She stopped. It was unbearable to imagine what it would have been like to be swallowed up by all of that snow, packed in so tightly it would be impossible to open the car door, or even escape through a window….
“Don’t think about it.” Patrick reached over and touched her hand. “We’re safe. That’s all that counts.”
He was right, but she still couldn’t stop shaking. She’d seen signs on the highway that said Don’t Stop, Avalanche Area. But she’d figured they were like those warnings to watch out for deer that were never there.
“Don’t think about what might have happened,” Patrick cautioned again. “That’s a game that will paralyze you with fear if you play it too often. What we need is a backup plan. Do you recall seeing any motels along this road?”
“There wasn’t much after Field. Wait a minute.” There had been something…“I did notice a sign to Emerald Lake Lodge. Let me check the GPS, see if it’s working.” She held it close to the window and was grateful when it was able to pick up a satellite reading.
“Emerald Lake Lodge is twenty minutes away,” she said.
“Let’s do it.”
PATRICK WASN’T EXPECTING much on this godforsaken stretch of highway, but Emerald Lake Lodge turned out to be a hidden treasure. They had to leave the car in a parking lot, then were ferried by a small bus across a tiny bridge to a cluster of buildings including a rustic lodge and about a dozen smaller chalets. The rooflines of the lodge were outlined in sparkling lights and in the air was the welcoming scent of burning hickory.
“It appears we’ve lucked out,” Nadine commented.
“Treat yourself to dinner in the main dining room and you’ll really feel pampered,” their driver told them. He stopped by the side of the lodge. “Once you’ve checked into your rooms, we’ll bring up your luggage. It’ll probably be waiting by the time you arrive.”
A warm fire greeted them in the main lobby, along with the aroma of gourmet food from the adjoining dining area. On the other side of the lobby was a casual lounge for drinks or lighter fare. Directly ahead was a curving staircase leading to unknown areas.
One of two young women behind a counter waved at them to step forward.
“We need two rooms,” Patrick explained. “We were stopped by an avalanche on the highway about twenty minutes west from here.”
The young woman nodded at her coworker. “Denise, you’d better call Avalanche Control and report that.”
Denise nodded and picked up the phone.
“That must have given you a scare.”
Patrick noticed the name tag discreetly pinned to her lapel. “It sure did, Andie. But fortunately we weren’t injured. I hope no one else was, either. Traffic was pretty light.”
“It’s low season, which is lucky for you, as we have several vacancies. You said you wanted two rooms? Would you like them side by side?”
Patrick glanced at Nadine, who nodded. “That sounds fine.”
He caught her eye, and she smiled, and suddenly he was wishing they were here under an entirely different scenario. Because the truth was, he didn’t want separate rooms, at all.
Nadine turned away, seemingly fascinated by a flower arrangement on the counter. But he could see the pink rising on her cheeks.
Andie pulled out a map of the property and showed them how to reach their chalet. “You’re staying right across from the outdoor hot tub. It’s a favorite among our guests. And would you like me to make you a reservation for dinner?”
Again Patrick checked with Nadine and when she nodded, he said, “Sure, that would be great.” He took the keys and passed one to her. She accepted it, careful not to meet his gaze this time.
They went outside, boots crunching on snow, breath forming clouds of crystals that hung in the still air. The chalets were connected by paths wide enough to allow for the passage of the golf-cart-size vehicles that were used by the staff to transport luggage and supplies.
“I’m glad they don’t allow cars in here,” Nadine said. “This place has a lovely, European atmosphere don’t you think? It’s like a charming Swiss village.”
“Have you been to Switzerland?” She’d asked so many questions about his travels that he’d assumed she hadn’t seen much of the world.
She seemed to lose her footing, and he took her arm, amazed at how delicate she was, how much he liked holding her.
“Sorry,” she said. “I slipped on a patch of ice. Oh, look. That must be the hot tub.” She pointed to an area to their right. He couldn’t see much, other than a large cloud of steam. But he could hear the quiet murmur of conversation, then a woman’s laugh.
Their chalets were to the left. Patrick waited until Nadine was safely inside her room before he unlocked his own. The room was decorated in mountain lodge style, with furniture fashioned from logs and two willow chairs nestled in front of a wood-burning fireplace.
The furniture looked rustic, but when he tested the bed, it was extremely comfortable, with soft white linens and a feather duvet.
He’d sleep well here tonight. As long as he could forget that tomorrow he might meet his son.
As long as he could stop thinking about the woman who would be sleeping next door.
NADINE WORE HER DRESS to dinner. She covered her bare shoulders with one of the scarves she’d brought with her. It was black with silver and gold threads that caught the light from the candles and made it dance.
Patrick had ordered wine. And they’d both decided to try the evening special, which was venison served with a cranberry hazelnut risotto.
Nadine smoothed the white linen tablecloth with her hand. “I can’t believe a place like this can exist here…in the middle of nowhere.”
“Apparently the lake is that way.” Patrick indicated a direction beyond the lodge. “It’s reputed to be one of the most beautiful lakes in the world.”
“Maybe you’ll have to write about this place in one of your travel books.”
