Love Story for a Snow Princess (Siren Publishing Classic) (8 page)

“Not before the hotel shuts down on Saturday.”

Thea grunted. “Good point. Where is it?”

“Here!”

Thea paused and looked at her friend. “Here? At the Suinnak?”

Miki clapped her hands, clearly excited. “I can put all of Hank’s stuff in the shed, and you can use his room.”

“Oh, Miki, I don’t know. I don’t sleep very well. I would hate for my insomnia to—”

“Pfft,” Miki said, waving away the protest. “I sleep so soundly a nuclear bomb could go off and I’d not hear it. I would love to have you, and this way you won’t have to worry about forking out any money for rent.”

“I would want to pay rent, Miki.”

“Listen, you work here for food. Let’s just add the room, too. That way I won’t feel so bad taking advantage of you. Besides, options are kind of limited.”

Thea sighed and nodded. “All right, thank you, Miki.”

The other woman actually squealed a little before moving away to tell all the patrons about Thea’s new living situation. Everyone congratulated her, and Miki treated them all to a round of scotch. Thea thought it was a good thing there were only six people left in the restaurant.

She waited for Paden to show, but he never came.

She tried to hide her disappointment, but she couldn’t tell if she fooled Miki’s sharp gaze.

The next day she packed up and moved out of the hotel, just in time to avoid the storm. Whatever warm weather was trying to wiggle its way into September disappeared as a cold front moved in.

Hank’s room was small but comfortable. Miki had changed the bedsheets and cleaned the place for her arrival. The twin bed had a wooden headboard with a shelf built into it. The carpet was gold shag shot through with brown. It seemed a little retro with the wood paneling on the walls, but Thea didn’t mind the décor.

It didn’t take long to unpack her suitcase. She took out only the essentials and left much of it behind. She hated that she’d have to lug all this stuff back to Malibu. In fact she hated that she’d have to go back to Malibu at all, but she didn’t have an excuse to stay.

She waited that night, but again, Paden failed to arrive.

By the third day the storm had fizzed away, leaving another heaping of snow in River Ice. Patrons still came in, piling their snowshoes on top of each other. She absolutely loved the chatter of the room, making sure each cup remained full and bringing out plates of food when asked.

That night, after Miki closed the restaurant and Paden hadn’t shown up, Thea decided to go to him.

“Miki,” she called.

Miki came from the back, drying her hands with her apron. “Yes?”

“Where can I rent a snowmobile?”

“Why do you need one?”

Thea bit her lower lip. “Because I, um, want to visit Paden. I’m worried about him.”

Miki sighed. “Honey, it’s probably not a good idea to set your heart on Paden Winters.”

“Set my heart?” Thea scoffed. “I’m just, you know, he, uh, cut his arm, and I was worried about, you know, healing.”

“You are such a terrible liar. Here,” she said and reached behind the kitchen door to grab some keys. She tossed them to Thea. “Around back is the garage, use Hank’s snowmobile for now. It’s the gray one, goggles are in the handlebars.”

“Thanks! And how—”

“Down the street,” Miki said, answering the question before Thea even finished asking it. “As it curves back to the right to come into town, make a left and follow that street about two miles. His house is at the end on the left.”

Thea hurried over to bundle up.

“You’ve probably never driven a snowmobile, right?” Miki asked, and then started explaining before Thea could answer. “Of course not. Tuck your feet under the metal pockets on the lower front end. The throttle is the lever on the right side for speed and the brake is on the left, but if you just ease off the throttle, chances are you’ll slow down considerably and maybe even stop because of the snow. Otherwise, it’s like riding a bike.”

“Thanks, Miki.”

“No worries.”

Thea quickly hugged the other woman then hurried out the door. The quick instructions Miki had given her proved invaluable. It only took a few false starts and one nosedive into a snowbank before she caught on, but as she turned onto Paden’s road a sense of adventure over took her. It had been so long since she’d felt the need to be intrepid that the thrill literally caused a little high-pitch giggle to escape.

