SNOWFIRES

by Caroline Clemmons

  Shivering against the chill, she slipped quickly into her clothes, already planning their meal and the day. Suddenly, she paused in the midst of pulling on the borrowed boots.

  "Darn, I'll bet those horrid hens have laid more eggs just to spite me." Holly left the bedroom to the sound of Trent's laughter.

  She lit a candle from the bathroom heater and set it on the rim of the sink. Remembering not to flush after she used the facility, she grabbed her brush and comb. When she looked into the mirror, she saw her flushed cheeks and the new sparkle in her eyes. No doubt about it, she looked like a woman who’d spent the night making love.

  Love? In her dreams, maybe, but in the cold light of day—make that the cold candlelight of early morning—she had to admit it had been sex. Lust and the opportunity to slake it.

  The import of what she had done hit her with a force that almost felled her. She wanted to sit on the toilet seat and put her head between her knees until the lightheadedness went away. No, she was not the fainting type no matter how messed up her life became.

  And she had really done it this time. Not only did she have sex with her boss, she knew herself well on the way from in lust to falling in love with the man. Had she betrayed her family? Maybe. At least she doubted the reliability of Geneva's account of Trent's part in her father's heart attack.

  Admittedly, her escalating attraction to Trent colored her perception of his past actions. Harsh and hard he might be in business, but she could not see the man who shared her night deliberately taunting her father. If only she knew what her father tried to tell her when he asked her to "get Trent to." To what?

  And now she’d had sex with Trent. Well, from her view they made love, but she had no idea how what he thought of her. After all, here they were isolated together. Maybe she was just a way to amuse himself and release some of the tension from being stranded.

  She blushed with the memory of practically throwing herself at the man. He’d certainly needed no encouragement, but she knew men felt differently about sex. They’d made love through the night. Numerous wonderful, blissful, passionate times. Some of her own pent up tension had dissolved.

  But how could she have been so stupid? Never had she given into her emotions in such a capricious way. In fact, she had vowed never to let herself become trapped by emotion once she righted her family's situation.

  Next year both Angela and Jenny would be at the university. As soon as they graduated and had jobs or husbands, she would have fulfilled her promise to her father. She had only a few more years to wait before she could free herself of spendthrift, social climbing Geneva.

  Trent entered the room with his own cell phone in his hand and a disgusted look on his face. "How come we can send men to the moon, man a space station, and then let a blizzard disrupt phone service?"

  “Better ask someone who understands science more than I do.” She picked up the skillet. "You want breakfast first or check on cattle first?"

  "Why don't you fix breakfast while Blue and I check the generator and the well house? I’d better take a look at the gauge on the propane tank, too. We'll do the barn after breakfast."

  Happy to postpone the icy inevitable, Holly started preparations for the morning meal. When Trent returned, she took a pan of biscuits from the oven.

  He stamped the snow from his feet and took off his gloves, cap and jacket. Blue headed for the blanket under the table. Trent poured himself coffee. When he saw Holly dump the contents of the pan into a basket, he stared.

  "If I hadn't seen it, I would never have believed it possible. Are those actually homemade biscuits?"

  She shot him a look full of surprise. "Did you think I rushed down to the corner store while you were out?"

  He made fast work of washing his hands at the sink. "Those look as good as the ones your grandmother made."

  She carried the basket to the table. "Exactly the same. Grandmother didn't make them, I did. I help out when I stay with my grandparents."

  "Amazing!" He sat down, cup in hand and dug into his food with zeal. “What will I find out about you next?” He sent her a rakish grin and raised his eyebrow.

  How could she guard herself against this man? It was all she could do not to cross her fingers at him as if warding off a curse.

  She wanted him again. A picture of sex on the table leaped into her mind and she fought it. He picked up the honey and applied it to a biscuit. What would it be like to have him spread it on her breasts and lick it off? Her tongue flicked across lips gone dry at the vision.

