Razors Ice 04 - Hot Ice
Page 2
That only left one person.
Phillip.
No freakin’ way. Violet would rather walk a hundred miles in the cold bone-rattling wind than call Phillip Krandall for help. Even if he did drop everything to help her—which he most definitely would not—she’d have to hear all about how irresponsible she was and how she regularly shrugged her responsibilities—which she most certainly did not, thank you very much. She most definitely was not in the mood for her fiancé’s holier-than-thou attitude and longwinded lectures.
Lord knows, she didn’t need one more reason to question their strained relationship. Doubts about Phillip were already accumulating like dirty laundry in a frat house.
Left with no other choice, Violet grabbed her purse and swung open the car door. The wind disagreed and slammed the door shut, nearly smashing her fingers in the process. Violet yelped and sat back in the seat. This was not going to end well. Her office was at least three or four miles away and she might blow away before she even got there. Too bad she’d forgotten to wear her cement shoes today.
Just in case her luck had changed during the last ten seconds, Violet tried Patricia’s number again. Nope. No answer. She wracked her brain for an alternative, but there just wasn’t one. She was going to have to battle the wind and hoof it.
Violet looked down at her thin windbreaker and even thinner polo shirt underneath. Windbreaker, huh? She’d see about that. She zipped up the jacket and a few inches up, the zipper decided to stick. She tugged and tugged and then the bottom section under the zipper split open. She pulled the zipper back down and tried again. Same thing. Instead of zipping the jacket closed, she was zipping it open. This was just her luck.
Giving up the ghost, she left the jacket halfway zipped—which was better than nothing—and took a deep breath. On the count of three, she pried the door open and climbed out of the car. Instantly, the fierce wind cut through the thin jacket and froze her to the bone. She pulled the windbreaker closed and secured it the only way she could by folding her arms across her chest.
The sidewalks were deserted and she half expected to see a tumbleweed blow across the street. She was glad she hadn’t worn a skirt today or she’d definitely be having a Marilyn Monroe moment a la The Seven Year Itch right about now.
Granules of sand pelted her face and eyes. After walking a few feet, her nose and ears felt like they were going to break off.
Violet clutched the windbreaker around her body, put her head down and began the long trudge down the street toward the nearest gas station.
* * *
Jace stepped out of the downtown coffee shop and into the freezing February wind. Burr, it was nippy outside. Red Valley, California was notorious for its sweltering hot summers, cold winters and generally unpredictable weather. It was the perfect location for a hockey team. Good ice in the winter and plenty of local recreational opportunities during the off-season.
Speaking of recreational opportunities, Jace thought to himself, he obviously wasn’t taking advantage of them in the same way his teammates were. It was easy to blame his crazy schedule during the season or his various injuries, but the simple truth was that he just couldn’t shake the bad taste his ex-wife Simone had left him with—even if it was for a quick no-strings-attached roll in the hay.
Jace looked across the street at his SUV parked at the curb and the wind whipped through his hair. Man, it really was cold outside this morning. He was glad he’d found a parking spot near the café and didn’t have to hoof it from the public parking lot a block away.
Just before he decided to make a break for his vehicle, a movement to his right caught his eye. Glancing over, he saw a woman walking toward him on the sidewalk. She looked frozen solid from trudging into the wind and was rubbing her bare hands together in a futile attempt to create warmth. It was easy to tell she hadn’t dressed with a morning stroll in mind. Between her lightweight windbreaker and thin khaki pants, no amount of rubbing was going to penetrate the numbing wind chill factor.
Jace hissed out a breath.
Rubbing? Penetrate? Damn his teammates. Now he had sex on the brain.
As she came closer, Jace eyed the curvy body the woman’s windbreaker was doing nothing to hide. Despite the wind, her stride was confident and her hips swayed with the kind of sensual rhythm that made Jace swallow hard. He could definitely see himself enjoying some recreational activities with a woman like that.