In her mind the trip to Paden’s house was a breeze. In reality the road weaved its way over the land, up hills, and around trees. The only way she knew she heading in the right direction was the groove marks cut into the snow from another snowmobile. The generator lights of the town were behind her, keeping her navigation on target as she headed for the National Forest line. The sign for the forest had ice hanging sideways on the pole, but at least she knew when to look for Paden’s house.

It wasn’t hard to miss, however, not only because of the sheer massiveness of the structure but also because of the two stories of windows lit from within. She pulled the snowmobile over and headed for the front door, holding carefully on the railing as she traversed the stairs.

At first her knocks went unheeded, so she banged harder. The door was abruptly opened by a disheveled looking Paden who only blinked at her a few times, as if testing if she was a figment of his imagination.

“If you don’t mind,” she said, trying hard to keep her teeth from chattering, “it’s cold out here.”

He didn’t say anything as he stepped back to allow her to enter. He closed the door with a solid thump behind her.

A fireplace blazed with warmth through the barren room. She saw stairs off to the left behind a glass door, leading to a brightly lit loft. She couldn’t see what was up there but the lack of decoration or even furniture gave the whole scene a touch of surrealism. The front room extended into a large, modern kitchen, with a huge island and open floor plan that segued into the dining room. A hallway extended past with several closed doors beyond that.

As the warmth of the fire and the house seeped into her, she slowly took off her coat, gloves, scarf, and goggles.

“What are you doing here, Thea? And whose snowmobile is that?”

“Miki let me borrow Hank’s. I wanted to check on you, since you’ve not been in for three days. I was, um, a little worried.”

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, and she focused on the absence of the bandage on his arm. A long red line had already started to scab over.

“I’m fine. I’ve just been working on deadline.”

She blinked and brought her eyes up to meet his gaze. “Oh! I didn’t realize. Well, I guess I should, um, go?”

He raised an eyebrow to her question then abruptly pulled her into his arms to lean his cheek against the top of her head.

Her heart jumped into overdrive as she snuggled into his arms, content for the first time in three days. She closed her eyes and simply sank into him. He felt solid, strong. She snuggled into his embrace, loving how protected she felt. She had missed this.

“You shouldn’t worry about me, Thea.”

“Don’t you like someone worrying about you?”

He was silent for a moment. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-three.”

“I’m thirty-five.”

“So?”

“I came to Alaska to be alone.”

“From where?”

He pulled away to stare at her. His fingers swept away some stray hair from her cheek. He rubbed a patch of skin near her temple, his fingertips brushing lightly in soft caresses. She leaned into his touch, wanting more, wanting so much more of him than mere feathery strokes. But the moment was lost when he dropped his hand and turned away to go into the kitchen. She followed, sitting on one of the barstools at the island. He pulled a beer from the refrigerator and held another out to her, one eyebrow raised. She shook her head. He put it back then popped the top on his and leaned a hip against the counter.

“I’m from Miami.”

She blinked, confused by the randomness of the answer to a question she had forgotten she’d asked. “Oh, right. Where you’re from. Wow, I hadn’t pictured you from Florida.”

“People can’t help where they’re born,” he replied in a cryptic, cutting tone. His lips were a bitter slant of amusement. “You said you lived on the ocean. Which one?”

“Pacific. I grew up in Malibu.”

“You didn’t want to stay in the place you knew so well?”

“That was the reason why I had to leave. Did you design this home yourself?” she asked, changing the topic swiftly.

“I picked out the design, and it was built for me. I’m not much of a decorator, as you can see,” he replied, waving his hand toward the great room.

“You work upstairs?”

He nodded. “What did you do before you came to Alaska?”

“I was studying to be a teacher,” she said softly. “Elementary grade.”

“You still want to be a teacher?”

She shrugged. “Someday, maybe. I don’t know.”

They fell silent as he drank his beer. He watched her, studying her, making her nervous and excited at the same time. But she held his gaze, enjoying the tingling sensations dancing over her nerve endings.

He made her feel alive.

Paden set the can of beer to the side and walked around the island to her. Her eyes widened with each step he took. When he reached her, he hooked his hands under her arms and urged her to sit upon the countertop. He maneuvered himself between her thighs. She could feel him, bold and hard straining against his pants as he settled against her. She reached to hold onto his shoulders as his hands sank into her hair to pull her mouth to his.

