Snowbound with the CEO (4 page)

“That was worth waiting for,” he mumbled into her hair a few minutes later. Rachel wholeheartedly agreed.

She’d wanted Adrian for a long time, but the reality had been even better than she’d imagined. No matter what happened tomorrow—or more aptly on Monday—she was going to enjoy this night with him to the fullest.

Chapter Three

Adrian wasn’t a morning person, as a rule. It took three snooze cycles for him to surrender to the alarm clock and more than one cup of coffee to make him coherent. But today, even as he opened his eyes, he was smiling. Wrapped around Rachel, with his face buried in her hair, was one hell of a good way to wake up.

He could hear the sleet driving against the window and that meant he had at least today with her. He’d have to make the most of it.

As much as he wanted to share breakfast with her in the smaller, romantic dining room with the view of the frozen lake, it would be too easy to go their separate ways. Once they were done eating, she could say she had work to do and disappear into her room. Just like that, the walls would be back up between them. If he ordered room service, they’d stay right here in his room. He liked that idea a lot.

He nuzzled through her hair to kiss the side of her neck. “You awake?”

“Coffee,” she mumbled so softly he barely heard her.

“Do you want coffee now or do you want to go down to the dining room?”

“Coffee now.”

If he’d ever thought too much about it, Adrian would have guessed Rachel was a morning person. She showed up at the office every weekday morning bright-eyed and ready to plow through whatever work was in front of her. Then again, she probably wasn’t up late every night making love. He hoped.

He ran his hand over her hip but when she didn’t stir, he chuckled and slid out of bed. After pulling on a pair of boxer briefs, he went to the coffeemaker and brewed them each a mug. While the machine worked, he plugged his phone in to charge since he’d been too preoccupied the night before to go through the routine.

The shower started in the bathroom and Adrian gave a few seconds’ thought to joining her. But he had a feeling she was more interested in his coffee than anything else he had to offer right then. He fixed hers with cream and sugar, then took a few sips of his as he walked to the window.

Pulling the drapes open didn’t let a lot of light into the room. On the other side of the glass, the day was dark and gray, with the light obliterated by the snowy, icy mix. It made for a dreary look, rather than the festive appearance of fat white flakes, but he didn’t mind. With nothing better to do, it was the kind of day for curling up with Rachel in front of one of the resort’s many fireplaces.

She finally emerged from the bathroom wrapped in one of the resort’s thick, blue robes. Her feet were bare and her hair fell in wet, blond waves. He watched her go straight for the coffee mug and she actually closed her eyes when she took the first sip. Then she took a few more before finally making eye contact with him.

“Thank you,” she said, giving him a sleepy smile. “I’m not very sociable before my first cup, I’m afraid.”

“I wasn’t sure if I should order room service or not.”

She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t usually eat right after I wake up.”

“Me, either.” He sat in one of the overstuffed armchairs near the window, setting his mug on the ornate table next to it. “Your hair looked different last night. And this morning, too.”

She ran a hand over her hair, as if she was self-conscious about it. “I use a lot of product and a flat iron to get it smooth for work.”

“Why do you bother? I like the work look, but I liked last night’s, too. It looked soft.” He grinned. “It felt soft, too.”

“The ponytail’s low maintenance and looks good all day, no matter what the weather is. But if didn’t straighten it, it wouldn’t look as polished. I’d look like I couldn’t be bothered to do my hair, so I put it in a ponytail instead.”

“Oh.” He wasn’t sure he saw the difference between a sleek ponytail and a wavy ponytail and decided to chalk it up to being one of those feminine mysteries men shouldn’t even try to understand. “Well, I like it both ways.”

He was thankful when she walked over and sat in the other armchair. Morning-afters were awkward enough without her looking as if she might bolt from the room if she could figure out a way to do it without spilling her coffee.

“Doesn’t look like we’ll be going home today,” he said. “Probably not a good day for cross country skiing, either.”

She turned toward him, tucking her legs up on the chair in a way that threatened to turn the robe into a peepshow. “Do you cross country ski?”

“No.” He laughed. “It was the only outside activity I could think of. Do you?”

