by Anne Conley
“I guess so,” she rasped out, suddenly at a loss for words. Of course it would be Jude’s cabin. The man whose phone number she had looked at once a day—at least—since he’d put it in her phone. The man whose fiery kisses were still on her tongue. The man she kept sketching instead of what she was supposed to be doing.
“Get away from him and meet me in the hallway by the restrooms. I need to talk to you.” He whispered the words, and she barely heard him but found herself nodding. Drake was pissing her off, and she was in an awkward position with his hands all over her like they were a couple, but surely, he would stop for her to use the bathroom. “Ten minutes.”
He straightened, released her hand, flashed a mock salute to Drake, and walked off. She followed him with her eyes, wishing his jacket wasn’t so long to cover his ass. Annette was positive it was a spectacular view.
Drake had ignored Jude almost as soon as he’d gotten there, so he barely noticed when he left. She wondered a bit at their relationship but had pegged Drake as a social climber. His treatment of Jude was tacky in her opinion. She was still enough out of her element that she just let him do his thing a few more minutes before she whispered to the woman next to her.
“Where’s the ladies room?”
The woman, an effervescent redhead in a skin-tight blue dress, nodded enthusiastically at her question.
“I’ll show you. I need to powder my nose.” She grabbed Annette’s hand and led her across the dance floor, wove through tables, and came out near a hallway Annette hadn’t noticed. “I’m Katie. You’re here with Drake?”
The woman pushed open the door and gestured for Annette to go first. “Uh, yeah, I guess. But we’re not together, even though he’s pawing me like we are.” She felt the need to get that out there and didn’t even care who she told anymore. “This is supposed to be a professional engagement.”
Katie nodded as she turned on the sink faucet and washed her hands. “Stick to your guns. He’s wily, but it looks like you’ve got his number. If I can, I’ll introduce you to Everly tonight. She’s better at this than Drake and won’t try to get into your pants.”
“Does she own a gallery too?”
Katie nodded. “Yeah. There are three of them, but those two are really competitive. He slept with her in high school. Then they got together again in college or something. They both came back with degrees in something fancy and opened up competing galleries and have been at each other’s throats ever since.” She shrugged as she got some paper towels. Annette used the sink next.
She didn’t have to pee, but being away from people was what she needed. Getting dirt on Drake was good too—having another woman confirm her suspicions even better.
“By the way, that is a fabulous dress. Where did you get it?” Katie was fingering the fabric at Annette’s knee, where the silky material draped out in a flair.
“Um, don’t tell anybody, but I totally got it at a thrift store back home. I love it though. I’m always dying for an excuse to wear it.” This small talk felt good; she didn’t mind it at all. She wasn’t talking about the weather, Georgia O’Keeffe’s vulva, or local politics she knew nothing about.
She was making a friend.
“I own Hidden Intimacies, the lingerie shop downtown. You should stop in sometime. I think I’ve seen you on the square? I’m right across from you.”
Annette had seen the store and couldn’t see herself going in there. “I don’t really have a reason to wear fancy lingerie. Nobody to see it.” She shrugged dismissively.
“Girl, do you look in mirrors? You see it. That’s all that matters. A great set of lingerie can do wonders for the psyche. Better than therapy. You don’t have to show a man that shit. That’s for you,” Katie insisted.
Annette had to laugh. Katie was clearly passionate about her underwear. “Okay. I’ll come in some day.”
Katie left with a wave and a good luck and pushed the door open with her backside. Annette saw Jude leaning against the wall opposite the restroom before the door shut behind her.
He was waiting for her. She sighed and looked in the mirror. Pinching her cheeks and smashing her lips together to bring some color to her face, she vowed to get through this night with her priorities intact.
She opened the door and left the sanctuary, trying not to think she was about to get eaten by the devil.
Jude straightened from his casual lean against the wall, his hat still under his crooked elbow.
“Thanks for meeting me here.”
She looked around to find the hallway deserted, and a tremor of excitement lit her insides. Still, the banquet was a mere few yards away, and anybody could walk by any time. She wasn’t sure if that excited her more or dampened her erotic thoughts, but both sort of angered her.
Annette shouldn’t be thinking about that at all.
But she couldn’t help it. Jude was dark. With his black hair, scraggly, black eyebrows, and a dangerous glint to his eyes, their strange amber color was the lightest thing about him. He was a Grecian god carved from marble, with olive-toned skin and sharp, chiseled features.
And she was toast.
He advanced on her, crossing the hallway in sure strides, caging her between arms on either side of her face as he leaned on the wall behind her.
“If you’re here to warn me off Drake, don’t bother. I can tell what he’s up to.” I just haven’t figured out how to get out of it.
“If you want the cabin to work, it’s yours.” The timbre of his voice sent a delicious shudder racing through her, and she ignored it even as she relished it.
“I’m not trading one devil for another.” If Drake was spending all this money on the cabin to get laid, what would Jude give it to her for? She didn’t want to know.
