by Alice Raine
‘It isn’t exactly my dream situation either,’ he replied bluntly, draining his mug and standing up to put it in the sink. ‘You better make yourself at home because there’s no way any car is getting though these country lanes for a while, sweetheart.’ I was about to complain about his casual endearment, which had sounded far nicer to my ears that it should have, and was really way too informal given our situation, but he suddenly struck me silent by striding across the room and encroaching right into my personal space.
And I mean right into my space. God, he was standing really, really close. So close, in fact, that if I jutted my head forwards ever so slightly I’d be able to rub my chin on his chest.
What was he doing this close? I might be attracted to him, but it certainly didn’t seem to be reciprocated by him; he’d been nothing but irritable and brusque with me since we’d met, so suddenly placing himself this close to me didn’t make any sense at all. The only benefit to this new positioning was that I finally got to see what colour his dark eyes were – a navy blue with a slightly lighter centre and just a few flecks of green and hazel around the pupil.
He was now so far inside my personal space that I could smell his aftershave. It was the same slightly smoky, spicy scent that I’d smelt on his coat yesterday and it reminded me of the great outdoors, which I suppose was about right for a man like this one. With his broad shoulders and large build he looked nothing if not capable. My breath caught in my throat as I inhaled another lungful of lovely maleness, the scent making my stomach clench. God, breathing in his delicious smell was not a good idea.
Tilting my head back I looked up warily into his face, but instead of initiating conversation, he simply stood there and silently scrutinised me, his dark eyes latching on to mine and sucking me in again.
This really wasn’t ideal at all. My body was in overdrive again; I was aroused every time I laid eyes on this guy, and now it looked like I was going to have to endure this for an entire week.
Seemingly incapable of moving away, I simply stood there and sent up a silent prayer that he wasn’t going to start a staring thing like he had last night. His eyes remained blank, but I saw just the tiniest flicker at the corner of his lips that seemed to indicate that he knew exactly what devastating things his close proximity did to my composure, but then, breaking the moment, he lifted a hand and fingered the damp material of my jumper.
Now he had broken the eye contact I felt like I could breathe again, but that was about the only function I was managing. To be honest, this was all getting a bit much; my body seemed totally out of my control when he was around, and despite my brain screaming at me to do something, anything, I did nothing.
As if my throat could take no more tension, a loud swallow forced its way down as one of his knuckles accidently brushed across my stomach as he continued to run the hem of my jumper between his fingers. A gasp flew from my lips as my skin tingled in the wake of his brief touch and I mentally kicked myself for the slip. Self-consciously flicking my gaze to his, our eyes met again, and for the briefest of seconds I could have sworn I saw a flash of mutual attraction reflected in his irises before he looked away again.
‘This won’t keep out the chill,’ he muttered. Letting out a weary sigh he shook his head and stepped back, breaking the spell he’d cast upon me so suddenly that I almost slumped forwards from the loss of the intense connection. ‘I’ll leave out some clothes you can borrow. Layer up. This is a big house and it gets cold.’ With that, he cast me one final look and abruptly left the kitchen.
Behind his departing figure I immediately sagged onto the nearest work surface with a huge sigh. Turning my burning cheek onto the cool marble, my eyes fluttered shut as I tried to calm my raging heartbeat and equally enflamed lust. I was so overheated I felt like I was going to melt, and vaguely considered the option of opening the back door and throwing myself into the snow to cool down. Mind you, that would no doubt lead to the house owner thinking he’d have to ‘save’ me again by throwing me over his shoulder and dragging me back inside, then I’d just be back at square one, except with soaking wet clothes.
Pushing myself upright I blew out a long breath and turned towards the coffee maker, intent on clearing my head with a nice burst of caffeine. Thankfully I didn’t have to attempt to negotiate with all the buttons and handles on the space age machine because there was a large jug steaming away on a hot plate at one end. Opening several cupboards I finally found the cups and selected the largest mug I could see as I pondered my feelings and poured from the heated coffee jug.