“Not in years. I wasn’t very good at it. And I was even worse at downhill.”

“I never learned how to ski.”

She took a sip of her coffee before setting her mug down next to his. “Are you allowed to be from Vermont and not know how to ski?”

“We didn’t have a lot of money, so I grew up thinking skiing was for rich kids.” He thought about it for a few seconds and realized he didn’t know a lot about Rachel outside of her professional qualifications. “Where did you grow up?”

“Many places. My dad was in the Air Force, so we moved a lot. We were at Hanscom Air Force Base when I graduated and I’d fallen in love with Boston, so I stuck around even after my dad retired and they eventually moved to Florida.”

“Military brat, huh? Explains your exceptional organizational and management skills.”

She laughed. “I don’t know about that. But I think moving around so much helped spark my love for historical buildings. That permanent sense of home appeals to me. And as for organization and management, I’m a Virgo. I like to manage things.”

“And BHR is thankful for that.”

“What about you? I’ve read a lot of articles about you, but all the PR spin doesn’t really tell what sparked your passion.”

He liked that she used the word
passion
. What he did wasn’t just a job for him. “Let’s get dressed and I’ll tell you all about it over breakfast.”

Even though she shook her head, Adrian could see the smile playing at the corners of her mouth and knew she would give in. “I was planning to hang out in my room and get some work done.”

“The problem with using that excuse is that I know there’s not really any work to be done right now.”

She arched one eyebrow at him. “Says the man who’s hosting an office Christmas party a week from today and thinks there are party-planning fairies, apparently.”

“Even party planning fairies need to eat.” He held her gaze, willing her to say yes. He wasn’t ready for her to go back to work mode quite yet.

“Okay, but just breakfast. Then I’m working.”

* * *

Even though it was only two doors down the hall, Rachel felt ridiculous walking to her room in a bathrobe with her clothes from the night before bundled in her arms. She wasn’t sure if it counted as a walk of shame, but she still sighed in relief when she got into her room without being seen.

After dropping her clothes, she flopped onto the bed and stared at the ceiling. She’d spent the night with Adrian Blackstone.

While it was tempting to jump up and down on her bed, laughing and squealing, she forced herself to be still and think about how this would affect her position at Blackstone Historical Renovations.

She guessed that would depend in no small part on what direction their relationship took when this idyllic forced vacation was over. Workplace romances were tricky, especially with him being her boss, but they could probably make it work. Or maybe he was just enjoying her company to keep the cabin fever at bay.

With no crystal ball to help her see Adrian’s intentions, there was no sense in worrying about it, she decided. Time to get dressed and meet her breakfast date.

Thankfully, Rachel always packed extra clothes and had subtly trained Adrian to do the same. Coffee spills and pasta sauce drips happened, as did the occasional time extension or travel detour. She pulled on a pair of black slacks and a spare white, button-down shirt before pulling her hair into a ponytail, though she skipped the straightener this time.

When she stepped out into the hall and saw Adrian leaning against the wall opposite her door, her heart skipped a beat. Apparently one of his back-up outfits was the one he traditionally wore when he was going to an active construction site. Khakis and a dark green polo shirt embroidered with the company’s logo. The knit fabric hugged his chest and shoulders, and she wanted to run her hands over it.

Instead she pulled her door closed behind her and smiled. “Ready?”

He took her hand as they walked to the elevator and kept hold of it for the ride down to the main floor. The professional her, who had spent so long making sure there was no visual evidence of her attraction to Adrian, wondered if he’d let go when the doors opened. When he didn’t, she forced herself to relax. If the few employees who knew she worked for him wanted to judge, more power to them.

Somehow she didn’t think that attitude would be so easy to maintain back in the office.

Adrian led her to the smaller, more intimate dining room, and she assumed he must have called ahead because the hostess greeted him by name and ushered them to a semi-private table with a stunning view of the lake. It was slightly obscured by the weather, but still a gorgeous backdrop for a meal.

And, more importantly, there was already coffee on the table and the hostess poured them each a cup from the carafe. “Mr. Blackstone indicated you’d both have the breakfast buffet, so please feel free to serve yourselves whenever you’re ready.”

