The smell of oak trees and oranges surrounded her as he blocked the wind. Colt's hands brushed her sides and held her steady. "What are you doing, woman?"
"Don't call me woman or princess."
"Now is not a good time."
Yeah, there was a storm. Next to him, she unlatched one of the hooks on the blinds. "You weren't anywhere I could see, and I needed to close the blinds. It's a category five."
"It can't get bigger now."
She wavered in her stance. "I'm scared."
"The center is supposed to be far north of here." He unhooked the other side and twisted the bottom of the shutter into the wall. She held it steady as best she could as he hooked the shutters closed. Once he finished, he yelled over the wind, "I'll finish and be inside soon. Go watch Clara."
At least the predictions didn't have them in the line of fire. "Do you have a generator?"
"Victoria Morgan is scared?"
"I already told you that." The wind blew at her back and knocked her into his arms again. "Do you, Colt?"
His chest warmed her backside, but then she lunged herself off him, and adjusted her stance as the wind pelted her.
He turned toward another window shutter. "It's a cat five, but hundreds of miles from here. Let's hope it stays that way."
Her hair flew in her face. "Colt?"
The wind didn't matter now that heat rushed through her. "Yes, I have a generator. Now go in and keep Clara calm. She hasn't survived that many hurricanes."
"None of us have. Colt---" She didn't know what she'd say. At home, she'd have Peter's staff to take care of safety details. At worst, she would have to call and someone would show up to take care of everything. The woodsy smell of Colt calmed her. He stepped further down the house to get another window closed, and she ran inside.
The front door flew open and slammed on the outside wall. Vicki turned around and tugged that door closed. Her muscles ached, but she won. Then she turned around and saw Clara. Her daughter stood in the hall holding a doll's hand. Clara came running to the door, but Vicki turned to use all her muscles to close it. The moment Clara came close, Vicki won her battle with the door. With the wind howling outside, Clara tugged on her arms. "I want to show you my dresses to pick one to wear. I want to be as pretty as you."
Now? Vicki's heart spiked at the girl's glow of happiness. If Clara was distracted, she'd not be worried. Vicki's lips trembled as she opened them to speak, and she lowered herself to her daughter's level to meet her gaze. "You're prettier, sweetheart. Let's go see what you have."
The girl raced to her room, and Vicki chased after her. Clara threw open her closet to pull out a dress. Without stopping, Clara kicked off her shoes, which flew halfway across the room and landed in the pile with her other shoes. Vicki could never have done that. Without a thought, Vicki knelt down and straightened the shoes out. "Good aim."
Clara had no modesty, because she dropped her clothes in a heap on the floor and showed off her superhero Underoos like it was normal. Vicki held her tongue. Perhaps for children it might be normal, but she had no idea. Instead of asking, she bent over and picked up the discarded pile to sort. Clara threw her dress on the top of her head. Vicki finished her sorting, and placed the dirty clothes in the hamper.
Clara's wail made Vicki turn around fast to see her daughter, then she stifled her laugh. Her daughter's arms flailed around with the dress over her face. Clara yelped, "Help me. I'm stuck."
On her knees, Vicki scooted over to her and helped tug the dress down. Clara lifted her arms until she could see, and then wrapped them around Vicki's neck to hug her.
Colt walked in the door and Vicki stood. As she gazed down, she saw Clara making a duck face. Colt shook his head, and their daughter laughed. "She's turned into a prissy girl that fast with you?"
Vicki's heart leapt. She gazed behind him. The window was now black from the shutters. "Stop. She's showing me how pretty she looks in a dress, and she's beautiful. So try again, Dad. Go out, then come back in and tell your daughter she looks amazing."
His brown eyes gazed at Clara with a shiny stare. Vicki's heart squeezed in her chest. She's missed out on all of this. Then he stepped backward and smiled. "Bossy as ever."
At the door he stepped into the hall, and then turned to look at his daughter. "Clara, sweetheart, you're beautiful, no matter what you wear."