His lips crushed hers, his tongue sweeping in to capture hers. It wasn’t a sweet kiss, or even a nice kiss. It was raw. It was deep and wet and filled with need.

A tad too hot. A bit too intense.

Like strawberries dipped in honey.

She kissed him back.

Putting a little push into it, she attacked his lips, giving back what he gave to her. Her sudden amorous assault seemed to surprise him. Paden pulled back to look at her, his eyes now dark with suppressed passion.

Her lips were swollen and she licked them, tasting as much of his flavor as she could. He gave a strangulated groan and pulled her into him, crushing her body into his.

He bent her slightly backward until her breasts pushed into his chest. He ran one hand down her chest, starting at her neck to unbutton the row of buttons, one after another. The flannel material parted, showing her thermal under top. His searching fingers tugged the shirt from her pants to find her skin. Her belly quivered from his skimming touch. His fingers trailed upward, grazing the curve of her breasts and tracing along the fullness until he found her sensitive nipples. The nubs instantly turned pebble hard, producing an ache that spiraled down deep into her womb. She shifted her hips, the seam of her pants rubbing hard into her clit. The combination of his heady scent and the pressure against her pussy was enough to make her panties wet.

Paden yanked off her shirt and his mouth followed, feasting upon her breasts as if he were starving. He sucked them one nipple in, lavishing it before moving to the other, leaving her begging for more.

She wanted to be closer to him, wanted to wrap herself around him until he was buried so far in her pussy that they became one. So she pushed him far enough away to hop onto the counter. Paden flung his body between her thighs and she wrapped her legs around his waist.

She felt him throbbing at the juncture of her thighs, rubbing against the rough jean material. Even through layers she felt his heat, his hardness, made her dizzy with need. It was nothing short of exquisite torture, wanting him closer yet being restricted by the clothing. She started tugging at his clothes, needing to feel his skin against hers.

But as soon as her knuckle grazed his stomach, Paden tore himself away from her. Dazed, she lay there for a moment, uncomprehending. He panted, his eyes wide with panic.

“Get out of here!” he yelled at her.

That woke her up enough from her sexual euphoria to sit up.

“Paden? What’s wrong?” she asked breathlessly.

“Didn’t you hear me? Get out of here!” he snarled. The tone frightened her. She scampered off the counter and hurriedly put her top back on before backing away from him.

But he apparently had no desire to touch her again. Instead he pushed past her into the front room to grab her coat, flinging it at her.

“Go on!” he grated. “Go, Panthea.”

Then he stormed away from her, heading down the hallway, past the kitchen and into one of the back rooms where he slammed the door shut. Tears pricked her eyes. The abruptness of his temper left her a bit shell-shocked and wondering the hell just happened.

She redressed, her hands trembling. She bundled up for the cold night air and took one last look at Paden’s beautiful home, then closed the door behind her. As she drove back to Miki’s place, the tears finally fell, turning to ice upon her face.

He didn’t show the next night again, but this time Thea didn’t care. She couldn’t understand him, one minute running hot the next minute cold as ice. She was tired of thinking about him, and wished there was a magic switch she could turn in her brain to flip it off. She didn’t want to care for him.

Clearly, it was obvious that he was hurting from something. A man didn’t become all hot and bothered then turn it off abruptly, not when a sure thing slapped him in the face.

“Miki,” she said that evening as they were closing up the restaurant. “Is there Internet here?”

“In the Suinnak?”

Thea nodded. “Or anywhere in River Ice.”

“Of course. I have it in the apartment. You can borrow mine.”

That evening, Thea planted herself in front of Miki’s old PC and waited as the computer booted up. She nibbled on her nail, wondering if she would find anything and half-fearing what she might discover. She wasn’t dumb. Sometimes it was best to let the past lay.

On the search engine she typed in Paden’s name. His graphic novels came up, beautiful covers depicting half-dressed women and a hero who was super but also disfigured, making him forever alone.