Everything she’d experienced with Sean was fresh in her mind, and Kate couldn’t help feeling disloyal to the husband she had lost. As much as she had loved her husband, Kate was forced to acknowledge that Sam had never made her feel what Sean had. During her marriage, Kate had assumed that it was her own fault that somehow, something was lacking that kept her from experiencing the mind-shattering orgasms her friend Molly loved to describe in intricate detail. Of course, a part of Kate had always believed that Molly was exaggerating. Now after last night, Kate realized she owed her friend an apology. And her brain was jumping from one thought to another.
Her subconscious was probably doing it on purpose to keep her from focusing too much on what happened next. What was she supposed to say to Sean? How was she supposed to act?
“I smell coffee.”
She whipped around to watch Sean walk into the kitchen. Her heart gave a hard thump, and Kate took a breath trying to calm that stir of something hot and wonderful that happened with a single look at him. His black hair tumbled across his forehead, his blue eyes were narrowed. He wore black jeans and a white long-sleeved shirt, unbuttoned. He hadn’t bothered to pull on his boots, and Kate couldn’t have said why she found the fact that he was barefoot so damn sexy. But she knew without a doubt that she was in serious trouble.
“Coffee’s almost ready,” she said, focusing on the job at hand rather than the gorgeous man headed toward her with a long, slow stride.
“Good. Need the caffeine.” He leaned one hip against the counter and crossed his arms over the chest she wanted to stroke like a kitten. “You wore me out. Who knew once I got you out of that tool belt you’d be so...insatiable?”
Heat and memories rushed through her again, tangling together in her mind. “It was quite the surprise for me, too,” she muttered.
“Re-al-ly?” He drawled that word into three syllables.
“It’s not that big a deal,” Kate said, snatching up the now-ready coffeepot and pouring each of them a cup. She needed a second or two to gather thoughts she’d only been considering for the last few minutes herself. Insatiable. She had been. And that had surprised the heck out of her. “I just never really cared that much about sex is all.”
A half smile tugged at the edge of his mouth. “But you have such a talent for it.” He paused thoughtfully, then asked, “So it must be that your former lovers weren’t very good.”
Kate snapped a look at him. It was one thing for her to reconsider the intimacies of her marriage, but she wouldn’t stand there and let Sean insult Sam’s memory. “He was just fine, thanks.”
“Just fine?” Sean laughed shortly, took a sip of his coffee and said, “Fine is not a word you want to use about sex. Cookies maybe, but not sex.” He stopped, straightened up and looked at her in disbelief. “Wait a minute. You said he. You’ve only been with one other guy?”
A new tidal wave of guilt roared over her, making Kate think she’d drown in that dark, dismal sea. Yes, before Sean she’d only been with her husband. Sam’s smiling face rose up in her mind and Kate’s heart ached. She couldn’t talk about him with Sean. Didn’t want to hear sympathetic noises or see a sheen of pity in his eyes. Kate didn’t even talk about Sam with her friends or her father, so she wouldn’t consider it with Sean. She was dealing with Sam’s loss, but she was doing it her own way. “I don’t think we need to discuss our pasts. Unless you’ve got something you’d like to share...”
It was gone so quickly, Kate couldn’t be sure she’d seen it at all. But there was a flicker of something dark in his eyes. Apparently, he was as protective of his own memories as she was of her own. Well, good, then he would understand.
“No,” he finally said, “we don’t have to talk about the past.”
Relieved, Kate nodded. “In that case, why don’t we talk about the future instead?”
In a blink, his features went stiff and tight, his eyes glittered wildly with a typical sort of blind, male panic. “What future?”
Laughter shot from her throat, startling her and making Sean scowl in response. His expression only made her laugh harder and boy, it felt good to let go of the guilt, the awkwardness and the morning-after conversation.
“What’s so damn funny?” he demanded.
Still laughing, Kate held one hand up in a silent request for time to get herself under control. Sean waited, but he wasn’t happy, as evidenced by his scowl deepening.
Shaking her head, Kate realized that for the first time since awakening in Sean’s arms, she felt like herself. Nerves were gone, that odd sense of guilt mingled with regret had faded away and she remembered exactly who she was. She didn’t have to walk on eggshells around Sean because they weren’t in a relationship, so to speak. They were each strong individuals and as long as she kept that in mind, she could handle whatever came next.
Laughter, though, continued to spill from her in a long, rich torrent until she struggled to catch her breath. Looking at Sean didn’t help because he looked so...irritated. Men were just amazing, she told herself, amusement continuing to bubble in her mind.
Sean was a prime example. He’d done everything he could to get her into bed...well, sleeping bag. Then the following morning, all she had to do was say the word future and she could practically hear him stepping on the metaphorical brakes. She was only surprised he hadn’t tried to leave—blizzard or no blizzard. He was no doubt assuming she had visions filled with white picket fences and rosy-cheeked children. Her laughter faded away as she recalled that she’d had those very dreams once. And then they died. She had no interest in resuscitating them.
