Breaking Her No-Dating Rule

by Amalie Berlin

  “Where are they?”

  “Still in the lobby in front of the blazing fire, but we’re relocating them to the fireplace suites. The lights flickered so I figure we’re going to lose the power and then the central heat will go...so I’m corralling everyone into the fireplace suites, employees too. Doubling up occupancy and stuff. Everything is as under control as it can be, there’s nothing else you could do. Well, unless you know how to fix drywall.”

  “What happened to the drywall?” Mira, unlike everyone else in her world, didn’t have any trouble keeping up with Ellory’s mind—which could be counted on to bear off in another direction without warning during pretty much every conversation. But especially those fraught with emotion and where something unpredictable loomed.

  “Anson punched it. There’s a hole...”

  “This isn’t sounding all that under control, Elle.”

  “I know it sounds all kinds of chaotic, but that’s because I’m condensing hours and hours into a few minutes. He’s sorry about the drywall, but he’s very upset and worried about Jude.”

  Mira nodded slowly, taking it all in. She didn’t even have to ask who Jude was, she just kept up. “The lost skier...”

  “I brought you this.” Ellory fished a spare radio from her pocket and handed it over. “I know you’ll want to be contacted super-fast if there is an emergency. They’re all tuned to the lodge emergency channel, and they’ll be spread out among the patient rooms and rescuers, so anyone in need of help can get it fast when the power goes out.”

  Ellory’s faith in Mira was boundless, and generally that faith extended to the confidence Mira would mirror her own faith. Not many people did that. No one, actually. Not right now, at least. But for a few seconds while Mira considered the radio in her hands, Ellory’s faith wavered. “I can do it, Mira. I won’t let you down. I promise.”

  “I know. I know you can. I was just thinking about whether I’m taking advantage...”

  Relief warmed her and she relaxed, a smile returning. “You’re not taking advantage of anyone, except maybe Jack.” Ellory shook her head, covering her friend’s hand as she teased. “And don’t worry about the hole in the wall. I’ll get Anson all patched up and then I’ll make sure that he fixes the wall or gets billed for putting his fist through it when everything is up and running. And speaking of running, I need to. I have him on my table.”

  “Anson?”

  “He hurt his shoulder.”

  “With the wall...”

  “Well, it was hurt before that. But he made it worse with the wall.” Ellory smiled and gathered up her skirts. “Don’t worry, I’m just going to work on his shoulder. Not breaking my Stupid Resolution! You’re still losing this year, Dupris!” And since the wing was deserted and she wanted Jack to hear, Ellory bellowed, “But that’s okay, your Karmic Love-Jackpot Sex Machine Jack sounds like a good consolation prize!” She backed down the hallway, smiling as Mira’s cheeks went pink.

  Karmic Love-Jackpot Sex Machine was a much better nickname than Number Five, even if it took forever to say. Any man should be proud to bear that title.

  *

  Anson unlocked the door to the massage room and stepped inside, flipping on the lights. It was warm in there. Warmer than anywhere else he’d been in the lodge, except rooms that had steam in the name.

  He pulled the top of his snow suit off again and let it pool at his waist, then took a seat while waiting. Like everywhere else, it was a deeply comfortable room, with plush chairs, stacks of fresh towels, a line of oil bottles and lotions...and the lingering scent of sandalwood and eucalyptus. A hedonist paradise.

  Luxury. Comfort. And he was getting a massage when he should be out looking for the lost skier... No, nothing at all wrong with that.

  Ellory had a point about him being in top shape for when the snow let up, but he was wound so tight it’d be a miracle if she could get him to relax at all.

  He even felt guilty about wanting to relax a little. His rational mind knew how big this storm was, that if they were lucky it would be over in a day, and that he couldn’t spend all the time until then on watch for a break. There’d be no break until it was over. Resting and taking care of the patients until then was the correct course of action.

  He’d be doing something, but he wanted to do something more active.

  And doing anything kept him from having too much time to think about what the man was going through while he was warm, safe, and...resting.

  He stood and headed for a shelf with candles. Light the candles, save time.

  He also lit a stick of incense propped in a holder, because that probably had some kind of peace-making mojo she would insist he needed.

  When he stumbled over a remote control, he turned on music from a well-hidden stereo system.

  By the time he’d gotten everything powered up, the door opened and Ellory walked in, pulling back her long, wavy, sun-kissed locks as she did, and twisting them into some kind of knot at the nape of her neck.

  “So you do want a massage.” She smiled. “Got the candles going for mood lighting, the incense, the music...”

  “I was helping. Speeding things up.” And now he was making excuses. He shut up.

  “Yes, you were helping, but I’m pretty sure there’s only one lightning-fast method of instantly relaxing.” She closed the door, locked it, set her radio on the counter and began stripping. Off came the coat. Then her sweater...which left her wearing a small white T-shirt that had risen up enough to give him a view of the curve of smooth hip to waist before her arms came back down and she was once more covered. “And while that was completely inappropriate, it was payback for earlier. Don’t worry, we’re not doing that.”

