by Liliana Hart
He’d seen the way the other young men in town had started to pant after her. The way she’d give them a friendly smile and never show interest in one particular man, only making them all want her more. Grant had never heard whispers about her from the town gossips, but he couldn’t imagine that she didn’t entertain her fair share of interested men. She had a body made for loving, and just the thought of her with some nameless, faceless man had his hands clenching in fists at his sides.
No, Annabeth Martin was still sowing wild oats and was a long way off from wanting the same things he did. Since there were no other women in town he had an interest in, he had no choice but to leave town. Not permanently, but just long enough to find the right woman and then move back home.
Grant rubbed a hand over his stomach at the thought of moving away, even for a short time. His business was doing well enough that he could open another office in one of the bigger cities. Surely he could fall in love in a few months, and then be back home before the end of summer. It’s not like leaving was permanent.
The thought of his mother finding out that he was about to approach marriage in such a cut and dried way made him grimace. He knew exactly what she’d say, because they’d had the talk before.
“Grant,” she’d said. “You can’t plan falling in love. It’ll happen when you least expect it. And of all my children, I’m not sure there’s anyone who needs to be knocked upside the head by Cupid more. Love isn’t something you can plan or map out like one of your building projects. I’m afraid you’re in for a rude awakening one day, my love.”
Which was all fine and good, but he didn’t want to wait for one day. He was ready for it to happen now. He was thirty years old, he was healthy and he was solvent. He was just tired of spending his nights alone. No one, not even his mother, could begrudge him a little happiness.
After a two-mile walk, his heart was pumping and his muscles were warm despite the cold. His breath puffed out in white clouds as he exited out the other side of the trees into a small clearing. The lake was frozen and the last rays of sunlight gleamed off the icy surface. It was less than a mile to his little cabin through the trees on the back side of the lake, and he debated whether or not he should head back to the MacKenzie house and bedlam, or crash on his couch with some bids he’d been working on for the next couple of hours.
All his plans changed when he heard the crack of ice that echoed like a gunshot through the air. He hadn’t noticed her when he’d glanced at the lake, the sun casting her in shadow. They locked eyes in shock and fear as another crack rent the air. Her face was pale and her flame colored hair seemed brighter than usual with the backdrop of white.
“Annabeth,” he said, running toward the edge of the lake, his heart in his throat. “Don’t move a muscle.”
She barely had time to scream before she fell through to the icy waters below.
Chapter 2
Annabeth Martin never thought of Christmas as anything more than another day of the week. Her parents had died in a car crash when she was thirteen the week before Christmas, and the only family she’d had left was a great aunt that made Ebenezer Scrooge look like a spendthrift.
So after her thirteenth year, Christmas had ceased to exist. There were no gifts, no decorations and no big family dinners. And when her aunt had died the month after she’d graduated from high school, she saw no reason to keep doing anything differently. Christmas only meant something to the people who had someone to share it with. She didn’t believe in it, and she certainly didn’t hold stock to the miracles people and songs were always going on about.
Her best friend, Darcy MacKenzie, always invited her over to celebrate the holidays with them, but Annabeth could never bring herself to say yes. Not when he would be there. Every time she saw Grant MacKenzie her tongue tied itself into knots and she became the shy, reserved girl she’d been all through junior high and high school. She suspected Darcy knew her feelings, but Darcy was a loyal friend and had never approached the subject.
It didn’t matter anyway. Grant had never once looked her direction, and it seemed more and more that lately he’d been bent on avoiding her. But it didn’t matter. Those were the foolish dreams of a girl. There was no way in hell that any of the MacKenzies were ready to settle down, especially since she’d heard Darcy and Cade and Declan all lamenting on tying themselves down that way. She was perfectly content with her life, and she was used to being alone. She certainly didn’t need Grant.
She’d made her mark in Surrender, and she was happy with her accomplishments. The little dress boutique she’d opened after college was doing well, and she’d saved money by converting the upstairs of the shop into an apartment. The women in Surrender were more than enough to keep her in business since they’d have to drive all the way into the city to get the latest styles if her shop wasn’t there, but she’d picked up a lot of business from the other small ranching towns that surrounded them too.
When she’d rolled out of bed that morning, the heat of Grant’s body still burned onto her skin and the climax that had torn through her dreams shaking her down to the core, there had been a moment of weakness inside of her that made her hope. She’d seen the last light of the fading stars and made her Christmas wish. She’d never asked for anything before. Never hoped for anything. Shouldn’t that make her wishes more important to whoever was listening?
But the stars had faded and reality had settled in. Anger at herself had her sticking to her normal routine and opening her shop, even though she hadn’t expected to get much business. But what the hell, Christmas Eve was just another day of the week.
It turned out opening the shop was a good idea. She made several last-minute sales to men who’d forgotten to get their wives something. Fortunately, she kept records of sizes and preferences every time a client bought something, so she was able to help them out. But when the customers had stopped coming in a little after noon, she’d finally given in and closed up shop. There was nowhere to go except upstairs to her apartment—the bars and restaurants were closed, and her friends were with their families.
