Stranded (7 page)

He smiles smugly. “Your princess complex.”

“I do not have a princess complex.”

Laughing, he says, “Okay.”

I narrow my eyes. “As long as we’re assigning labels, I’d say you’re bossy.”

He shakes his head and laughs. “I can’t argue with that.”

Smiling in triumph, I pick up my book and open to the page I was staring at earlier.

“I’ll be in my office if you need anything,” he says, then he walks toward the hall.

I watch him go, already missing him, then settle back and actually begin to read my book. After an hour, I decide to see what he’s doing.

It isn’t that I'm trying to sneak up on him, but I walk quietly down the hall, then pause before going into his office. He’s looking at spreadsheets on his monitor, which looks pretty boring to me, so I figure he won’t mind the interruption.

I tap him on the shoulder, and he jumps, which makes me laugh.

“You scared the shit out of me,” he says, scowling.

“Sorry,” I say through my gales of laughter.

“I’ll bet you won’t think it’s so funny when I sneak up on you.”

Uh-oh, that sounds like a warning. “What are you doing, anyway?”

“Just going over some numbers.”

I peer over his shoulder at the screen. “What kind of numbers.”

He shuts his laptop with a snap, which darkens the oversized monitor I'm looking at.

“None of your business,” he says, then he turns to me with a sigh. “I think it’s time for a little fun. What do you think?”

“What did you have in mind?”

A grin blooms on his mouth. “Let’s go play in the snow.”

My gaze goes to the window, where the snow is still swirling, although I can see into the distance now. “But it’s still snowing.” I look at him. “I thought you said we had to wait until the storm finished.”

“Are you going to follow everything I say?” His eyes seem to twinkle as he speaks.

I'm not sure where he’s going with his question. “Uh . . . No?”

He slaps his thighs and stands. “Good.” His eyes rove over my body, which fills me with a pleasant tingle. “Now let’s see if we can figure out something warm for you to wear.”

Chapter Fourteen

Fifteen minutes later he’s rounded up a pair of winter boots and pants, and holds them out to me. “A buddy of mine left these. They’ll be a little big on you, but they should work.” He pauses. “We should wrap your ankle though. Sit on the couch and I’ll wrap it for you.”

“Okay.” Once I'm seated, he squats in front of me, then lifts my foot and rests it on his knee. He uses both hands to slide my pant leg up, and it’s like there’s a direct connection between my calf and my secret places, because when his fingers brush my skin, I feel electricity course through me and I pull in a soft intake of breath. 

He must hear me, because he looks at me with a smile. “You okay?”

Trying to pretend that he doesn’t have an effect on me, I nod. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

He focuses back on my foot, slowly sliding off my sock, then he strokes the bottom of my foot. 

That almost does me in as I feel desire pound inside me. “Stop,” I say, my voice nearly a croak. “I’m ticklish.”

He looks at me with a grin. “I can tell.” Then he takes a stretchy bandage and wraps it tightly around my ankle, clipping it securely in place. “That should keep you from twisting it while we’re outside.”

“Thanks.” I begin moving my foot off of his leg, but he holds it in place.

“Wait. Let me put some socks on your foot. That will help the shoe to fit better.”

“Okay.” I watch as he slides one sock over my foot, then two more. Then adds two more pairs to my other foot.

“That should do it.”

“I hope I can move my toes,” I say, staring at the thick socks on my feet.

“I’m sure you’ll manage,” he says as he stands.

I pull the snow pants on over my jeans and think that his buddy must be much smaller than him, but still bigger than me. The pants are about three sizes too big. I turn to look at Drake, and want to punch him when I see the look of amusement on his face.

“I think you need a belt,” he says, obviously trying to hold back a laugh.

“Well, instead of standing there mocking me, go get one,” I say testily.

“Let me see what I have.”

A few minutes later he’s back with a belt that looks way too big for me. He holds it up for my inspection. “I punched some new holes in it, so I think we can get it to work.” 

He reaches toward me, like he’s going to put it on me, but I snatch it out of his hands. “I can dress myself.”

“Sorry,” he says with what looks like chagrin.

I thread the belt through the loopholes, then pull it tight and use the new holes in the belt to secure it closed. The pants are still big on me, but at least they should stay on over my jeans. 