When the woman was within earshot, Jace smiled warmly at her and narrowed his eyes. “Good morning,” he said, the wind blowing his words in her direction.
She continued walking by him, not breaking her stride.
Distress plus damsel equaled…well, Jace didn’t know what it equaled, but he couldn’t stand by and watch someone struggle, especially in the freezing cold.
He turned on his heel and asked her backside, “Hey, do you need a ride?”
* * *
When she realized the man was speaking to her, Violet stopped mid-step and spun around. “Huh?” she asked, her breath coming out in a white puff that the wind greedily snatched away. It was nice having the wind at her back, if even for a brief moment while she found out what the man wanted.
Before he could speak, a gust of wind pushed her toward him. To stop from being pushed smack dab into his chest, she put on the brakes, her toes digging into the sidewalk.
When he closed the distance between them, she looked into his blue eyes. Wow, those were the kind of eyes you only saw looking down on you from a movie screen. The kind that raised more questions than answers.
The wind made her wobble and he reached out and grabbed her elbow to steady her. “Would you like a ride?” he asked. He was holding a paper coffee cup and the steam swirled from the cup, mocking her.
His hand was still on her elbow and he released it when she steadied herself. The wind whipped her hair into her mouth and he reached out to brush the strands away. The movement was much too intimate to share with a stranger on the sidewalk.
Violet shook away any inappropriate feelings of warmth and intimacy and took a step back. The wind pushed at her back, trying to make her falter again, but she held her ground and pushed the hair from her face.
“A ride? Oh, uh…no thanks,” she answered, pulling her coat tighter around her body. She silently cursed her jacket’s faulty zipper. What was the world coming to? Zippers—not to mention gas gages—had only one function to perform. And today, she was 0 for 2.
She took another step back from the could-be criminal. Hey, a girl couldn’t be too careful, even when a man was as attractive as this guy was.
“You sure?” he asked, looking up at the white sky. “It’s not exactly walking weather.” He gave her his best smile and shoved his free hand into the pocket of his expensive-looking coat.
“I’m just going a couple of blocks,” Violet told him.
He nodded, but made no move to walk away.
Since he didn’t seem to be in a hurry, Violet considered his offer and tilted her head to look him over. He didn’t look like a criminal. In fact, he looked oddly familiar like she’d seen him before, but she couldn’t quite pin-point exactly where. He looked too athletic to be a movie star and what would a celebrity be doing in downtown Red Valley in the middle of winter anyway?
Although he wasn’t trying to look wealthy on purpose, he looked it all the same. His shoes looked expensive, his jeans designer, and his coat was definitely not off the rack. He looked casual, but in an “I could walk right onto a photo shoot and fit in” sort of way.
He had jet black hair that was not too long and not too short, broad shoulders, and a muscular chest. If it weren’t for the scar near his mouth, he might have been too good looking. The scar pumped up his masculinity several more notches and added a roughness to his looks. And the more the wind mussed up his hair, the sexier it looked.
When her gaze reached his eyes, Violet looked into them, searching. For what, she didn’t know. They were beautiful eyes. An intense blue, the co
lor of the ocean around those beautiful remote islands that no one but celebrities could afford to travel to. Then Violet noticed that those eyes were, gulp, looking back at her. Instantly she flushed because he’d caught her right in the middle of her ogle-fest and there was nothing she could do about it.
His full lips turned up into a smile and she couldn’t help but smile back.
She blinked the grit from her eyes and cleared the lust from her throat. “Okay,” she said with a shrug. “I could use a ride.”
The cold must have frozen over the part of her brain where she knew she wasn’t supposed to accept rides in cars with strange men. But the thing was, there was absolutely nothing strange about the man on the sidewalk in front of her. Sexy and potent, yes, but definitely nothing strange.
“I’m parked right over here,” he told her and started across the street.
