Snowbound with the Boss (6 page)

When he'd first returned home, he'd done his best to make images of her and those snowbound days fade from his mind by going out with other women. Lots of women. But none of them had managed to get his attention. He took them dancing, to fancy dinners and concerts, and within twenty minutes of every damn date, Sean was bored and his mind was drifting. After a few weeks, he stopped trying. Just wasn't worth the effort. He figured it was a sign from the universe, telling him to forget about
all
women for a while and concentrate on his company. Sooner or later, he'd get back to decorating his bed with beautiful women. Until then, he poured what concentration he could find into the work.

He was still talking to companies about making a set of collectible figures based on the characters from some of their biggest games. He was also in talks about developing a board game based on “Fate Castle” to capture the imaginations of those few people who preferred their games in the real world rather than the digital one.

Then there were the storyboards to go over, checking out the dialogue and scene shots for their upcoming Christmas release, and that didn't take into account setting the groundwork for the first Celtic Knot convention—along the lines of the big fantasy cons, but set solely around the Celtic Knot video games.

The Wyoming hotel was their only holding big enough to accommodate a con of any kind and now that Sean had both Mike and their partner, Brady Finn, on board with the idea, Sean had to get things rolling.

That meant, whether he wanted to or not, he had to talk to Kate about it. The fact that there was a part of him looking forward to seeing her face again was something he didn't want to think about. Over the last several weeks, they'd communicated mostly through email, except for one phone call that had been brief and unsatisfying. Hearing her voice had sparked his memories even as the distance between them had sharpened the frustration gnawing at him.

His cell phone beeped, and he glanced at it. Today would be a video chat, and he wasn't at all sure if it would be better or worse to actually see her face when he spoke to her. On the second beep, he grabbed it and answered. Kate's face popped up on the screen, and he felt a jolt of something that was part pleasure, part irritation. Why'd she have to look so damn good?

“Kate,” he said tightly. “Good to see you.”

“Hello, Sean.” She paused as if she was considering what to say, so he spoke up to fill the void.

“I wanted to talk to you about plans for the conventions we'll want to hold at the hotel.”

“Right.” She nodded. “You told me a little about your plans when you were here.”

“Yeah.” Her eyes were direct, and so blue he felt as though he could fall into them and drown. Not easy to keep your mind on work when you were looking into those eyes, he told himself. “It's why we're going to need those extra cabins.”

“Oh,” she said, perking up, “I wanted to talk to you about the cabins, too.”

“Okay, but first tell me how much progress you're making.” Because while she talked he could enjoy watching her. The flicker of emotion on her face, the shine in her eyes, the way her mouth moved...

“Well,” she said, “the interior work is going great. We've got most of the kitchen finished, and the quartz counters will be going in by the end of the week...”

She kept talking, detailing the work being done, and he knew he should be more focused on it. He, his brother and Brady Finn had each been in charge of a hotel's makeover, turning them into exact replicas of one of their bestselling games.

Fans all over the world were already lining up to stay in “Fate Castle” in Ireland, where Brady lived, and the Laughlin hotel based on the “River Haunt” game was next, probably opening around Christmas in conjunction with the latest game being released. Then there was this one.

Sean's hotel was based on “Forest Run,” a game featuring soulless creatures, brave knights, sorcerers and Faery warriors. This hotel strategy was important, as it offered their gamers the chance to live out the fantasies of the games. It was one of the next big steps Celtic Knot was taking to push them into the stratosphere of success.

So yeah, Sean should be listening, making notes, but instead, all he saw were Kate's eyes, and he remembered how they looked with firelight dancing in their depths. He saw her mouth moving and nearly felt the soft glide of her kisses across his chest. She flipped her ponytail back over her shoulder, but he saw a thick mass of soft black hair spilling around her face as she rode him to completion.

“So, what do you think?”