Annabeth’s customers seemed to enjoy the trappings of Christmas, so she went through the motions and wished them all a happy holiday. She turned off the Christmas lights that decorated her front windows, blew out the candles, and turned off Nat King Cole in the middle of singing about chestnuts roasting on an open fire. But when she walked upstairs, her apartment was barren of any ornamentation. Not one Christmas item could be found in the space, and when she looked at it detachedly, it seemed cold and lonely and just a little bit sad. It was hard not think of the families who were even now getting children ready for Santa to come or preparing food or sweets for the big family dinners filled with laughter and love—which was exactly where Grant would be. She quashed down the yearning that filled her and tried to busy herself.
The book she’d chosen left her attention waning as she curled on the couch, and the wine she’d poured to soothe the jagged edges of disappointment tasted bitter on her tongue. It was then she thought of the lake that sat in the middle of MacKenzie land. She and Darcy had skated there often enough when they were children, and a little fresh air and exercise was probably exactly what she needed.
She wrapped up in her royal blue coat and the hot pink scarf that clashed with her hair, grabbed her skates, and drove her ten-year-old Honda down the rutted path to MacKenzie land. She parked at the edge of a white rail fence and walked the next mile with her skates thrown over her shoulder.
By the time she got to the lake, the clouds had started to gather and turn a smoky gray, but she estimated she had at least another hour before the snow would hit. Plenty of time. Then she could go home, drink some hot chocolate, and get some paperwork done before going to bed.
Gliding around the ice and feeling the wind against her face had done more for her spirit than anything she’d experienced in a while. She didn’t think of her loneliness or lack of someone who loved her, just the air as it stung her cheeks
and whipped her hair into tangles. The freedom of moving with reckless speed and taking in the quiet of her surroundings made a laugh bubble in her throat and echo off the trees. But it was quickly choked off as Grant MacKenzie walked out of the trees like some sort of apparition come to haunt her. Even in solitude, she couldn’t seem to get away from the powerful need she had for him.
She shook her head, sure that her mind was playing tricks on her and he’d disappear just as quickly as he’d come. The sun glinted off hair that was as dark and thick as mink. His scarf was wrapped loosely around his collar and his leather jacket was open, showing a hunter green sweater and a pair of worn jeans. He must have escaped in a hurry, she thought. The MacKenzies had a tendency to be a little overwhelming when they were all in the same room.
If she hadn’t been so caught up at the sight of him, she’d have been paying attention to where she was skating. The loud crack the ice made as she skated over a particularly weak section had her skidding to a stop, her muscles coiled in tension as she tried not to do anything more jarring than breathe.
She watched as his head jerked at the sound and their eyes met. His mossy green eyes widened in terror and he yelled out, “Annabeth, don’t move a muscle.”
Like she had any choice, she wanted to yell back but didn’t dare as he ran toward her at full speed. Another sharp crack followed the first, and as the floor gave way beneath her she had one final thought before terror set in. If she was going to die, she was glad it was Grant’s face that would be the last she’d see.
Frigid water covered her body, the temperature so cold it stole her breath and broke down her muscles so she couldn’t even fight her way back to the surface. She fought with every ounce of strength she possessed, but her clothes weighed her down and her limbs grew lethargic. Ice was already starting to form again where she’d broken through, and she knew if she took her eyes away from that one spot, the darkness of the lake would consume her and she’d never find her way out. She estimated she only had about thirty seconds left before she was dead from hypothermia anyway.
Annabeth gave one last push and tried to reach the surface, and as her fingers strained for purchase, she felt the tight grasp of a hand clasp around her arm. Grant. He’d come for her.
“Dammit, Annabeth, don’t you go to sleep on me. Keep your eyes open,” he yelled as he ran with her cradled in his arms. Her alabaster skin was already tinged blue and her lips were white. Frost gathered on her eyelashes and he knew they were racing against the clock.
It was less time to get to his house than it was back to the MacKenzie farmhouse where Thomas could treat her, so he made the choice and started running. They all knew how to treat hypothermia. It was ingrained in every child growing up in this territory, but he wasn’t sure he could save her. She hadn’t been under long before he’d gotten to her. Less than a minute, though it had certainly felt longer at the time.
His little white house came into view and he pushed the muscles in his legs to go faster, faster, until they burned with the burden he carried. He kicked open his front door, not having the hands or time to dig for his keys. He could patch it up after he took care of Annabeth. Damn fool woman, what the hell was she doing skating on that part of the ice? The thin ice signs were up for a reason.
Her eyes were closed by the time he got her inside. Grant carried her into the bathroom and turned on the tub as hot as they’d be able to stand, and then he stripped her efficiently down to the skin and followed suit, leaving his briefs on for both their sakes.
He hissed as he stepped into the tub and the hot water lapped at his ankles, but he gritted his teeth and sat down with her, so her body was completely pressed against him. He needed to get as much of his body heat into contact with her as possible, and skin to skin was the only way to do it.