The little girl smiled and twirled. Vicki sat on the side of the bed and averted her gaze. She'd not cry now. Her chest ached a little that she'd missed out on five years of her daughter's life. Her eyelids went gummy and she feared tears would form on her face again.
Clara came over to her and wrapped her arms around Vicki. "Don't cry. You're pretty too. Dad is just stupid over that meanie Belle."
Colt's voice went up an octave. "Hey now."
Vicki's chest had a flutter, and her hands trembled. Then she met Colt's warm eyes as he stared at her like he cared. "I won't cry. I'm being silly. I'm usually lighthearted and fun."
Clara brushed Vicki's hair, and she lost track of everything else.
"She's still skinny, but Vicki was always one of the gorgeous society misses in the country." Thunder crackled in the air, and Colt's face became more serious. "And I need to talk to your nanny for a minute, sweetheart."
Clara narrowed her eyes, but said nothing.
He offered her his hand to help her stand. She accepted and depended on his strength to lift herself. And stranger still, the heavy layers of doubt dropped off her shoulders in that second. Her lips parted, but she was unsure what to say. Her heartbeat became stronger in her ears, but she managed to sound normal as she said to Clara, "Be right back."
They stepped into the hall, and he closed the bedroom door behind her. "The storm will be a rainstorm mostly, but I'd feel better if you stayed the night, Vicki. Or are you running away into the hurricane?"
Her fingers ached to touch him, but she didn't dare. Instead, she lowered her gaze from his strong shoulders and answered, "I'll stay, though I didn't bring anything to sleep in."
"Good. I have supplies." He walked down the hall and waved for her to follow him. With a shrug, she complied. He continued his path across the hall to a closed door. "This is your room for the night. You already know the bathroom. I'll get you something of mine to sleep in, and I'll rustle up a toothbrush."
With a nod, she caught that sexy gleam of his gaze again, and she smiled and met his stare. "Thank you."
His features darkened and then his eyes narrowed. "I don't know your plans, Vicki. But it's clear Clara liked having you here today. We'll figure out a schedule that works, but she's my responsibility."
She forced herself to stay still. She swallowed, dropped her arms, and refused to fight with him. He was willing to share with her, and that was a good start. "You've done an amazing job. Clara is happy, secure, and she knows who she is and what she wants."
He exhaled deeply. "Good, because I don't need more fighting in my life. I've done enough of that."
Whatever he'd done as a Marine haunted him. For a moment, he stepped closer to her, and she could smell his sexy aroma. She took his hand in hers and squeezed it. "Look, clean up. You're messy. I'll start dinner."
He pulled his hand away, but his light smile told her he was relaxed too. "Yum. More burned food."
"Shut up, Collins. You know you can't live without me." Sashaying her hips out the door, she gave him her back.
He placed his hand on her hip, and she froze. She swallowed, turned around, and then lifted her gaze to meet his. But his eyes didn't gleam. He stared at her with cold eyes. "I fell for that one that summer…"
"It's not a line." She'd not dig up the past. Not now. Instantly, she wrinkled her nose, and admitted, "It just slipped out."
He scowled and his face went white, like he was guilty of something. She shrugged, and he ran his hand through his hair as he turned to leave. "It worked, though. Go make dinner. I'll get cleaned up and help you in a minute."
Whatever his
problems were with her would be dealt with. She turned away again, and didn't know what to say. She decided to follow his orders, because if she told him she still had dreams about him, she'd dig herself a hole outside right now and let the storm kill her. Colt's nearness and warm skin on her hers sent tingles throughout her body.
She told herself that Colt was engaged and she was here for her daughter, not romance. If she said this enough, perhaps the words might stick in her heart.
Chapter 5
"No."
Who said that? Vicki opened her eyes and sat straight up in bed. The voice had been male. The rain outside the window pelted the shutters. Quietness ruled the house at this moment. She rubbed her eyes, blinked, and her mind stayed cloudy until a question hammered in her brain. Had Colt yelled?
Thunder cracked in the air, and Vicki swung her legs onto the cold wooden floor. Once again, his voice grew deeper as he yelled, "I said no."
