by Dara Girard
“I’m just being practical, Your Highness. Now come over here.”
She jerked her head back. “I’m not sleeping with you in order to keep warm.”
“I wasn’t asking you to. I have a blanket,” Ian said, pulling it from his case. “But it won’t stretch over there.”
“My goodness, do you have a tent in there as well?”
“You’ll find out later. Now come on.”
“I’m fine where I am.”
“You stubborn…” He took a deep breath. “Fine, you win.”
“What are you doing?” she demanded when he began to stand.
“If the mountain won’t move, I must bring myself to the mountain.” He settled down beside her and covered them both with the blanket. “Feel free to wrap your arms around me.”
“I’d rather hug a cactus.”
“I’m much softer.” He put her arm around his chest.
She yanked it away.
He put it back. “Stop being stubborn. I know that you’re freezing…and stop trying to squeeze me. It doesn’t hurt and I’m very ticklish.”
She released her grip then grumbled. “You’re enjoying this.”
“Yes, very much.” He paused. “Probably a little too much, but you’ll help me deal with that later.”
She knew what he meant and felt it too although she tried to keep still. She tried not to think of all that could happen under the blanket. What if his hand wandered over to her leg, or her thigh or even higher? She shifted, her thigh brushing his and sending a sensation that felt like a lightning bolt through her, making her jump.
“I’m not going to do anything,” he said.
More’s the pity. “I know.” She grabbed her granola bar, feeling foolish. Being with a man shouldn’t affect her this much. She’d been with several. Too bad this one smelled so good and felt so good and could probably turn this blanket into an electrical one with just a glance. She stole glances at his profile, trying to catch glimpses of the man underneath but failing. Like her he knew how to control his features to reveal only what he wanted to.
“Do you sometimes miss your old life?” she asked, desperate to speak so that her mind wouldn’t wander.
“Yes.”
“Do you hate your father for making you have to leave it?”
“No. He didn’t make me leave it. My heart had left it years before I stopped.”
“Why?”
“I was a different person.” Before she could ask him what he meant by that he said, “What did that woman say to you at the restaurant?”
“It doesn’t matter. Why?”
“Because I’m curious.”
“She said I killed her daughter, but why should you care?”
“I do care. Tremendously,” he said with quiet emphasis. “I just didn’t want to. Not that much. I’m sorry.” He took a deep breath. “You can’t let them get to you. I’ve tried to live my entire life without feeling. I’ve trained myself to be an observer, distant, objective. But when I saw your face that morning—you were cool as usual, but then you wanted to explain and I couldn’t let you. I couldn’t let you reveal yourself to me as though it was too much of a responsibility and I’d have to reveal myself to you. I couldn’t risk that, especially not in front of Josh. I wanted you to protect yourself. I handled it all wrong and I’m truly sorry.” He smiled ruefully. “And I can tell by the look on your face that you don’t believe a word I’ve said.”
“A woman has to be very careful who she chooses to trust.”
“Men have the same problem.”
She searched his face. “It’s just that you guard your emotions so well.”
“And you don’t?”
“I don’t know if this is real or another game.”
“What’s between us is real.” He kissed her, leaving no doubt of his desire for her. The full emotion of his kiss left her stunned for this was not a kiss of lust. The real Ian Cooper held her in his arms. There was no bid of dominance or surrender. They met as equals. Equals in wanting, in needing, in desire. Soon their passion was too much for the back seat to hold.
Ian pulled back and swore. “You’re right. This is a stupid car.”
“Probably for the best.”
“Maybe,” he said, slipping a hand under her sweater.
“Ow! Your hands are freezing.”
He drew back and rubbed his hands together. “Sorry.”
“I can warm them up faster.” She took his hands and placed them between her thighs, then squeezed them together. “Better?”
His eyes clung to hers. “No.” He reached for the front of her jeans.
“What are you doing?” she demanded when he drew down the zipper.
“Keeping my hands warm.” He pulled down her jeans then stroked the inside of her leg. “That’s better.” His voice deepened into huskiness. “Man, I want you.”
“You have me.” But even as she said the words she knew it wasn’t enough. Her body ached to be closer to him, to become one. “My hands are a little chilly too,” she said, slipping them under his shirt, the muscles of his chest constricted at her touch and she could feel the racing of his heart.
“Then I’d better warm you up.” He removed her panties.
She looked at him in surprise. “I thought we weren’t going to…”
“We’re not,” he said then slipped his fingers inside her, stirring up a spiral of ecstasy until she climaxed. He grinned with masculine pride from the joy on her face.
“Next time that will be me,” he promised.
“I thought it was you.”
“Let’s just say you’ll be getting more.”
She reached over and rested her hand on the hard bulge pressing against the front of his trousers. “Perhaps I should see what I’ll be getting.”
He gently seized her wrist and placed her hand back in her lap. “Honey, if you touch me like that, things could get out of hand. You’ll just have to imagine.”
She cocked her head to the side and raised a challenging brow. “I have a big imagination.”
“Then you won’t be disappointed.”
