Wrapped Around My Heart

by Kelly Collins

  “It’s real at the moment.” She turned her body to face me, and my head fell to the pillow. “This is fantasy, and it’s an amazing one, but it’s not our reality. We didn’t come up here for amazing sex.”

  I bit her shoulder, and she flinched. “We do have amazing sex.”

  “The best.”

  I shifted so we were face to face. “Tell me your reality.” Deep inside I wanted her to tell me she loved me. It was a stupid thought because outside of work, Jess didn’t know me, but I wanted her love, and as soon as I settled all this business stuff, she’d be my next acquisition.

  “The pass is still closed. There was an avalanche, and the lanes are covered for a mile.”

  “Shit. Are you sure?” I tossed off the covers and paced the room naked.

  “I checked when I got up.”

  “Damnit. This deal is the most important thing to me right now.” I turned in time to see her pull her frown into a mask of indifference. I was familiar with that mask. I’d worn it all my life. Never let him see that you’re hurt was my motto growing up. “I’m sorry, Jess. I didn’t mean to insinuate that what we did here wasn’t important.”

  “What? I didn’t say anything.”

  She didn’t have to; her response was evidence in the silence between us.

  “Now what?” I looked around the room. It would never be what it was last night. I’d ruined that with my words. “Shall we head back to Denver?”

  “No.” She rolled out of bed and went straight to the bathroom. A few minutes later, she appeared already dressed in yesterday’s black slacks. “Go take a shower. I have an idea, but I have to make a few calls.”

  “You think you can salvage this trip?” I wanted to cut my tongue out. I really needed to choose my words more wisely. “What I mean is …”

  “Go. Let me do what I do best.”

  She picked up her phone and turned her back to me. Several seconds later, I heard her say, “Hi, Dad.”

  Chapter 11

  Jess

  It was like Dad was sitting next to the phone because he answered on the first ring. “Did you make it safely to Aspen, honey?”

  I let out a groan, not the kind I had last night when Mark coaxed unbelievable pleasure from my body, but the kind that came from frustration mixed with hurt and shit luck.

  “The pass is closed.”

  “What’s the plan?”

  Dad knew me well. I wasn’t the type to roll over and quit—unless, of course, I was dealing with Bethany. I’d learned early on that some fights weren’t worth fighting. With Bethany, you might win once, but you’d ultimately lose in the end.

  “I was thinking—”

  “That’s no surprise. You were always the thinker.”

  I walked to the window and pushed the corner of the curtain open. There was no sun. Large snowflakes floated from a darkened sky to blanket anything that wasn’t moving.

  “This meeting is really important to Mark.” I’d always called him Mr. Cantwell to my parents, and it felt odd to refer to him so informally, but after what we’d done last night, calling him Mr. Cantwell didn’t feel right either. “Anyway, I thought if we could make it to your house today, maybe we could borrow the Jeep for the rest of the trip.”

  There was a long pause. “The only way to make it here is the back roads, Jess. Do you think that’s wise?”

  “Oh, Dad, I’m way past being wise right now.” I let the curtain fall back into place. The bathroom door opened, and Mark walked out in nothing but a towel. “What do you …”

  Mark stalked toward me like he was a panther and I was prey.

  “Honey, are you there?”

  Mark leaned in and kissed my forehead.

  “Honey?” Dad’s voice echoed on the other end of the line.

  “Sorry, Dad. I got distracted.” I handed Mark his ironed shirt and pants and turned him back toward the bathroom. “So can we borrow your SUV?”

  “Of course you can, but the back roads can be treacherous. Maybe you should wait out the storm.” Dad’s muffled voice meant he’d put his hand over the receiver. “Mom agrees. You should wait out the storm.”

  “You don’t want me home?”

  “Of course we do, but we want you home safe and sound.” I heard him relaying my question to Mom, and in my head, I could see her roll her eyes.

  “I’ve got to go, Dad. I’ll see you in a few hours.” Mark walked out of the bathroom dressed for the boardroom. The only difference about him from every other day was the scruff of a day without shaving, and I had to say it looked damn sexy on him.