Questions flashed through her mind. Her throat constricted. Were they in danger? She'd have to get Clara. In a flash, she threw her blankets off her, and her feet smacked on the floorboards. The shutters rattled and the storm raged outside as she ran at full throttle to the other side of the living area.
Silence greeted her ears. In the dark house, nothing stirred. Her racing heart grew calmer as she peeked into Clara's room.
Her daughter slept peacefully.
At least nothing stirred here. Then Colt's voice echoed in the halls. "No."
Clara didn't wake.
Vicki's skin electrified. He pleaded, as if he was hurt, and she turned toward his room. With her ears alerted to every swish of the wind howling, she heard nothing but silence. Was he asleep? She fingered the fabric of her oversized tee shirt in her hands, as she cracked open his door. A softer grumble echoed in her ears.
He must be having a nightmare.
She let her tee shirt go and pushed the door open all the way. Colt needed to stop. He'd wake Clara. They were all safe. Still at his door, she knocked, but he didn't stir.
Her heart thumped as he thrashed his head on the pillow and his voice cracked with pain. "No."
Her heart swelled. She tiptoed close to him and saw his muscular frame twisted in his sheets. He struggled in his nightmare. His forehead was covered with sweat. With her arm crossed over her chest, she took in a deep breath and decided fast. Perhaps the wind and the rain and the temperature changes affected him. The ache in her throat told her that she couldn't let him get sick.
As she tucked the sheets that he'd throw off around him, she leaned over him. She didn't know what to do, but the deep lines of fear on his brow melted her heart. Then, as she rearranged his pillow for more comfort, she brushed his shoulder and realized he was burning hot. She must have been right. He might have a serious fever. She felt his forehead and inhaled.
Now was not the time to be sick. The hurricane outside could be dangerous, and they might need his strength. His head flipped to the other side of the pillow and he let out a moan. She'd never been a nurse, but she had to do something. She rushed to the bathroom, found a washcloth, and wet it. Coolness would help him. As she made her plan, her gaze sharpened and her hands became surer. Then she ran to his bed, brushed his forehead with the cool, wet cloth, and hoped she soothed whatever heated him.
At first, strong hands tugged at hers to pull off the towel, like her presence was what he fought. He tugged her to his chest, but she held firm. Again he yelled out, "No."
The smell of oak and oranges overwhelmed her, and her body softened. If only… No. She shouldn't go there. Instead, she bit her lip and only let go of the towel when he stopped moving. He must be having a calmer dream. Her legs felt weak, and she closed her eyes as she sat on the edge of his bed.
She intended to stand, but then he reached lower on her body and hugged her waist. If only she had made different choices. She leaned forward and kissed his cheek as she fixed the cloth on his head. He tugged her lower, and his hard muscles sent a hum in her blood. His fingers traced her lower back, and she bucked to get off him. "Colt, it's me. It's Vicki."
His body didn't press so hard, but her yearning for him grew before his lips claimed hers. His full lips tasted better than wine, and a sigh escaped her. Her hands inched up to his shoulder to push him away. Her mouth opened to say something, but the embers of desire coursed through her. She returned his kiss and her lips tingled. Her hands that had fought him decided to play with his hair, and stroke him.
In a minute, he'd wake up and stop.
Until then, her body heat made her uncomfortably hot too. Had the storm taken out the air conditioner? His husky groan of desire returned her mind to her predicament, and she tried to sit. He tugged at her top of her panties and boxer shorts she'd borrowed to sleep in. She loosened his grip and bolted away from him, but then he sat up. She pressed her hand with the towel that had been on his head, but he tilted his head and kissed her again. All she could do was moan out his name as he deepened his claim on her lips.
The torrid ache inside her grew, but she stood and let him go. As she stared at him, she realized she clutched the towel in her fist.
Without a sound, he rolled backward, but almost fell off the bed. She placed her hands on his chest to steady him and ensure he lay down straight. The thump of his heartbeat played against her palm, and heat rushed through her.
How had he not woken?
Her body reddened from desire now, but she had an extra layer of mortification.