“Thank you,” Rachel said. Then, when they were alone, she looked at Adrian. “You’re pretty good at the management thing yourself.”

“Must be all the time I’ve spent watching you.”

The innuendo in his tone made her blush, and she looked toward the buffet. “That smells amazing.”

Adrian stood and stepped around the table to help pull back her chair as she stood. “Let’s see what they have.”

Rachel ended up with an English muffin and an egg white omelet stuffed with mushrooms and cheese, while Adrian chose scrambled eggs, toast, home fries, and as much bacon as he could put on his plate without any slices sliding off onto the floor.

Once they were seated, she reached across the table and snagged a slice. “I think you can spare one.”

Red tinted his cheeks. “Bacon was a very rare treat when I was growing up. Even though I’ve been financially secure for a while now, I can’t seem to control myself when it comes to bacon at an all-you-can-eat buffet.”

“Speaking of you growing up, I think you promised me a story.”

“I did, huh?” He winked at her, his egg-laden fork paused halfway to his mouth. “Once upon a time, there was a naughty secretary...”

Rachel almost choked on the bite of English muffin she’d taken. “Adrian!”

The slow grin he gave her made her senses sizzle. “I guess that’s more of a bedtime story. I’ll save that one for tonight.”

Her breath caught as she realized what he was saying. Adrian was either hoping or taking for granted she’d spend the night with him again and she wasn’t sure how to react to that.

“I told you one night wouldn’t be enough,” he said in a low voice that sent a shiver down her spine. “I haven’t even begun to get you out of my system.”

The flames of desire flickered and burned down a little. How this fling would affect her professionally was still to be determined, but at least she knew what was going on in her personal life. Adrian was simply getting her out of his system.

Not very flattering, but maybe she could do the same. They’d burn off the chemistry between them and then they could go back to normal.

“Tell me how Blackstone Historical Renovations came to be.”

He shrugged. “My dad was very old school and took a lot of pride in everything he built. I felt that. And when I worked with a guy who did post and beam, it was sad how many people wanted to tear down houses and do new construction because of amenities. It just all came together for me at some point. I wanted to preserve yesterday’s buildings for tomorrow’s generations.”

Pointing her fork at him, she shook her head. “That last line’s in your PR bullet points.”

“Guilty. But it’s still the truth.”

They lingered over their breakfast while Adrian told her stories about his early days in building. He was totally relaxed and each time she told herself she should go to her room, he’d launch into another and she’d find herself listening and laughing.

She could always work later.

* * *

By mid-afternoon, the storm was abating and a few hours later, all that was coming down were the kind of fat snowflakes you caught on your tongue when you were a kid. Adrian watched them fall from his chair in front of the crackling fireplace. With Rachel sitting across from him, pondering the chess board and her next move, he thought it was one of the best days he’d had in a very long time.

After breakfast, he’d offered to show her around the hotel. Part of it was pride. The Mount Lafayette was a building he was extremely proud of and he wanted to show it off to her. But it also bought him more time before she went back to her room to work. He was afraid if that happened, she might stay in there.

After the tour, they’d ended up in one of the sitting rooms scattered throughout the resort and he’d asked that the gas fireplace be lit. The pine boughs hung in the room gave the room a Christmas scent, lightly spiced up by unlit cranberry candles placed on the end tables.

Time and the storm passed while they relaxed, talking about everything from work to their favorite television shows to best Christmases.

“The year I got my Cabbage Patch doll,” Rachel said. “It looked like me and had a real birth certificate and everything. I’d never wanted anything the way I wanted that doll.”

He liked the way her face softened at the memory. He guessed she was probably a fairly serious child, except for when she laughed. Even as a kid that laugh had probably attracted attention.

“What about yours?” she prodded. “What was your best Christmas?”

He had to think about it. “We didn’t have much, but Christmas was always my favorite day. My dad and I always cut our tree from the back woods, and my mom and I would string the lights and then hang homemade decorations I made over the years. But the year I was eleven, my gift was a brand-new pocket knife. Then the next year, I carved a star for the top of the tree. My dad ran his hands over it and got a little choked up. Said the way I had with wood did him proud. They still put it on the tree every year.”