Her head lolled against his shoulder and he pressed his finger to the sluggish pulse in her throat.
“Come on, baby. Let me hear those teeth chatter.”
The bathroom was so full of steam he could hardly see, and the hot water felt as if it were cooking his insides, but he put his discomfort aside as he held Annabeth close. He’d known her his whole life it seemed, and this was the first time he could remember holding her. He’d never dared before, afraid that if he touched her once he’d never be able to stop. Already, he knew the feel of her in his arms was going to ruin every plan he’d ever made.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” he said as he felt the shakes begin to overtake her body. “Open your eyes, Annabeth. Let me see those pretty blue eyes.”
Her lashes fluttered open and she looked at him with a glazed expression, still obviously in shock.
“Grant.” Her voice was hoarse and he had to strain to hear her. “Knew you’d save me. Love you,” she slurred before her eyes drifted shut again and she snuggled against him.
Grant froze at her words, sure he’d misheard them. And so what if he’d heard what he thought he had? Wasn’t it common for women to become attached to their rescuers? He brushed the hair back from her forehead and held her tighter as the shivers grew in their intensity. The hot water had done its job, but they weren’t out of the woods yet.
He pulled the plug and lifted her out of the tub, not bothering to dry either of them off. He pulled off his wet briefs and draped them over the side of the tub. The large armoire in his bedroom held extra quilts and blankets, and he grabbed a down comforter from the shelf.
Annabeth hardly weighed anything in his arms and he found he was reluctant to put her down as he turned back the covers on his large tester bed. He sure as hell hoped she wasn’t squeamish, because they were about to get as close as two people could possibly get without him being inside her.
Just the thought of feeling her wet heat around his cock had him hardening instantly. “Snap out of it MacKenzie. This isn’t the time.”
Grant laid out the down comforter and then put Annabeth’s quaking body on top of it.
“S…so ccccold,” she moaned.
“I know, sweetheart. It’ll be better soon.”
It was then he remembered the broken front door. He threw a blanket on top of her and ran into the living room. Snow flurries had snuck in through the crack and melted on his floor. He didn’t want to leave Annabeth longer than he had to, so he pushed one of the tables at the end of the couch in front of the door to hold it closed until he could do something more permanent. The splintered wood where the bolt had been thrown was letting in a thin stream of cold air, but there was nothing that could be done. He cranked the thermostat another couple of degrees and then went back into the bedroom to check on Annabeth.
He’d only been gone for a couple of minutes, but her shivers had increased to the point that the whole bed was shaking, and he could hear the chatter of teeth from the door. He quickly pulled a pair of clean underwear from the door—because there was no way he was going to be able to lay next to her without some kind of barrier between them—and he slipped into the bed behind her, turning her body so they fit together like spoons. Once he had them situated, he rolled them up in the down comforter like sausages and then pulled the bed covers on top of them.
They were completely cocooned from the outside world, the heat of their bodies a comfort as they shared each others warmth. Grant cursed himself every way he could think of as he realized what kind of torture he was in for the next few hours. Between bouts of bone shaking chills, her body relaxed against him, soft and pliant, every lush curve fitting against him like she was made just for his body. A fine sheen of sweat covered his brow as her backside rubbed against his groin. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this hard, but he knew he had to get his body under control before she got her senses back.
Grant took his lustful thoughts and the memory of Annabeth’s declaration of love and tucked them away in the back corner of his mind before he drifted off into a fitful sleep.
Chapter 3
Annabeth’s body finally reached the point where she couldn’t physically take an
ymore, and she fell into a deep sleep, tucked safely into Grant’s arms. When she finally stirred, the room was cast in complete darkness and Grant was breathing in a slow, even rhythm beside her.
She’d turned some time during the night so they lay facing each other, and her hand rested against the hard muscles of his chest, so she felt the steady beat of his heart beneath her fingers. Sweat slicked her skin and she really needed to make use of the bathroom. The only problem was, she had no idea how to untangle herself and escape without waking Grant.
Mortification didn’t even begin to describe what she was feeling. Not because she was finally in his arms where she only thought she’d ever be in her fantasies, but because one stupid slip of the tongue. She remembered the words of love spilling out of her mouth, as if she’d had as little control of her mouth as she had her shaking limbs. Maybe the best thing to do was plead ignorance and pretend it had never happened. Just because her body had been frozen through with cold didn’t mean the same had happened to her brain. She’d felt the way he’d stiffened as she’d said the words. His body language made it perfectly clear that he wasn’t ready for any type of permanent relationship.
That certainly didn’t mean her body was agreeing with her mind over the smartest course of action to take. His chest hair was soft against her breasts and their legs were entangled. His arms were wrapped around her tightly and his hand rested just on the curve of her bottom. There was no mistaking the fact that she wanted. She’d always wanted him. But it was only now she was beginning to understand that a physical relationship might be all he was willing to take.
