“How do you know my name?” She took a step back. What was his name? How did she remember so much detail about last night but his name escaped her? She swallowed and tried to turn away, but her back hit the door.
She flinched. He backed up a bit and tilted his head. “We met last night. I’m Gabriel Murphy.”
Gabriel was one of the four archangels. She laughed, but caught the sound in the back of her throat to stop it.
He shook his head, then stepped closer. She turned into the room to keep her distance. “Are you going to hurt me?”
“No, but you’ll hurt yourself if you run around and freeze to death.”
She was a capable woman. She always took care of herself. “I’ll be fine.”
He pointed to the doors. “Did you see anything?”
“No.” What was she to see? She shook her head. “I’m cold.”
He nodded. “It won’t take a minute to grow back the flames.”
“Thank you.” Except near this man, she’d always been able to analyze and get her way. This shyness was new. Her mind swirled, unable to focus.
At the fireplace, he fanned the embers. “You barely escaped hypothermia a few hours ago, and I’m not equipped for more deaths.”
She swallowed. “What deaths?”
“Let’s not talk about that.” Gabriel; his name rang in her ears. He offered her his hand, but she recoiled. He turned his head and directed them closer to the fire. He motioned for her to sit, and he knelt to stoke the flames.
She ought to give him the benefit of the doubt. He’d helped her. She licked her lips, knelt down, and brushed against him. The questions still frightened her, though.
Sparks ignited under her skin, and she hugged her thighs to her body.
She kept her gaze on the floor. “Do you have a phone?”
“No.” He used a bellows to breathe air into the fire and make the flames grow.
Her body rocked. “Why not?”
At the fireplace, he turned to face her. “The landline is cut, and the cell towers don’t reach this far up the mountain.”
“My mother needs me.” She gazed at him, and their stares were so direct that the eye contact seemed to dance. “Do you have a car?”
“Not one that works in this weather.”
She gulped. She inched backward and sat on the couch. Did she trust him?
He took a seat at the other end of the couch. “I don’t like people, generally.”
She stared at the second door he had come through earlier and had disappeared into last night. She had skipped the big room in her quest to run. Where was her stuff? She drew her knees up to her chest, then remembered how short her nightgown was. She lowered her legs to sit like a normal person.
“Don’t be afraid, Erica.” He shook his head and broke their gaze. “The car’s buried under two feet of snow that’s likely to grow while the storm progresses.”
She needed him to understand. She reached out and took his hand in hers. “My mother has cancer. I need to check in at the hospital. Please, do you have a computer?”
Warmth raced up her arm as he squeezed her hand. “I don’t. I can’t help. I’m sorry about your mother. I came here this winter to be alone.”
Her mouth went dry. He was far too handsome to be so far removed. “Is there any way out?”
He tilted his head to the side. “No. Erica, I never planned for guests.”
She rocked her body back and forth, and her eyes were a little wet. “I’m trapped.”
He chewed on his lip and nodded. “You can stay here.”
With her palms outward, she told him to stay back. He sat back to keep his distance.
She scoffed to hide how she shook on the inside. “You might kill me.”
His hand went to his hip. “I don’t kill innocent women.”
She shrugged. “You talked about deaths, more than once.”
“You remember last night.” He took a deep breath then stared at her again. She fidgeted with her clothes. Finally, he tucked his hand in his pocket, and she met his gaze. “Last night, I fixed up a bedroom for you. I can add a lock if you want. Last night’s blizzard and today’s nor’easter won’t get you home.”
If he added a lock, he’d still have a key. Her skin was raw and she rubbed her arms. “You didn’t answer my question.”
Sexy brown eyes stared at her, and she couldn’t avert her gaze. “You’re cold.”
“Sad. My mom needs me.” She shook her head. Her heart told her he’d not kill her, but she came from a long line of women who believed men’s lies. What could he do right now with the snow piled high? Patience was never her strong suit, but she had to try. She offered him a small smile. “And embarrassed. I don’t normally barge into houses or drink hot chocolate from strangers.”
