CA 35 Christmas Past

by Debra Webb

  Hell. “I’m not an intruder,” he growled. “I have a key. One the clerk gave to me.”

  She ignored him, listened to whatever the front desk had to say. “Thank you.” She sent him a triumphant look as she dropped the receiver back into its cradle. “The manager will be right up. He’ll straighten this out, and then you’ll see that you’re in the wrong room.”

  Jason shook his head. “I’m in the room they assigned me. If—” he let his expression show the doubt he felt that this would be the case “—I’m in the wrong room, the clerk made a mistake. They’ll give one of us another room and everything will be fine.”

  “It won’t be me,” she shot back. “I was here first. First come, first served, sir.”

  Jason removed his sunglasses so he could look her directly in the eyes. “That’s fine. You stay. I’ll take another room.” Not a problem! He wasn’t that hard to please.

  “Wait.” Those big brown eyes narrowed again. “I know you.”

  Defeat dragged his resolve all the way to the floor. Perfect. Now she would want to press whatever charges she could trump up. Or would insist that his Peeping Tom activities had permanently scarred her and generous compensation was essential.

  “You’re that kooky news anchor guy from CNN who jets around the country. I thought I recognized you even with the sunglasses. Maybe you need a teleprompter to understand this…”

  He didn’t argue, just let her think what she would.

  “…they can’t give you another room.” She shifted the wine bottle to her other hand. “The place is filled to capacity. There aren’t any other rooms. I guess you’re out of luck.”

  Dread sat like a big, cold stone in his gut. She was right. He’d gotten the last room two weeks ago. And this one had only been available because of a last-minute cancelation.

  Just great. This whole expedition was off to a spectacular start.

  CHAPTER THREE

  THE LODGE MANAGER, the concierge and the head reservation clerk were dumbfounded. The three gentlemen and Fewell stared at Molly as if she should admit defeat and forfeit possession of the room.

  Not going to happen.

  “Sorry.” She folded her arms over her chest. To Fewell’s obvious relief, she’d gotten dressed while they waited for the lodge powers-that-be to arrive. “No can do. I was here first.”

  Fewell shook his head. “Fine. I’ll move to another lodge.” He turned to the concierge. “Can you find me another room someplace else?”

  The three staff members looked at each other.

  “What?” Fewell demanded, clearly beyond frustrated.

  “Sir,” the manager confessed, “there are no other rooms. Anywhere.”

  Fewell looked from one to the other. “You’ve got to be kidding? In the whole city? That doesn’t seem possible.”

  Victory sent a rush of adrenaline through Molly’s veins. “Told you.”

  He glared at her. “You said there were no other rooms here.”

  “I said,” she countered, “there aren’t any available. Period. Believe me, I was happy to get this room, even though I didn’t really want to fork over the cost of a suite.”

  Fewell turned back to the lodge staff. “There’s an easy solution to this.” Fury simmered in his tone. “Just check your system and see who was first—”

  “Are you out of your mind?” Molly demanded. He was determined, she would give him that. “I was already in the suite when you arrived.”

  The staff’s collective gazes swung from Molly to Fewell in anticipation of what he would say next. It was their job to ensure all guests were satisfied with the accommodations and the service. This predicament was unacceptable…and completely beyond their control.

  “I mean,” Fewell rasped, “who made the reservation first. Surely that’s annotated somewhere in the reservation system.”

  “Actually,” the reservation clerk ventured, his hands wringing, “I already checked that. And it seems the reservations were made—” he moistened his lips “—simultaneously.”

  Disbelief claimed Fewell’s face. “Is that even possible?”

  “I’ve never seen it happen before,” the manager hastened to assure, “but it does appear to have occurred in this instance.” He shook his head grimly. “Madam, sir, I do apologize. I can offer you both a complimentary stay at some other time. But there’s simply nothing more I can offer at the moment. One of you will have to accede to the other. We will gladly attempt to find other lodging in a nearby village.”

  “I’m not leaving,” Molly announced, her words in perfect time with the exact ones Fewell uttered.

  They stared at each other.

  “We’ll leave this to the two of you to resolve,” the manager offered. “Again, you have our sincerest apologies.”

  The three men were out the door before the announcement stopped echoing in the room.

  Molly would have to call her friend and thank him. His little visit into the lodge’s reservation system had not only worked like a charm but had been completely undetectable. As pleased as she was that her old high school buddy’s hacking skills were so primo, it was a rather scary thought. Good thing he was one of the good guys.

  “All right.” Fewell set his hands on his hips in finality. “What’s it going to cost me to get this room, Ms. Clark?”

  Molly adopted a properly outraged expression. “Who do you think you are? This is my room, fair and square. You cannot buy me off, Mr. Fewell.”

  “Ten thousand dollars,” he announced. “That’s as high as I’ll go.”

  Her eyes widened. Was he for real? “You’re out of your mind. Just because you’re evidently rich doesn’t mean you can push the little people around. It took me all year to save up for this vacation. I’ve always wanted to do Christmas in Aspen. I’m not about to ditch it all for a guy who can take a fancy vacation anytime he chooses. No way. The room is mine.”