  “Pack up, we’re rerouting through the backcountry.”

  “Is that wise?”

  “Probably not, but it’s really the only choice if we want to complete our mission.” I folded my T-shirt and shorts and shoved them into my bag. “We are heading through the back roads to my parents’ house and borrowing their Jeep.”

  “So I’m going to meet your parents?” He gave me a smirk. “Should I be worried?”

  “Nope, they think you slept on the couch, remember?” When I picked Mark’s sweatpants off the floor, he pulled them from my hands.

  “Leave them.” He plucked at the corner of the shirt peeking from my purse.

  “I’m keeping mine. You bought it for me.” I shoved it deeper into my bag and zipped it shut.

  “I’ll buy you something nicer.” He grabbed the keys and pocketed them.

  “These will always be special to me. I’m keeping them to remind me that something amazing can come from a complete disaster.”

  Mark pulled me into his arms and kissed me long and hard. It felt like a just-getting-started kiss. But even if he wasn’t aware, it was a goodbye kiss. I knew that the minute we walked out of this room, he would become Mr. Cantwell, and I would return to my role as his assistant.

  Sorrow gripped my heart because I knew it would be a painful loss. How was I supposed to forget those moments of passion? The magic of his tongue? The touch of his hands? The feel of him inside me? I never would, but we’d said what happened at high altitude would stay at high altitude. And Los Angeles was sea level.

  We checked out of the motel and hit the truck stop where I gathered real coffee and food while Mark touched base with the client.

  His scowl said everything. “Braxton’s plane leaves at noon on Christmas Day. If I’m not there, he’s selling to the next in line.”

  I placed the coffee, donuts, and breakfast sandwiches on the counter. “He sounds like a real Ebenezer.”

  He pulled a bill from his wallet and paid. “I can’t blame him, I’d do the same thing.”

  “He’s a Scrooge, I tell you.” I shouldered him in jest, but he didn’t budge. Not surprising for a man who appeared carved from granite.

  “You wouldn’t put someone’s life in peril to simply seal a deal,” I said, shaking my head. But my voice wasn’t as firm as I had intended because that was exactly what he was doing ... or was it? In hindsight, it was me pressing his agenda because I didn’t want to fail him. “I don’t know what’s crazier, the fact that he demands the impossible, or the fact that we’re willing to give him it.” I picked up the bag and walked out of the store.

  Mark got in the driver’s side. “Do you want to turn back?” There was no irritation in his voice. I was almost convinced that if I said yes, he’d turn around, but then he’d always regret that decision. I didn’t need to feel guilty for taking away something that he saw as his. This was his opportunity to right a wrong—to regain a piece of his heritage—to rightfully claim what belonged to him. I wouldn’t be another person who took something from him.

  Despite the trip being a series of unfortunate events, there were endless moments I’d do all over again. Several hours of pure bliss were a perfect healing balm to the disaster. No, I wasn’t ready to throw in the towel just yet. I dug deep to find my smile and can-do spirit.

  “If we give up now, everything will have been for nothing.” I pulled the visor down and touched
the tender purple mark on my forehead. “Let’s go, Mr. Cantwell, the most important thing in your life is waiting.”

  He looked at me with something akin to admiration. “Where to, navigator?”

  I guided him through the back roads for the next three hours. The roads were treacherous, but we plugged along at a safe pace.

  On the way, he stopped in a town that could be missed with the blink of an eye. A little mom-and-pop country store that sold alpaca wool and fudge. An odd combination.

  He kept the car running and told me he’d be out in a second.

  Fifteen minutes later, he returned with a bag.

  “What’s in the bag?”

  He pulled out some nicely wrapped packages. “You sacrificed the gifts for your family so I could stay warm. I replaced them.”

  In his hand was the softest cream-colored beanie that he pulled onto my head. “If we get stuck again, I don’t want you cold either.”

  “You didn’t have to buy me anything. I’ve got a hood.” I tapped the triangle of fabric bunched up at my back.

