by Allie Burton
“Driving on this mountain isn’t smart. I hate cold and ice. I hate the mountains. I hate Castle Ridge.” She wallowed in her pity party. “I want a sunny beach and a tropical drink with a colorful umbrella in it.”
The unexpected male chuckle shocked her out of the snit. “Give Castle Ridge a chance. It’s a great town.”
His deep laugh rumbled inside her and thawed parts of her body. Maybe she didn’t need a pity party, maybe she needed a private party for two. With this handsome man. Her pulse galloped. She usually made a man buy her dinner before taking them to her bed. With this guy, she’d make an exception because his laugh thawed her from the inside out.
Before she made a fool of herself by coming on to him, she braced her hands against the car. The real rescuers were here, it was time for her to leave. Her fingers were ice. Her body was weak. And she had a steep trek up the mountain. “If you’ll excuse me…”
“Hold on.” The grasp of his strong hands around her waist sent a thrill through her. “It’s a lot harder getting back up. I’ll help you.”
“You should help him.” She glanced back and quaked. The man who’d gone partially through the windshield hadn’t moved. No moaning or crying out. Not a good sign.
Her rescuer placed his hand on her chin and forced her to stare at him and not at the accident. “We’ve got plenty of crew to help. What’s your name?” His sympathetic modulation told her he was trying to distract.
He already distracted her. His masculinity and his kindness.
She wanted to curl up next to him. “Vivienne.”
“Hi Vivienne. I’m Paul.” His gaze held hers, willing her to stay focused. “I’m assigned to take care of you.”
Paul’s arm around her waist moored her to the mountain so she didn’t slide farther. It also moored her emotions. She found it difficult to process what was happening around her with him so close. His closeness was a sedative, or an aphrodisiac. “Lucky me.”
His bright grin comforted. “I’m going to tie this rope around your waist and attach you to me.”
His words were professional, so why did a random kinky thought about ropes flash in her brain? She giggled.
His head angled in curiosity, studying her. “Did I say something funny?”
Heat suffused her cheeks. At least one body part was warm. Thinking of curling into him had inserted lustful thoughts into her mind. “No. Nothing. Sorry.”
“Did you hit your head when you fell?” The bulk of his body blocked the frigid wind.
“No.” She must be in shock, panicked at the events. Her mind was retreating from reality. That’s what happened when she got nervous. Although these days she rarely got nervous.
The inappropriate thoughts continued to scramble her brain as he tied the rope around her waist and double-checked she was secure. Her butt rode up against his crotch and she couldn’t stop the unbidden sexy thoughts running through her mind or the answering response between her thighs.
Stop it, Vivienne.
The man was doing his job and all she could think about was having sex. She was a young, sexually-active woman. When she had urges, she found an appropriate partner and they mutually satisfied each other. This was different. She wanted to cuddle with this man even though they currently climbed up the side of a mountain. This instant lust toward a guy she hadn’t even seen clearly was completely out of her experience. Normally, she was attracted to a guy’s appearance and his brains. With Paul, it had been the confidence in his voice, the heat off his body, and the kindness in his heart.
To be a rescuer, a person must care about others.
The climb up took much longer than her slide down. The entire time she focused on Paul rather than what was going on around them. She heard the other firefighters speaking on their walkie-talkies. Heard the drone and clash of equipment. More rescuers climbed in the opposite direction. Heavy equipment was being taken out of the firetruck when she and Paul reached the edge of the road.
“What’s that?”
Untying their ropes, he peered behind them at the equipment. “Jaws of life.”
Her legs gave out from beneath her and he held her tighter to his chest. She clung to Paul with frozen fingers—he was her lifeline. The one thing grounding her to the present, and not the past.
Images from the past assaulted her. Another cold night. Another icy road. They’d used the jaws of life that night too. A slow, jagged quiver went through her.
“Are you okay?”
The steady beating of Paul’s heart soothed her, became a calming song. Something she clung to. Was she okay? She had to be. She’d had to carry on then, and she had to carry on now. “Fine.”
She took a step back and his arms dropped from around her. She missed the comforting warmth. “Well, thanks.” Pivoting, she stumbled.