  He watched her as he ate and his green eyes twinkled, almost as if he read her mind. When honey threatened to drip from the biscuit, his gaze focused on her as his tongue darted to catch the sweet drop. She looked down at her plate to break the enticing images running through her overactive brain.

  Get a grip! Eggs, bacon, biscuits. Nothing erotic about those. Concentrate on food instead of the man across the table. Otherwise, she’d probably jump his bones here and now. Darn him, he’d cast a spell on her. How could she break it?

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  After breakfast, Trent helped with the dishes. Holly appeared not only to tolerate simple things, but obviously enjoyed them, and that still surprised him. He knew her life had not been the easy street he at first thought, not with that crook Walter Tucker for a father.

  He bundled up and set off for the barn with her trailing him. They stopped in the yard and looked around them. A sheet of ice still coated everything.

  “It’s gorgeous.” She touched an icicle on the cable to the barn.

  He inhaled deeply. “Change in the air.” Though the temperature still rode below freezing, the dying winds now carried a different smell.

  “I’ll lead the way this time.” She stepped in front of him. They headed for the barn with him watching her back.

  His groin grew hard when memories appeared of her abandoned passion of the previous night. She definitely was not the ice princess he’d thought. No matter how regal she appeared at the office or even wading through snow, she became an uninhibited tigress in his arms.

  Well, sometimes the tigress also became a cuddly kitten, but certainly not the frosty woman he thought her at first. He’d learned she had no love interest and hadn't for a long time. Not that he pried exactly, but he coaxed, listened, and waited for answers around the plant.

  He’d never heard one word against Holly, except a few disgruntled swains who called her the "Snow Queen" or "Ice Princess." No doubt they considered her cold because she had turned down their advances. They would never hear differently from him, but Trent knew that Holly Ann Tucker was anything but frigid. She was one hot babe. He smiled to himself at the thought, then sobered.

  How did Holly view their time between the sheets? Surely he could not be mistaken about her inexperience nor the thought that her yielding to him brought more than just her body. Did a woman of her sophistication separate sex and love?

  The thought shocked him and he stumbled but caught himself. Love? Not a word he spoke lightly. In fact, not a word he’d ever used. He guessed she wasn’t one to toss it around casually either.

  She glanced over her shoulder. “You’re the one who told me to be careful.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Okay, he had to reel in his emotions. He realized he was definitely infatuated, more than merely intrigued with Holly. The feeling went too deep, consumed him with a fiery need too hot to quench with a few nights of passion. But that didn’t necessarily mean he wanted to spend the next sixty or seventy years with the woman, did it?

  He shoved open the barn doors and they went inside. He set to caring for the cattle while she went to the chicken feed. It was as if they’d done this every day for ages.

  He mixed cattle feed and lost himself in thought. Even his past few years of infrequent and carefully selected lovers had left him with enough encounters to know his experience with Holly eclipsed all others. What must she think of him? For some mysterious reason, she’d hated him before yesterday.


  After last night, a giant change had occurred in their relationship. It wasn't just the great sex, either. And man, the sex had blown his socks off. The way she handled herself at first left no doubt of her inexperience, but what a fast learner she turned out to be.

  The change in her between and after the countless times they had sex astounded him. She had snuggled against him, exchanged confidences as if they were truly one, and seemed loathe to stop talking even when sleep claimed their exhausted bodies. In short, Holly now seemed to accept him with at least a fondness and easy companionship.

  Could it be that she was at least a little infatuated with him? Imagine that? Trent Macleod, the orphaned sailor with no degree but hard knocks, linked to a classy woman like Holly Tucker? It boggled his mind. Still, he’d watched this sort of thing in others too often. Passion flared, then cooled, and the couple parted. That had to be it. Sure, he was the only boat in port. Soon he'd have his fill of her and she of him.

  Who did he think he was he kidding? She might tire of him, but he was pretty sure he’d never get his fill of her.