I look at the boots he’s set on the floor and find I'm able to step into them easily enough, but bending over to tie them while wearing the oversized pants is going to be more difficult. Feeling like a kindergartner who hasn’t mastered the art of shoe-tying, I look at Drake. “Can you help me tie the shoes?”

He smirks. “Help you? Or do it?”

I put my hands on my hips. “Can you just tie them, please?”

He smiles, then kneels on the floor. After the shoes are secured, he stands and lifts a beanie from the couch. “You’ll want to wear this.” He puts it on my head. “To keep your ears warm.”

“Okay. Thanks.” I kind of like the feeling of him taking care of me.

After he puts on his own snow clothes, and I put on my own jacket and gloves, we head outside. The snow is falling softly, not like the day before when it pelted me as I walked along the road. The view is absolutely gorgeous. Tall trees coated in a fresh layer of snow, mountains in the distance, not a hint of civilization in sight.

“No wonder you like to come here,” I marvel as I look around. “It’s beautiful.” When I turn to look at Drake, I see him watching me with a smile.

“Yeah. I love it out here. I’d live here full-time if I could manage it.”

“I can see why.”

“Now let’s build that snowman.” His face lights up and he looks like a small boy getting a break from school on a snow day.

We work for an hour, and when we’re done, I feel quite proud that I’ve participated in building such a work of art.

“It looks like crap,” Drake laughs as he stands back to appraise it.

My mouth falls open. “Nuh-uh. It looks great.”

With a patronizing smile, he says, “This is your first snowman, right?”

I nod.

“Then I’d have to say you don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

I cross my arms over my chest. “Well, I like it.” I turn my back on Drake and stare at the piles of snow that we’re calling a snowman, and wait for Drake to say something, but he’s quiet. As I start to turn to look at him, a cold ball of snow hits me in the side of the face. Gasping, my eyes widen, and then as the coldness seeps into my skin, I shriek.

“Snowball fight!” Drake yells from ten feet away, then he beans me with another ball of snow.

Hating that he’s caught me off-guard, and not liking the feel of the icy cold snow on my skin, I scoop up a handful of snow, pack it into a ball, then throw it at him as hard as I can. It sails right by him.

“You throw like a girl,” he calls to me as he dashes behind a tree.

“I’m so going to get you,” I call back, a wide grin on my face. Finding a tree of my own to hide behind, I kneel in the snow and form several snowballs, creating a small arsenal.

Peeking out from behind the tree, I scan the tree-line, looking for the gorgeous man with the wicked aim. Movement catches my eye. I grin, then pick up two of my snowballs and carefully walk from tree to tree, trying to see where he’s hiding. A moment later I find him, but as soon as my eyes meet his, I know it’s a trap. 

I hurl my two snowballs at him—hitting him with both of them—but he has a large pile to draw from, and he begins throwing them at me the moment he’s recovered from my hits. Laughing, I scurry away, but he manages to connect with my back and legs. When I see a wide tree in my path, I move behind it, just as two snowballs smash against the trunk in a shower of snowflakes.

Chapter Fifteen

Half an hour later, after I’ve gotten in a few good hits, and he’s landed many more on me, I'm getting tired. He shows no signs of stopping, so I step out from behind the tree where I’ve taken refuge. “I give up,” I call out. “No more.”

He pokes his head out from behind his tree. “Is this a trick?”

I laugh. “No. You won.” I wave my empty hands. “See? No snowballs.”

“Okay.” He walks out, a big smile on his face, and stops in front of me. “I think you need to practice your snowball throwing skills.” 

“What do you mean? I hit you a bunch of times.”

“Maybe thirty percent of the time.”

“Hey,” I say as I plant my hands on my hips. “I’m at a disadvantage here.”

He cocks an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? How so?”

“You seem to have forgotten that this is my first snowball fight.” I narrow my eyes at him. “How many snowball fights have
you
been in?”

He nods, like he knows I'm right. “A few.”

“Okay. So you need to cut me some slack.”

“Fine. But as part of your initiation into snow-like activities, I think you need to make your first snow angel.”

My face lights up. “Oh yeah. I’ve always wanted to try that.” 

“Do you know how?”

