by Meg Benjamin
Her head fell back as she looked up at him. His face was set, his shoulders taut with the effort of moving against her. She brought her hands to the sides of his face, stroking her fingers down his cheeks, feeling the slight prickles of his whiskers against her skin. “Paul,” she whispered again. “Ah, Paul.”
His face darkened and drew tight, and then he thrust deep, driving into her so that he touched deep inside and brought her with him. She wrapped her legs tight around his waist, tipping herself back to take him in.
“Monica,” he groaned. “Oh sweet Monica.”
She clung to him, wrapping him tight against her as the waves broke again and again, subsiding finally as she gasped for air. Her heart rate slowed to something that felt like normal. He turned his head against her hair, kissing the tip of her ear then settling his head in the curve of her neck and shoulder.
“Good,” he murmured. “More than good. I’ll think of the right word later. Bed is definitely good.”
“Later,” she echoed. “No more talking.”
He chuckled softly. “Bossy.” His arms closed around her, pulling her close again. “Sleep now.”
Her eyes drifted shut as she rested her forehead against his shoulder. He’ll have to leave before morning. The words floated through her mind just as she felt herself sliding over the edge into sleep.
Of course he would. But they’d think about that later, when she wasn’t so warm and happy and satisfied.
Which would, of course, happen soon enough.
Chapter Seventeen
Paul lay still, staring at the ceiling of Monica’s room, trying to figure a way he could stay a little longer. Already the sky outside was turning gray. He couldn’t see the clock without moving, but he figured it must be close to four thirty. He couldn’t stay longer than another twenty minutes or so or he’d risk being seen when he left.
Part of him didn’t give a crap if he was seen. Leaving her wasn’t as enticing as the feel of her soft body in his arms, her warm skin against his own. If he stayed, maybe they could make love another time before the sun came up. And then they could drive down the mountain and grab some coffee and a Danish, spend the day walking around Salt Box, learning more about what made each other tick.
Except that they couldn’t do that, of course. He had to go back to the Bachelor House and pretend to be happy that Ronnie had spared him for yet another round of counterfeit courtship. And Monica had to pretend to give a damn about what Ronnie decided to do next. Whatever might happen in the future, they both had jobs to consider right now.
Which sucked on multiple levels. Sooner or later he’d have to figure out what to do about all of this.
He sighed, pressing his lips against her throat. “Monica,” he murmured.
She turned against him, muttering.
“Monica.” He slid his hand down her side, marveling again at the milky smoothness of her skin. “Babe, I have to go.”
Her eyes drifted open and she smiled up at him drowsily. “Who are you again?”
Paul grinned. “Very funny. But I should probably get out of here before somebody sees me leave.”
She sighed, burrowing a little farther into his arms. “I guess.”
He closed his eyes. “Do you want me to stay?”
“Yes, but you can’t.”
His turn to sigh. “I guess.” He kissed her hair lightly. “Can we get together tonight?”
She pushed the confusion of curls off her forehead. “Maybe. Probably. I don’t exactly remember what we’re doing tonight. I think it’s the spa.”
“Another date?”
She sighed again. “Oh yeah, another date. But it’s not your date, it’s Billy Joe’s.”
“Terrific. Maybe he’ll charm her into cutting me.”
“Maybe.” She was smiling now, all drowsy curls and sleepy eyes.
He’d never wanted more desperately to make love to a woman in his life. And he had to duck out before he gave in to the temptation. He kissed her lightly one more time, then pushed himself to the side of the bed, searching for his pants. “Okay, count on it then. Let me know when you get off. Can you call me or is that breaking the rules?”
“It’s probably breaking the rules, but I’ll call you anyway.” She ran her finger down the bumps of his spine as he leaned over to tie his shoes. Every muscle in his lower body went on high alert.
His turn to sigh now. “I’ve gotta go, babe. We both know it.”
“I know.”
“But I’ll be back. Swear to God, Monica.” He leaned down to kiss her, hard.