“You needed it.” With a sideways smile, he nodded. “This house drives people crazy.”
What? Crazy? Had he meant himself or someone else? They hadn’t talked much at all, and he confused her. He hadn’t asked what happened to her out there or what happened to her car. He barely spoke beyond a few sentences. That wasn’t a good sign. She glanced up. His cheeks were red, and her body relaxed. “You scare me, Gabriel.”
“No.” His features darkened. “The walls here hold secrets, and we can’t get you home until the storm abates.”
Secrets. Walls didn’t hold secrets. Why would he intentionally be alone? She shook her head and rationalized that he was handsome, dark, and intense, but he discussed living walls. He had lost a few brain cells. Too bad, though. She put her hand on his face. The stubble of afternoon shadow prickled her hands, which still trembled, but the touch sent a shiver of excitement through her. She smiled.
He must have heard her car accident yesterday. Something prickled her spine that she had misjudged him somehow, but she had no other explanation. Discussion would make this worse. He was beautiful despite his lack of wits. She sighed. “I won’t cause you any trouble, Gabriel. I’ll stay out of your way.”
“Good. We’ll spend our days apart, then.” He nodded. “What brought you here, Erica?”
And the nights? Where would he spend his nights? They were all alone here. She tugged her ear, stepped back, and laughed at herself. “I thought I could beat the storm, hole up in a hotel, then make my way back to Boston.” She met his gaze. She dropped her hands to her sides, but they ached to touch him again. She didn’t dare. “Turns out I was wrong. Miami people should not drive in Maine.”
“Where were you going?” He checked her out, and she smiled. Today something in her life made sense. It was the first time Gabriel had acted human.
She swallowed and hoped he liked what he saw. Unlike the previous woman in this house, she’d never been petite a day in her life. Her frame wasn’t made that way.
“To buy a factory. For my stores.”
He glanced at the door and shifted his gaze to the storm outside. “Not this morning.”
She reached out to his shoulder. “This morning.”
He stared at her without a word.
“I clearly am missing the meeting.” She swallowed, then finished, “I’m still a little dazed. I was hoping someone drove by my car and called the sheriff.”
His stare darted back to her face. “Police. We’re not in the South. No one will see it. Your car is buried in snow.”
“Miami sheriffs stop working only right before the brunt of a hurricane. In New York, the cops run into burning buildings. Emergencies are their specialty.” She nodded. “I hope help arrives soon.”
“You’re in the country now, Erica.” His grim face told her plenty. “It’s a miracle, or a testament to your willpower, that you made it here. The road is miles away.”
“Miles?”
He kept his hands on his hips. She trembled a bit and reached out to touch him. He didn’t shake off her hand. He met her gaze. “Erica, don’t run outside to your death.”
She took a small breath and knew she’d sounded childish. She darted her ga
ze away, “This year has been bad. I need my mom.”
He stiffened as he sat beside her. “I don’t have a phone.”
Erica refused to become a whiner, and that edge to her voice hadn’t been natural. She was the one who made the decisions. She smiled to keep him calm. His jumpiness echoed hers from earlier. “It’s okay. Thank you for saving my life. I know you don’t have a computer, but how about an Internet connection or Wi-Fi? I’d like to—”
“Again, no. I get you don’t like the answer.” He stepped into the shadows of the room. “But I live off the grid.”
She narrowed her eyes and tried to understand her dark angel. “Why?”
He stepped away from her. “I don’t need society or anyone. I’d rather be left alone.”
“Why did you help me?”
“I don’t like to be near death.”
Again with the “death” talk. Her hand traced her neck to rub it again. She had kissed this man last night, but now he half scared her to death. She pressed her lips together. What would drive a handsome man to hide? In Miami, all the women would chase him. “Yet you’re in a chateau that’s large enough to be a hotel.”
He shook his head. “Ski lodge.”