He nodded. “Between heli-skiing, white-water rafting and mountain climbing, I think I’m going to find enough to interest my usual audience.”
She leaned closer to him. “Do you try all the activities you write about in your books?”
“Yes. All of them.” His gaze seemed to dip a little. From her face to the low neckline of her dress.
Instinctively she pulled her scarf tight to her body, even as an unaccustomed heat washed over her.
There’d been men in her past. Lots of duty dates arranged by her parents and a few romantic relationships with boys from school and university. But there was no one from her past who could compare to Patrick O’Neil.
At some point on this trip…she couldn’t quite pinpoint the exact moment…she had started developing an attraction to this man. More than attraction, actually, because she’d felt that from their first meeting.
No, this was more like a magnetic pull. And she was almost positive the feeling was mutual.
She wasn’t too sure what a worldly, action-oriented guy like Patrick would see in a city girl like her, but she found him completely fascinating. She loved the fact that nothing—absolutely nothing—fazed him. He didn’t seem to know the meaning of the word fear.
Not that she would want to try half the things he had tried—definitely not hang gliding or parachuting from a plane—but she was terribly impressed that he had.
He was still looking at her, she noticed. In fact, he’d hardly taken his eyes off her all night. She felt that wash of heat again, and found herself thinking about how deliciously quiet and private their rooms were, tucked away from the lodge, next to the lake.
He reached for one of her hands. “I hope I’m not out of line in asking this, but…do you ever date your clients?”
She felt a rush of pleasure and an instinctive urge to say yes, then good sense kicked in. “No, I don’t. At least—I never have.” What sort of answer was that? She’d never dated a client because, until now, she’d never had one.
Suddenly she felt as if she was choki
ng on all the lies she’d told in the past few days. What would Patrick say if she told him the truth now? He would understand…wouldn’t he?
Was she crazy? Of course, he wouldn’t. His stakes in this case couldn’t be higher. He was searching for his son. He’d be angry and upset…and he’d probably insist they head back to New York immediately.
And wouldn’t that be a shame? They were so close to Stephen, she could just sense it. Later, she would tell him everything.
“Not getting involved with clients sounds like a smart rule.” Patrick caressed her fingers as he slowly let her hand slip away from his. “But, I’ve always been a fan of breaking rules.”
His gaze traveled down her neck and she honestly felt as if he was touching her there. She wished he would. Heavens. If he could make her yearn for him with just a look, what would his caresses be like?
She lowered her gaze to her cutlery. “Maybe once this case is over. After we’ve found your son. Maybe then.”
Provided he was still speaking to her, once she told him who she really was.
He smiled with grace and resignation. “So be it. I respect your integrity.” He picked up the dessert menu. “What do you say to chocolate raspberry torte?”
It sounded good to Nadine. But not as good as that other thing he had offered.
AFTER DINNER, A LATE NIGHT drink in the lounge, then a game of pool in the second-floor games room, Patrick walked Nadine to her room, unlocking her door and handing her the key. He was determined to be a perfect gentleman, even though his desire for her had grown stronger with each passing minute of their evening together.
He had loved watching her eat. Her manners were absolutely impeccable, but she savored her food with such gusto. And she was a crackerjack with a pool cue. Another unexpected skill from a woman who was in the process of stealing his heart.
“Good night, Nadine. Are you okay with an early start tomorrow?”
“Definitely.” She smiled at him, then unexpectedly leaned over to kiss his cheek.
Her skin was unbelievably soft and her scent reminded him of spring air in D.C. when the cherry trees were blooming. He caught her around the waist, wanting to prolong the moment of contact. Her breath was hot against his face. He could feel the lushness of her curves that began just at the point where his hand touched her body.
He had never known a woman like this. So feminine and sweet in nature and appearance, yet also determined and capable, honest and principled.
Though he’d sworn he wouldn’t, he kissed her back. This time on her mouth.
She tasted as sweet as he’d expected and her lips were plump and warm as they parted and the kiss deepened.
He stepped inside the room, almost carrying her with him, then shut the door with his foot.
Only one small lamp burned on a table near the bed, and the glow reflected in Nadine’s eyes as she stared up at him. He waited for her to say something. Yes. No. Anything. But she just gazed up at him, and he couldn’t help himself.
He kissed her again.
This time he slipped her coat off her body. He found her scarf and slowly unwrapped her shoulders, revealing the curves of her cleavage, the smooth length of her arms.
He kissed her again.
This time she worked his jacket off his body, then dipped her graceful hands under his sweater and up his back. He shivered with pleasure and sweet anticipation.
“I want to see your breasts,” he told her. “The bare length of your legs. Every sweet inch of you.”
She nodded, then raised her hands. With one sweeping motion, he removed her dress, then stood back to look. With her eyes on his, she unfastened her bra and let it fall. Then stepped out of her panties.
And she was perfect.
He laid her on the bed so he could kiss every part of her. Along the way he shucked his sweater. Then disposed of his jeans. He felt her hands exploring.
“You are solid muscle.”
“I’m lucky it’s too dark for you to see all the scars.”
“I love your muscles and I’d love the scars, too.”
