by Moira McTark
Her eyes bulged. “What are you going to tell me next, my dog is dead?”
“You have a dog?” He looked genuinely thrilled.
Please. She was so pissed, she almost enjoyed telling him that no, she didn’t. Knocking the towel back off her head, she fisted her hands at her hips. “Do we have any idea how long this storm is going to last?”
He shook his head and stepped forward. His gaze swept over her, his eyes darkening with a base need. She might have been interested in another go-round this morning, but that was when it seemed like an illicit adventure, a race against the clock before her co-workers showed up. Their impending arrival would have cut short a satisfying tryst, but in truth, she’d been banking on that interruption to save her from the threat of intimacy beyond a night of sex. A threat that felt more real as each second ticked past.
Exhaling slowly, she took a step back and crossed her arms against her breasts. Her body language should be perfectly clear. No entrance. “Get serious, Ryan. This is hardly the time. So what are they planning to do, come up tomorrow or whenever the storm clears? Can the rest of the team even fly out?”
“Okay, here’s the thing,” he started with an uneasy grin. “There’s no one else. It seems our dear boss had some funny notion that you and I needed this retreat more than any of the other teams. He planned to wait until we were here to drop the news on us.”
“What?” It sounded more like a screech than she’d intended. Her composure was failing fast. “Why in the…but…why…?”
“Take it easy, Beth. Settle down. Sure, it was lame, but really what’s the harm?” Desire infiltrated his tone, and he moved to stroke a knuckle down her cheek and neck. “After last night, I’m confident we can keep ourselves entertained.”
She sucked in her breath and took a step back. “There must be an office around here. I’m going to see what I can find. Maybe there’s a computer or a television or a satellite hookup.”
Ryan looked skeptical. “I know there are conference rooms, but not an office. Hey, let’s just relax and have some breakfast first. I’ve got coffee on. We’ll talk and…bond…and all that mushy stuff.” He reached for her hand, but she pulled back, her heart racing and throat tight.
“Don’t. Whatever happened last night, ended there. I’m serious, Ryan.”
His eyes narrowed, but it seemed he wasn’t ready to give up. “There’s more between us than you’re willing to admit. I’ve seen it, felt it. Last night was more than sex.”
This was the worst mistake she could have made. Ryan was incredible. He’d given her a night she’d never forget, made her feel more alive than she could remember, but it didn’t change the fact that he wasn’t someone she could count on. He wasn’t someone who would stay. Hell, he probably had his resume on half a dozen executive desks that very minute. There wasn’t room in her life for a relationship with Mr. Right, let alone one with Mr. Right Now.
“Ryan, your impeccable instinct must be on holiday, because you read last night all wrong. Clearly, it was a mistake.”
Ryan watched her through hooded eyes, a silent standoff between them. “What are you so afraid of?”
His godforsaken gut again. “I’m not afraid, so back off,” she snapped, fisting her hands at her sides.
She couldn’t risk a distraction like this. They’d been together one night and already he had her head spinning and her blood set to boil. How would she be able to focus on her goals with this kind of chaos in the background? She had a plan. Once she’d achieved the professional and financial security she strove for, then she would open her life to a man. She’d find a like-minded individual with a similar respect for commitment, and they would date and eventually marry. After two years, their foundation would be stable enough to have a child. One who would never have to live through the uncertainty and fear that had plagued her youth. Would never have to work two jobs to pay rent and put food on the table.
Her child would know she had protected its future from before it was even born. Her child would know safety and love. That was her ultimate goal, and she wouldn’t shortchange it for some feel-good fling that was bound to end in a careless dismissal. At this stage, she couldn’t afford to have her emotions and energy tied up in anything except work. If she was on track—and she thought she was—in two years’ time she would take the next step toward a family.
Ryan rustled his hair, confusion etched in every line of his face. “I don’t know why I thought this would be good for us. I must have been out of my mind to think you’d ever open up.”
She narrowed her eyes, her gaze zeroing in on him. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Ryan let out a stiff breath. “I suggested the retreat to Jared. Not just the two of us, but I’ll admit I wanted to get closer to you. I thought a seminar would be the ticket. You’re so into rules and winning, I figured you’d be knocking everyone else down to bond with me and increase our market potential, or whatever the bullshit slogan is for this one.”
“So I have you to thank? All this to get me into bed? Nice…” she hissed, burning at her own stupidity.
Ryan’s hands shot up. “No! That’s not what I meant—”
“For weeks, I’ve been asking whose brainchild this retreat was, and you haven’t said word one.”
“Beth, I wanted to get closer to you, but it wasn’t about some…conquest. I swear it. When you let your guard down, there’s something between us. I feel it.”
His eyes plead with her to believe him. As slick as he was, she could see what he was saying was true. But it didn’t matter.
“Fine, I believe you.” She felt something, too, but that wasn’t part of the plan, and, more than anything, she wanted to stop. It was hormones, pheromones, the devil’s attempt to distract her. It was nothing to pay attention to.
He took a step forward, relief flooding his face. She took a step back. “Don’t get any ideas. I’ve got news for you, Ryan. I spend enough of my time stuck in close quarters with you for business. I don’t need more.”