She followed him, shivering from the cold and unrelenting wind. “I appreciate this.” She barely finished her sentence when she noticed the black vehicle the remote on his keychain had unlocked. It was the Porsche’s version of an SUV, the Cayenne Turbo. Violet’s eyes widened and she whistled. “Sweet ride.”
This man could be anyone, but she took comfort in the fact that at least he didn’t drive a van with blacked-out windows. A Porsche she could justify.
Maybe he was a celebrity after all. If her brothers and dad had taught her anything about cars, she knew that not just any old Regular Joe drove a Porsche.
“Thanks,” he said and climbed behind the wheel.
Violet opened the passenger door and gripped it carefully so that the wind wouldn’t bang it against the parking meter. When she slid into the black leather seat, it molded around her in pure, delicious luxury. The people at Porsche sure knew how to design a car.
When she looked down to secure the seatbelt, Violet noticed her nipples poking through her bra and shirt.
Yikes.
She pulled the windbreaker closed, hoping the man hadn’t noticed her involuntary headlights. No amount of bra padding could stand up to the ferocity of the Red Valley air currents.
When he settled into the seat next to her, Violet noticed how big the man was. He was at least 6’2’’ and probably weighed around 225 lbs. She wondered how she hadn’t noticed him when she first walked by him on the sidewalk.
Oh, that’s right. Because her eyeballs were frozen.
The wind howled outside the car and suddenly Violet was glad she wasn’t outside in the elements anymore. One thing was for certain, the wind hadn’t blown the man’s scent away because she could smell his aftershave from the driver’s seat. It was spicy yet sporty with a hint of the exotic thrown in for good measure.
Like he needed anymore help on the sexiness scale, she thought with a sigh.
His long legs stretched out and he had absolutely no trouble reaching the gas pedal like she did sometimes. Her brothers were always giving her shit about how close she moved the seat up to the steering wheel. “Like an old Granny with her nose pressed against the windshield,” they teased her.
Pushing away thoughts of her pesky brothers, Violet continued her perusal of the man beside her. At the top of the man’s long legs, his coat fell away to reveal muscular thighs underneath dark denim jeans. Violet gulped. He must do a lot of lunges and squats when he wasn’t giving women rides across town in his fancy SUV. His hands were big, too, she noticed and he rested his palms comfortably on the leather steering wheel. Fascinated, Violet watched as he ran his hand through his hair and wondered if it was as soft as it looked.
He started the car—which most likely had a full tank of gas, Violet was sure of it—and cranked up the heater. “Where to?” he asked.
“Uh, Healing Touch on Spruce Street,” she answered, tearing her gaze from his big, manly hands. Sheesh, this cold weather was really wreaking havoc on her system. And her libido. First she’d accepted a ride from a complete stranger and then she had the nerve to blatantly check him out from head to toe like he was some piece of meat at the grocery store.
Indifferent to or unaware of her ogling, the man pulled away from the curb and into traffic. When the warm air from the heater vent blasted Violet’s face, she was relieved to start feeling her extremities. She wanted to crawl into the vent and wait there until winter passed and she could feel her fingers and toes again.
“I really appreciate this,” she said again, basking in the warm air.
“Like I said, it’s no problem. I’m going that direction anyway.”
He had a great voice, too, to go along with those great big hands of his. His voice was smooth and confident and gave her shivers where there shouldn’t be any.
“This is a great car,” Violet commented and pulled her mind firmly out of the gutter.
“Thanks.”
Silence settled between them. The heater was the only sound inside the car and Violet wondered what kind of music he would be listening to if he hadn’t decided to give her a ride. Before she could give it much thought, he broke the silence after stopping at a red light.
“So what’s your story?” he asked. He glanced over at her and his blue eyes pinned her to the seat. “Did you just decide it was a nice day for a stroll?” Just about everyone in California owned a car, so he didn’t think lack of transportation was her problem. “Or are you having car trouble?”