Her hand drifted to the back of his head, holding him down as she nipped at his lower lip.
He blew out a quick breath. “Christ, woman, you don’t make it easy.”
“Was I supposed to?” She gave him one last, lazy grin.
“I guess not.” He leaned down again, kissing her lightly on the forehead. “Go back to sleep, babe.”
She yawned, running her hand across his chest as she burrowed back into the covers. “I believe I’ll do that.”
He opened the door a crack, checking the hall, but it looked like no one was up at that ungodly hour. Which, of course, was the whole point. He stepped out, closing the door as silently as he could, and moved quickly to the stairs at the side. He figured at this point he was safe even if someone saw him leaving since he could have been anywhere inside the hotel. But he still cracked the door at the bottom of the stairs before he stepped out.
Still dark. Still empty. Still cold. He could hear some fanatical songbirds warming up as he trudged back along the trail to the Bachelor House, but no one else seemed to be awake. Just as well. He didn’t have a lot to say to anyone at the moment.
Sooner or later, he’d have to figure out what exactly was happening between him and Monica. Sooner or later, he’d have to decide what to do about it. Because they needed to do something about it—that should be obvious. But right now, he didn’t want to think. He was still enveloped in that rosy glow of terrific sex that might disappear if he prodded at it too much.
The living room of the Bachelor House was empty. Not even Faisal would get up this early. He headed back toward his room, now truly his since Lex had left for more comfortable quarters downtown. Once inside, he sat down at the narrow desk beneath his window, pulling out his cell phone.
He’d had it turned off since he’d gone to meet Monica. He wasn’t particularly excited about turning it on now, but he figured he had to do it.
Three missed calls. Two from Cathe.
He went to voice mail and listened to her snarl. He’d talked to her a couple of days ago, just to tell her he had nothing to tell her, but Cathe had never been good at taking no for an answer. Plus now that the earlier episodes were being broadcast, she’d undoubtedly figured out he was one of Ronnie’s bachelors. She’d assume he’d be able to give her a lot more inside information. Hell, she’d not only assume it, she’d demand it.
You need to end this. Unquestionably. The tricky part was figuring out a way to do it without bringing Cathe’s wrath down on the innocent, mainly Ronnie but possibly Monica.
Monica. He rubbed his fingers across his forehead, closing his eyes. He should probably get some sleep. The cameras would start rolling after breakfast when the crew showed up to do the interviews. It looked to be a long day.
But with any luck, that day would be followed by an even longer night.
Monica’s day had been more harried than usual since Glenn had decided to switch dates from the spa to the mountaintop restaurant, a place that usually had a long waiting list for reservations. She’d spent a couple of hours cajoling and pleading until the restaurant manager had given in and found a table for them. Then she’d had to put up with Glenn’s snarls when Ronnie had flatly refused to ride up in the gondola unless Monica came with her. Apparently, Ronnie had both motion sickness and fear of heights. How having Monica around was supposed to make this better wasn’t exactly clear, but Monica figured anything that moved producti
on along was worth encouraging.
Now she sat on the porch at the restaurant, watching the sky turn pink then purple then blue-black.
This job sucks. The thought drifted through her mind suddenly, her stomach knotting as it did. She took a quick breath, willing her muscles to unclench. So what? You’re working when a lot of other people aren’t. You’re in the business even if it isn’t the part of the business where you wanted to work.
Her mantra. Suck it up!
Her muscles stayed tight. Apparently she was a lot better at pep talks when she gave them to other people than she was when she gave them to herself.
Think about it later. Her second mantra. Only later never seemed to come.
At least the manager of the mountaintop restaurant had given them a great table. Situated on the outer deck, it had a view of the gradually darkening sky out across the valley. Ronnie had insisted on being seated with her back to the view so that she wasn’t constantly reminded of how high up she was, but once that detail had been taken care of, everything seemed to be working fine.