“What?” His brain tried to catch up. To sift through what she'd said to pick out a few key words so he wouldn't have to admit he hadn't been listening. “The cottages?”

She rolled her beautiful eyes. “Yeah. What do you think about the new idea for their design?”

Stall
, he told himself.
Use that charm you're always insisting you have
. “Well, it's not easy to make a decision without more than just a description.”

Her eyes narrowed on him. “Yeah, I thought you'd say that. So I had my friend Molly draw these up. She's not one of your artists, but she's better at it than I am.” She held up a tablet and showed him a raw, rough sketch. Intrigued, he brought the phone closer to examine what she was showing him. His first reaction was that he liked the idea very much.

Instead of a squat, square cabin as they'd first discussed, she'd come up with something that would look...almost mystical.

“It's sort of based on caravan wagons,” she was saying as she flipped pages to show him more.

He could see the inspiration behind the drawings. The cabins themselves looked like half circles, resting on the flat edge. Walls and roofs curved with arched doorways brought to mind fantasy houses from fairy stories. Each one would be singular, individual, he saw, as he studied the different drawings. He could see it, the small, rounded cabins nestled in the forest, surrounded by flowers and trees, their brightly colored doors signaling welcome. Hell, he thought, people would stand in line to stay in those cabins.

When she was finished and faced him on the screen again, she asked, “So? Shall we go with these? I'm asking now because the ground's getting soft enough to start excavation. We'll have to install a new septic system, centrally located so we can connect all the cabins to it. Once that's in, we'd like to lay foundations for the cabins themselves.”

“Septic system,” he repeated with a short laugh.

“Well, yeah,” she said. “We're too far from the county sewer lines to hook into them, and the hotel's tank isn't big enough to handle the extra load from the cabins.”

He chuckled again and pushed one hand through his hair.

“What's so funny?”

“This conversation,” he told her. “I don't think I've ever discussed sewers with a lover before.”

“Ex-lover,” she amended quickly.

A ping of something sharp and cold shot through him, but he let it pass. “Point taken. Okay, yeah. I like the drawings a lot. Make sure you leave the walls blank for our artists to come in and paint murals based on the game.”

“Right,” she said, all business again. “We're on that. And in the hotel, we've got acres of white walls just waiting for them. I think we should wait until most of the work's done before you send anyone out, though.”

“Agreed.” He turned his chair until he was facing the window with a view of the backyard and the flowers beginning to bloom there. Spring was coming, and he wondered if all the snow at the hotel had melted yet. Not the point, he reminded himself. “Fax me those sketches, will you? I want to show them to Mike and the artists. Run them past an architect and get some plans. They'll probably need refining, too.”

“I'll send them this afternoon.”

“Okay,” Sean said and wanted to ask how she was.

“Then, I guess that's it.” She looked over her shoulder and it wasn't until then that Sean keyed into the background noise of hammers and saws. “I should get back to work.”

“Yeah,” he said. “Me, too.”

“So, good,” she said, nodding. “Everything's good. I'll keep you posted with emails about the progress here.”

“That'll work.” His gaze locked onto her face even though he knew that seeing her like this would only feed the dreams that were already tormenting him nightly. That fact annoyed him, so his voice was brusquer than he'd intended when he said, “I'll expect those faxes today.”

“You'll have them. Look,” she said, “I've gotta go.”

“Yeah, me, too,” he said again and noticed that neither one of them was making a move to hang up. Were they twelve? That spurred him to action. “All right. Thanks for checking in and for the suggestions.”

“You're welcome. Bye.” And she was gone.

In the sudden silence of his empty office, Sean felt a chill far deeper than he'd experienced in a snowbound hotel.

Six

Five months later

H
is brother was married.

Sean was having a hard time getting his head around it, but facts were facts. Jenny Marshall was now Jenny Ryan—a new bride and pregnant with their first child. The baby had been a surprise and had really knocked Mike off his game for a while. But he'd come around, worked out his own issues and finally realized in time that Jenny was the only woman for him.