  He cupped my face in a way that made me feel cherished. “It hides your beautiful eyes.”

  The heat of a blush rose to warm my cheeks. “You didn’t have to replace the gifts.”

  He laughed. “I can’t have you showing up to your parents’ house with nothing. Bad enough they’ll think I’m an awful, demanding boss, but if you show up empty-handed, they’ll think I don’t pay you enough. A fact that is probably true considering all you do for me.”

  “Thank you for being so considerate.” I traced the soft alpaca wool with the tips of my fingers. It was far nicer than anything I could have made.

  He turned in his seat. “Jess, it was the least I could do.” He started the car and pulled back onto the two-lane highway. “I looked for a gift for your sister, but they didn’t have a muzzle or a tranquilizer gun.” His shoulders shook in an attempt to contain his laughter.

  “That’s an awful thing to say.” I opened the bag and rummaged through the donuts to find the chocolate-dipped minis.

  “Am I misrepresenting her?”

  “No, you pegged her spot on.” I let out a sigh. “A muzzle would have been perfect.”

  He reached over and plucked a donut from the package.

  “I love the way you share, Jess.”

  “And what will you share with me?”

  “When we get to Aspen, I’ll share it all, Jess. We’ll sign the contract. Visit the hotel gift shop for new clothes. Have a nice dinner and …”

  “And?” Would he want another night?

  “And if I can convince you to spend the night, I’d like to share something else.”

  A quick glance his way told me exactly what he wanted to share with me. Every single hard inch of him pushed against his trousers.

  “Look at you.” I reached across the seat and rubbed his heavy, hard outline. We were still at high altitude, and he was pressing for another night, so it seemed appropriate. “You’ve become such a sharer.”

  He took his foot off the gas. “As much as I love your hands on me. I want to stay alive.” He pointed to the outside where snowflakes as big as quarters took a slow dive to the ground. “Keep that thought for later.”

  “You want a later?”

  “Of course I want a later. Last night was amazing, but it wasn’t enough.” He took my hand and pulled it to his lips.

  Caught up in his words and his touch, I almost missed the turn into my parents’ driveway.

  “Right. Right. Right.”

  “Damn straight. I love the enthusiasm.”

  “No, I mean turn right.” He swung the car into the barely paved drive, nearly hitting the big pine tree at the end. The tires spun as we made our way to the cabin at the top of the hill.

  Bouncing on the balls of her feet was Mom. Behind her was Dad, tugging on his coat.

  “Honey, you made it.” Dad trotted down the steps to the car. He whistled when he got a good look at the damage.

  “Dad, stay there. We’ll be right up.”

  “I’ll help you with your things.”

  I looked back at the beaten-up car. “We don’t have anything to bring in. Besides, we’re staying just long enough to trade this beauty for yours.”

  Mom and Dad looked at each other before Dad broke the silence. “You aren’t going anywhere.”

  Chapter 12

  Mark

  Jim Stone led us into the rustic log cabin. The air smelled like cinnamon and spice. A fire crackled in the stone fireplace, and a space was carved out in the corner for the Christmas tree the Stones would cut down and decorate on Christmas Eve.

  The house was warm and cozy. A far cry from the glass and steel of my penthouse. Plaid throws were draped over the arms of the worn leather sofa, begging for a body to cover.

  All the way up here, Jess had talked about her family and the holidays. How they trekked out into the forest on Christmas Eve day and picked out the perfect tree. How her father used Grandpa’s ax to cut it down. Once it was up, they would sing Christmas carols and eat cookies while they covered the tree with decorations made over the years.

  Spending time with loved ones was a foreign concept to me. If I was lucky, I got to sleep in and order room service before Dad was in motion.

  “Scotch?” Jim held up a bottle of Macallan. “Looks like you could use a drink.”

  “Yes, sir, that would be great.” I looked past him to the kitchen where Jess and her mom were locked in a hug.

  “Finally,” a voice came from the stairs. “It seems like we’re always waiting for you.” The owner of the voice stepped off the stairs and took in her surroundings like a detective at a fresh crime scene. “And who is this?”