What the heck was happening to me? He was a virtual stranger, but I found myself absurdly drawn to him. It wasn’t for his personality, that was for sure, but the way I had caught his eyes on me twice this morning had been unnerving in a ridiculously exciting way.
Rolling my eyes, I decided that I’d been single way too long if I was hankering after a man as miserable as this one. I lifted the mug to my lips with a smile.
An appreciative moan slipped from my throat, and this time it had nothing to do with a domineering, sexy mansion owner, and everything to do with the delicious contents in my mug. That had to be the best coffee I’d ever tasted. Curious as to where it came from I opened a few more cabinets before finding a bag of coffee beans carefully folded and sealed with a clip. Reading the label I smiled to myself: Columbian Fairtrade. No wonder I liked it – Columbian was my favourite because of its nutty and almost sweet flavour. Taking another sip I licked my lips approvingly and topped it up.
As I carefully placed the coffee jug back I decided to put my strange attraction down to nothing more than some sort of chemistry between us. I’d heard tales of instantaneous lust and attraction so strong that people did crazy things, but I’d never actually experienced it myself. It looked like I was getting a first-hand taste of it now though, that was for sure. Shaking my head in mild frustration I stared out at the snow-covered garden and shivered as I relived the sensations this man had awoken in me. Chemistry. That’s all it was. Really, really potent chemistry. But it would wear off. Especially if I avoided him, which after this morning’s stomach stroking encounter, I certainly planned to do.
Realising just how hungry I was after skipping dinner last night, I grabbed a banana and went back to the coffee cupboard where I’d spotted some cereal bars. My stash complete, I headed from the kitchen, careful to avoid the door to the lounge that the mystery man had taken.
Making my way back to my bedroom I set myself a plan to hide out as much as possible. It was warm, cosy, had a large, full bookcase to keep me busy, and best of all, it seemed the perfect way to avoid any more run-ins with the owner and his annoyingly magnetic muscles.
Outside the door I saw a pile of clothes, and after feeling mildly surprised that he’d followed through on his promise so quickly, I picked it up to take it inside. Giving the pile a quick sort through, it all seemed to be male, which presumably meant that no female ever stayed here – a thought that pleased me far more than it should have done, and one that I shoved to the back of my mind with a scowl. It didn’t matter if he had a girlfriend, wife, or even a flipping harem of women hanging on his every word, his relationship status really should be none of my concern.
Piling the clothes on the dresser I stubbornly stayed in my own damp attire for the time being as I grabbed my handbag and pulled out my phone to dial my mum. The signal was low, but it rang, which was a relief as it meant the snow wasn’t completely blocking the phone signal. The answerphone kicked in, so with a slightly sad sigh I left a message explaining the situation and telling her where I was before promising to call back soon.
I really wanted to hear another human voice – other than the raspy, sexy one that I could find somewhere in this house, of course – so I then called Sarah. After all, she was the reason I was in this mess in the first place, the least she could do was fill me in on who the heck this guy was – and explain why she hadn’t informed me that the shift I was covering for her was at the home of a
demi-god.
Once again I got a ringing tone, but disappointingly, after eight rings her phone also went to answerphone. Where was everyone today? Surely they were all at home and snowed in like me? Or was the weather only bad up here in the hills? Huffing in frustration, I left a brief message wishing her a speedy recovery, and telling her to call me as soon as she could, and hung up. Damn it, I’d really wanted to pump her for information on my unintended host.
Looking miserably at my phone I fiddled with it for a second or two before deciding that I still had the urge to talk to someone other than myself. Scrolling through my numbers for my other best friend Caitlin Byrne – or Cait as she preferred – I smiled at what she would make of the guy I was staying with. She was super shy, so would no doubt be even more of a wreck around him than I was.
Cait, Sarah, and I had known each other since high school. We’d lost touch and gone our separate ways during college, but then bizarrely all ended up on the same teacher training course in Manchester. It wasn’t long before we were an inseparable trio again, and after making the effort to keep in contact we had stayed firm best friends ever since.