The Balboa Pavilion was the perfect spot for a summer wedding, too. He glanced around at the stately old Victorian, with its wide view of Newport Bay and the hundreds of pleasure crafts lining the docks. The dance floor was gleaming beneath thousands of tiny white lights and beyond the glass walls, a summer moon shone down on it all as if in celebration.

Sean's gaze shifted back to where his brother and Jenny were dancing, holding each other as if they were the only two people in the world. Times change, Sean told himself as he leaned negligently against a wall. Not too long ago, Mike and Jenny had been at each other's throats. Now they were pledging eternal love and about to be parents. Speaking of parents... Sean turned his head to look at his own folks. Jack and Peggy Ryan looked as happy as he'd ever seen them. He frowned thoughtfully and took a sip of the aged Scotch in his hand.

His parents' marriage had always seemed pretty damn perfect to Sean. It was only recently that he'd learned what Mike had discovered at the tender age of thirteen—that parents were people who made mistakes. It still didn't sit well with him that Mike had kept the secret of the trouble in their parents' marriage to himself for so many years. But on the other hand, Sean mused as he watched his mom lean her head on his dad's shoulder, Sean had secrets of his own.

He'd never actually lied to the family about anything, but he'd never told them everything, either. So he really wasn't in a position to complain too loud or too long.

But this wasn't the time to think about the past. This was about Mike and Jenny, who had somehow gone from antagonism to the kind of love most people never knew.

Naturally, thinking about antagonists brought him around to thoughts of Kate. But to be honest, his mind was always ready to dredge up Kate's image. Five months and he could still smell her. Taste her. Her face swam in his mind every night when he tried to sleep. It wasn't getting better. If anything, his brain seemed to be working overtime reminding him about Kate, as if to ensure he didn't forget.

As if he could. Memories of their days and nights together kept his body at a slow burn constantly. Maybe, he told himself, it was time to go back to Wyoming. Check on the hotel's progress in person rather than reading about it in faxed reports and sterile emails. And while he was at it, he could see Kate again and resolve whatever the hell was gnawing at him. He had no doubt that his memories were playing with him, convincing him that Kate was more than she really was. Making the memories of the incredible, breathtaking sex they'd shared wildly better than the reality. Seeing her again could clear up all of that. Help him put things in perspective so he could finally get her the hell out of his head.

With that thought in mind, he stepped away from the music and the crowd, pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and hit the number for a video chat. After a couple of rings, she answered and the instant her face appeared on the screen, his body tightened in response.

What was it about this one woman?

“Sean?” She didn't look happy to see him. Her eyes narrowed and she bit at her bottom lip before saying, “I wasn't expecting to hear from you.” She glanced away, then back, as if she was reluctant to meet his eyes. “We're, um, kind of busy here. Is there a problem?”

He hadn't thought so, but he was changing his mind fast. Whatever else Kate was, she wasn't a game player. And judging by her expression right now, she shouldn't play poker.

“You tell me,” he said, moving farther from the festivities so he could hear her better. He left the Pavilion and stepped out into the summer night, where the music from inside was muffled and the slap of water against the dock sounded like a heartbeat. “Something wrong?”

“No,” she assured him quickly. “Everything's fine. Great, really. Uh, what's all the music I hear?”

“My brother, Mike, just got married. I'm at the reception.”

“Oh, that's nice.” She bit her lip again. “Um, I'm a little busy, Sean.”

Anxious. Why?

“Yeah,” he said shortly. “Me, too, so why don't you save us both some time and tell me what's going on?”

She took a breath and impatiently huffed it out again. “Fine. We're making serious progress on the hotel and—”

She kept talking, but Sean was hardly listening. Instead he watched her face and studied the secrecy shining in her eyes. There was something going on, and she clearly didn't want to talk to him about it. If it was job related, she wouldn't have a problem. He already knew that Kate took her work as seriously as he took his. She was on schedule with the remodel, so what the hell was it that could make her so clearly uneasy about talking to him? Did she have a new man in her life?

