She traced his mouth, his head tipped to the side as she eyed him. “I should have known that bear was a sign.”
“What do you mean?” He struggled to follow her meaning, given her touch was distracting as hell.
“My maternal grandmother was Inuit, and she made a point of sharing mythology as bedtime stories.”
“And what do bears have to do with that?”
Sighing, she settled back. “Supposedly, in our dreams, we’re able to go places we would normally only experience in the afterlife. And certain themes have common interpretations.”
“Like bears?”
“Exactly. The polar bear can signify a number of things, from purity to death, rebirth—or even sexual overtones.” She bit into her sandwich, jam oozing out of the side. She flicked it with her tongue, winking at him.
Laughing, he reached for his sub. “What about grizzly bears?”
“I’m not sure. I’m going with a loose interpretation here.” She licked a smudge of blackberry jam off her lip. “Thank goodness we didn’t see a weasel.”
“What would that have meant?”
“Trouble.”
“Be wary if I have a dream about weasels. Got it.”
“Royce, I have to know.” Naomi set her sandwich down on the square gray plate. She looked at him sidelong. “Is there a femme fatale girlfriend due to show up here and fillet me for being around her man?”
“Around her man” was an interesting way to describe the last few hours. “Are you asking me if I’m single?”
“That’s what I said.” She picked the PBJ back up and bit into it.
“Not quite. ‘Are you single’ is three words. Your convoluted question was more like nineteen words that included someone getting cooked over the fire.”
Chewing, she seemed to carefully consider his words. After swallowing, she shook her head. “I said filleted. That could have been sushi-style, you know.” She winked at him, and a genuine smile revealed her straight teeth. “My mother was half-Inuit. I’m quite handy with a seal knife, just in case you have some vengeful girlfriend looming on the horizon.”
“I’m single or I would have never propositioned you. No lurking girlfriends. Just an ex-fiancée who is now happily married to another guy.” But he didn’t want to think about Carrie Lynn.
“Ah, okay.” Naomi shrugged and then leaned against him to whisper in his ear, “Me too. About the single part, not about the broken engagement.”
Her nearness set him on edge again and he ached to kiss her, to pull her in close and feel those subtle curves against his chest, coax a husky moan from her throat. But he still needed more information before he’d allow himself to do that again.
“And we’re snowed in here together.”
Naomi set the sandwich back down, scooting around to face him on the bed. “How long do you plan to stay after the storm passes?”
“I’m not sure. Depends on when I finish my work. This was meant to be a retreat.”
She nodded, playing with the plate edge, eyes downcast. “Your research.”
Damn. There was something larger at play here. He angled his head and studied her eyes, or rather the way she avoided his gaze. “You know who I am. What I do. More than what I’ve told you.”
She picked at a ragged bread edge on her sandwich. “What makes you say that?”
In another effort not to engage with him, she brought the sandwich to her full lips, took another bite.
Setting the plate to the side, he let out a long sigh. “I’m a smart man. That’s not ego talking, a mere fact of a genetic lottery. Still, it took me a while to put the pieces together because you’re such an incredible distraction. And you’re good at dodging answers. Like now. You’re not denying outright that you know me. You brought me the supplies, so you knew where you were going. But it’s more than that.”
She picked at the crust, making a veritable snowdrift of torn bread. “I do know who you are. Royce Miller, wizard of the pipeline upgrades.”
“And you know this how?” His heartbeat quickened, waiting for the mystery to unravel, the pieces to fall into place.
She lifted one shoulder, wincing. “I heard you lecture once.”
She had asked him more than once about his job and never let on that she knew he was a professor when he told her.
“And that’s all?”
She finally fully met his gaze, those chocolate-brown eyes sharp, honed. Determined and brazen. Too much for a delivery person. “What a curious question.”
“Curious that you’re dodging the answer. Again. You’re not a delivery person. You sound more like a lawyer—Ah, hell, you are a lawyer.”
He couldn’t miss the confirmation in how Naomi braced her shoulders defensively. “Wow, Royce, once you figure something out, you’re on a roll.”
“My question would be, what’s a lawyer doing pretending to deliver goods for a friend?” Synapses firing, he pressed on.
“I didn’t pretend.” She gestured to the plate of food, to the pantry and the two boxes still stacked by the counter, all a result of her so-called delivery.
“You’re quibbling.”
“And you’re a difficult man to meet.”
He met research colleagues frequently. Corporations, on the other hand, seldom could get ahold of him. Which could only mean one thing. A chill coiled in his gut. “You’re with an oil company.”
She nodded slowly.
“No.” A feeling he couldn’t quite name—betrayal, maybe—gnawed at him. Of course. Was this just a new, base tactic in the bid for his brain?
The thought rocked him, causing him to reevaluate that connection between them.
She touched his arm lightly, warily. “At least listen to me, please.”
The pleading in her voice might be a nice rhetorical strategy in the courtroom, but it would not sway him now. He shut down his emotions. He couldn’t afford to be swayed now that he knew what this was about. Cold disappointment weighed on him that Naomi could be so calculating.