  He knew a guy like him didn’t deserve a woman like Holly. What could he offer a treasure like her? So, if things were as bad as he feared and his craving for Holly wasn’t just lust, but something deeper, and if her attraction developed for him, and if this Marvel deal worked out, he could ask her to be his.

  A hell of a lot of ifs, Macleod.

  Once again he prayed that his finances were solvent, the meeting postponed to be followed by success. Otherwise, he not only had nothing, Holly’s own finances and those of her family plus the jobs of their employees were in jeopardy.

  He pitched hay and remembered what people told him about when he first arrived in Dallas. "I heard that if you don't like Texas weather, wait three days and it’ll change."

  She laughed and went into the chickens’ pen. “True. The ice will start melting later today, but it’ll only refreeze tonight.”

  “So, tomorrow we should be able to get away from this lovely ranch vacation, huh?” To what would he return? Worry’s knife sliced through his gut.

  “Yes, at least by ten or eleven after the sun melts the ice. And won’t we be sorry to see the last of this barn?”

  When Trent first became aware of Marvel, he’d found a stagnant company, drained of its life and resources by Walter Tucker and his voracious excesses that flirted with fraud. Flirted? There was no other word for it but embezzlement. Trent planned to revitalize the company with immediate action. He knew only dramatic measures would save the firm and the jobs of those who worked there.

  He’d learned of Marvel from Grayson. How Joe Bob Grayson knew of Trent, he had yet to discover. When Grayson approached him, cautious excitement flooded Trent as his mind exploded with possibilities. If not Grayson’s support, though, he wouldn’t have attempted the purchase of a company whose operation was unfamiliar and cash reserves diminished.

  "Hey, Macleod." Holly nudged him with her egg basket. "Are you going to admire the scenery until we both freeze?"

  He took the wire basket from her and his other arm crushed her to him in a bearish embrace. "This should warm you up." His lips claimed hers, firm at first then gentling to explore her mouth. She molded against him and her arms slid under his jacket.

  When he broke the embrace, she stared up at him. The cold air put a flush in her cheeks, but he took credit for the hunger-glazed look in her luminous blue eyes. Lips the color of crushed roses, slightly parted with her warm breath forming frost in the air, tempted him.

  An unprecedented burst of optimism hit him. How could he fail this woman? He became a knight of old battling the fiery dragon of commerce for his fair ladylove. Or, maybe the pirate of his reputation slashing away at the chains pulling down the sinking ship, Marvel.

  He swooped up the container of eggs and pulled Holly with him toward the house. The icy ground invited caution where he welcomed reckless abandon. With a few near misses, they reached the kitchen without falling.

  Blue pushed by them and plopped onto his blanket. Trent set the eggs on the counter and whirled Holly into his arms. She laughed up at him before he lowered his mouth to hers.

  The ringing of his cell phone interrupted the kiss. After so long a silence, the sound startled them apart.

  Holly rushed to where she’d left her own phone, flipped it on, and dialed her home. The answering machine picked up so she left a brief message and disconnected. Before she could punch the auto-dial for her grandparents, she glanced up. The look on Trent’s face froze her in place.

  “Trent? What is it? Is the meeting rescheduled?”

  He closed the phone and slid it into his pocket. Without answering he headed for the back door.

  She rushed to head him off. “Trent? Please answer me.”

  He paused and she saw his shoulders heave with a great breath. Slowly, he turned. The animated excitement of a few minutes ago had changed to a pale stone mask.

  “That was Gordon. The Amberfield team came. Gordon took them on a tour and gave them our pitch, but they were pissed that I wasn’t there.”

  “Surely they understood that you can’t control the weather. And Gordon’s the Executive VP, so they shouldn’t feel slighted, for heaven’s sakes.” What was wrong with her? For a moment she’d forgotten she didn’t want these people to accept Trent’s offer.

  “They wouldn’t commit, dammit. They’re a conservative old New England firm. My having no track record in the industry is part of the reason they’ve dragged their feet on this. I’ll have to woo them back.” He struck the doorframe with his fist. “I should never have gone to Joe Bob’s in the first place. Then none of this would have happened.”