Sean really didn't like that thought. Gritting his teeth, he interrupted her rapid flow of words with one sharp question. “Why are you so nervous about talking to me?”

“Nervous?” She forced a laugh, then shook her head so hard her ponytail swung like a pendulum behind her head. “I'm not nervous, Sean. Just busy. We're at a critical stage in the job, and I should be out supervising the concrete pour for the cabin foundations. I really don't have time for this, Sean.”

“Is that right?” His voice was cool, distant, but she didn't seem to notice.

She smiled, but it didn't touch the shadows in her eyes. “Absolutely. I appreciate you checking in, but everything's good. I'll contact you next week. You should really go enjoy the wedding.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Sorry, one of my guys is calling for me. Gotta run.” Then she hung up.

Sean was left staring at his phone while behind him, music, laughter and celebration rang out. She was lying. Or if not lying then at least hiding something. The question was
what
?
And
why
?
Scowling, he slipped the phone back into his pocket and turned to head back into the reception. The temper he hadn't really experienced since the last time he was with Kate was back now. She had
hung up on him
. Nobody did that to Sean Ryan.

The damn woman was apparently
still
convinced that she was in charge. Giving him the brush-off? Saying she was too busy to talk to him? Yeah, that wasn't going to fly.

He turned his gaze out to the dance floor, where his brother was dancing with their mom and Jenny was dancing with her uncle Hank. And while he watched everyone, his mind was at work. After the party, Mike and Jenny were heading out for a weeklong honeymoon. The minute they got back, Sean told himself, he'd be taking another trip to Wyoming to check out the situation for himself.

“Let's see her avoid me when I'm standing right in front of her,” he muttered.

* * *

“Why don't I ever get snowbound with a gorgeous bazillionaire?” Molly Feeney plopped into one of Kate's comfy chairs and picked up her wineglass from the nearby table.

“Because you're lucky?” Kate asked.

“Please.” Molly took a sip of her chardonnay and said, “Women around the world would have
loved
to be snowbound with Sean Ryan. He's...” She paused and slapped one hand to her heart. “I'm feeling a little faint.”

Kate laughed at the drama. “That's because you haven't met him.”

“You could fix that and introduce me,” Molly said.

“I like you too much,” Kate told her.

Laughing, Molly said, “Come on. It's not like he's an ogre.”

No, he wasn't. This would all be so much easier if he was. Instead, he was as charming as he claimed to be, along with irritating, funny, frustrating. He made her feel too many things at once, which was just one reason why she should be grateful he'd gone back home to California. Having several hundred miles between them seemed much safer to Kate.

“Molly, those three days in the hotel changed everything for me,” Kate mused, grabbing her tea for a long drink.

“You don't seem to be suffering for it, though,” Molly pointed out with a smile.

“No, I'm not,” Kate said. Suffering, no. Worrying? You bet. Along with guilt and too many other wildly divergent emotions to even consider listing.

When Sean first left Wyoming, it had been hard. She'd gotten accustomed to seeing him every day, having him challenge her both on the job and personally. She'd thought her life would be easier once he was gone. She hadn't expected to miss him, hadn't wanted to admit even to herself how deeply he'd gotten to her. But the truth was difficult to ignore, and lying to yourself never did any good because you knew the truth no matter what you told yourself.
And now I'm officially rambling.

“Maybe if you weren't hiding...” Molly cradled her wineglass between her palms.

“Don't start.” Kate shook her head and frowned at her very best friend. Molly had been dogging her about this for months. Heck, so had Kate's father, for that matter. But no matter what anyone had to say, she knew what she was doing. She'd made a decision, and she was sticking to it. “I'm doing the right thing.”