Of course now that she’d delivered Ronnie to her dinner date, Monica had nothing left to do. She considered asking Glenn if she could go back down, but she knew better. Now that she was up here, she had to stay. If she called Glenn’s attention to her presence, he’d probably have her scrubbing pots in the kitchen.
Besides, who knew? Ronnie might need someone to ride down with her too.
The smell of food from the restaurant reminded her that she’d had nothing to eat since breakfast. She thought about asking the manager if she could get a sandwich, but she knew better than that too. After all the trouble she’d put him through, she seriously doubted he’d be interested in giving her anything to munch on.
She wandered down the steps to the open area at the top of the ski run, covered now with grass and wildflowers. Groves of pine trees lined either side of the slope and stretched along the top, separating one run from the next. Above her, the peak of Elkhorn Mountain was silhouetted against the darkening sky. She walked a little farther away from the restaurant, gazing out at the blue-black distance. Behind her, the sunset still turned the western sky shades of pink and gold.
Perfect. The most romantic spot in town. If only she wasn’t up there in the company of a cranky director and a harassed film crew, she’d be one happy lady.
At least she didn’t have to watch Ronnie up here on a date with Paul. Tonight was her night with Billy Joe.
She strolled on beyond the first line of trees, listening to the breeze whisper through the aspens. If she didn’t hang around the restaurant, they couldn’t expect her to be a gofer for the rest of the evening, could they?
Of course they could. “Monica,” Sid called from behind her, “Glenn needs you to work with Ronnie.”
Sighing, she plunged her hands into the pockets of her sweater and headed back. Maybe Ronnie needed someone to cut up her meat. It was a sure bet Billy Joe wouldn’t do it.
Paul hadn’t really expected Monica to call. At least not this early in the evening. Even so, he’d hoped she might be able to get away, if only for a quick dinner before she had to go back and be Ronnie’s nursemaid.
He sat in the living room of the Bachelor House, such as it was. Since there were only three of them now, the general camaraderie had definitely diminished. Brendan strolled into the room, sandwich in hand. “Hey,” he said, “you want to go for a beer?”
Actually, now that Paul thought about it, a beer would be a good way to pass the time. “Sure. Down at the Blarney Stone?”
Brendan shook his head. “I want to head over to that tavern next to the gondola station. That way we can see ’em when they come back down.”
“See who?”
Brendan gave him a long-suffering look. “See Ronnie and Billy Joe and the rest of them. They went up to that restaurant on top of the mountain for the date tonight.”
“Oh.” Which, of course, meant Monica was probably up there too. Maybe he could cut her out of the herd when everybody got back down. Plus the gondola station was within walking distance. “Okay, let’s head on over.”
The tavern near the gondola station was only half full, probably because it was on the mountain rather than back in town. Paul ordered a beer and sat down to wait. Brendan joined him.
“How did you know where they were going for the date tonight?”
Brendan shrugged. “Just asked Faisal. He doesn’t mind telling you stuff. Don’t know why they couldn’t tell us anyway. Not like we could go along or anything.”
“I guess they’re still trying to keep everything under wraps.” Although given the photos the tabloids probably had of Ronnie’s fall at the rodeo, keeping things under wraps was going to get a lot harder very soon.
“Hope that SOB Billy Joe doesn’t try anything. I don’t trust him any farther than I could throw him. Be just like him to get Ronnie alone, away from the cameras.” Brendan stared sullenly at his beer.
“That’s not likely.” Or possible, given that cameras followed Ronnie virtually every moment of her life.
“Wouldn’t put it past him to try something anyway. Slimy bastard,” Brendan muttered.
Billy Joe’s sleaze factor was something Paul happened to agree on. After a week in the Bachelor House, to say nothing of a couple of days in Salt Box, he’d already concluded that Billy Joe had the makings of a first-rate man-whore if he continued the way he was going. Which he seemed very likely to do.
Outside he heard the shush of the gondola cable moving. “They’re coming down.”
Brendan turned to stare up at the slope. The gondola car floated along with a dull whirring sound, entering the station across the square. He pushed himself to his feet. “Let’s go.”