  His statement stung like a slap to her face and she fought the tears welling in her eyes. “No, none of it.” They’d never have made love, never have shared intimacies, probably never have done more than exchange stiffly polite greetings at work.

  He reached for her. “Hey, I didn’t mean I regretted what went on between us here, Princess.”

  Pain stabbed her chest and punched a hole in her gut. She stepped back, unable to express her grief.

  He shrugged. “What the hell, I can’t win. I’m going to check on the well.”

  Holly sat at the kitchen table. She shook, not with the cold, but with emotional turmoil engulfing her. None of this would have happened, he’d said. No matter how he denied it, she knew he regretted being here with her. She’d seen his face and heard the cold, flat tone of his voice.

  But they’d made love. Correction—he’d had sex, and she’d made love. And here she was falling in love with him. A man who cared only for business and whom she’d have to meet almost daily at work. Thank heavens she hadn’t blurted out her need for him. Did she love him? Surely not. Lust. That’s what she felt. Strong lust.

  How could she face him in meetings after she’d all but thrown herself at him? How could she put their time at this place behind her? How could she stay at Marvel and face him? How could she do otherwise?

  What was she going to do?

  ***

  Trent stopped inside the door and stamped his feet. “Ice is definitely melting where the sun shines and softening in the shade. Maybe we can leave by morning.” He didn’t meet her gaze but passed behind her to pour a cup of coffee.

  “It’ll freeze again tonight, by ten when the sun’s up good we’ll probably be able to leave.” She pretended nothing was wrong.

  His cell phone rang again and he turned away. “Macleod. Yeah, Gordon. I’m stuck here today but should be back by tomorrow night. I’ll be in the office early Thursday. Yeah, try to set up another meeting. Okay.” He faced her as he dropped the phone into his pocket. “I haven’t told him you’re with me, Holly. If you want to tell, that’s fine, but you know how people are. I didn’t want gossip about you making the rounds.”

  Maybe he cared a little about her. “Thanks. I’ve known some of those people since I was a child. I guess it would seem odd to everyon
e and to me when I faced them.”

  He flopped onto a kitchen chair and rested his elbows on the table. He sank his forehead onto his hands.

  “Cheer up, Trent. The storm’s over and the sun’s out. Soon we’ll be able to leave and you can reschedule your meeting. You look as if the world’s about to end.”

  He didn’t move. “It is, at least for me. You don’t realize how important this contract is for the company. Without it, Marvel won’t last more than another year.”

  “Why do you say that? Dad always said we shouldn’t diversify, that we should stick to the jobs we’ve always done. Fiberoptics is all people talk about, but we make the best wire and cable available.” She sat across from him.

  He raised his head. “For how long? You’re great dealing with people, Holly, but do you read the sales reports?”

  Caught. “They don’t come to me routinely, since that’s not a part of my job, but in the past I’d sometimes go by and read them in Dad’s office.” She shook her head. “Since Veronica left and we haven’t replaced her, I have such a heavy workload with three hundred employees at work and my family at home. Lately I’d just let Dad summarize it for me.”

  When she heard herself she was embarrassed. How careless she’d been. If her father had been mismanaging, she played right into his hands by letting him interpret the company statistics for her.

  Trent clenched his jaw and inhaled. “Why didn’t you replace this Veronica?”

  “Dad said we should hold off for now. It was just until spring when the daughter of a friend would be graduating and he wanted her to work for us.” Her father had manipulated her again. She closed her eyes. “You must think I’m the stupidest woman alive.”

  “No, but you have a real blind spot where your father was concerned. Princess, sales have been going down for two years. Probably more. Most of the Marvel customers have switched to fiberoptics. You still have some heavy industry cables, electrical wiring for builders, and other markets. The big sales are gone, though.”

  She took a deep breath. “I see. Dad was wrong.”