She brushed his hair and checked his temperature. His forehead seemed cooler now. With her feet planted on the ground, she sighed and thought she should go. He slept peacefully. She turned and slid out of the room.
Thunder cracked in the air as the wind rattled the shutters. She ignored the hurricane and returned to her room, where she slammed her door shut. The sound was louder than she'd intended, and her heart thumped faster. With luck, no one woke up now.
To calm her jumpy nerves, she stood behind the door in her room and covered her mouth. Colt, the man of her dreams for years, still sent her body off course, and he had no idea what had happened. With luck, he'd never remember. She swallowed and ran her hand through her hair. The deepness of his sleep and the nightmares he had kept him knocked out. In the morning, she'd have to face him.
Her father had once said, to her brother Peter as he always spoke to the oldest son, that life was too short to regret anything.
She closed her eyes. She'd never manipulate to get her way. She was not someone who betrayed everyone's trust. She was not her father. With her hands clenched, she fought a tear of regret. She'd never steal, and Colt had promised another woman marriage. She must have a beautiful diamond ring that symbolized his commitment. If she had a symbol of his love, she'd never take it off. Vicki's bare fingers ached, and she rested her head on the door to let the thoughts go.
Nothing moved. With a bolt of energy, she breathed and let the tingle in her chest grow. Visions of a stolen life flashed in vivid color in her head, and Vicki closed her eyes. Every limb in her body shook. She opened her eyes. With heavy steps, she took one footstep at a time toward the bathroom. She'd not sleep, and maybe water would wash away her whimpers.
Her cold body sweat made her uncomfortable, but she splashed water on her face. The cold, clean water relaxed her.
The lightheadedness went away in the steam of the shower. In the morning, she'd have to find a way to face Colt. Tomorrow, she'd stare up into his sexy brown eyes and handsome face… She coughed uncontrollably.
The lights flickered as she stepped out of the shower. The howl of the wind rattled the shutters. Vicki wrapped her towel around her fast. The hurricane must be getting worse. She threw her tee shirt back on, and covered herself with the towel. Thirty seconds later, she heard a crash and sat. In that second, the house and everything inside went black.
Total darkness of a room without any windows surrounded her. She stood and wished she'd asked Colt for a flashlight. She knew better, but she had to check on
Clara again. With one ginger step after another, she made it to the door and stumbled forward into her bedroom.
Without warning, the door opened as a light shone in her room.
"Vicki?" Colt asked. "Are you okay?"
How was he now awake? She blinked and gritted her teeth. Then she bunched the t-shirt lower, as her legs and panties were showing. "Yeah. I was in the shower. Do you have a flashlight to give me?"
He tucked his hands in his pocket and rocked on his feet. His face was red. "I mean, did something just happen? I had a strange dream."
Seriously? He asked now? Her toes curled, and she lost her ability to breathe. Her chin trembled, and as she started to speak, a squeak came out instead. "No. Nothing extraordinary happened, but I could use a light to get dressed."
Why had she said that?
He turned and left the doorframe. The small light from the open door helped her reach around her bed to find her boxer shorts. She fumbled, and almost fell face first onto the bed, but she braced herself. Finally she slipped the boxers on and returned to the door and the light that shone in the living room. Colt waited for her. Her lips curled as she stared into Colt's sexy eyes.
"I should have knocked, Vicki. You're right. And I…errr…did bring you a flashlight." He took a tentative step forward and placed it on the dresser near the door. She smelled oak and oranges, and the smell alone sent a beam of light through her that calmed her nerves. She pressed her lips together as he stepped into the living area again. Then, without looking at her, he ran his hands through his hair. "I need to be sure, and you always say no at first. Did something happen between us earlier?"
Oh God. She gulped, crossed her arms, and said in a high-pitched voice, "What do you think happened?"
He crossed his arms too, shook his head, and then closed his eyes. "I'm not sure. I must have been having a dream. Forget it."
The door closed, and she hyperventilated.
[House of Morgan 01.0 - 03.0] Boxed Set Page 25