She’d been right. With her eyebrows raised, she stared at him.
He lowered his gaze. “I’ll get you something to eat.”
Her arm extended to call him back, but she stopped. Irrational questions about death floated in her mind. Perhaps if she befriended him, she would help in her own demise, but if she stayed quiet, then she’d grow more afraid in time. Instead she lowered her hand to her heart and nodded. The man clearly didn’t talk about himself. “Okay. You made delicious hot chocolate last night. May I have some now? I’m much stronger, thanks to you.”
He openly stared at her for a minute. “Yeah, okay. Stay here.”
A moment later, he went through the door that led back to the apartments. She relaxed and took a long, deep breath. How had people escaped winter storms before the Internet and phones? She scanned the room, and her gaze locked on a massive amount of books. She smiled. Last night, she’d slept in the man’s library until he moved her to a bed. She’d read countless books at her mother’s bedside for the past year.
Before she came in, he must have intended to read a book. Why else had he been in the library? This made him almost normal. She dropped the blanket back on the daybed and scanned the titles. Classics. A few mysteries. And fantasy books. No romances, though.
A book wouldn’t be her chance at escape, but then, nothing would get her out of this place.
Erica picked up one well-read paperback. A piece of paper fell out. After she slid the book back, she picked up the note. She hadn’t intended to read it, but her mouth fell open.
I’m going to die here.
Her heart contracted and jumped. Noises came from the next room. She crumpled the paper into her fist and pasted on a smile when he came in.
The pretty handwriting appeared bubbly and feminine. Gabriel’s presence in the room was a force of nature to be reckoned with. It wouldn’t be his note.
Her gaze lowered, and she stared at the huge mug in his hands. She swallowed and met his eyes.
She hugged herself again. “You said your wife died?”
She cringed the second the words flew out of her mouth. This was almost as bad as the time she went to a funeral and asked the grieving widow if she was having a good day. Once again, she was insensitive in her words, but not in her heart.
He stiffened. “Yes.”
She tilted her head. “How?”
He averted his gaze, not that she blamed him. “I don’t want to talk about her—ever.”
“Was it cancer?” Her voice cracked. Perhaps it was wrong to press the issue, but she couldn’t stop herself. Her mouth had a mind of its own.
“No.”
She pressed her lips together, and then she nodded. He braced as if she’d struck him. The portrait of the blonde played in Erica’s head. Was that his wife? Something in her heart led her to think so, but she was unsure. She had to trust Gabriel. She had to have faith. She stepped closer and handed him the crumpled slip of paper.
“You read this?”
“It’s not long, yeah.”
He read the sentence again then ripped it up. “I have to go.”
“Wait.” She brushed his arm. Was the portrait his wife? She kept that question to herself. “Did she know she was going to die?”
He became a soldier in that moment, with his head high and an unreadable expression. “I’m not discussing her. Forget this drivel.”
No one commanded her. She stood straighter. As he turned to leave, she called out, “Look, we’re stuck together for who knows how long. I need to know if I can trust you—”
He stopped, but kept his back to her. “This storm can last days and will be followed with quite a few more. It’s winter.”
No. She gulped. “I have people who depend on me and my business.”
He stood silent.
For such a big man, she had no more strength. She crumpled. “I don’t understand this house. I feel like I’m possessed, and that’s absurd. There is no such thing. I’m scared, and I need to trust you. So I need to know. Did she know she was going to die?”
He lifted his head, but kept his back to her. “She always claimed to. I have work to do.”
What did that mean? Goose bumps grew on her body. She’d been unforgivably rude, and she had no reason. He had saved her. Doubts weren’t her friend, but he hadn’t assured her. Was the portrait that haunted her thoughts someone who’d died years ago? Or was the blonde his wife? Her breath caught in her throat the second he left. The hair on the back of her neck stood. The sky rumbled. Another storm would hit soon. Who was Gabriel, and why was she stuck here with him?
Cold trailed down her back, though her question hit her fast. Could he be a murderer?