He grabbed her arm stopping her from hitting pavement. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“Castle Ridge Lodge.” That’s where she was staying, right? Her mind dazed and every muscle in her body ached. She shivered from the frigid cold. Or was she in shock? She couldn’t make sense of what had happened, the current environment, or even her body’s reaction.
“Not until I check you out.” He had hold of her arm.
Jerking her arm out of his grasp, she expected him to ogle her body. That’s what guys did when they were checking her out. Except he continued to frown, and his gaze focused on her face. She probably looked frightful. Not the normal blonde bombshell men usually noticed. He probably didn’t want to sleep with her.
“Let’s step over to my ambulance.”
Her brain was definitely fuzzy. He’d meant something completely different. Only her mind was scattering in twenty different directions. “I’m fine. I wasn’t in this accident.” Not this one. A different one. When she’d been eight years old. And her life had changed.
“You’re trembling.”
“From the cold.”
He wrapped a silver, papery blanket across her shoulders. “I can tell you’re upset. Possibly shock. Let me drive you to Castle Ridge.”
Her chin jerked up. “In the ambulance?”
“No.” His quick smile showed humor.
Of course not. They needed the ambulance for the true accident victim.
“I don’t want to deal with another crash tonight.” His reasonable and responsible tone carried the weight of the world. “You’re in no shape to drive.”
He was right. She’d hated driving this road before she’d spotted the accident. Between the shivering and the fuzzy head and the need to not be alone, she didn’t know if she could drive. She wanted him to accompany her. “Don’t they need your help?”
His expression went grim, the lightness gone as he surveyed the scene. “I was doing a ride-along supervising a new recruit. They’ll be fine without me. I’ll tell the captain the plan, get some ointment for the scratches on your hands, and be right back.”
The lights from the emergency vehicles spotlighted his nice butt chasing away her nerves for a minute. Rounded, muscular cheeks attached to long legs. When they were standing next to each other he’d dwarfed her, and she was tall for a woman. His broad shoulders had been strong and sturdy when she’d clung to him as they’d climbed. And now the helmet was off, his lush blond hair blew in the wind.
So engrossed in cataloguing his attributes, she couldn’t even gage the time it took for him to run to the firetruck, stop at the ambulance, and climb into her car. “Sorry, about getting dirt in your car.”
He started the engine and she emerged from a hazy mind cloud. “It’s a rental.”
“Let me see your hands.” He held up a plastic tube of ointment and a small disinfectant packet.
Holding out her hands, she couldn’t stop the shaking. Even as he patted the small cuts and applied the ointment her hands shook. Her entire body shook, from her legs to her fingers. Reaction from the accident had stirred up nightmares. She wanted to close her eyes and wake up somewhere safe. Preferably in Paul’
s arms.
“Castle Ridge Lodge. Rental car. You must be visiting from out of town.” Disappointment edged his words.
The emotion echoed inside her. Even in her current frightful state, was he interested? He intrigued her, made her feel safe, and turned her on at the same time. Her thoughts on the side of the mountain returned and heat coiled inside her about to spring.
She hadn’t planned on a seduction during her short business trip to Castle Ridge. Maybe she had knocked her head because she didn’t want to be alone in a strange hotel room tonight. Bedding a stranger wasn’t wise and she refused to ever need a man.
But she could want one…
Chapter Two
“This is my room.” Vivienne fluttered the key card in a wave, trying to entice. Desperation clawed through her lungs. She didn’t want to be alone. She wanted to feel alive. She wanted Paul to make her feel alive.
“You should take a hot shower right away. It will help you get warm.” Paul’s full lips straightened into a line of concern.
She wanted to see more than concern on his expression. She wanted to see desire.
The blue of his eyes would deepen to cobalt. His aquiline nose would flare. The scruffy chin on a determined jawline would mellow. And those full lips would melt against hers.
He’d driven her down the mountain at a safe, slow speed. The entire time she’d watched his strong, ring-less, capable hands on the wheel and imagined them on her skin. Imagined they’d be rough against her softness. Imagined the reaffirmation of life.
He’d noticed something amiss, saying she looked flushed, caring about a complete stranger. If he’d known her wicked thoughts maybe he would’ve driven faster.