She kissed him again, and he held her close. In his arms she felt so womanly, so precious. He wanted her, desperately, but even more than that, he wanted to please her.
He blocked his mind to worries about the snow, the avalanche, his imminent meeting with his son.
For the next few hours, all he wanted to think about was Nadine.
CHAPTER EIGHT
PATRICK WOKE WITH THE VIVID recollection that he’d spent the night in Nadine’s room. He rolled from his back to his side and reached out with both arms.
Nothing.
He opened his eyes. Where was she? The empty space next to him was still warm.
As his senses slowly cleared, he became aware of sounds from the washroom. A minute later, Nadine emerged, fully dressed from her turtleneck—which was the exact same chocolate shade as her eyes—to her dark blue jeans.
She made the briefest of eye contact with him before dusting her hands together. “You’d better hurry and pack. Didn’t you say you wanted to make an early start?”
Without waiting for his answer, she bent over her own suitcase, reminding him nicely of some of the pleasures from last night.
“Slow down a minute.” He swung his legs to the floor and ran a hand over his head. Sure enough, his hair was standing on end and he knew he needed a shave.
Still, was a good-morning hug too much to ask?
“I can’t slow down. We have a lot to accomplish today. First we’ll need to find out if the highway has been cleared. If so, we should leave as soon as possible.”
He watched as she stuffed a zippered bag into her suitcase, then changed her mind and transferred it to her briefcase.
Finally, he got it.
“You’re sorry about what happened last night.”
“Of course, I regret that it happened.” She looked around, and not spotting anything else to shove into her luggage, started to pace. “I told you that I couldn’t get involved with a client. And what did I do? I promptly spent the night with my client.”
She stopped and clasped a hand to her head. Her eyes, he saw, were shimmering with tears.
“It’s not like I blame you,” she added. “I’m the one with the conflict. I’m the one who was supposed to set the boundaries. I don’t know what’s the matter with me.”
She finished by kicking her bag, not hard, just a tiny vent to the frustration she was clearly feeling.
“Are you sure that’s the real reason you’re upset? Maybe you’re upset because you didn’t enjoy yourself. Maybe I didn’t—”
“Oh, you did,” she assured him. “Last night was wonderful in every way. I can’t remember the last time I had so much fun. Which is probably why I let it happen. But it still isn’t right.”
“I hope I didn’t give you the impression that my intentions are frivolous.”
She shook her head. “No. But, please. Can we not talk about it? I know it’s silly to pretend it never happened. But could we try?”
He was surprised at how much her suggestion hurt. He hoped he hadn’t pushed too hard last night. He didn’t think he had. Too bad she looked so adorable, even when she was upset. She couldn’t have any idea how much he still longed to hold her. And kiss her.
But on another level, he understood and respected her need to maintain her integrity. The least he could do now was honor her wishes.
Besides, he couldn’t deny his own strong urge to start looking for his son.
He reached for his jeans and stepped into them quickly. Then he grabbed his sweater, socks and jacket. He checked the pocket and found his room key.
“Okay, Nadine. We’ll do this your way. For now. I’ll be ready to leave in fifteen minutes. If the highway is clear, we’ll make Kicking Horse Ski Resort before noon.”
AS SOON AS PATRICK LEFT her room, Nadine headed for the main lodge. Her emotions were in a terrible tangle, but she was determined to stick with plan A, which was to pret
end nothing had happened last night.
Later, when she could afford the time, she would relive the evening, the glorious highs of being with Patrick, followed by the terrible guilt of realizing she’d screwed up once again.
Right now, though, she was Nadine Kimble, private investigator, following a hot lead, and hoping for the breakthrough that would justify all the risks she’d taken so far.
Even with the worries she had on her mind, Nadine was impressed with how pretty the resort looked in daylight. Everywhere she looked the snow was pure and untouched. The boughs of the evergreen trees were heavy with their crystal-white frosting. The chalets and main lodge had been designed to nestle into the landscape as if they had grown there naturally.
As for the lake, there was no way to tell how beautiful it might be in the summer. Right now it was frozen and covered with snow. A section had been cleared for ice skating. In the far distance she could make out several cross-country skiers enjoying the fresh air.
Nadine stomped the snow off her boots, then entered the main building. A young man named Tyler was behind the desk this morning, and when she inquired about the avalanche, he assured her that no one had been hurt, the snowplows had been through and the highway was open again.
“May I use your phone? I’d like to call ahead to the Kicking Horse Resort.”
“By all means.” He invited her to use the phone in a private alcove, then busied himself with other tasks.
Nadine took a deep breath, crossed her fingers and dialed the number she’d dug out from her files. When the phone was answered, she asked if she could book a private ski lesson, and her call was rerouted.
A cheerful-sounding woman with an Aussie accent answered. “G’day. How can I help you?”
“I was hoping I could take a private ski lesson today. We’re about to leave Emerald Lake Lodge. We should be at the hill by eleven.”
“Do you have your own equipment?”
“No. I’ll need to rent.”
“Not a problem. Why don’t we set something up for twelve o’clock. It’s a Monday, so the hill is nice and quiet. The perfect time for a lesson.”
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