  “You must be Bethany.” I set the tumbler down on the wooden coffee table and offered my hand. She laid hers in mine like she was royalty and left it there as if waiting for me to kiss her ring.

  “I am, and you must be Mr. Cantwell.”

  “Call me Mark.” I shook her hand, pulled mine back, and looked toward Jess who had an I-told-you-so look on her face.

  I turned away from Bethany and focused on Jim. “What’s this about not going anywhere?”

  “All the main passes are closed. You arrived in the middle of an Albuquerque low.”

  I picked up the tumbler and took a drink, letting the alcohol create a slow burn down to my stomach. “Excuse my ignorance, but I have no idea what that means.”

  Bethany walked between her father and me. She picked up the scotch and poured herself a tumbler, then ruined the quality liquor by adding several cubes of ice.

  “What Daddy’s saying is that the storm came in from New Mexico, which means it’s twice as wet and twice as much.”

  Jess approached with two decorated cookies: one a snowman and one a Santa. “These are the best. Pick one.”

  I saw the sparkle in her eye, but I was sure no one else did. This was a private joke between the two of us. I reached for the snowman. “I hear you have a thing for Santa. I’ll leave that one for you.”

  She stuck her tongue out and licked the frosting off the top, arousing insane jealousy of a cookie … among other things. I’d been the recipient of her tongue, and the experience was nothing short of amazing.

  With an expression designed for poker, she looked at her father. “So I met this guy whose middle name was Santa. Can you believe that?”

  “Was he hot?” her sister asked.

  “Amazingly so.”

  “You should date him. Isn’t it time you found a man?” Bethany walked to Jess and rubbed at the dark circles under Jess’s eyes. Circles I’d put there by keeping her up late. “You’re not getting any younger, you know.”

  Jess swiped her sister’s hand away. “I’m doing all right.”

  Jim walked to the kitchen. I wasn’t sure whether it was a survival instinct or a real craving for a cookie. I should have followed him, but I didn’t want to leave Jess alone with her sister, unprotected.

 
“You spend all your time at work.” She looked me up and down. “I mean, your boss is handsome, but really, Jess. He’s not going to keep your bed warm and put a child in your belly.”

  “Geez, Bethany. Mark is my boss. Can you spare him the drama for a day?”

  She looked at Mark. “Jess might be a rock star at work, but here she’s an opening act.” She tipped back the glass and drained it.

  “Do you really have to go for the jugular every minute of the day? How awful does your life have to be that you take down others to lift yourself up?”

  Before Bethany could attack again, Jess’s mom Amy approached the group. “Dad says he’ll keep checking in case any of the passes open. The storm is supposed to get worse overnight, then clear on Christmas Day.” She looked toward me with Jess’s green eyes. “I’m sorry, Mr. Cantwell, but it looks like you’re stuck with us.”

  Bethany sat on the couch with a heavy thud.

  “Where’s Matt?” Jess asked her sister.

  “He’s not coming. He’s on call this weekend.” She poured herself another three fingers of scotch.

  “Where’s Ben?” Jess picked another Santa off the plate her mother had set on the table. “I just love Santa.”

  I gave Jess my best Santa-wants-you-again look without letting her family in on to what Jess and I had shared the night before. By her smile, I knew she got every silent word I sent.

  Bethany took a sip and looked toward the stairs. “It’s nap time.” She watched Jess nibble the black boots off the cookie. “Do you really think you need another cookie?”

  Jess grabbed two more and dramatically bit the heads off both. “Definitely.”

  “Sweetie,” her mom said, “since the roads are closed, I’ve prepared the guest room for Mr. Cantwell.”

  “Please call me Mark,” I asked. “I do appreciate your hospitality. It’s been quite a trip, and honestly very little has gone right.”

  “Tell me about the trip.”

  “Jess told you the story.” I sipped my scotch and watched Jess. Each time I looked at her, something inside me did a flip, making my heart race and my dick twitch. “canceled flight, a reroute, a car accident.” I brushed Jess’s bangs aside to show the bruise on her head.