She didn’t want to hurt him, but if forcing their relationship back to an antagonistic repartee was the fastest departure from romance, then she would do it.
Ryan’s jaw ticked as he stared at her. “You’re impossible. I’m not usually off when it comes to gauging people, but, man, did I miss the mark on this one. I didn’t think you wanted to be alone. Thought maybe you were shy, maybe you needed someone to go the extra distance—to meet you more than halfway, but you’re emotionally closed off. Here I am, stuck in a blizzard with a bona fide ice queen. It’ll take weeks to chip the frost off me.”
Her temper flared. “Screw you, Ryan.” Who the hell did he think he was to presume he knew her so well? “I told you what I wanted last night, and you seemed to be on board. Now today, your fragile ego is about the most pathetic spectacle I’ve ever seen.”
“Let’s stop. Call this a mistake before we draw blood. I’m going to the rock wall to work it off.”
Bethany cringed and shook her head. “Of course you are.” Go do something risky while you’re angry and unfocused. Smart guy. Definitely the man I want on my side. In my bed. Leaving me when he’s too damn excited to use good sense and getting himself killed. Right, let’s go bond.
—
Bethany stalked around the lounge, moving from window to window like a caged animal. No one got under her skin like Ryan. She was furious. Scared? To hell with him. She could almost feel the heat of her anger steaming off her skin. Damn it, she should have laid into him about his expectations, his flaws. She should have told him exactly why he wasn’t someone she wanted to bond with, get to know better. Why the simmer in her belly every time she saw him was such a damn mistake. He was the ultimate risk taker, and she’d had more than enough experience with that kind of man. Losing that kind of man.
Damn it, it was hot. Wasn’t there any circulation through this place?
She should have told him off, but then she would have shared more of herself than she wante
d. She already did too much of that where he was concerned.
Would a thermostat be too much to ask for?
She tried to harness her frustration with a deep pull of air through her nose, wishing she could blow out the resentment in one giant breath. No good. She was over the top. The cabin seemed to close in on her. Claustrophobia had never been a problem for her in the past, but now no place inside was far enough away from Ryan, the memory of what he did to her the night before, and the potential of what he could do to her resistance if she gave him another chance.
There wouldn’t be another chance.
She had to get outside and cool off. Sure, it was a dozen degrees below freezing, but she had a sheen of sweat across her brow. She needed a minute to be alone, to get her emotions tamped down. As much as she wanted to scream in his face right now, Ryan was still the man she worked with every day.
A little fresh air would clear her head. She huffed to the couch, grabbed the throw from over the arm, and wrapped it around her shoulders. In the foyer coat closet there were several pairs of wool-lined boots and a few coats. The boots were a necessity, but the blanket would be enough around her shoulders since she’d only be out for a minute.
The boots nearly slipped off her feet at every step. She stomped out the door, cursing herself for not going the way of a cold shower the night before. Well, a cold shower instead of sex, rather than when the hot ran out while Ryan had her back pressed against the tile wall and her legs wrapped around his hips.
Pacing back and forth, she frothed over her own ineptitude, alternately fuming at Ryan for calling her out on her intimacy issues and raging at herself for being everything he accused her of.
Finally, she’d gotten enough anger worked out for the cold of the heavy, drifting snow to permeate her heated state. It was freezing, and she had half an inch of accumulation on her shoulders. She studied the vague outline of the trees, the mishmash of footprints from her pacing, and no cabin.
She turned around and realized that beyond about ten feet, she couldn’t see a thing, and she didn’t know which way she’d come. With all her stomping and turning and juvenile antics, she’d become completely disoriented. The tracks around her had softened in definition as the new layers of flakes settled over them. A stiff wind blew, pulling at the blanket wrapped around her, and a chill settled deep within her frame. She shivered and ran a few feet to her right. Still nothing but trees. The ground was all but unreadable. Suddenly, Ryan’s intuitive knack didn’t seem like such a bad thing to have.
No, screw that. She’d be methodical. She’d been outside for ten minutes. How hard could it be to reason her way back to the cabin?
Chapter Four
“Beth? Look, I’m sorry. I’ve been a jackass today…. Beth?” Ryan walked back through the open lounge. Empty. He frowned. She hadn’t been in the gym or her room. He needed to find her and apologize for pushing, for passing judgment on what was none of his business. He’d wanted her for so long, he thought it would be different between them. After last night, her rejection was a tough blow to his ego. Not an excuse for being an asshole, though. Shit, he had to make it right.
Raking his hair back with one hand, he walked through to the kitchen.
Where did he miss her?
Turning to check the bedrooms again, his gaze caught at the window. The trees in front of the house were barely visible. He stopped to stare at the grayish glow cast from the blowing storm and felt the stillness of the cabin around him.
There was no one else inside these walls.
He rushed through to the entranceway and pulled open the closet. One pair of boots was missing, but the two coats were still hung. The wind whistled against the wood frame, and a cold sweat washed over him. How long had he been stewing before he bucked up to come out and apologize? Ten, twenty minutes? Shit, she didn’t even have a coat.
Throwing his jacket around him, he pushed out the door before he’d even gotten it buttoned.
