spent most of my teen years on the slopes or in the lake during the summer.”
That thumb continued moving over her skin, tracing lazy circles, igniting all kinds of sparks. She locked eyes with his. Streaks of darker brown striated through the whiskey-colored irises. A long neglected feminine pride resurrected. He wanted her. Her!
Something else unfurled low, traveled into her breasts, making them full, heavy. “I don’t suppose you’d consider trading the black diamond trail for the bunny slope?” she asked. “You know. To make sure I don’t injure myself. After all, you’ve come to my rescue twice.” She lifted her last bite to her mouth, watched his eyes track their way to her lips and every hormone she possessed zinged all the way to her nipples, tightening them.
He grinned, continued the nerve tingling stroking over her skin, the movements branding her with heat. “You probably do need someone to protect your…” he turned her hand into his, linked fingers with hers. “Assets.”
He drawled out the last word, but there was nothing slow and easy in the promise gleaming in his answering gaze. Her pulse skittered wildly in her throat. So wildly she thought the accelerating beat could bounce the pendant resting there. “Yes. My assets definitely need someone to watch over them. I’d hate to show up on the live set with a broken bone. Wouldn’t be good.”
“Hmmm,” he said. “I agree. Wouldn’t be good at all. Plus, I’ve got a vested interest in keeping those bones and everything else about you intact.”
“Oh?” she asked, sinking deeper into the mesmerizing way he touched her, held her eyes locked with his. “Why?”
“I happen to like the way they’re packaged.”
“Well, is it a date then?”
“Oh, honey, it’s definitely a date.” He waved over the server, got their dinner plates cleared. “Got any room left room for dessert?”
“The flourless chocolate torte with the raspberry coulis is amazing,” their server suggested eagerly, offering a Reagan a menu with several selections.
Her heartbeat accelerated, her gaze still on Brent’s instead of focusing on the restaurant’s premiere offerings. Right now, the only dessert she was interested sat across from her with sexy, dangerously hot gleaming eyes and a mouth she wanted to nibble on. She blinked. Her brain had definitely snapped out of female hibernation and into full-on go for the entire package.
“You’re the expert,” Brent said. “What do you recommend?”
Quickly, she forced herself to look at the different items the restaurant offered while inhaling a deep breath in a last ditch attempt to control her reaction to him. The letters jumbled and her ability to concentrate evaporated, but she recalled her tour earlier that day along with the head chef’s suggestions for one of their shows the following week.
“We’ll go with the torte and I’d like to try the warm bread pudding with vanilla sauce,” she said decisively. After all, no matter how much she wanted the man that way she’d slow things down just a bit.
Sure. She hadn’t been a complete nun during the years she’d been widowed, but Reagan didn’t jump into the sack with just anyone no matter how much her hormones screamed for her to go, go, go for it. Still, she’d never had this intense a reaction to a man since she’d fallen for her high school sweetheart.
And after the dessert arrived, the succulent flavors dancing on her tongue couldn’t compete with her craving for a taste of Mr. Tall, Hot and Stetson.
Brent walked Reagan to her cabin door, the light snow falling around them, landing on her blonde hair, dusting it like spun sugar. “I had a good time tonight,” he said, meaning every word. Who cared what had brought them together? Maybe this could turn out way different than he’d expected when he’d accepted this off-the-grid assignment.
“Me, too.” She brought out her keycard, but didn’t turn away from him, clasping it in her gloved hand. “So tomorrow? Still game for skiing with a total beginner?”
“Absolutely.”
“Sooooo.” She held his gaze, her breath misting the air. “I should go in.”
“Yeah, wouldn’t want you to freeze.” He wanted to close the scant distance between them, hold her and brush the snowflakes from her cheeks, kiss the luscious pink lips frosted with the same soft snow. Then take the keycard and let them both inside to act on the promise sparking in her blue eyes throughout their date. And now. “B
ut I can think of a few ways to warm you up.”
“I bet you can, but…”
“Hey, no pressure.” He framed her cheeks and caressed her rosy cheeks with his thumbs. “We’ll take this slow and easy.” In the distance, a wolf howled, and the sound of tires crunching on the road behind them cut through the winter quiet night.
“Slow and easy sounds good,” she said. “But not too slow.” Reagan nibbled her lower lip, then stepped a smidge closer to him and moved her mouth over his briefly before breaking the contact.
