by Dale Mayer
She smiled sweetly and said nothing.
He didn’t trust her. Taking the spot next to her, he leaned his head back and waited. But she surprised him by letting the subject drop.
She sipped her hot drink, stopped, and sipped again. “This is really good.”
That was an understatement. But he sipped his, just glad to be under cover and safe. The wind was picking up and sure enough, there’d be a snowstorm again tonight. Then again, that’s partly why they came here. Winter playtime.
Only so far there hadn’t been much fun.
*
Unbelievable. He couldn’t understand how he’d gotten so lucky. Unlucky to begin with then lucky. And he’d stick with the lucky part. It was crazy good, but at the same time he couldn’t hold his hot rum toddy in his hands as they trembled so badly it would be noticeable. And this wasn’t the time for a show of nerves.
Unless they were nerves of steel. Odd that he was reacting to today’s close call so badly. Why this time?
Because it was the closest anyone had come to his space. His private space. He never shared that part of the mountain. Well, except for one other. That person understood a part of him. He loved to snowboard down that strip, climb the frozen waterfall, and enjoy his surroundings.
He never intended to share that pristine wilderness.
If Stacy went back up…oh yeah, he’d heard her talking about it…well, she may have gotten off lucky today, but if she went back there, she’d not have the same luck the second time.
He’d make sure of it.
Chapter 30
Stacy took her bowl back to the kitchen and filled the sink with hot water. She’d do the dishes now in case she crashed early. She could feel her energy disappearing with the tick of the clock. Too many shocks and adrenaline rushes today. Her system was on overload and would shut down soon.
She could feel it draining with each dish she washed. Finally, she was done. She needed to talk to Royce about what she’d seen and what she’d thought she’d opened up there, but she knew he wasn’t going to be receptive and she wasn’t up for the fight.
If she went to bed soon, she could take a look at the pictures she’d taken. There were some from the other day and others from today.
She visited for a few minutes longer and then said good night. Within minutes, she was ready for bed and climbing the stairs to the loft. Alone, she pulled out her camera and started flicking through to the set of images she took earlier. She wished she had her laptop or tablet but she didn’t, so she could only look on the small screen. Not ideal.
She shifted to the images she took today and went back and forth several times, trying to figure out what she’d seen. After a few moments, her eyelids started to droop.
With the images still up, she crawled into bed and studied them. When she couldn’t hold the camera anymore, she closed her eyes and rested. There was something bugging her. Something she wished she could pull out from the back of her mind.
But she was too tired.
As she was drifted off to sleep, she heard someone climbing the stairs. Royce. Her eyes flew open. Or was it? Her muscles tensed as she waited.
He was so quiet, she wasn’t sure. She rolled over so she could look at him. And found Royce staring down at her.
“Hey.” He sat down on the side of her bed. “I hoped you’d be asleep by now.”
“I was looking at my pictures,” she said sleepily. “See if I could figure out what was bugging me.”
“And did you?” He reached out and stroked his fingers down her cheeks, soothing, caressing.
She made a tiny movement of her head.
“See? It’s probably not there.”
She gave a sleepy smile. “Maybe.”
“So forget about it right now. And sleep.”
“Can’t. I keep seeing the image in my head.”
He reached down and picked up the camera, flicking through the images one by one. He stopped at one, then another. He held up the one and turned so she could see what he was looking at. “This one?”
“No.” She grabbed it and moved through the images again. “These.”
He looked at the images, and then down at her before turning to study the images. He turned it slightly, frowned, slipped to the next one, and then the next one. Finally, he sat back. “Huh.”
“Yeah. What do you see?”
“Maybe a cave behind a thin layer of ice. Maybe nothing. Maybe a person.” He looked at her again. “What lens did you have for this? It’s super close up, but I’ve never seen anything this clear.”
“I took those that day you were watching, waiting for me.” She pushed herself up on one elbow and twisted so she could point out the first image. “I have a wonderful zoom that I used to get these. You can see magnification with each image.”
“I can. And this last one is close but not enough to make anything out. This is why you wanted to go today and see that area again. Did you figure it out when you were there today?”
“No. I was hoping to, but then I fell.”
“How close to this blackness were we when you fell?” he asked, studying the latest images with a frown on his face.
“Almost right on top.”
*
Royce studied the pictures, his frown deepening. He wasn’t sure he liked any of this. There was definitely a dark spot. It could be a woman. Why would anyone be there? It was likely just a trick of the light.
But he didn’t like it.
If someone was hiding, why? Was he hurt? Or in trouble? She’d taken these days ago – was it the man they’d found dead? Had he been caught there like that? Or was it someone with a cabin close by? Their cabin was remote, so it was all too plausible that there were others around.
What was there?
Now that he could see what Stacy had seen, he wanted to go back, too.
He settled back slightly and couldn’t take his eyes away from her. “Do you think this has something to do with Yvonne’s disappearance?”
She winced. “I don’t know. What I do know is that if there is a space there, a person there, maybe she was too.”