Visibility was worse than he’d thought, and the temperature had plummeted. Icy wind bit at his skin and ears as he pulled the fur-lined hood over his head and ran a quick circle around the lodge. There was no sign of her. Damn it, what was she thinking wandering off in weather like this? Where was her good sense and fucking reason now?
He checked the compass on his watch, moving quickly as he marked off paces and turned.
“Bethany!” he shouted. The cold burned his mouth and nose and made his eyes water. “Bethany!”
No answer but the wind’s howling gusts.
He turned in a circle, staying low to the ground as he searched for signs of her. Just at the edge of his vision there was a small indent. He moved closer and saw her tracks. She’d gotten this close to the lodge and doubled back, no doubt convinced she’d come the wrong way. He checked the compass and ran, following the nearly imperceptible footprints.
His chest tightened with each lungful of frozen air he gulped, and his raspy breath was all he heard above the crunch of crusted snow beneath his feet. Keeping count of his paces, he checked the compass again and called out, scanning the woods around him. A few feet further, and he came to an area where the tracks had been matted down but the direction was impossible to tell. She must have circled back to this spot several times, thinking if she continued to move out from it she would eventually find the path back to the cabin.
Which way had she gone? He whipped his head from side to side and called her again. If she was still on her feet, he had a chance of finding her. Balling his fists under his arms, he cursed, took a deep breath, and picked a direction. He prayed he guessed right. Without a coat, she wouldn’t have much time left.
—
Bethany was freezing to death. Her limbs were stiff, and her breath came in frantic pants as she staggered first one way then the other, desperation her only guide. Nothing stood out beyond the trees and the white space where ground blended seamlessly into sky. She tried to focus on her steps, but her balance was gone. And then she was down, hands buried in the snow, heart racing, sobs choking her throat. She struggled to get up, but the landscape sloped dizzily to the side, and her legs went out from beneath her.
Tears froze at the corners of her eyes as she stared at the falling snow, and the world spun around her in a sickening blur. What had she done?
As her senses dulled to the elements, her mind cleared, bringing one thought into focus. This was the end. The end of a meaningless life that had been less about living than she’d ever been willing to admit. Ryan had been her opportunity, her chance to change, to experience life instead of plan for it later. He was the only man who could break through her armor and make her feel. For months he’d made her angry, he’d made her laugh, made her try harder at everything. And last night, he’d made her want so badly she couldn’t deny herself a moment longer. No one affected her like he did. And that was the reason she pushed him away. Not because of his job history or the fact that he believed in his instinct. It was because he made her want to live life. That had terrified her, so she’d run.
But here, now, unable to push herself off the icy ground, running wasn’t an option. There was no more hiding from the truth, and finally she didn’t want to.
—
Ryan jogged forward another twenty feet before he stopped, catching movement off to the side, barely visible.
“Bethany!” he yelled, but got no response.
He dodged left, mentally noting his direction, and went another ten feet before he caught the movement again.
“Oh, God,” he wheezed as he sprinted toward the crumpled, snow-covered figure. “Bethany! Beth, baby, stand up. Stand up.” Slipping out of the jacket, he patted off the loose snow accumulated on her shoulders, chest and back and wrapped her in his coat so it overlapped across her chest.
“R-r-ryan,” was all she said before she fell against him.
“I’ve got you. Come on now.” He lifted her into his arms and, panic slicing through him, held her against him as he ran back through th
e woods in the direction of the lodge. “Hold on, Beth. We’re almost there. Stay with me now.”
With the jacket wrapped around her, he couldn’t be sure if she was still awake, but he had to keep moving to get her inside. He stomped over the ice and through the thicker snow where no path had been forged, counting out the paces until finally the cabin’s heavy log structure came into view.
He slammed through the front door and ran through the lodge, trailing clumps of snow behind him. With Bethany clutched in his arms, he didn’t stop praying until he reached his room. Setting his parcel down on the bed so that her back rested against the wall, his heart began to beat again when he realized she was still conscious and shivering within the tightly wrapped, down-filled jacket.
The room had its own thermostat, and he adjusted the temperature to blow in warmer heat then spun back to the bed.
“Goddamnit, Beth, what were you thinking going out like this?” He cursed the desperate edge to his voice and yanked open the jacket, taking a handful of the throw she’d wrapped around herself into his fist. It was pathetically thin but had probably saved her life. He rubbed the fabric between his fingers then took it off her, dropping it on the floor.
“We’ve got to get you heated up. Your clothes need to come off.” She didn’t resist, didn’t respond beyond the chatter of her teeth. Not that he would have stopped if she had. This was about her life now. Pulling the buttons and clasps of her clothing free, he stripped the cold, wet garments off her mottled skin and tossed them aside. When she was completely bare, he pulled the blankets and comforter over her and began to strip himself. “Beth, I’m getting in here with you. You’re hypothermic. The best way to warm you is—”
She nodded slightly. “Sk-k-kiiinnnn t-t-to sk-kinnn.”
Thank God, she was coherent. He smiled for her, though his gut was twisted with fear. He needed to look confident. “So this was your plan all along. Really, Beth, there are less risky ways to get me into bed.”