A bark of laughter met her ears, and Annette was captivated by the image of his throat as his head fell back. It was long, wide, and exuded strength. A vein she suddenly longed to trace with her tongue popped out on the side, and his Adam’s apple bobbed with the sound of his deep laughter.
“Pretty accurate description, I’ll grant you that.” His eyes back on her, she felt the heat of his gaze as it seared through her defenses.
“I know I’m a conquest for Drake. No illusions here.” She was trying to get the conversation back on track. “We’re not sleeping together. I’ve made that clear.”
He gritted his teeth, his jaw clenching with the movement, but he didn’t say anything. He just stared at her, his arms still bracketing her in, trapping her but not touching her.
Annette jutted her chin up in a defiant gesture, she hoped.
But he smelled so damn good. She found herself wanting to rub all over him, to cover herself with his scent so she could go back to Drake smelling like Jude.
She shook her head to clear that thought from her brain.
And then Jude was back. He’d dipped his head down to her face. Right there. Not to be ignored.
Dammit.
“You never called me.”
“I’m not here for that.”
“You told me that already.”
Stiffening her spine, she replied, “I meant it.”
His lips brushed hers as if she hadn’t spoken, and like when he kissed her hand, heat flared inside Annette. As his mouth moved over hers, she melted into his arms which were suddenly around her. He gripped her waist tightly, just under her boobs, his thumbs dangerously close to places she didn’t wish to explore.
Yet one thumb dared.
It stroked across her nipple, and something dangerous sparked her core. It was just a flash and then gone, but she gasped in spite of herself.
He took advantage, his tongue marauding her mouth as if a conquest. Like the kiss a week ago, she dueled with his tongue, exploring and daring to challenge. His slippery warmth tasted of something strong, like bo
urbon, and she never wanted this to stop. Annette was suddenly envisioning holding hands with this guy and reading the paper, their seeming compatibility screaming for more than just a kiss, and the jolt of reality hit her. Drake, conquests … She. Was. Not. Here. For. This.
“You may not be here for this, but this is here for you.” Jude’s lazy voice seeped into her consciousness, and she idly wondered if she’d spoken aloud or if he was continuing their previous conversation. Before she could retort, he winked at her, bent to scoop up his hat off the floor where it had fallen, and walked down the hallway, whistling a jaunty toon.
Dammit.
Chapter Seven
After a couple of weeks of late nights painting and early mornings on the square, Annette was riding up the mountain in Drake’s fancy, leather-seated Hummer, gazing out the window at the scenery with nothing short of wonder. The stunning lines in the landscape were beautiful, with rolling, snow-covered land swathed in sharp, edgy pine trees, softened by the cedars and what looked like juniper bushes. It was a dreamscape, and her chest felt lighter just for looking at it. She only hoped she could capture the feeling on her canvases.
Her fingers itched to get started.
“You’re so right,” she gushed to Drake. “This is absolutely inspiring. I can’t wait to get started on things.”
Drake’s hand settled on her thigh as he leered at her and gave her a wide smile with his perfectly plump mouth. “I’m certainly inspired.”
Jude’s words from the auction came back at her, rattling around in her head. Annette had dismissed thoughts of Jude after the banquet because Drake had been behaving since then. But now, as he started rubbing possessive circles on her jeans, the conversation with Jude came back.
He’s using you for sex and a commission. Conquests.
Was it jealousy that spurred those words? Did Jude and Drake have some sort of history? Annette knew she was attractive enough but had never been the object of such heated stares from not one, but two gorgeous men.
Although, the way Drake looked at her now wasn’t super attractive.
“You got this cabin so I could paint, right?”
Drake nodded. “Yeah, I figured you could paint in the morning, and we could spend the evenings together. You know, having a little fun?” He waggled his eyebrows at her, and she could see how the charm probably worked.
“But you commissioned so many pieces for the gallery showing. I’ll really need to work the entire time I’m there to get them all done.” She was desperate to make him understand. Her career, her future, the risks she’d taken to come here, they were all worth more than a couple of rolls in the bed with Drake. Hot or not, she saw the trap for what it was. He’d hinted at it before but hadn’t been so blatant.
“You’ll have time to work on your art. I promise.” His hand rose higher on her leg the higher they drove up the mountain. “But we’ll have some together time before your show.” His emphasis on the word “show” wasn’t lost on her. He would pull it if she denied him. But her dream of becoming a real artist didn’t include sleeping around to do it.
She clapped her hand over his before he could grab anything. “Drake, honestly, I’m not coming up here to have sex with you.” She took a deep breath, even as his hand tightened in hers. Didn’t he need that to drive? “That’s not why I’m here. You said this was an art retreat. If you want twenty canvases done by the show, I’ve got to work the entire time. Seriously.”
He gritted his teeth. She could see his jaw working, clenching, squaring off. “Sure. Whatever.” Thankfully, he removed his hand and put it on the steering wheel, but it whitened with the grip, and all the drumming and tapping of excitement he’d had when they started was gone.
He didn’t say another word the rest of the drive.