Paul frowned. “They may not want us there.”
“Screw that.” Brendan’s eyes narrowed ominously. “I’m going over there.”
Paul wondered just how many beers Brendan had had before they’d hiked over to the square. He hadn’t bothered to check before they’d arrived.
The gondola car drifted to a halt inside the station, and Paul watched members of the crew emerge. No Monica, but then there probably hadn’t been room for her, given the amount of equipment they were unloading.
Three cars later, he was beginning to feel the first stirring of concern. Ronnie stood at the side talking to Billy Joe in front of a bank of lights and Faisal’s camera. Brendan hopped impatiently from one foot to the other just out of range.
“When are they gonna finish?” he muttered.
“A few minutes.” Paul did a quick inventory of the crew. Sid was standing at the side. He headed in his direction.
Sid glanced up at him, palming a Tums as he did. “You’re not supposed to be around here.” He sounded more perfunctory than annoyed.
“Where’s Monica? Wasn’t she up there with you?”
“Monica?” Sid frowned. “Yeah, she was here. Wasn’t she in one of the other cars?”
Paul shook his head. “She hasn’t come down yet.”
Sid was frowning more definitely now. “She’ll have to come down soon. They’re getting ready to shut down the gondola for the night. We were the last ones out.”
“Shit,” Paul muttered. He headed toward the booth where the gondola operator worked.
The man regarded him warily. “Yeah?” he said into his microphone.
“There’s one person unaccounted for in the television company,” Paul said. “She may have gotten stranded at the top.”
The gondola operator shrugged. “There’ll be another run in a half hour or so to get the restaurant staff down. She can come then.”
“She may not know that,” Paul said with a patience he didn’t really feel. “I need a ride up to look for her.”
The operator frowned. “We don’t let people back up there after eight.”
Paul gritted his teeth. “This is an emergency.” If he got up to the top and found Monica having a beer with the restaurant crew, he’d be tru
ly pissed.
After a moment, the operator shrugged again. “Okay. But if you get left up there overnight, it’s your problem.”
“Right. I’ll remember that.” He stepped back toward the loading area as the gondola motor whirred to life again.
“What’s going on?” Ronnie looked away from Billy Joe, her forehead wrinkling.
“Monica didn’t come down. I’m going up to look for her.” Paul narrowed his eyes at Faisal, willing him not to swing the camera his way.
“Oh my God,” Ronnie said, slapping a hand against her cheek. “Maybe she’s lost. Maybe she’s off in the forest somewhere.”
“She’s probably fine,” Billy Joe muttered. “We’re not quite through here, sweetheart.”
“But we can’t let her wander around up there at night.” Ronnie’s voice was plaintive. “We’ve got to go back and find her.”
“It’s okay, Ronnie,” Paul said quickly. “I’ll go up and see what happened.”
“But we could help you.” Ronnie blinked several times. Something about the way she was standing, one hand resting for balance on Billy Joe’s shoulder, told him she’d had a lot more champagne than was probably good for her.
“Let him handle it, sweetheart,” Billy Joe said in his best alpha male voice. “You don’t want to go back up there in the dark.” He put his arm around her, pulling her back, so that she staggered slightly. “Not unless you take me too.”
Faisal swung his camera around to catch the moment. Paul had a feeling Brendan was gnashing his teeth. He stepped quickly into the gondola car and let the attendant close the door before anybody else could decide to help him out.
The distant lights of Salt Box glimmered at the other end of the valley as the car floated upward. The forested slopes spread below him, dark and steep. Pines rose like spikes along the edges of the ski slopes.
On reflection, he sort of hoped Monica was having a beer with the kitchen crew. It was preferable to some of the alternatives that were beginning to occur to him.
The car slid into the mountaintop station and he stepped out, walking down the steps to the restaurant. Outside, the exterior lamps reflected on the slopes, casting a circle of light perhaps ten feet from the entrance.