“Honey, you can’t save everyone.”
He reached down and pulled her into his arms. He held her closer, cradled her in his arms, and held her tight. “We’ll talk about it in the morning. And I don’t want us going up there alone. There might be someone in trouble who needs our help or there might be someone causing trouble. We don’t go alone. Got it?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” He lay her back down, “Now get some sleep.”
He leaned over and kissed her. She threw her arms around his head and chest and pulled him closer.
Just like last time, heat flashed out of control as she pressed herself against him, her hands hungry as they held him close.
His lips plundered and she was greedy in response.
God, he’d never gotten enough before. And he didn’t think he could get enough now. She was dynamite. And for once, she was his.
She heard snickers and laughter from the group below. She motioned with her head, her gaze regretful.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
Her lips quirked. “Me too.”
“Go back to sleep,” he said quietly. “Tomorrow is a new day.”
She shifted to the far side of her bed and threw back the covers then patted the space beside her.
His eyes lit up.
“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice low, his gaze searching.
She nodded. “I’m so tired you won’t disturb me.”
He stood up and returned to his bed, where he quickly got changed. Leaving his clothes on his bed, he returned to her side of the loft and slid under the covers.
He tugged her up close to his chest and shifted them both so they fit on the bedroll and with each other. She smiled, snuggled in, and closed her eyes.
Listening to her soft breathing as it deepened and slowed, he realized he didn’t want to sleep. His body needed it. His min
d and heart, however, didn’t want to miss this moment. He was afraid he’d wake up and the last day would be a dream and she’d still be holding him at arm’s length.
Right now, with her in his arms, he was happy.
*
Look at them. All of a sudden they were a couple. Just like that. From enemies to lovers. He couldn’t hear anything from the loft at this point, but knowing they were up there together made his blood boil. He tossed back his laced hot chocolate and smiled at the others. “All right, I’m going to turn in. I’m tired myself.”
“We all are,” someone murmured from the corner. He couldn’t determine which of the three crashed males had spoken. They all were stretched over the furniture as if the thought of getting up and shifting to beds was the last thing on their minds.
“You’d all get a better night if you slept in your beds and not on the couches.”
“Mmm,” came a mumble from the corner.
“Your loss.” He walked past the splayed legs, and he wasn’t sure, but that looked like Kathleen asleep on the floor.
Whatever.
The more trusting they were, the easier it would be to set his plans in motion.
Except he needed sleep himself. Then he’d take the next step.
Chapter 31
Sometime in the middle of the night, Stacy woke to heat, fire, and ice. Warm hands inside the back of her shirt and a chill to the air.
She opened her eyes, shifting back slightly to look at Royce’s face. And saw a dark warm gaze staring down at her. “About time you woke,” he murmured thickly and lowered his head.
With her arms around him, she abandoned herself to the moment and his embrace. He deepened the kiss. Her lips parted, letting him inside. She moaned, the tiny sound catching in the back of her throat.
“Shh,” he whispered, his lips trailing down her cheek. “It’s after midnight. The others are asleep.”
Her gaze widened and she froze. The heat from his breath bathed her neck and throat, sending shivers down her spine. She thought about protesting – until his wicked fingers slid around her ribs before climbing a little higher. When his hand closed around her breast, she gasped and arched.
“Shh.”
The effort to hold back when her nerves were screaming into awareness was excruciating. He bent his head and took her nipple into his mouth and suckled.
She whimpered once, twice, then again, her body twisting in the dark of the night. She couldn’t hear anyone else up, but she couldn’t really hear anything over the pounding of her heart and the rasp of her shirt as he lifted it up and over her head. Cold air hit her fevered body. She wanted him. Oh God, she wanted him. She slid her hands down his hard body, realizing he’d already divested himself of all clothing.
She wanted to explore him as his hands were making mincemeat of her. In front of her own eyes, she was turning into a mewling kitten desperate for more. She stroked his back, his chest, and his long powerful arms before sliding down to his buttocks where they rested for a long moment, loving the feel of the muscles hard and hot beneath her fingers. He shifted his attention to her breast as his fingers slid down to the curls already damp with need, her pajama bottoms having somehow disappeared long ago. She parted her thighs, giving those devilish fingers access. And shuddered with the effort of holding back her cries as he gently parted the folds and slid one finger in. She dug her nails into the taut muscles of his back, tugging him closer.
He shifted, settling himself between her legs.
She gasped, her back arching, his lips coming down on hers to hold her cries in. He settled in such a perfect spot and yet…not. She almost couldn’t bear it.
Supported on his elbows, he slid his hands up to hold her head still while he dropped kisses on her chin and nose as she wiggled frantically beneath him. He kissed her again, but it was tiny teasing kisses…so not what she wanted.
He held his hips back and away just enough…
Enough. Her hands eager and hot, she slipped her fingers between their bodies to stroke him.
“Oh no, you don’t,” he whispered, reaching down to grab her hand. Instantly she lifted up and kissed him with all the passion she’d kept pent up.
