by Sheryl Lynn
“I never meant to hurt you.” She reached for his hand. He entwined his fingers with hers. His skin felt like crisp paper. “Pinky made me feel like a failure. He threatened you. I’d rather die than let anything happen to you.”
His mouth curved in a gentle smile. “Your mother claims you and I are cut from the same cloth.”
“I consider that quite a compliment.”
“As do I.” He squeezed her fingers. “I’m ashamed of placing my pride before your well-being. I am proud of you. Your performance is outstanding.”
She risked revealing her deepest heart wound. Not speaking about her failed marriage had become a habit, but the concealed truth was like an imbedded splinter, festering and souring. She wanted him proud of her in all things. “What about Eric?”
He looked away, and the smile thinned into a grim line. “I’m certain you had good reasons to leave him.”
Her eyes burned as if filled with hot sand. Her throat ached. Pride was her flaw as well as his. Out of pride, she’d allowed him to think the worst of her. Perhaps, she considered, her refusal to confide in him had hurt him worse than the divorce. “He dumped me.”
“Speak up. What did you say?”
She licked her lips and cleared her throat. “I said, he dumped me. I never wanted a divorce. I loved him. I knew we could work out our problems, but he wouldn’t try.” She withdrew her hand, her head bowed beneath the weight of old shame. “He threw me out. I was always too embarrassed to tell you.”
He handed her a tissue. She dabbed at the corners of her eyes.
“I thought Eric and I were forever, but after the accident he changed. He stopped believing in me, stopped trusting me. He wouldn’t give me a chance to work things out.” Looking back with a more mature perspective, she realized her ex-husband had feared being less than a man. He’d rejected her not because he hated her, but because he hated himself. “I felt like a failure. A reject. Sometimes I still do.”
The colonel called her ex-husband a foul name, his demeanor so defiant she didn’t dare chide him about his language. “Your mother claims I am, at times, unapproachable. I suppose I have no one to blame but myself.”
She lifted a shoulder. “I guess I’d rather have you mad at me than feeling sorry for me.”
He loudly cleared his throat and looked away for a moment. In his silence Janine found a measure of peace. When he stood, she impulsively hugged him. He stiffened then hesitantly patted her back.
“I love you, Daddy.” She pressed her cheek against his scratchy sweater, which smelled of laundry soap.
“I, uh, ahem, I love you, too. You say Walter inquired about me?”
Janine squeezed his ribs and stepped back. “And he’s richer and meaner than ever. How did a nice guy like you ever end up with a brother like that?”
He lowered his most disapproving glower on her. She laughed and poked his arm with a stiff finger. “You know it’s true. He’s out there smoking cigars. Stinky, nasty cigars in front of the kids! You need to counsel him on proper behavior.”
She hooked her arm with his, and they strolled out of the office. She teased him about his younger brother, knowing his grumbling and gruffness hid laughter.
IN THE LOBBY, Daniel looked around for Janine. He assured himself Brian was Pinky, and he was safely in custody in Colorado Springs, far from any opportunity to make trouble. Still, nagging unease plagued him. He wouldn’t stop being uneasy until the fingerprints proved conclusively that Brian was the culprit.
Kara had other plans for him. Despite her ditzy mannerisms, she was sensitive to the tension between Daniel and Janine. She seemed to have made it her mission to set things right. She kept him circulating in the lobby and lounge, introducing him to her relatives. “This is Janine’s boyfriend,” she announced. “He owns two martial arts studios.” Not bothering to clarify the situation, he made small talk. With the exception of a stout, grouchy old man Kara called Uncle Walter, everyone was friendly.
Daniel grasped Kara’s hand, “Excuse me, kiddo. I need to find—”
“There’s Bob and Bobbi! The coincidence is an incredible hoot. Roberta and Robert Robertson. Can you believe those names?” She dragged him across the floor and introduced him to her cousins. Within minutes he knew Bobbi Robertson was an artist; Bob Robertson was an engineer; their daughter wanted to be a model, since she stood nearly six feet tall.