She ran her hands through her hair to stop the thought that circled her mind. She fidgeted with her nightgown. The man had helped her last night. He’d saved her, and her body acted out of character near him. She was shy, then rude, and every cell in her body became aware of him every time they touched.
The loneliness of this place grew worse the second he left.
Crazy thoughts came from desperation, and she ached to help her mom. She’d find her way out.
She paced. She’d find service somewhere for her phone and check in with the hospital. Her sister had disappeared, and her mom couldn’t handle more drama. Erica needed to reassure her.
A moan hung in the air.
The hair on her neck stood again, and she twirled around in the empty room. Was someone there? Gabriel was in the next room. She called out, “Hello?”
Gabriel answered from behind the door, “Wait.”
“I can’t. What’s that sound? Who’s moaning?”
He opened the door. His eyes were large, but if any stare might freeze her in one spot, his would at the moment. “Old houses make noises.”
She stared ahead of her. A heaviness lodged in her chest, but her gaze darted around. She’d swear she was in danger and ought to run. Yet she saw no one.
What was wrong with her and this house?
Chapter 3
Erica pressed her lips to get the last bit of her hot chocolate, then she stretched. Tremors of heat coursed through her body. Thoughts of Gabriel’s intense eyes mixed in with the euphoric mood that chocolate sent her on. Gabriel hadn’t stormed out, offended, after she’d been rude. He’d made this drink then excused himself. She was in his house, and her fears would be her own undoing. If he intended her harm, he’d had ample opportunity. He was strange but kind. At least she had stopped her constant worry about her mom’s health for the moment. Gabriel took center stage in an amorous fantasy of their kiss. Had she honestly done that? She rolled her shoulders backward. She knew nothing about him.
She stared down at her short flannel nightgown and sighed. She needed to figure out where he’d ta
ken her clothes. The living quarters were set up like a cozy apartment within the ski chalet. Last night replayed in her head, but she stopped the fantasy. Instead, she crossed her fingers and stood. She left the room and passed another door on her way. He had to have a laundry room and her clothes would be in a bucket. She’d go and check her assumptions.
Her feet scraped against the floor, and she stared around. The note she found came back in her mind. Before she left the library, she wandered over to the desk. Was the woman in the portrait outside his wife? Were there clues here on how she died? He had no pictures on his desk. She chewed on her lips. And why couldn’t she let go of her incessant thoughts about the woman?
A clue to find out what happened might be hidden in a book. The note had been there. She thumbed through papers but saw nothing else mysterious.
She clicked her tongue in her mouth. The note had to be from his wife before she died. Erica’s fingers curled into a fist. Why, she didn’t know. But she knew there was a connection. Coldness seeped into her body. Something had happened here. The walls held secrets that warned of danger.
The howl of the wind echoed in the lobby. The storm must have grown stronger.
Her skin twitched. The last time she’d twitched about anything had been in high school. Her former anxiety had long ago been conquered. Nothing here would harm her. Gabriel was her host. Her chest grew warmer. Thoughts of a man shouldn’t affect her day. She took a deep breath and refused to dwell on ancient history.
Besides, she might have made up some huge story in her head with no basis in reality. Work usually kept her mind busy. Without something to do, she couldn’t enjoy herself and let her imagination soar.
She closed her eyes and counted to ten. At least the sugar reinforced the energy she had, and she would find something to do here. Perhaps cook for Gabriel? Erica licked her lips. Her love of cooking was how she’d managed to successfully own restaurants, and she intended to trademark her cupcakes. Whatever tragedy he’d lived through shouldn’t affect them now, and if she offered him treats, it might help him to trust her.
Peace ran though her now. Even before the snow, every day she marched in heels like she ran for her life. Here it was quiet. She gazed at the back door again. What was back there? What did the rest of this place look like? The front room was huge, with a high ceiling that indicated multiple floors that opened to the abandoned lobby.
Winter Peril Page 3