Sarah’s teaching career was short lived when she got pregnant during the last year of the course. It was unplanned, and unwanted by the father, who promptly buggered off never to be heard from again, thus proving my theory that he had been a horrid human being all along. Refusing to let it get her down, Sarah had worked hard since then at several jobs, before recently setting up the housekeeping business, which was now going rather well.
As for Cait and me, as well as the three years of teacher training together, we had managed to get our first teaching jobs at the same school in Buxton, but had both quickly realised that perhaps the profession wasn’t quite what we’d expected. Too much unnecessary paperwork for a start, not to mention the political crud that got in the way of actually enjoying the time in the classroom with the children. While I had stuck it out, Cait had barely managed to last the first year before quitting and heading off to travel around the world. Her departure had been spurred by the pressures of the job, but she had also been keen to escape from her then-boyfriend, Greg, a complete shitbag of a man who deserved to be behind bars for what he’d put Cait through during their time together.
To be honest, when I thought about my few experiences with the opposite sex I had been rather lucky compared to my two best friends.
What had started off as a three-month expedition of self-discovery and healing for Cait had expanded somewhat, and it had now been three years since she’d left the UK. As far as I could tell from our regular phone calls and occasional flying visits home, she had no intention of returning long-term either. While travelling, she had discovered that her talent for art could actually pay the bills, and so she’d starting working in various places she stayed. She’d built props for the Sydney Opera House, helped to redecorate a monkey sanctuary in Borneo, and was currently teaching outdoor art lessons to orphans in Vietnam.
Pressing the call button I sat impatiently, picking at the hem of my jumper as I listened to the call attempting to go through. Since Cait had been in the Far East, our phone chats had been less frequently, as we were often let down by the unreliable connections. Today, however, after several clicks and a beep, I heard the ringing tone and smiled happily.
The phone rang for quite some time, and I was just about to hang up when it connected and I heard Cait’s voice. ‘Allie! Hi! Hang on a second, OK?’ This was followed by several loud noises and a constant pattering sound which almost sounded like a river or stream rushing in the background. Was she swimming? Surely not with her phone? There was another bang, and then several squelching noises before Cait came back on the line. ‘Hi! Sorry about that.’
She sounded breathless, which added to my overall confusion and had me frowning as I spoke. ‘What on earth are you doing?’
‘Trying to escape the rain!’ she laughed. ‘We’re getting a late monsoon storm, but I was up with the kids at the orphanage when it started so I had to run back to my hut before the ground got too swamped. You wouldn’t believe it, it’s absolutely falling down.’ I could still hear the pattering noise, which I now knew was rain drops, and I smiled, knowing that Cait – Mrs Great Outdoors – would be loving these experiences. ‘Phew. OK, I’m at the hut and I’ve got my muddy boots off. So, how are you?’
Wasn’t that just the question. Rolling my eyes, I flopped back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. I was snowed in, stranded in a mansion, horny beyond all belief, and magnetically attracted to a stranger. That was a pretty succinct evaluation of my current situation, wasn’t it? Opting for a slightly less telling answer, I gave a huffed sigh and explained about the snow and being trapped in the house in the hills.
‘Wow. It must really be snowing then,’ Cait murmured. I could hear the sound of a door closing in the background, and then a happy sigh as Cait presumably sat down in the dry of her hut.
‘It is.’ I sounded gloomy, but I couldn’t help it, especially not when I pulled the curtain back and saw just how heavily the snow was still coming down. ‘Bloody Sarah owes me for this,’ I muttered, dropping the curtain and practically throwing myself on the bed.
The sound of Cait chuckling down the line marginally relaxed me as I threw my free hand up over my head and began absently fiddling with a lock of hair. ‘Did you say the owner is there though?’ she enquired, which promptly erased my relaxed feeling and made me scrunch up my face as images of him in his pyjama clad magnificence filled my mind again. ‘He is,’ I answered vaguely.