Annette looked at the mountainside with wonder. When Drake had dropped her off, he promised her five days uninterrupted to work, but his unspoken words sort of scared her. At the end of the five days, he would come back “to check on things.” It wasn’t a legitimate fear, though, but he’d promised her exactly what Jude had warned her about.
It didn’t sit well. She’d have to turn him down again and was afraid she’d be called a tease. Why she was scared of that, she didn’t know. She’d been more than up front with Drake about her intentions. She hadn’t asked for the cabin on the mountain to work; she’d been doing just fine on her sleepless nights.
It was generous, though, and she’d be expected to repay the favor. Annette would have to figure out how to get out of that part later.
She walked through the cabin, taking stock. The first thing she noticed was it was rustic, and had one room, an open plan divided down the middle. An enormous brass bed was in the back corner, divided by a half wall that separated the bed/kitchen area from the living room. Next to the bed, along the back wall, was a row of cabinets and countertops broken only by a sink for washing up and two large windows that exposed a breathtaking view. A butcher block island and a refrigerator, along with a coffee pot, seemed almost like decorations instead of necessities in the spartan room.
On the other side of the half wall was the living area with a couch, a couple of old recliners that looked more like homes to creatures than comfortable seating areas, and giant wood stove. Annette looked closer and noticed it had removable burners on top, which meant this was her stove for the week. She’d only cooked on a wood-burning stove once, at Luke’s deer camp, with horrific results. Oh well. She shrugged to herself. Fine dining was not a priority at the moment. She’d gotten Drake to leave, she just needed to get the cabin set up and she could get to work.
Aside from the recliners, the furnishings were old yet warm. Patchwork quilts covered the bed, there was an afghan the back of the sofa, and a closet held more blankets, towels, a stack of board games, cold weather gear, and a locked box. The bathroom was utilitarian yet had everything she would need, including running water.
It was cold, so she went outside to gather wood for a fire in the stove.
Huh.
There wasn’t much. Scratch that. There was a ton of huge logs she had no hope of picking up and carrying inside, despite the fact they wouldn’t fit inside the barrel-bellied stove anyway.
She stifled the silent alarm that rose inside her as she looked at the sky. It was clear-blue with a few fluffy clouds. It looked gorgeous, but she didn’t know much about mountain weather. She’d moved here from the piney woods of east Texas. It rarely snowed there, much less was a way of life.
November on a mountain was a different story. She went back inside and looked in the wood stove, pleased to see there was a small fire already stacked. But how long would it last with no wood?
With a heavy sigh, she went over to the bed—where Drake had left her things before driving back down the mountain—and grabbed another sweater to put on. She would save the wood until she was nearly frozen, then start breaking up furniture, she supposed.
Annette opened the refrigerator to find a bottle of ketchup and a jar of mustard, and two cans of Bud Light.
The pantry was much the same way, but the spice cabinet was full. A snort left her lips. She could use it to flavor the mustard.
Was she supposed to freaking starve out here all alone in addition to freezing to death?
“Thanks a lot, Drake,” she muttered to herself while she stalked to her cell phone to call him.
No service.
Alarm bells were clanging in her head. She was stranded here with no food, no heat, and no cell phone.
She was suddenly freezing, starving, and had an inane desire to call her mother.
Annette began opening doors, a desire to take stock of what she did have overriding everything else. There were plenty of blankets, a few old rickety bedside tables she could burn, and the oldest rocking chair in existence on the porch. That might keep her warm for three days
. She looked down at herself. She most likely had enough fat stored in her ass and thighs to make it three days on mustard and ketchup.
She laughed to herself. This was ridiculous. Maybe it was a joke? Maybe Drake would show up any minute laughing at her. Maybe there was a hidden camera, and he was watching from some remote location to see how she reacted to no food.
Annette set up her easel, trying to take her mind off the situation. There wasn’t anything she could do at this point. Even growing up in east Texas, she’d never been much of a hunter. She didn’t know the first thing about cleaning an animal, even if she did kill one to eat. She had no idea what stuff was edible out here. Knowing her, she’d eat the poisoned berries and die all alone.
No. Things weren’t that desperate. She’d just make due until Friday, when Drake came out here.
Besides, it was a lovely cabin. She distracted herself with the colorful furnishings, opening curtains on the massive picture windows that lined the front wall to let in the sunlight, and putting on yet another sweater.
She’d probably have to sleep in every stitch of clothing she’d brought.
She went back outside to try to gather enough wood for heat. There should be some limbs down somewhere. The cabin was surrounded by woods after all.
Gathering wood helped keep her warm too. Although, if she spent the whole time gathering wood, she wouldn’t be able to paint. That sort of defeated the purposed of Drake not being here.
Asshole.
If he’d ever had a chance with her, he’d lost it now. Who the hell brought a woman to a remote cabin and didn’t leave her a means to survive?
Annette clung to the anger because, if she didn’t, she’d completely panic and freak out.
As she piled wood up next to the cabin, she cursed Drake and his expectations of her.