She shook her head in amazement. “Your humility is breathtaking.”
He bowed. “Thank you,” he said then stroked her thigh. “Wait, what’s this?”
He moved the blanket and looked down at a light slightly raised scar.
“Oh that, I usually put makeup on it. A tiger gave it to me.”
“A tiger?”
She told him about the incident and then about another in Florida where a jellyfish stung her and her foot swelled. She was about to tell him about a harrowing incident in Italy, but stopped when she noticed he was getting upset although he was trying to listen without judgment. “But I’m all right now,” she said quickly.
He gave a terse nod.
She wiggled back into her panties and jeans. “Thanks for listening.”
He nodded again.
She wrapped her arms around him and rested her head against his chest and after a few moments felt him relax. He held her snugly and she felt all fear dissipate. She could trust him. “Sometimes I do think about that woman.” She gripped his shirt, her voice low and tight. “When she accused me of killing her daughter for a second I thought she was right. I thought that I’d killed her. That I’d made her so unhappy that she didn’t want to live anymore and I wanted to die.”
“Don’t say that.”
“It feels good to say it because it’s true. There are moments when you have to face hard truths. I’m glad I’m doing something new and I’m going to succeed at it.”
“Yes.” He pressed her head to his chest and wrapped the blanket tighter around them. “Now go to sleep.”
She did. He watched morning come in its bright glory. Slowly touching the leaves and the mountains in the distance then stared straight ahead and swore. He didn’t know much, but he knew one thing. When Mariella woke up, she was going to kill him.
Chapter 13
He felt her awake
n and said, “Don’t get angry.”
“Why would I be angry?”
He nodded to the windshield. She looked and stared then burst into laughter.
He sent her an odd look. “You think this is funny?”
“Yes, I love to see what you consider a couple of miles up the road.”
The house stood only a few yards away. It was a massive stately mansion, covered in vine with two large columns at the entrance. On the roof you could see at least four chimneys while grandiose windows looked down on them. The shrubbery and plants lining the house reflected hours and hours of meticulous gardening.
“I’m glad you’re taking this so well,” Ian said.
She grinned. “You mean you’re lucky.”
He nodded. “Yes, that too.”
Mariella stepped out into the mud. It covered up to her ankles. She swore as she trudged through, then noticed a fox in the distance. It darted between the trees. “Oh look.” She pointed. “It’s beautiful.”
“It seems to be following us.”
“And having an easier time,” she said lifting her shoe out of the mud, making a sucking noise as she raised it.
They made their way to the front entrance. Then they saw a smaller residence to the side of the house in the distance. With no reply to their knocking at the house, Ian decided to see if anyone was in the cottage. No one answered. Ian walked back to the main house.
“You do realize that it’s freezing?” Mariella asked, somehow managing not to let her teeth chatter.
“At least put your suitcase down.”
“I’m not resting anything down in this mud.”
“Wait a minute.” Ian disappeared around the back of the house and came back holding a key.
“Don’t worry, I made arrangements with the owner that if no one was home, he told me where to find the key.” Ian opened the door then reached for the light switch. Nothing happened.
“It seems the power is out. Mariella, you stay here, I’ll get the rest of our things.”
Mariella started looking around. She was cold and miserable and was not in the mood to spend a day or worse yet another night freezing. Once Ian had finished bringing in all the luggage and photography equipment, he and Mariella went looking for anything to keep them warm.
In the kitchen, they found a note telling them where to find a kerosene heater and the fuel and also where canned food was stored, plus batteries, etc.
“They must regularly lose power,” Ian said.
Mariella rolled her eyes. “That’s a cheery thought.” In the pantry, they noticed a battery-powered radio and took it back with them to the main living room, to listen and find out what was going on with the weather. The news wasn’t good. Due to the unexpected storm, no flights would be going in or out of the airport. In addition, the announcer stated that there would be an early winter snowstorm coming later that night that would likely turn all the rain into dangerous ice.
“Where are you going?” Mariella asked when Ian headed toward the stairs.
“I’m going to call Josh. I’ll see if I can get a signal.”
“What am I supposed to do?”
“Make yourself useful.”
“Doing what?”
“I don’t know, start a fire or something.” He disappeared upstairs and managed to call his brother before the battery ran out on his cell phone.
“How are things?” Josh asked.
“Oh, it’s great. We spent the night in the car and now we are in a cold empty house and another storm might hit.”
“We’ll see when we can come in, but you might have to wait a week.”
“A week? Are you kidding?”
“No, they say when that area is corded off it takes time to clear the roads. Nothing is going to happen until everything is deemed safe. I’m sorry.”
“Me too.”
“I’m going to have nightmares of you alone with that woman.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“With Mariella?”
“Yes.”
“Duvall?”
“Yes,” he said, impatiently. “I’d better go and see how she’s doing.” He hung up then went into the living room where a roaring fire greeted him. He halted and stared amazed. “What is that?”
Mariella frowned. “What does it look like?”
“But how did it get there?”
“I made it. You told me to start a fire.”
“I know but—”
She folded her arms and sent him a smug look. “You didn’t think I could.”