“Duh. Who doesn’t?”

“Okay, go for it.”

I look behind me and see that though the ground is somewhat trampled from our play, it’s still a good spot to lie down. I sit in the snow facing Drake, then lie back, straightening my legs, then stretching my arms above my head. 

When I look at Drake, I see his gaze sweep over me, and when his eyes meet mine, I see his undisguised desire. Matching desire pounds through me, and I hold very still, waiting for the feeling to pass, but it seems to go on and on.

In a husky voice, he says, “Well? Are you going to do it?”

My earlier enthusiasm vanishes as I try to control the sensations washing over me. As good as they feel, I wish they would stop. I’ve decided to focus on myself and what
I
need—to get my feet under me, now that I'm a college graduate. Why does my body have to betray me? 

Then, thinking that if I can’t see him, I can compose myself, I close my eyes, then swing my legs wide apart, then back together, wide apart, and back together. At the same time, I sweep my arms over my head in time to my legs. After going through the movements several times, I stop and open my eyes.

Drake’s gaze is riveted to me, and even through his snow pants, his erection is evident. I focus on his eyes, but that doesn’t help as it seems he is able to see right into my soul.

I push myself to a sitting position, then Drake reaches out a gloved hand, and I take it, allowing him to pull me up. Ignoring his obvious need, I turn my back on him and look at the snow angel I created. “That looks pretty good, don’t you think?” When he doesn’t reply, I turn to face him. “Well?”

His lips twitch, as if he’s trying to hold back a smile. “Yeah. You did good.”

Trying to pretend that there’s no electricity flowing between us, I say, “Are there any other snow activities I should do?”

He shakes his head. “No, but I do have a different activity in mind.”

I feel my face redden as I think I know what he’s going to say, but he surprises me with his suggestion.

“When I started chopping the firewood this morning, I turned on the jacuzzi. It feels good on the muscles, so I figured we might want to use it.”

“You have a jacuzzi?”

He nods.

“Where is it?”

“Out back. You can’t see it from the kitchen window.”

“Oh.” Sitting in steaming hot water while it’s snowing sounds like heaven. There’s only one problem. “Uh, I don’t have a swimsuit.”

A slow smile curves his mouth. “I’m sure you can think of something.” He gazes at me a moment, then says, “Let’s go.” Then he begins walking toward the house.

I follow behind, frantically trying to figure out what to do.

Chapter Sixteen

Back in the house, Drake gestures toward the hallway. “You might want to leave the snow clothes in the laundry room. I’m going to change upstairs.” He smiles. “I’ll see you in the jacuzzi.”

I nod as I watch him ascend the stairs, then I go into the laundry room and stand there, my mind and body warring with one another. On the one hand, I want to flee to my room and hide under the covers until he’s done with his jacuzzi time. On the other hand, I want to take off all of my clothes and sink into the heated water, and then let Drake have his way with me.

Blood rushes to my face—and to other places—at the thought. Yes, he is hot, and yes, I know he wants me, but I have to prove to myself that I can control myself. How on earth am I going to make it on my own if I can’t be around a hot guy for two days without wanting to jump his bones? I know what the consequences of falling for a man is. My heart’s been broken enough times to attest to that.

A smile slowly blossoms on my face as a new thought comes to mind.
This will be a good test for me. If I can resist him while sitting in his jacuzzi, then I’ll know my self-control is intact.
Then I frown.
But if I
can’t
resist him, what will that say about me?
I don’t like the implication.

In any case, I need to take off the snow clothes. After taking off the hat, gloves, and coat, I remove the boots, then peel off the pants, and leave everything in a pile. Now in my jeans, I look out the window and see that the snow is drifting down in gentle flakes, which means the storm is probably coming to an end. Which means I will be leaving soon.

I'm not sure how I feel about that. At first I’d been eager to get back on the road and on to my new life, but now, not even twenty-four hours after sliding off the road, I'm really beginning to like this hot guy who rescued me. It’s obvious—more than obvious—that he’s attracted to me too, but is that reason enough to have sex with him? I’ve only been with a few guys in my life, and they were all guys I’d been dating for a while. I’ve never hopped into bed with a man until I’ve gotten to know him, and felt that we cared about each other.