Violet tried to hide her embarrassment, but her cheeks turned a rosy shade of pink. “Car trouble. That’s a nice way of putting it,” she said through a nervous laugh. “It’s kind of embarrassing actually. My car ran out of gas a couple of blocks from here. I was running around doing errands all morning and I guess I lost track of the gas gage,” she explained. The flimsy excuse made her sound like an airhead and she hated herself for it. Her brothers would never let her live this down. Then she just wouldn’t tell them about it. What they didn’t know couldn’t be used against her.
“I’d be happy to take you to the gas station,” he offered. “There’s one on Alder
Street.”
“Thanks, but no.” Violet glanced at the clock on the dash. “I’m on my way to work and I’m already running late as it is.” Great. Patricia was going to tear her a new one for today’s debacle.
“Okay. Well, I’m glad you changed your mind and accepted a ride or you’d probably be a Popsicle by now.”
Violet shivered at the thought. By the time she’d reached him on the sidewalk, she’d already been halfway there. “Yeah. Wasn’t it just 90 degrees last week?”
“Feels like it.” That was Red Valley for you. Northern California was one case of extreme weather after another. “We never get much of a fall,” he pointed out. “Or a spring for that matter.”
So, he was local and not just some out-of-town celebrity who cruised the streets for airheaded women.
Speaking of extremes, Violet was beginning to heat up. Really heat up. Suddenly, a warming sensation spread beneath her bottom and she couldn’t quite figure out how her butt had become so wonderfully toasty. “Huh?” she said out loud shifting around in her seat. Sure, the sound of his voice made her feel all warm and fuzzy inside, but…
He raised an eyebrow at her wiggle worm routine and then it finally dawned on him. “Seat warmer,” he explained with that lopsided smile that notched up her body temperature a few degrees more.
“Oh,” she smiled back. “Thank you. That feels really nice.”
She looked over at him and stole another glance at his face while his eyes were focused on the road. His profile was strong like the rest of him. It looked like he’d shaved that morning, but a dark sprinkling of stubble was already starting to show on his strong jaw. The way his hair fell over his brow made a woman want to reach right over and smooth it away.
Violet shoved the thoughts away and scolded herself. What had gotten into her today? These inappropriate thoughts were unsettling as well as reprehensible. Thankfully, he pulled the SUV up to her office before she could imagine him out of that fabulous coat of his.
 
; He pulled as close to the entrance as he could so she wouldn’t have far to walk. Not only was he a good Samaritan, he was considerate, too. Violet appreciated his thoughtfulness.
“Thanks again for the ride.”
“Not a problem.”
She reached for the door handle, ready to dash for the warm office. She couldn’t bear to lose her core temperature again.
For a split second though, she hesitated to get out of the car. Not just because of the freezing wind outside, but because she liked his company. It wasn’t often she found herself in a fancy car with someone who possessed such magnetism and masculine prowess. But she had to get to work before Patricia had a conniption fit.
Before she could change her mind, she opened the door and stepped out into the wind. What an incredible turn of events. This morning her car had left her stranded and then she’d been rescued by the most handsome man she’d ever seen.
The car door shut with an expensive sound and Violet hurried toward the warm comfort awaiting her inside Healing Touch.
Chapter Three
Healing Touch
When she pushed passed the door of Healing Touch and into the lobby, Violet was instantly surrounded by delicious warmth. As usual, Patricia had the heater cranked up to the Sahara desert setting. It usually annoyed her, but today Violet welcomed the heat after her morning excursion in the bone-rattling cold.
Violet and Patricia had spent the past five years developing and growing their massage therapy practice and Violet still felt a sense of pride every time she saw their logo on the door. When they started out they were barely able to pay their rent space and slowly but surely built up enough clients to break even and eventually make a profit.
Violet had met Patricia at The Muscle Therapy Institute of Northern California where they became quick friends. Between Violet’s passion and natural talent for massage and Patricia’s determination and brains for business, the two had managed to create an oasis of overall relaxation and wellness for the community of Red Valley.