Daniel spotted Janine. She and her father entered the lobby, arm in arm. The colonel bent to whisper something in Janine’s ear and she laughed. The intimacy of the gesture warmed Daniel from the inside out, building hope. If she could make up with her father, maybe she’d make up with him.
An icy draft rushed through the lounge. Wind howled and snow swirled through the open front door. A figure appeared in the doorway. Snow and ice crusted his legs to his knees. Clumps of snow dripped from his hat. The lenses in his glasses were fogged, making him look bug-eyed. He lurched a wobbly step, grabbed the door and pushed it shut. He slapped his bare hands against his sides.
“Who in the world is that?” Kara mused.
“Not a relative?” Instantly suspicious, Daniel looked the stranger up and down. He stood around six feet four inches tall, and swayed as if the wind still battered him. Melting snow and ice pooled at his feet.
Kara trotted across the floor to greet the man. He clumsily tugged his glasses off his face and blinked myopically at her.
Daniel strode toward Janine. She stared past him and her mouth went slack. He followed her stare.
“What is he doing here?” she whispered.
“Who?”
She scowled and raked both hands through her hair. “Elliot.”
Daniel eyeballed the stranger with heightened interest. This was good old, comfy Elliot? Kara helped the man out of his coat and aided him in brushing snow off his trousers. A tweed sports jacket hung from slender shoulders. His hair was sandy and lank, cut short. He looked like Ichabod Crane.
“I am going to kill him,” Janine muttered, and stalked across the lobby.
“Darling!” Elliot cried. He slid his glasses back on his face. They immediately fogged. “The weather is horrible. I’ve been on the road for nearly five hours. Then my car slid into a ditch. I had to walk a good half mile in the blizzard. I thought I was going to freeze to death.” He pulled a handkerchief from inside his jacket and wiped off his glasses.
Daniel sneered. What kind of man carried a hankie these days? Despite his height, there wasn’t much to the man. He was skinny, and his hands looked soft. Not much muscle tone.
Kara peered suspiciously at her sister. “You two know each other?”
Arms crossed, chin lowered dangerously, Janine nodded in affirmation. “Elliot Damsen, my sister Kara.”
“Very nice to meet you, Kara—at long last.” He reached for Janine, but she stepped out of reach. “I braved a blizzard for you, darling.”
“Which speaks poorly of your intelligence. What are you doing here?”
“I’m here to see you. Our little tiff was ridiculous.”
“Maybe to you.” She glanced over her shoulder at the crowd. No one seemed to be paying much attention. “Go home.”
“My car is in a ditch.” He rubbed his reddened hands briskly. “Besides, I believe the highway is closed.”
She loosed a long sigh. “Do you have a change of clothing?”
“I wasn’t expecting to get caught in a blizzard.”
“Kara, find him something dry to wear. And get him a cup of tea.”
“Loose black darjeeling, brewed four minutes,” Elliot said. “With honey. Raw honey. I can’t abide anything processed.”
Daniel curled a lip. He couldn’t fathom what Janine saw in this guy. But the fact that Elliot had braved a major storm to be by her side said he felt their relationship was anything but casual. Daniel slipped an arm around her slender waist. Feeling her disapproval, he smiled and stood his ground. The gesture wasn’t lost on Elliot. His mouth fell open.
He thr
ust out a hand. “Nice to meet you, Elliot. I’m Daniel Tucker. Too bad you came all this way for nothing.”
Elliot tucked his right hand into his coat pocket. “The karate fellow.”
Before Daniel could formulate a snappy retort, Janine pulled away. “You’re dripping,” she said. “Get warmed up. Then I’ll speak to you in my office.” She stalked away.
“Yeah, a drip,” Daniel muttered. He followed Janine.
Once in the privacy of her office, she turned on him. “How dare you act like a jealous boyfriend!”
“I am jealous.”
She gave a start. Her mouth formed a fetching O. She began twisting a hank of hair around her finger. “You have no right.”
“So what?” He advanced on her. She backed around the desk. “We have an issue or two to work out, but we’ll do it.”
“I haven’t the slightest interest in pursuing a relationship with you.” She struck the chair and sat down hard.