“Good night, Brent.” She waved the keycard over the door lock and walked inside. Then, standing in the soft glow of the floor lamp by the window, she smiled shyly. “Pick me up at ten?”
The smile. God. How did a simple, shy smile make him want to protect her as a man, not a hired bodyguard? “Ten works,” he said. “See you tomorrow, Reagan. And be sure to lock up.”
“Those overprotective brother instincts kicking in?”
He laughed. “You asked me to watch over you, remember? Like I said, I’ve got a vested interested in protecting your assets.”
She leaned against the doorjamb, slightly closing the door, held his gaze. “Then I’ll lock up and double bolt it too.” Then she moved into the room and shut the door slowly.
Brent waited until he heard the locks click into place, then made his way down the stairs to his SUV, the taste of her lingering on his mouth, tingled on his lips. The light kiss, so sweet, tender even, tasted just like he’d expected. Vanilla, hints of raspberry and chocolate, mingling with her unique essence. Damn. Though everything in him had wanted to nudge her to the next level, the man he’d been before becoming a covert agent managed to rein him in.
After driving the short distance between their cabins and entering his, he tossed the keycard onto a side table and shrugged off his jacket. Still wearing his holster, he went to the kitchen, drew out a cold beer and popped the cap, took a healthy swallow.
He drank the brew slowly while checking his monitors, watching over her per his orders. But also out of ingrained years of service to his family, his mother and sisters. Watching her move into the bedroom adjacent to the main living area, he brought his fingers to his still tingling lips.
God. How long had it been since he’d just been with someone, gotten to truly know her? He’d forgotten the thrill of the chase, the drawn out seduction playing like a ballad instead of rushing headlong into adrenaline induced sex.
Reagan deserved the ballad, the slow dance.
And, maybe, he did too.
Chapter 4
“Okay, I think there’s a reason I never learned to ski,” Reagan said ruefully, her butt good and frozen after the umpteenth fall on the bunny slope. “Clearly, I lack the coordination to navigate ice and snow.” After two hours on the mountain, she’d been on the ground more than moving over the powder fresh snow that had fallen the night before.
The clouds had given way to a clear, blue sky. In the distance, far better skiers flew down the more challenging trails. Trails she knew Brent itched to go down, but true to his word, he’d stuck with her all morning.
“Here,” he said, grinning and holding out his hand. “Let me help you up.”
“Why?” She pouted a bit. “I’ll only fall again.”
“I’ll hold you steady until we get back down to the base.”
She adjusted her goggles. “Fine, but once we’re back, I want you to take advantage of this…” Reagan slid a ski over the snow. “Perfect powder. I’d feel awful if you didn’t get a few runs in. You came here to ski, not hang out on the bunny slope”
“Sure, but I happen to like the ski bunny I’m with right now.”
“I’m no ski bunny, more like a ski tortoise.” Everything about skiing made her feel awkward, all klutz and uncomfortable in the ski bib and pants. A sausage in winter wear. “Please do what you planned to do when you got here, Brent. I don’t want to ruin your vacation.”
He held out his hand again. “My plans changed after I met you,” he said. “Now come on. Let’s get off this mountain, head back to the ranch and warm up by the fire, grab a bite to eat.”
Her stomach grumbled in answer to his offer. “You’re sure?” She let him pull her up again and wobbled once more on her skis.
“Yes.” He brought her in front of his broad chest. “Make a V with your skis and take it slow. Don’t stiffen up. Relax.”
Relax? Kind of hard to do when now her knees wobbled for very different reasons than the slippery slope. “Okay,” she said, glancing down the small hill toward the base. “It’s not that far. I can make it there in one piece.” Even if she had to skid down on her poor, sore as hell ass.
Brent matched her pace, skiing easily nearby her. “Almost there,” he said, encouraging her.
A little girl whipped past her, edging around them with more expertise in her tiny body than Reagan could possibly hope to possess. Then another kid shot ahead as she struggled to remain upright.
“You’ve got this,” Brent said.
“Says the Black Diamond trail expert,” she muttered, but she doggedly persisted, half-skiing and bumbling to the bottom where another group of grade school children listen to their instructor.