  Despite seeing him at less than his best, and witnessing him put his fist through the wall—which he really wasn’t proud of—the little eco-princess was flirting with him. He smiled, felt it, thought better of it and stopped. No wonder the woman liked to go to tropical places. Golden, shapely, and not at all what the media would classify a beach body...in the best way.

  “Why are you getting undressed, then?”

  It might have been years since he had a massage from anyone other than a lover, but he was sure that the only person who got naked was the one getting ministered to.

  “I don’t want to get oil on my clothes.” She tossed the sweater onto the couch. “I’ll keep my skirt on and the thermals beneath, but the sweater’s sleeves are baggy and tend to drag. Oil would ruin it.” A brief pause and she gestured to the opposite corner of the room. “There’s a changing room through there, just strip down and wrap a towel around your waist. Underpants on or off, up to you. And I’ll get...”

  What she was saying registered and he shook his head, moving to sit in a chair, “I don’t need to change. It’s just my shoulder.”

  “Okay. Take off your shirt, then. And your shoes. You’re the only one who didn’t have your toes checked when you came in.”

  “I don’t need my toes checked,” he muttered, that directive enough to pull him out of the fantastic place his mind was going. Perfect little beach body didn’t need to gawk at his ugly feet. But now that he’d seen what was beneath the baggy sweater, he wanted to see what was beneath the flowing skirts.

  “Shirt,” Ellory repeated, done arguing with him for now. She’d work on his shoulder, get him to relax, and then get him on the table. She couldn’t fix his shoulder without having full access to his back. It was all connected. Not that she was going to bring that up with him right now. He was a doctor, he knew full well how anatomy and muscles worked together. He was just being a pain in the butt, and there was no reasoning with a pain in the butt. Logic didn’t win in an emotional kerfuffle and after seeing his display of testosterone earlier she could definitely say he was having an emotional kerfuffle he didn’t want to talk about.

  Out of the corner of her eye she could see him complying. Arms up, material moving... She didn’t look yet. He may have lit incense, and there might be enough
essential oils in this room to gag an apothecary, but with his suit open and body heat escaping, all Ellory could smell was Eau d’Yummy Masculinity.

  All she needed was to start undressing him with her eyes. That would lead to her undressing him with her hands, and then her Stupid Resolution would be shot.

  Distract him. She should talk about something.

  “So, you ever been south of the equator?” And that sounded like another come on. Because he’d turned her hormones on.

  “No, and I’ve never done drugs with a shaman either.”

  “It’s not like that.”

  Eucalyptus. That was a manly smell, and it would overpower the warm, salty awesomeness pouring off him. She snatched up the bottle of oil, a couple of towels and headed his way. “Do you want to lie on the table?”

  “No.”

  She rolled her eyes, and didn’t even try to hide it from him. He countered with a brow lift. “You can reach my shoulder from here.” He did slide forward in the chair so he was sitting at the front edge at least.

  In an effort to save his snow suit from the oil, she shook out two towels, draping one over his lap and tucking the other into the wad of insulated material at his waist, then stepped between his legs and reached for the oil.

  “The skin on your shoulder isn’t bruised, unless it’s such a deep bruise that it hasn’t come out yet. Is that the case?”

  “Doubt it.”

  “Okay, how did you injure it?”

  “Lifting Max. He is good at his job but he doesn’t have the greatest problem-solving skills. Got stuck, couldn’t jump out...”

  “So you picked up a huge dog that probably weighs more than me.” She rolled her eyes again. “Next time, just get his front feet or something. Picking up half a dog is less likely to injure you than going whole dog.”

  “He’s my dog. I don’t like to see him scared or in pain. I’m a little sore, it’s no big deal. I’d do it over again.”

  “Fine. Anyway, it doesn’t look like it’s more than muscle strain.” She drizzled the oil on and spread it around, carefully avoiding looking at his face. Looking a man in the eye was like challenging him, and she wanted him to feel comfortable, not put on the spot. Besides, if he was feeling as vulnerable about this Jude situation as she knew he was, then he wouldn’t want her seeing it. “What should we talk about?”

  Anson shook his head minutely, but didn’t answer right away. Not until she’d started working her thumbs into the corded muscle on his shoulder. “Your spirit quest.” He grunted the words.

  Ellory didn’t particularly want to talk about that either, but a small amount of explanation could keep him from thinking she’d just gone down there for some excuse to ‘do drugs with a shaman.’

  “I needed to try and figure something out, and I believe we’re our own best healers. Your mind and your heart can heal you if you let them. I didn’t want to see a psychiatrist and tell her things I already know, and have her give me some pharmaceutical that might do more harm than good, a pill to dull and pollute. I wanted to get through it on my own.”

  “Did you?” he asked, and did honestly sound interested. She didn’t hear the censure she’d expected. And to his credit he hadn’t yet asked what her issue was, maintaining some respectful distance from that subject.