When she had the laughter under control, she said, “Relax, Sean. I’m not expecting a proposal and a vow of eternal devotion. God, you should see your face. You look like you’re ready to chew off a cartoon ball and chain from around your ankle.”
“That’s ridiculous.” If anything, his frown deepened as he took a long drink of coffee. “And I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sure,” she said, shaking her head as she sipped at her coffee. “You stick with that. Anyway... I was talking about the hotel’s future, not ours.”
He stiffened and pushed away from the counter with a move that was too studiedly casual to be real. “I knew that.”
“Please.” She laughed again, waved that away and took another hit of her coffee. “When you walked in here, you were braced for some emotional meltdown from me. You figured I’d throw myself at your feet and beg you to marry me or some weird thing.”
“Weird?” His eyebrows lifted.
“Well, you have no worries on that front,” she assured him, meeting those icy blue eyes squarely. “I’m not interested in a husband and if I was, it wouldn’t be you.”
He just looked at her for a long minute before blurting, “What the hell’s wrong with me?”
Kate laughed again. “Wow. Now you’re insulted.”
“No. Yeah. I guess I am. Why wouldn’t you want to marry me?”
“Let’s see,” she said thoughtfully, tipping her head to one side to look up at him. “For one thing, your first thought was to bolt out of the room when you thought I might be swooning over you.”
“I wouldn’t bolt,” he told her stiffly. “It’s snowing.”
“Uh-huh. For another, you’re irritating.”
“Ha!” He flashed a quick grin. “Hello, pot? This is kettle. You’re black.”
“Funny,” she admitted. “Fine. We irritate each other. Good enough reason to steer clear. Another is the fact that you’re California and I’m Wyoming. Not exactly geographically desirable. And then there’s the fact that anytime I see you in some magazine, you’ve got a hot blonde with boobs bigger than her IQ on your arm.”
“That’s sexist,” he pointed out wryly.
“I’m a woman. I can say it,” she said. “Face it, Sean. You�
�re just not marriage material. You don’t want a permanent woman and I have no use for a permanent man, so why on earth would I want to marry you?”
He looked at her for a long moment, then set down his coffee cup and reached for her. She went willingly enough because hey, Kate already knew how amazing he could make her feel.
“All very logical,” he said, nodding. “Good points, too. But you left one thing out.”
“Yeah? What’s that?”
“Sex,” he said with a shrug. “Between us, it’s incredible.”
“Not enough to build a marriage on and why are we still talking about this?” she asked.
“Because I want you to admit you want me.”
“I do—just not as a husband.”
“I can live with that,” he said, one corner of his amazing mouth tipping up into a smile that tugged at something deep inside her. Kate felt herself melting. Sean Ryan was so bad for her. Maybe that’s why she was enjoying him so much.
His gaze fixed on her mouth, and she licked her lips in anticipation. When he bent his head and kissed her, she sank into it. This thing between them was powerful, energizing, and she would be a fool not to take everything she could from this interlude before her world went back to normal.
* * *
A few hours later, the memory of Kate’s laughter was sharp and bright in Sean’s mind. He hated knowing that she’d been right about his reaction when she talked about a future. It was knee-jerk for most men, probably. They were, as a species, fairly suspicious, waiting for a woman to get that white-picket-fence gleam in her eye. A man had to stay wary just to make sure he had time to make a clean getaway.
Sean had had it happen to him too many times to count. Every casual relationship he’d ever been in had eventually become a tug-of-war centered around marriage. He knew what the women were thinking—a wedding. Kids. Access to Sean Ryan’s fortune. Was it so surprising then that he immediately assumed that Kate was no different?
But, of course, she was, he told himself grimly. Not only was she not interested in snagging him into some kind of relationship, but she also found the very idea laughable and that just annoyed hell out of him.
“The snow’s getting to you,” he muttered. It was the only explanation, Sean thought. “Being trapped with a woman like Kate is bound to make a man a little nuts.”
She was like no one he’d ever known. She filled his thoughts, tormented his body and, at the moment, was working him like a slave driver. Sean was used to running meetings, winning over clients and snagging huge market deals. He had meetings. Dinners. Drinks with a client at some exclusive restaurant.
What he wasn’t accustomed to was swinging a hammer. He’d already helped her pull up linoleum in one bathroom, tear down some hideous paneling in what would eventually be the first-floor game room and now he’d been tasked to tear up some—God help him—shag carpeting in one of the upstairs suites. He tightened his grip on the worn, wooden handle, slid the claw top beneath the edge of the faded floor covering and pried it loose.
Carpet tacks gave, and Sean tossed the hammer aside to grab the rug with both hands. He pulled it up as he backed across the room and coughed at the years of dust flying into the air. It was hard, dirty work, and he was getting a new appreciation for the men and women who did this kind of thing daily.
Women like Kate. When he first met her a week ago, Sean had seen only the coldly efficient shell of the woman. She knew her job and wasn’t afraid to stand up to Sean when she believed she was right. He’d admired that even while arguing with her.
Now he knew more. Knew the heat of her, the passion bubbling right beneath the surface. Knew that even while she gave herself to him, she kept parts of herself locked away. It surprised him to realize how much he wanted to know what she was hiding. And why. She would close him out expertly at the slightest threat of getting too close.