She leaned on her poles, huffed a satisfied breath. “I did it.” Maybe not with grace. But still, another life goal to tick off her personal bucket list.
“You want to go again when you get a break from filming the show next week?” Brent used one of his poles to pop his boots free of his skis, then released hers.
“Uh, no.” She kneeled to pick up her skis at the same time he did. “I think my skiing days are over. I’m putting this in the one and done category along with the 5K race I ran in October.”
“Not into sports?” Brent asked when they both stood, holding their rentals.
She walked beside him, her heavy ski boots ridiculously clunky. “I worked the snack stand in high school, but no. Not so much.” Athleticism wasn’t her deal, though she had been in the stands cheering for the Magnolia Falls’ high school football team every Friday. Cheering for her brother and his friends, including Scott.
She mentally pocketed the memories, mementoes that brought a measure of happiness. Ones she cherished. But today? Today she wanted to make new memories, however fleeting.
With Brent.
They made their way back to the ski shop, returned their rentals and Brent took her by the hand, walking easily beside her toward the full parking lot. A silver SUV entered it, honking, hurtling toward them.
“Watch out.” Brent moved her between two parked vehicles, shielding her, barricading her body with his. “They’ve lost control of their car.”
She froze, temporarily rooted to the spot, unable to move. The hairs on the back of her neck raised and sweat beaded above her lip. Another memory flashed, and she tasted acid. Metal coated the back of her throat. The SUV skidded, fishtailed left and smashed into oversized red truck’s cargo bed, then shuddered to a stop.
Air bags deployed, filling the windshield but not before she caught sight of the driver and his passenger. “Oh my god,” she cried, struggling to get around Brent, who held her back with his outstretched arm. “Let me go. Please. They could be hurt.”
“They could’ve hit you,” he grunted, still barring her from rushing to them.
“Not on purpose. I know them.” She shoved around him and raced to the SUV. “Call for help.”
“Eric. Angela,” she called as she reached the SUV and pulled the driver’s side door handle. “Are you okay? Please tell me you’re okay.” She’d already lost someone she loved deeply to a horrific car crash. Her family was far flung all over the world. Her friends had become a second one to her.
No way would she lose them too. And no way would she let Brent Lancaster treat her like a hothouse flower when she’d become stronger than she’d ever thought possible in the aftermath of the accident that had stolen dreams she didn’t dare dream for again.
Brent rushed after Reagan,
determined to stop her in her tracks, but when she called her co-workers’ names, the adrenaline propelling him to her eased up. Groans, coughing and sputters filled the air.
A crowd began to gather, lolly gaggling at the scene with morbid curiosity. “Stand back,” he cautioned, then turned to a guy standing close by. “Call 911.”
The twenty-something skier nodded and brought out his mobile. “On it.”
“They’re okay,” Reagan said when he reached her. “Just shook up.”
Eric moaned. “Sorry. I hit a patch of ice, lost control.
Brent released the man’s seatbelt. “You’re lucky you didn’t do worse damage. Good thing you warned us with the horn.”
The airbags had done their job, protecting the passengers but now the white dust coated everything inside, including Eric and Angela who had already unbuckled her belt and opened her door. “We’re supposed to meet Owen and his girlfriend at the ski shop,” she said haltingly. “Need to text…” her voice stuttered to a stop as her eyes rolled back.
Shit. “Reagan. Stay with Eric.” He circled the rear end and got to Angela’s side in seconds. After checking her pulse, still strong, he inventoried the rest of her injuries. Bruises colored her forehead and right cheek. “She might be concussed. We’ll let the emergency crew handle moving her just in case there’s more going on internally.”
“God. This is all my fault,” Eric groaned. “What if she can’t direct tomorrow?”
“Cooking Thyme is the least of our concerns right now,” Reagan said, then shot Brent a worried look. “I have no idea how long it’ll take the local emergency services to get here.”
“Ski Patrol can fill the gap,” he assured her while pushing the deployed airbag out of Angela’s way. God. He hated seeing the haunted look in her eyes when only minutes ago they’d been sparkling, happy. “I’m sure she’s fine.”
“We won’t know that until she’s checked out thoroughly.” Reagan jerked out her cell phone, removed her gloves, then texted. “I’m giving her husband and Owen the heads up.”
Tempted By Her Rescuer: Brotherhood Protectors World Page 3