  That hit the spot she’d hoped for. His fury seemed to rush out of him as quickly as it had come.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.” He plowed his fingers through his hair. “You’re right. That wouldn’t be fair to you.”

  She was almost there. “Look.” She took a big breath. “We should be rational about this. We’re both adults. It’s a huge suite.” She spread her arms wide apart in emphasis. “There’s no reason we can’t share. I’ll bet the lodge will even let us have the place for free, considering the obvious error.”

  He was shaking his head before she finished speaking. “I can’t do that.”

  She looked him up and down as if he’d just insulted her. “Why? If I’m willing to share the space, what makes you above my company?”

  He closed his eyes, heaved a disgusted breath. When he met her gaze once more, he said, “My presence here may become an issue…If the press hears about it, there could be a less-than-comfortable situation.”

  Her mouth dropped open in an oh-my-god reaction. She looked him up and down once more. “You are some TV personality.”

  He held up both hands. “Not a TV personality.”

  “You don’t look like any politician I’ve ever seen.” Her gaze tapered as if assessing her memory banks. “Are you that big Wall Street guy suspected of embezzling all that money?”

  Now he was the one wearing the oh-my-god face.

  “Right. Right.” She shook her head. “He’s way older than you. But with all the Botox you celebs use, who can tell?”

  “My name’s Jason Fewell,” he explained since the lodge staff had addressed him as Mr. Fewell. “You really don’t know who I am?”

  She shrugged. “Sorry. Never heard of any Jason Fewell.” Her brow furrowed as she feigned further consideration. “How do you spell that?”

  He waved her off. “Never mind. I’m a NASCAR driver.”

  “NASCAR. Oh.” She nodded knowingly.

  “Oh? You’re not a fan?”

  “Well.” She laughed, going for the appearance of embarrassment. “I mean, if
you’re asking if I watch the races, I’d have to say no. I mean, I’m not really into all that for show competition stuff.”

  He let the roundabout insult pass. “Got it.”

  “So…reporters follow you around?”

  A skeptical look shot her way. “Not all the time.” He shrugged those broad shoulders.

  She frowned.

  “Never mind.” He threw up his hands again. “Let’s just get past that, okay?”

  “Why did you pick Aspen?” Molly dropped on the sofa. She was starved. She hadn’t eaten since well before lunch and it was nearing six now. “A guy like you could go anywhere. I guess you like to ski.”

  The pain that blanketed his face made her gut tighten. Oh, yeah. This guy was still deeply disturbed by the three-year-old tragedy. One would expect the memory to still be a tender one, but if in fact it had slowly but surely started to paralyze him on a personal level, that was a whole different issue. And not the normal course of the grief process.

  “I used to. My first love is climbing.”

  A smile tilted her lips. “Me, too. I’m here to climb. Forget the skiing, that’s for all those people who don’t have the courage to go after the real adrenaline rush.”

  He stared at her for a long moment, his expression completely unreadable. “I don’t know if this arrangement you’re proposing will work, Ms. Clark.”

  She had to tread carefully here. She didn’t want to scare him off. “To be honest, I won’t be here much. I have a full itinerary planned. By the time I come to the room at night I’ll probably just collapse in bed. You’ll hardly know I’m here.”

  “But there’s only one bed.” He jerked his head toward the bedroom.

  “But there’s the couch. It makes a bed. Looks expensive so it’ll probably be comfortable. And there are two bathrooms. One in here with a shower and then the larger one in there with the soaking tub.”

  He walked over to the wall of windows and stared out.

  At least he hadn’t said no…yet.

  Molly joined him at the window, not getting too close. The view over the gorgeous village was awesome. “Look, Mr. Fewell. I waited a long time for this vacation. And you seem to have your own reasons for needing to be here. Let’s just make the best of it. We’ll hardly see each other. If you get friendly with a lady, you’ll just have to go back to her room. I’ll do the same.”

  He smiled as he turned to her. “You get friendly with the ladies?”

  That was the first real smile she’d seen, and man-oh-man was it something. The cameras did not do that smile justice. “You know what I mean.”

  “Where are you from, Molly Clark?”

  “Chicago.” That was where she lived right now. She didn’t dare tell him she had three brothers living just down the road. The oldest was in Denver now.

  “What do you do in Chicago?”

  Now he wanted to check her out, did he? “Research.”

  “What kind of research?” A flicker of suspicion darkened those blue eyes.

  “For companies who need background checks on people.” She bit her bottom lip. That was part of her job, so she wasn’t telling a total lie. “I’m not really supposed to talk about it, though.”

  He nodded. “Okay.” His gaze collided with hers once more. “You don’t have a boyfriend or husband who’s going to make something out of this?”

  “Nope. Never been married and probably never will. I don’t really trust men.”

  A frown etched its way across his brow. “You don’t trust men, and yet you’re willing to share this suite with me?”

  “I don’t trust men as boyfriends and husbands. Considering you’re a big celebrity and all, I figure you’ll behave yourself. Otherwise I might cause you a lot of bad publicity. That would not be in your favor.”

  “Definitely not.”

  “So you respect my space, and I’ll respect yours, and we’ll get through this just fine.”