“You’re lying like a dog.” He clutched the chair arms, trapping her.
She shoved at his wrists and tried to peel back his fingers. “Get away from me!”
“Look me in the eyes and say that.”
“I will not tolerate this, this—bullying!”
“Says one bully to another. You’re not scaring me off this time, honey.”
She clamped her arms over her chest. Fire crackled and snapped in her eyes. Straddling her legs as he did put him in a vulnerable position. He suspected she knew it. If she kneed his groin, he’d consider it a small price to pay for the pain he’d caused her.
“I made a mistake,” he said.
“You’ve made a lot of mistakes.”
“So I’m human, sue me. But if you don’t accept my apology, you’ll make the biggest mistake of your life.”
She bent a wrist and touched a finger prissily to her chin. She batted her eyelashes. If not for the seething anger radiating from every pore, the gesture might have been coquettish. “You’re right, I’d miss out on a night of wild sex with you. My goodness, how shall I ever recover from the regret?”
“One night, huh? Is that all you want?”
“That’s all you want.”
He recalled saying something to that effect. Eating those words tasted nasty. “I lied.”
“It didn’t sound like a lie.” Her shoulders relaxed and she dropped her gaze. He wanted to flutter kisses over her tender eyelids. Hold her close and never let her go. “You let me down, Daniel. I needed you and you acted like a jerk.”
He withdrew from the chair. Resting his backside against the desk he regarded her glumly. He’d known he made her angry and felt bad about it. Her wounded feelings made him feel lower than a worm.
“I began to believe you knew me. Understood me. I thought when you looked at me I was more than just a pretty face. I thought you were different.”
Her accusations hit home. He cringed inside.
“I work hard at not repeating my mistakes,” she said, her voice low and sure. “I don’t deny the attraction I feel for you, but acting on it would be a mistake.”
“It’s not just physical attraction,” he protested. “It’s deeper than that. You know it.”
“I don’t know it.”
Her stubbornness frustrated him. He’d been in reasonably long-term relationships. He’d dated more women than he could remember. He’d been through breakups and making ups. Never once had he begged. He wanted to beg now, throw himself at her mercy, toss out his pride. Grovel. Squirm. Eat dirt.
“You know what your real problem is? It’s not that people don’t understand you. You’re afraid someone will get to know who you really are.”
“That’s absurd!”
“Is it?” He flung out a hand. “You hide behind this office. Behind those power suits. That cool businesswoman air. You hide from your own family. Do you realize what you did when Debbi was nice to you yesterday? You actually blushed. You don’t know how to act when people treat you like a human being.”
“That’s...absurd.”
He stabbed a finger at her. “I know you’re human. I know you bleed just like the rest of us mortals. That’s the real problem, isn’t it? I got under your skin and you just can’t stand it.”
“Shut up.” She pinched the bridge of her nose.
“And that you’re-so-beautiful thing? The part where I only care about you because I’m smitten by your beauty? In case you haven’t noticed, you might be Miss America, but your little sister is Miss Universe.”
She gasped.
Her open surprise heartened him. “Kara is one incredibly beautiful young lady. Those long legs, that hair, those eyes. She’s the stuff dreams are made of.” He wolf whistled. “Your other sister isn’t bad, either. I haven’t seen an—um, rear end like that in a long time. Hate to say it, honey, but you don’t have a lock on the gorgeous department.”
The fire faded, and good humor softened her eyes. She covered her mouth with a hand. “You’re a wretched man,” she whispered through her fingers. “Do you honestly—?”
Juan Hernandez poked his head into the office and tapped on the door. “Ma’am?”
She swiveled the chair. Her knee brushed Daniel’s. Electric shocks of pure desire arced along his nerves. They hadn’t resolved anything, yet; he resented the intrusion.
“Yes, Juan, what is it?”
He leaned wearily against the doorjamb. Moisture turned his dark blue parka black. Pearls of water quivered on his mustache and eyebrows. He looked exhausted. “The snow’s winning, ma’am. It’s coming down faster than we can scoop it up. Got ten-foot drifts out there.”
“Oh, dear. How much snow is there?”