His logical side powered to the fore. “I’m not signing my life away.”
“We have so many different ways this could work.”
“‘We’ who?”
“You haven’t figured that out?”
His patience for guessing had been replaced with a demand for answers. This same feeling—the one guiding his speech right now—was what made him a brilliant researcher. He pushed. “Enlighten me.”
He could see the wheels of her mind churning, could almost hear the rustle of thoughts battling in her head. And he knew, this was about more than listening to some lecture he’d given.
She’d played him. And he’d been too attracted to her to see it.
“Okay,” she said, her cheeks puffing with an exhale. She thrust out her hand. “I’m Naomi Steele, officially representing the newly formed Alaska Oil Barons, Inc.”
Five
So much for her no-strings affair with Royce.
The horror on his face after her announcement spoke volumes. But she couldn’t outright lie to him. She’d already been fibbing by omission. That lawyer brain of hers could only justify quibbling so far.
Sleeping with him had been impulsive and, in hindsight, had actually jeopardized her chances of bringing him into the company.
Except something crazy had happened inside her since she’d met him. Business had become more and more difficult to consider. She could only think of him.
And now she’d made a huge mess of things. The happy endorphins buzzing through her after the incredible sex began to fade.
“I assume from the horrified look on your face that you heard me and you’re not happy with who I am.”
The need to check in on him—to make sure she hadn’t dealt something like a killing blow—overwhelmed her. A tinge of guilt pushed at her, knott
ing in her stomach. Her instinct was to touch him, to reach out. But based on the way pain and shock twisted his dark, handsome features, she wasn’t sure if her touch would be welcomed. So, she sat there on the bed and reached for the oversize comfort of Tessie instead.
The Saint Bernard woke up at Naomi’s gentle scratch. Blinking, Tessie looked back and forth between Naomi and Royce. As if she understood the full depth—and unease—of the space and words between the humans, she slunk off the bed, landing on the ground with a decided thunk. The dog knew trouble was coming as surely as Naomi did.
“Let’s just say, Naomi, that I’m...confused.” Scrubbing his stubbled jaw with one hand, Royce leaned forward. Dark eyes trying to read and extract something from her.
He was still talking to her. He hadn’t completely shut down. Not that there was a place to retreat from each other in this igloo. But he could ice her out and ignore her. The fact that he was still talking gave her hope.
“By what, exactly?”
She watched Tessie circle five times before plopping down on the bearskin rug in front of the crackling fire. The orange flames cast warm light on the dog’s shaggy fur.
The rugged domestic scene was idyllic actually. So long as the tension between Naomi and Royce was ignored. The tension she’d introduced so soon after their lovemaking. But ignoring the reason she was there wasn’t an option anymore.
And ignoring it wouldn’t be fair to him, she’d realized somewhere during the conversation over sandwiches. When she’d made her grand plan to deliver the supplies and convince him to work for the company, she hadn’t known anything about him that wasn’t on his official bio. But Royce was so much more than a sharp mind or a valued corporate asset. He was a warmhearted man with protective instincts too strong to let a woman fend off a bear alone. He was an intriguing mixture of the methodical and the spontaneous, a science-loving genius with a wild streak all his own.
“Royce? Confused by what?” she asked again, wondering if he would just refuse to answer.
“What the hell are you doing here? I assume since you’re a Steele, you don’t need to moonlight as a delivery gal.”
“I wanted to meet you. Your work is fascinating to me. I did attend one of your lectures, but you have to admit, you’re tough to find for chitchat.”
“Yet you managed.”
“I’m resourceful?” She paused. “You’re not smiling.”
“What we did here this afternoon? Not chitchatting.” He looked down at her bare legs.
His attention and vague accusation left her feeling exposed. No—overexposed. She wrapped her arms around her waist, his sweatshirt enveloping her body like a hug.
“Yes, well, this chemistry caught me by surprise.” She raised a hand to stop him from talking. “And I swear, if you dare accuse me of sleeping with you for ulterior motives, I will seriously hurt you.”
“It wouldn’t be an unreasonable assumption.”
“Actually, it would be a very unreasonable conclusion. My sleeping with you was a bad idea because it was a surefire way to make you suspicious or turn you against me once you found out who I am. I’m a lawyer—I should have been more logical.”
“A lawyer. You’re that one of the Steele family?”
She bristled at the way the description—the accusation—rolled off his tongue. “Yes, I’m that one.”
In that normally unemotional, unreadable face, Naomi saw a twisting of anger glimmering in those rich brown eyes. His mouth closed tight as if containing harsh words. There was more though. The way he exhaled heavily through his nose, the way he continued to examine her like a witness on the stand... Naomi, who knew how to read people as well as she knew the law, could feel a hint of something within him that looked like frustrated disillusionment. Her meal grew heavy in her stomach, the joy of the day fading.
The buzzer for the dryer echoed in the small room. Tessie’s ears twitched, and then she swung her head around to look at the dryer before chuffing in vague annoyance at being woken again. Truth be told, Naomi sent up a silent thank-you, eagerly exiting the bed to reach for her now-warm clothes. The small distraction might just give her a much-needed moment to regroup.