Like you? his mind whispered.
Scowling, he told himself that everyone had secrets. Everyone had pockets of regret or guilt or misery tucked away that were rarely brought out to be inspected. His were his own business—hell, even Mike didn’t know about them—and so he would leave Kate with hers.
What lay between them was desire born of convenience. That was it. So he’d work, he’d sleep with her and then when they finally got the hell out of this damned hotel, he’d go home. Where he belonged and where he could put this whole situation into perspective.
“Nice job.”
She moved quietly. He turned to look at Kate, standing in the open doorway. Sean didn’t want to admit, even to himself, what seeing her wearing a damn tool belt did to him. She looked confident and too damned sexy for his peace of mind. Her worn jeans hugged her legs, the hem of her tunic sweater hung to her hips and her boots were as scarred as his own. The tool belt that was currently driving him insane fit her as undeniably as diamonds might another woman.
Man, he was losing it fast.
“Thanks,” he said wryly. “But pulling up old carpet doesn’t take a lot of finesse.”
“Just time and effort,” she agreed, then walked into the room and skirted around him and the roll of carpet. She went down to one knee to examine the wood floor that had been hidden beneath the ratty carpet. “Looks good,” she mused, more to herself than to him. “I was hoping for this. Hardwood, even battered and scarred like this, can be sanded and brought back to life a lot cheaper than buying new floors throughout.”
Nodding, he watched her stroke her fingertips over the wide planks with the same gentleness she’d used to caress his chest. His body stirred, and he gritted his teeth, ignoring the flash of heat.
She whipped her ponytail back out of her way and glanced at him. “If all the floors look this good, we’ll be saving you a lot of money.”
“Always a good thing,” he agreed.
She stood. “I’ve got the rugs in two other rooms rolled up and their floors are nearly perfect, so I’m hopeful. What I’d like to do now is check out the basement, see what we’ve got down there.”
“Didn’t you already do that when you made your first inspection for your bid on the job?”
“Sure.” She shrugged and rested one hand on the hammer hanging from her belt. “But it was a quick look, mainly checking for foundation issues. Now that we’ve got some time...”
He laughed shortly. “Plenty of that.”
“Exactly. We can look at it and see what improvements can be made.”
One eyebrow winged up. “We’re done pulling up carpet?”
“I just wanted to get an idea of the shape of the floors. The rest my crew can do when the storm’s over.”
One glance at the window told Sean the snow was still swirling like a thick white veil. “If it’s ever over.”
“It will be. I’ve been through these storms all my life.”
“Not me,” he said with a sigh born of missing the ocean, the sand, the sea breeze. “I’m a surf-and-sand kind of guy.”
“You’ll be back to it soon,” she told him, and their gazes locked for one tension-filled moment. “For now, though...the basement?”
“Why not?” He shrugged, following her as she headed downstairs, and his gaze dropped unerringly to the curve of her behind. Whatever else the woman was, she had a great butt and the ability to work him into an inferno without even trying. He had to admire that even while it made him a little crazy.
“The banisters will have to be tightened,” she said over her shoulder. “The base is loose and you don’t want it wobbly.”
“Absolutely not.” He gave said banister a shake and felt it wiggle under his hand. Right again, he thought, then told himself this was why he’d hired her in the first place. Kate Wells had a reputation for being a perfectionist when it came to her work, and that was something he understood and approved of.
She hit t
he bottom of the stairs and headed across the great room, where the fire still burned against the constant chill in the room. Through the kitchen and into the butler’s pantry, she opened the door to the basement and started down the stairs.
The light spilled from two overhead lamps, illuminating a wide room that was empty but for a line of dated washing machines and dryers. There was a workbench along one wall and a pegboard above it, just waiting for someone to fill it with tools. The floor was cement, the windows were narrow and high, blocked now with piles of snow. The walls were cement blocks, which only seemed to magnify the cold outside the building.
“I always thought basements were a little creepy,” Sean said to himself.
“Agreed,” Kate said, throwing him a quick look as she pulled out a measuring tape and laid it down on the floor as she walked off the space. “But they don’t have to be. Still, having the laundry down here doesn’t seem real handy for the housekeeping staff.” She paused to make note of numbers on a small memo pad she dug out of her tool belt. “Especially since they have to come and go through the kitchen.”
“You’re right.” Nodding, he glanced back up the stairs before reluctantly admitting, “I wouldn’t have thought of that. But if the kitchen staff is busy, then having housekeeping coming and going will make everyone’s job harder than it has to be.”
She made a few more notations, then wound the tape back into its shell. With it tucked away, she inspected the block walls and said, “A little insulation down here would make it more livable.”
“Another good idea,” he said. “Do it.”
“That was easy.” She looked at him. “And since you’re being so reasonable, what do you think about moving the laundry facilities to the old owner’s suite? It’s on the other side of the hotel, opposite the great room, and there’s plenty of space for water and electrical hookup, plus worktables for the folding or ironing or whatever is needed.”
Snowbound with the Boss Page 6