He shuddered, pulled her hand up to rest on the pillow beside her head, and sank into her willing, waiting, wet body.
She opened her mouth to cry out her joy. Instantly he sealed her mouth with his own. He stroked in and out, slowly, lightly. Going a tiny bit deeper each time.
She lost track of time. She couldn’t see anything. She could only feel as her body raced to the end of the road. It knew what was coming, knew the end would be something glorious, and she couldn’t hold it back. Couldn’t prolong the moment. It. Had. To Be. Now.
Her climax ripped through her. Silent. Powerful. Explosive.
She floated in the rainbow of sensation, dimly aware of Royce’s own explosive release before he collapsed down beside her. She slipped her arms around him, holding him close.
“Are you okay?” he said a few moments later, worry in his voice. He kissed the corner of her eyes and she realized that she was crying. Tears of release. Tears of relief. Tears of rejoicing.
Best thing ever.
*
So good. Royce lay in bed listening to Stacy’s heavy breathing as she slipped back into dreamland. At least he hoped her dreams would be sweet and joyful. He knew his would be. He was so damn happy right now. Emotion swamped him and he held back the sudden burning in the corner of his eyes. But damn it, he wanted to cry. For joy. She’d never left his heart. He’d wanted her back in his arms for so long. Wanted her back in his bed for so long. His arms squeezed convulsively.
She murmured a gentle protest. He immediately relaxed and dropped kisses on her head, “It’s fine – sleep,” he whispered.
She snuggled closer and broke his heart.
He had no idea what time it was. The cabin was dark. He couldn’t see the top of the stairs from where he lay, and no light shone from the windows below. And he’d have seen a lightening in the room if it was dawn.
There were a few sounds below. An odd rustle. Someone snoring. That made him grin. That would be Stevie. That guy could move mountains with the force of his snore.
There were a few other gentler noises, but nothing out of the ordinary.
With Stacy slumbering gently in his arms, he felt his own worries slip away. Surely they were all safe for the night?
*
They’d never be safe.
Or maybe it was more a case of some of them would rest forever. Soon. At least one of them.
It was all in the planning and the execution. The reason he hadn’t been caught – he was careful. Damn careful and no matter the temptation, he’d wait until the timing was right to make his move. In the meantime, he’d continue to imagine the possibilities.
After all, an artist was only as good as his or her imagination.
And he’d never come up short yet.
He wasn’t about to start now.
Chapter 32
Stacy couldn’t keep the smile off her face the next morning. George teased her mercilessly. Thankfully he kept it generic so not everyone would know but from the hidden grins, most did. Stevie had given her a hug in the morning, an unusual thing for him to do.
He’d whispered in her hair, “Another one bites the dust.”
She hadn’t been sure if he’d been referring to her or to Royce. She’d hoped Royce, considering the laments Stevie had poured out over the years about losing his boarding buddies to women. More to the point, the women had usually added to the men’s life, but to Stevie there was something completely male about going to the mountain and blasting down at psychotic speeds in conqueror mode.
Not that she saw him as a conqueror type. But he did. She could see Royce fitting that role. She perked up. Maybe he had. That would be a good thing in her book. He was on his way to becoming a lawyer. Something he never advertised. It was seriously hard work and few recognized it. He’d also had a
later start than most.
Stacy understood. Getting her degrees had been nothing short of brutal – but with a difference – she’d at least enjoyed the knowledge, the learning, the problem solving. And puzzles. She’d always loved puzzles as a kid. They’d been a highlight on her Saturday evenings to do one with her grandpa. Nostalgia hit as she thought about those evenings so long ago.
Her gramps had died close to ten years ago now. His death had hit her harder than expected.
Then there’d been more deaths, like her aunt, followed by her grandmother. All older people, all dying well past the first bloom of life.
She shouldn’t have been as distressed by those deaths as others, but they’d had an accumulated effect that had been blown out of proportion with the sudden and tragic loss of her friends.
Her job was separate from her personal life. She excelled in death at work and was terrified of it at home. She’d become a workaholic, burying herself in death to avoid the reality what death really was. She was sure a shrink would have a heyday with her crazy mindset. But death at work was fine. Death at home was not. She honored death at the one so she didn’t have to deal with it at the other.
It was as if she’d gone into this line of work thinking that would garner her a special pass from death in her private life.
When it hadn’t, she’d felt betrayed.
Stupid.
But enlightening. She’d have to ruminate a little longer. Maybe find another few truths that were a little too close to home for comfort but were the better for being brought into the light.
“Thoughts?” Royce asked beside her. She threw him a sunny smile. “Nothing special.”
He quirked an eyebrow but she turned away. Most of the others were going to try and find some sunshine and empty runs before the day became too busy. They’d all decided to try for one more day and see if they could leave on a good note.
George had called the hospital to check on Yvonne, but she was in a coma. Still, she was alive. That’s what counted at this stage. She’d pulled through the night, and every night extra gave her body a chance to heal.