* * *
Still stunned, Royce didn’t move from the bed when Naomi walked toward the compact stacked washer and dryer tucked away in the closet. Actually, stunned didn’t even cover it.
He studied her, attempting to decipher the intentions of their afternoon burning up the sheets. A helluva introduction. Naomi pulled her clothes from the dryer, but seemed to linger a moment more than necessary at the machine.
A flare of anger rose in his chest. Threatened to bubble to the surface.
Most of all because being with Naomi had been good, damn good. There’d been an instantaneous chemistry there, more powerful than anything he’d experienced with any other woman. And yeah, he wanted to find some way through this mess and back to that.
For now, though, he would execute the most logical plan possible. Which involved putting on clothes. Attempting to shut down the physical connection between them.
Hoisting himself off the mattress, he rummaged in the drawers under the bed, digging for clothes. The house’s space-saving drawers and its overall functional economy had appealed to him—like everything else in this utilitarian space. Because there was no waste. No BS.
Until, of course, Naomi arrived. Then the BS factor exploded exponentially.
Pulling out a long-sleeved T, he dared to add another sentence to the now-uncomfortable quiet. A sentence to gain clarity. “Tell me why you’re here.”
Glancing at her, he watched as she slipped into her panties, the slight flex of her slender legs pushing the reality of their situation to the corners of his mind.
That connection—it still rocked through him. But that was a distraction he couldn’t afford. “Well, Naomi? Use your words, please. You’ve been damn well pushing me to use mine ever since you strolled in here.”
“Fine. I’m here to convince you to work for my family’s company.” Naomi placed her hands on her hips, standing in nothing but her panties and a gray shirt.
Damn. Damn. Damn.
“And that’s it?” he pushed, shelving his attraction for the moment, knowing a moment was likely all the restraint he would be able to muster with her in the same room. “That’s all you’re hiding?”
“Isn’t that enough?” A tinge of regret deepened her words.
He stared at her silently. Waiting. Needing...more? Of what, he wasn’t sure. She messed with his mind in a major way.
Naomi stepped into her silver-studded jeans and shimmied them up, her dark hair falling out of her loose ponytail. “And yes, we want you in the company because of your research. Don’t you want to see it used by a company that cares?”
Working with an ethical company—one that gave a damn—was the end goal. But he would never, ever release his work until it was fully developed. And even then, he wanted to be involved. “I want to make sure it’s ready to be used. And I want control of it. So do you just want the research, not me?”
Naomi sighed, pink lips parting. “Of course we want you, because research is always going to be evolving and you’re the best. But...if you’re not interested in working for a company, then yes, we would settle for an exclusive on what you’ve developed.”
He tugged on his shirt, one arm through the sleeves at a time, processing everything she’d said—and what she hadn’t. “And you haven’t been here trying to gain access to that?”
“I’ll be honest. If it fell under my nose, I wouldn’t look away.”
The hits just kept coming. “Why are you going to such extremes?”
At least she’d shared her actual intentions. A strange sort of victory, considering everything up until now had been lies. Well not lies exactly, but half-truths.
“Seriously, Royce? Your work is tha
t good.” She looked at him through long, sooty lashes.
The fact that they both were fully dressed now evened out this conversation.
“Nice try.” He shook his head. “There’s something else going on here. I’ll ask again, and keep in mind how precarious my mood is right now, what made you go to such extremes to meet me?”
She paused for so long he thought she might not answer.
Naomi sank to sit on the floor next to Tessie and stroked the dog. “I had leukemia as a teenager.”
A stab of surprise hit him. When he’d been growing up, a kid in his elementary class had gone through chemo and radiation. Memories of that coupled with the thought of Naomi being that sick... Damn. “I’m so very sorry you went through that, especially so young. And I’m glad you are sitting here today clearly glowing with health.”
Naomi leaned into the Saint Bernard. Tessie lazily licked her right hand, clearly enjoying the attention—perhaps offering her own endorsement. “You’re the first person who ever put that positive spin on things. They usually focus on the sympathy.”
“You survived.” He knelt beside her. “That couldn’t have been easy.”
“A lot of people don’t. I had great medical care and was also lucky it was caught early. But yes, it was rough.”
Her throat bobbed, suppressing emotions—and memories, no doubt.
Royce attempted to find the thread that brought this all together. But cause and effect with people was a lot harder to discern than with scientific research. “I’m still not making the connection. What does that have to do with you being here?”
“The toughest part was my dad.”
“What do you mean?” He reached out to pet Tessie, aware of the way Naomi’s hand shied away from his.
“My sister and mom died in a plane crash, so he’d already lost one child. I was so scared of what would happen to him if he lost another.”
“That was quite a burden for you to carry so young. And what a time not to have your mother.” His parents had been a bedrock of support for him growing up. He couldn’t help but think about how his ex-fiancée lost her way when her dad died.
The Double Deal Page 6