“A good four feet and it’s still coming down. It’s worse than that storm we had back in October. The temperature is six below and dropping. The wind is gusting at forty miles an hour. Trees breaking right and left.”
“Have you told the colonel?”
“I was on my way, but saw your door open. I can’t keep my boys out there any longer. They’re beat and they’re cold.”
Janine flipped on a radio. A weather reporter dubbed the storm the Friday the Thirteenth Blizzard. Up to six feet of snow covered some mountain areas. Colorado Springs reported two feet of snow at the airport. The state patrol had declared chain laws in effect over Monument Hill on Interstate 25. Highways 24, 50, 160 and just about every other highway through the southern Colorado mountains were closed. The storm had stalled over southern Colorado and the snow would continue throughout the night. Another twelve to thirty inches of snow were predicted.
“All I wanted was a sleighride,” Janine murmured. Half smiling, she chuckled. “All right, Juan, shut down the machinery and get the crew inside. I need you to keep a path cleared to the generator house in case we lose power. Other than that, leave the snow alone.”
Juan left to relieve his crew. Janine looked up at Daniel. “I’ll deal with you later. Right now I have work to do.”
In the lobby she rang the desk bell and called for attention. Voices stilled. “Well, folks, I’m so glad you were all able to make it. It doesn’t look as if anyone else will. We’re snowed in, and the storm isn’t finished with us yet.”
Low murmuring rippled through the lobby and lounge. An excited undercurrent amused Janine. Some of her out-of-state relatives looked at her as if she’d ordered the storm just so they could get a taste of a real Rocky Mountain winter.
“I’ll be moving those of you in the Honeymoon Hideaway into rooms in the lodge. Don’t worry, we have plenty of food. So eat, drink and be merry. Any of you who enjoy cross-country skiing should have a great time tomorrow.”
Elise approached her daughter. “Is the storm affecting the airports in Colorado Springs and Denver?”
“I haven’t heard. But Highway 24 is closed. The storm should be over by morning. The party will go on.”
Seeing her father head toward the east wing, Janine intercepted him. “Where are you going, sir?”
“To in
spect the generator house. In case—”
“I’ll handle the generator and the supplies and seeing to everyone’s comfort. Get back there and mingle. Mom, order him to have some fun.”
She headed for her office, her mind buzzing with the million and one details needing her attention. Elliot called her name, and she winced. Seeing trouble brewing on Daniel’s face, she nudged him in warning. He claimed to know her, so he had better remember she hated public scenes.
Elliot stalked across the floor like a wading stork, each step careful and deliberate. As he neared, she saw he wore socks, but no shoes. The elasticized legs of dark blue sweatpants barely covered his calves. An Elk River sweatshirt billowed over his slim frame. The sleeves were too short. Fearing she might laugh, Janine pressed a hand to her mouth.
“I can’t find shoes for him, Ninny.” Kara turned wide, too-innocent eyes on Daniel. She smiled sweetly. “He wears a fourteen and a half extra narrow.”
Janine knew darned well that, shoes aside, Kara could have found a sweat suit that fit Elliot properly. She slid a glance at Daniel, daring him to laugh. Once certain she wouldn’t laugh, she said, “I’m afraid you’ll have to make do, Elliot. We’re snowed in. Your shoes and clothes will be dry by morning. The road should be open by then, as well.”
The maintenance crew trooped into the lobby. Wet, coated with snow, their faces concealed behind fur-trimmed parka hoods, they toted luggage. Juan waved at Janine. “They was already wearing snowsuits. Told housekeeping we’d clear the Honeymoon Hideaway in exchange for a round of beer.”
“Thank you, Juan. You can put a second round on my tab.” Already thinking about where to relocate guests, she turned toward the registration desk.
Elliot grabbed her arm. His fingers dug painfully between her muscles. “Do not dismiss me.”
Janine saw Daniel’s hand flash, but didn’t actually see him touch Elliot. Still, the man yowled like a stepped-on cat and grabbed his elbow. He hopped from foot to foot. His face turned bright red. Daniel stepped between her and Elliot. He coolly eyed the taller man. A muscle twitched in his jaw.