“No, I didn’t think you would.”
“You don’t grow up in upstate New York and not know how to survive the winters there. And I’d never sit in a cold room just to spite you.”
He knelt in front of the fire and warmed his hands. “Good job.”
“Thanks. So what is the status?”
“It seems that we may be stuck here a couple of days.”
“Days?”
“Yes. So I guess we should settle in.”
They spent the rest of the day adjusting to their situation. The first place Ian raided was the kitchen and to his delight the refrigerator was stocked with prepared dishes including a potato salad, bacon/turkey sandwiches, and a fifteen-bean soup. Not wanting to bother heating up the soup, they decided on the salad and sandwiches.
Once they finished eating they agreed to stay in what appeared to be the family room. It was a smaller room than the formal living room and could be heated up quickly with the kerosene heater. Ian was careful to make sure it was positioned away from anything. The room was very comfortable with insulated curtains, thick carpeting and two sleep sofas. It appeared that the family was either large, or used to entertaining a number of guests. Mariella quickly selected the sofa close to the heater. She also found a divider that she borrowed from the living room, to provide some privacy and a place for her to hang up her clothing. She began pulling out the other bed.
“We’re not going to need two beds,” Ian said.
“I always keep my options open.”
“Well, I’m only giving you one.”
Mariella completed making the second bed knowing it best not to reply. Within several minutes the kerosene lamp heated the room. That evening, with the radio playing in the background, they had dinner. This time they had soup with several glasses of red wine, which had also been left for them. Ian had found a cast iron pot, which he used on the fireplace in the living room.
Once dinner was over Mariella sat on her bed and stared at the heater, bored. “What happens next?”
Ian lay back on his sofa bed. “Well, in five minutes I’m going to make love to you, you’re going to enjoy it, then I’ll go to bed.” He raised a mischievous brow. “You can decide what to do with yourself after that.”
Chapter 14
“Why five minutes?” Mariella asked, intrigued.
“Planning.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, I’m considering my options: the sofa, bed or floor.”
“That covers one minute.”
“I’ll have to wrap my friend.”
Mariella walked over and straddled him. “And then?”
“My approach.”
She unbuttoned his shirt. “And then?”
“I haven’t thought much further.”
“Good.” She kissed his throat.
“Now I remember.”
She stopped and looked at him.
“Nope, I’ve lost it again.”
“You can put your arms around me.”
“Not yet.”
She stared at him in disbelief. “You’re really going to make me wait?”
“I’m making us wait.”
“I might change my mind.”
“I’ll change it back for you.”
She moved away. “I don’t think you can.” She slid off the bed and returned to hers.
He clasped his hands behind his head and watched her. “Good. I love a challenge.”
She
turned her back to him and picked up a magazine from her suitcase. However, she couldn’t focus on it. She kept waiting for the puma to pounce. The three minutes that lapsed felt like years. Anticipation heightening with every passing second until she thought she couldn’t stand it. Then the three minutes were over. He didn’t move.
She wouldn’t tell him that the minutes had passed. She wouldn’t admit how he’d made her ache for his touch, how he’d left her wanting and waiting. Right now she could take a fire poker and stab him with it.
“Ready?” he asked, his voice warm against her ear.
She jumped. “Don’t do that.”
“I thought you’d like the element of surprise.” He drew her close and kissed away any protest. She didn’t offer him any. “Don’t be nervous.”
“I’m not.”
“Then why are you trembling?”
“Don’t confuse irritation for passion.”
“Why not?” he growled; then he nipped the tip of her ear with his teeth. “You enjoy being irritated with me.” He took down one bra strap. “I’m not making love to the ex-Desire model.” He removed the other strap. “Or the photographer.” He unlatched it. “I’m making love to a woman who is unmatched in courage.” He pressed his lips to her bare shoulder. “In talent.” He kissed the other shoulder. “And intelligence.” He kissed her mouth.
When he pulled away she said, “You forgot to say ‘in beauty.’”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Will you ever tell me I’m beautiful?”
“Does the sun need to be told that it’s hot?”
“But—”
He kissed her, but an uneasiness lingered inside her. He didn’t understand how men’s words of admiration thrilled her, aroused her and gave her power. But when he looked at her tenderly as though she were an ordinary woman—no, his woman—it made her feel vulnerable and possessed. That was exactly what he was doing when he soothed the ache between her legs by entering her. He claimed her as his own with every touch and caress. What scared her most was that she didn’t mind. She surrendered to it, then made a claim of her own until their lovemaking became primitive, hot and wild. When they were done, they collapsed, exhausted by their own raw emotions.
Ian rose early the next morning and went outside. He needed the crisp cold air to temper the mixture of emotions warring inside him. The storm had brought four inches of snow, blanketing the scene in white and it was beautiful. It had been a long time before he’d been able to see beauty like this and he could even admit that he was happy. Life was good. Almost perfect. He went to the pile of firewood at the side of the house, whistling. He stopped when he saw a spot of red marring the white surface. He followed the spots and found the mangled body of a fox.