  “I have to consider what the media would make of this arrangement,” he countered.

  “Discretion is my middle name,” she assured him. “Deal?” She thrust out her hand.

  He hesitated only a moment before closing his hand around hers. “Deal.”

  That was the moment she realized that she’d made a serious tactical error.

  The tingle that accompanied those long fingers wrapping around hers buzzed right up her arm and seemed to ignite along every nerve ending.

  She, Molly Clark, who had kicked the butt of any boy who’d ever tried to get fresh with her, was attracted to this guy.

  Impossible.

  It never mattered how cute a guy was or how charming. She was, of course, a woman and on some level acknowledged those assets. But not once had she ever experienced a truly visceral reaction to any man.

  Until now.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Three Days Until Christmas

  INCREDIBLY, THE NIGHT had passed without any trouble to speak of. Molly had gone out to dinner and hadn’t returned until Jason was already in bed. He’d watched her slip through the dark sitting room on her way to the bedroom. She’d closed the door and run a bath.

  He’d tried to go back to sleep, but sleep had proven impossible. He’d kept imagining her naked. Hadn’t been that difficult since she’d been wearing nothing but a towel when they met. Flashes of those long, toned legs and all that curly dark hair cascading over her shoulders had kept him tossing and turning for hours. He had imagined her stepping from that tub with the water slipping down her skin. Her soft fingers smoothing the towel along that same path.

  The only good thing about it was the fact that he hadn’t been slammed in the gut with a panic attack. Not to mention he hadn’t felt that kind of attraction in three years. Maybe it was a sign that coming here had been the right step toward recovery.

  That was what his shrink called it. Recovery. Recovering himself and his ability to face each day with whatever trials it brought.

  “Yeah right.” Just because some parts still worked didn’t mean he was anywhere near recovered.

  There was something else he wasn’t supposed to do—expect failure.

  Where the hell had his confidence gone? The only place he felt like himself was on the track. Would the time come when he lost that, too?

  Opening the door as soundlessly as possible, he stepped out of the bathroom. He was dressed and ready to go. All he needed was his gear—

  “Good morning.” Molly had one hand on the door, obviously on her way out. “You were so quiet I thought you were gone already.”

  He couldn’t speak for a moment. He could only stare at her. Dressed all in black—sweater, cold-weather slacks that fit her toned legs like a second skin, mountain boots and heavy-duty parka. The necessary gloves stuck out of her pockets. That mass of wild curls was tucked into a ski hat. A bag of gear hung from her left hand.

  She was ready for an expedition, as well.

  Just like Cynthia had been that final morning…the day before Christmas.

  “You had breakfast?”

  He mentally scrambled to regain his bearings in the present. “No. I…” He what? Planned to go out without fueling up? Not a smart move. Saying it out loud would be even dumber.

  “Great. We can have breakfast together.” She smiled. “Management feels so bad about what happened, they’ll probably spring for our meals, too.”

  He walked across the room and pulled on his parka, then stuffed the gloves into the pockets. “I’ll get something later.” He grabbed his gear.

  “Okay.” She smiled. “Have fun.”

  She had a nice smile. And the cutest little freckles sprinkled across her nose.

  What the hell was he doing? Last night he’d been frustrated and travel weary. He hadn’t been thinking straight. He should never have agreed to this arrangement. The action was wholly out of character for him…even since he’d started losing his mind.

  This was about the most ridiculous situation he’d ever gotten himself into.

&
nbsp; He didn’t try to catch up with her as they moved down the corridor outside the room. She stopped at the elevators and pushed the call button. He kept going, heading for the stairwell. The longer he was with her the more questions she would ask. They’d already shared enough personal information.

  More than he’d shared with a stranger in…three years.

  Funny—he reached for the stairwell door—it seemed that most everything about his life had either ended or ground to a near stop three years ago.

  Right here in Aspen.

  Maybe that was the problem. He was disoriented to some degree…making decisions he wouldn’t usually even entertain.

  He slung the backpack over his shoulder and took his time descending the stairs. Maybe by the time he’d reached the lobby, she would already be out the main entrance or in the restaurant.

  There were far too many mountain trails around here for them to end up attempting the same one. But he didn’t want to risk running into her again in the lobby. He’d been wrong when he arrived yesterday. He wasn’t the only person here alone. Molly was alone, as well. Unlike him, she didn’t appear to want to stay that way. If he encountered her in the lobby, she would no doubt suggest they go climbing together.

  That was something he had to do alone.

  Assuming he could do it.

  That was the crazy thing. He could push his car around the track one hundred and eighty miles per hour, but he couldn’t put one foot in front of the other to do one damned thing else considered even remotely dangerous without breaking out in a cold sweat.

  He paused as he reached the lobby. Strange. He hadn’t had the usual nightmares last night. Hadn’t awakened in a cold sweat with his heart beating out of his chest. Once he’d gone to sleep, he’d slept straight through until the alarm went off on his cell phone at five this morning.

  Must’ve been crazy tired.

  Being tired certainly hadn’t helped before, but maybe he was finally turning that corner toward acceptance and recovery.