Hadn't she dreamed of this very situation for years? When Sam died, Kate had accepted that those dreams were gone. Now, she had a chance to grab hold of them, and she wouldn't let it go.

“Right for who?” Molly asked, tipping her head to one side until her long, strawberry blond hair fell in a curtain of curls.

“For me. For Sean.” She paused, thought about it, then nodded for emphasis. “For everyone.”

“Your life, sweetie,” Molly said. “And God knows I hate to interfere—”

Kate snorted.

Molly's eyebrows arched. “
But
secrets are hard to keep. The truth will eventually jump up and bite you in the butt at the worst possible time.”

Kate didn't want to believe that, so she made a joke instead. “Is that a sort of variation on Murphy's Law?”

“I'm Irish,” Molly told her. “We're all about Murphy's Law and all of its subsidiaries.” Sighing a little, she set down her glass on the table and braced her forearms on her knees. “At least think about it, Kate.”

“Molly, I have been thinking about it. For the last five months I've pretty much done nothing else
but
think about it.”

“Thinking about it with your mind closed to all possibilities but the one you want isn't really thinking, is it?”

Another quick stab of guilt. “Aren't you supposed to be on my side?”

“Oh, I am, sweetie. You know that.” Molly sighed. “I'm just saying that sooner or later, all secrets are blown. And it might be better if you did it yourself. You know?”

Kate let her head fall back and her gaze fix on the heavy wood beams spanning the ceiling of her cottage-style bungalow. Her friend had a point, she knew, but it was one Kate didn't want to acknowledge. “Maybe you're right, Molly. I don't know. All I'm really sure of is I can't say anything. The gorgeous bazillionaire wouldn't be interested anyway.”

“Fine. I won't say anything else about it.”

Oh, she didn't believe that. Molly was like a dog with a bone, and she was very protective of her friends and family. If she thought she could help, she'd never give up. But for now, Kate sighed. “Thanks. That'd be great.”

When the doorbell rang, Molly jumped up and said, “I'll get it. You stay put.”

Kate sipped at her tea, heard the front door open and then heard her friend's voice go soft and flirty. “Well, hi. Where'd you come from?”

“California,” a familiar, deep voice said flatly. “I'm here to see Kate Wells. Is she home?”

Stomach flipping and churning, mouth going dry as dust, Kate slowly stood up, set her teacup aside and tried to harness the wild gallop of her heartbeat. This could
not
be happening. She held her breath when Molly said, “And you are?”

“Sean Ryan.”

Kate groaned and half hoped that she was having some sort of weird walking dream. If she pinched herself, maybe Sean wouldn't really be walking toward her. Molly wouldn't be behind him mouthing the word
wow
, and she herself wouldn't be wearing an old T-shirt and denim shorts.

But it wasn't a dream. Sean was right in front of her, and his gaze was locked on her belly. “You're
pregnant
?”

She dropped one hand to the swell of her baby as if to protect her from hearing her parents argue even before she was born. Instantly, she went for outrage. “Sean, what're you doing here?”

If you had no defense, she reminded herself, go for a strong offense. All those years watching football games with her dad was finally paying off.

“Seriously? That's what you have to say?” He stopped, shook his head, then shoved both hands through his hair. “Are you kidding me?”

“Um,” Molly said from behind Sean, “I think I'm gonna go. Looks like you two have some talking to do—”

Kate wanted to reach out and grab hold of her friend as if she was a life preserver. But what was the point? That would only be delaying the inevitable. Sean was here. He knew the truth. Bag open, cat out. So with absolutely no other choice, Kate told herself it was best to just put it all on the table.

“I'll call you tomorrow,” Kate told her, still staring at Sean.

Sean never took his gaze from the mound of Kate's belly, so he didn't see Molly miming fanning herself because he was so hot. Okay, yes, Kate thought, Sean was truly an amazing male. But right now, it wasn't desire that was pouring through her, no matter how good it felt to see him again. Panic had the upper hand at the moment.