‘Well at least you’re not on your own then.’ Cait was looking on the positive side, but the more time I spent here, the harder I was finding it to remain upbeat. I knew my slumping mood was largely due to annoyance over my inability to control myself around the mystery owner, but as boring as it would be, this enforced stay would actually be easier if I were here on my own. Then I wouldn’t keep succumbing to these strange lusty sensations every time I was within fifteen feet of him.
‘What’s he like?’
‘Stunning.’ My hand flew to my mouth as I realised I’d said that out loud. Oops. I’d meant to keep my description a little low key, perhaps something along the line of ‘fairly attractive, but brutishly moody’, but apparently my brain was having none of those pansy descriptions and just blurted out exactly what it was thinking.
Cait giggled loudly on the other end of the line, and I couldn’t help but smile too. I missed her so much. ‘Well, that was certainly a concise description. Is he stunning and married, or stunning and single?’
Pulling in a deep breath, I pondered the question, and realised that I knew basically nothing about him – apart from the fact that he was grouchy, had the face of a model, a body to die for, superb taste in coffee, and was quite pernickety about his parking spaces. But I knew nothing of importance about him. Rolling my eyes, I rubbed a hand over my face – I still didn’t even know his name.
‘No idea, but I’d describe him as way out of my league.’ He was after all, basically a GQ model, and I was a lowly school teacher. ‘I don’t even know his name,’ I admitted. ‘To be honest, I feel a bit in the way being here in his house, so I’m doing my best to avoid him.’
‘Hmmm.’ Cait sounded thoughtful, but then suddenly there was a loud clattering down the line and she gave a small yelp, making me sit up in concern. ‘Cait? Cait? Are you OK?’
‘Bugger!’ There was a further more muffled crash and then I heard a laugh down the line, which relaxed my panicked state slightly. ‘My bloody drain pipe just fell off the roof. God, that made me jump!’ she giggled. ‘I better go. Sorry to cut you short, Allie, but if I don’t get that thing back on quickly, my roof will be leaking like a colander in minutes.’
Disappointed at the briefness of our call I nodded in understanding. ‘No problem. Be careful, OK?’
‘I will, don’t worry, I’ve done it before, I just need to wrestle with the clips a bit.’
‘OK, and reme
mber, it’s not long until April when we actually get to see each other!’ I reminded her, my words making my earlier smile spring back onto my face. April – the date when I was officially ending my career as a teacher to live off my savings (mostly some recent inheritance I’d received from a great-aunt) and make a go at writing full time. I wrote vampire fiction in my spare time, and had recently had a little interest from a publisher which prompted me into giving it a proper go. April was also when Cait and I had agreed to meet in LA to do a little travelling together. I literally couldn’t wait.
‘Actually, I might be home in the next few weeks if you’re around?’ she said, making my eyebrows nearly pop from the top of my head in excited surprise.
‘God, yes! Why?’
‘I’m going to be flying on to my next stop of America, so it seems logical to break up the journey in the UK for a week or so and see my family for a late Christmas. I’m not sure of a date yet, though; need to book my flights.’
‘OK, fantastic. Well, I’ll be here whenever,’ I murmured with a smile. ‘Let me know dates as soon as you can. Bye.’ And with that I heard Cait give a slightly distracted farewell as her attention turned to the job of fixing her roof.
Hanging up, I popped my phone on the bedside table, feeling much better after my chat. I was so lucky to have a best friend like her, and I couldn’t believe I might actually get to see her soon. That overseas call from my mobile had probably cost a small fortune, but it had certainly raised my spirits, so in my mind, it was worth every penny.
There was only so long that my stomach could survive on one banana and two oat bars, so later that evening I cautiously made my way downstairs in search of some dinner. Flinching at the squeak from the kitchen door as I pushed it open, I poked my head inside and warily checked for any sign of human life like some kind of pathetically unskilled spy. What I would have done if the house owner had been inside, I have no idea, because I would have looked like a complete and utter idiot sneaking around, but thankfully, I didn’t have to deal with that because the kitchen was blissfully empty.