  “Not all the way. But I figured out that I needed to come home to get right. It gave me a starting point, and it also filled me with wonder for the universe... It’s amazing that the earth gives us plants that allow for this kind of experience. I wish I understood better, but there’s too much going on when you drink it. The shaman said it detaches your consciousness from your body, which sounds all woo-woo and like astral projection—something I’m not sure I buy. But I’m glad I went, despite having more questions than answers. Sometimes the biggest part of solving a problem is figuring out what the right question even is.”

  A soft pained sound escaped when her thumbs hit a particularly knotted area. He tried to cover it with words. “Did you go alone?”

  “No. I went with my last boyfriend.” She tried to ignore how final that sounded, like the last one she’d ever have and from here on out was a lifetime of loneliness. “He wanted to learn to hold those kinds of rituals so he could lead people in their own quests up here in the States, some retreat in Nevada he wants to work at. But I don’t feel like his heart was in it for the right reasons. He was after money, not to help people. That’s no kind of cause. So I left him there and came home. Been trying to work on my quest alone since I got back.” She paused long enough for him to look up at her, establish fleeting eye contact, and asked, “Do you want to talk about Jude?”

  Anson frowned. “There’s nothing to say. He’s still out there, and I’m getting a massage...”

  “So you think you’re letting him down.”

  “Of course I let him down.” The admission came through gritted teeth, which either meant her thumbs were causing enough pain to make him grit his teeth or the situation was.

  She stopped the deep kneading there and stepped forward until his head touched her chest. “Rest against me, I’m going to rub down your back, stretch those muscles out some. That will make it easier to work on your shoulder.”

  “That plan has me pushing my face into your breasts.” He tilted his head back to look up at her as he said it, but his teeth stopped clenching, which she could only consider progress.

  “Consider that a bonus.” She smiled, “But if you ask for a happy ending when your shoulder is feeling better, I may punch you somewhere you wouldn’t want me to punch you.”

  He smirked. “That could be anywhere. I’m not a fan of being punched.”

  “Just of punching. Which is how I know you’re feeling worse than you let on.”

  He leaned forward, burying his face in the valley of her cleavage, and sighed. Still not wanting to talk about it.

  “No motor-boating while you’re down there either,” she said, trying to draw him out of it a little. And it was easy to flirt with him. She hadn’t seen a real smile from him yet and it surprised her how badly she wanted to.

  Her teasing was rewarded with a little chuckle she felt a rumble through her chest to her belly, and his arms relaxed, elbows on his knees, his hands lightly cupping the outsides of her thighs. The innocent touch set off a wash of good tingles more powerful than his face on her chest. She’d long considered the back of the thighs an erogenous zone...

  The tension in his spine lessened. Better. An even better sign that she’d be able to get him to smile later, when she could see it.

  Another drizzle of oil and she pressed her thumbs into the muscle knotting the back of his neck, and stroked down along his spine, making little tight circles with the pads of her thumbs when she encountered a knottier area on his spine.

  “How are you working on your quest?”

  He still avoided the too-personal question, but kept her talking.

  “Meditation. Exercise. Aromatherapy.”

  He laughed for real this time.

  She was going to choke him. “Oh, hush, Doctor Man. You know that smell is one of the most powerful memory triggers?”

  “So you’re trying to recover a memory?” he asked, the chuckle fading from his voice.

  “I don’t know,” she whispered, now that he’d started circling the subject she didn’t really want to talk about. But lying was equally distasteful to her. She thought for a bit and tried to tell the truth while not exposing her tender underbelly. “This will probably sound all depressing, and I’m not depressed—I just haven’t really been happy for a long time. Not truly happy or content. Doesn’t matter what I do, even the highs I’ve gotten from volunteering and doing good things don’t do much or last very long any more. It’s started to feel like penance, and I don’t know why.” Which was part of it, but it still left her feeling vulnerable. She’d been hiding this from everyone.

  Anson leaned back again, putting enough space between them to look her in the eyes.

&nbs
p; Exposed. She felt exposed the way he looked at her, and aware of an unpleasant cold feeling in her chest. She looked away. “You want realigning.”

  *

  Anson couldn’t read her expression, but he knew a thing or two about living a penance-filled existence. There was such vulnerability to her honesty that it hit something inside him and made him want to help, to fix whatever was making her unhappy. She put on a good show. Had she not said those words to him, he might never have guessed.

  “I need realigning,” he repeated, no longer sure he was speaking of his spine.

  “Right here.” She pressed on the muscle that had seriously bunched up just below his shoulder blades, the pain proving her point. “T7 and T8 vertebrae. I can fix it if you get on the table.”

  She wanted to help him, and he’d let her. Maybe it would help her feel better too. “Fine, but I’m leaving the thermals on.”

  Her smile reappeared, though now he didn’t know how real it was and how much was for show, even though he believed she wanted to help. She stepped back, pulling the towels with her and giving him room to move around. A pause to remove his boots, then he stretched out face down on the padded vinyl table.

  Before he could protest she swung one leg over his waist and he was caught by warm thighs and an overwhelming desire to roll over. Her small hands pressed into the muscle on either side of his spine, walking up and down a few steps until the vertebrae reseated with a loud crack.

  Task done, she patted his back, climbed down, and left him thankful she couldn’t see what the intimate position had done to him.