They’d arrived at Castle Ridge Lodge and he’d waited while she’d checked in and then carried her gold suitcase to the door.
“You should take a hot shower, too.” Inside, she purred imagining how hot the shower would be if they were in it together. Water sluicing down his carved pecs, her hands running across his tight abdomen and rock-hard butt.
Is one of the after-effects of shock horniness? After the severity of the accident the best way to feel alive was sex.
Redness crept up beneath the scruff of his beard. “Well, yes. When I get home.” He slipped off his shoes and left them in the hall. “Let me help you in with your bag.”
Considerate. Concerned. And sexy as hell.
The trimmed beard and mustache matched the wild blond hair. Rugged and outdoorsy, he was a mountain man. She never went for the brawny-unpolished type. The way her nerve-endings sparked, she was attracted to this guy though.
“Thanks.” Opening the door, she knew he wouldn’t take advantage of her. He was a gentleman, completely trustworthy. More’s the pity.
Taking off the ruined boots, she unbuttoned her coat and scanned the room. Mountain casual furniture with a log headboard and dresser. A dark wood desk with comfortable chair. Printed curtains drawn over the large window. A small kitchen area with coffeemaker and refrigerator. Nothing fancy. Cozy. It fit the town’s atmosphere.
His phone buzzed, and he set the suitcase down inside the door. Glancing at his phone, his eyes dimmed, and his expression went gloomy.
“What’s wrong?” She took off her coat and dropped it on the bathroom floor trying not to get drips of water and mud throughout the entire room.
His frown deepened etching sadness on his face. “The driver in the accident died.” His stoic tone told her he’d seen many deaths in his career.
Empathy for the driver’s family and friends darkened her attitude. She understood what they’d be going through. The emotions brought her back to that one night. The overpowering noise of the car hitting a tree. Her scream. The strong winds forcing through the broken windows. The snow blowing into the car. And the silence.
Her parents not responding. And she’d been alone. All alone.
Her chest hollowed, and her throat went dry. She didn’t want to remember any more from that long ago night. She’d lived. Was alive now. And a good-looking man stood right in front of her.
“Oh, Paul.” She reached out for a hug needing his warmth, unsure if she was comforting him or the opposite.
His body stiffened, and he wrapped his arms around her. Tight. The strong bands created a cocoon of safety. She pressed against him, reveling in his strength. Heat emanated through his open jacket and heavy cotton shirt. She tilted her head back and stared into the blue pools of his eyes.
A frisson passed between them. She’d sensed this connection on the side of the cliff believing it had been fear. This connection was different. One of empathy and understanding. And desire.
This instant bond was similar to the rope tying them together on the mountain. It tugged her closer, making her believe this was okay. She wanted to feel alive tonight.
Pressing her mouth to his, she discerned a lingering taste of coffee behind mountain freshness. His scent of earth and sweat was perfume to her heightened senses. Her lips moved in a gentle, coaxing gesture. He responded, his mouth moving against hers in an urgent motion. Hard. Rough. Needy. He wasn’t immune to this magical tether. Maybe he needed to feel alive, too.
Her limbs weakened, and he held her closer. She opened her mouth, inviting him inside with her tongue. He answered the invitation. His tongue swept through her mouth, tangling with her own in a sensual dance. One hand left her back and dug into her hair, his fingers massaging her head.
The electric touch kindled nerve endings shooting flares across her body. She needed him. The intensity of her kiss changed. She let her hands roam over his broad shoulders, his trim waist, his muscular buttocks with quick, hurried motions. Her hands moved to his chest, sensing the strong muscles beneath. Fingering the buttons on his shirt, she started to unclasp.
He grabbed hold of her hands, clutching them between his. “No. We can’t.”
Disappointment speared through her. “Are you on duty?”
“No. I—”
She cut him off with her mouth, not wanting excuses. She wanted to make love, to have a strong man’s arms around her, to feel alive and loved. Relying on a male for most things was pointless, but most men were willing and able to handle sex. With no attachments and no regrets.
“Vivi.” He murmured against her lips, the slight movement creating a response inside her. The shortening of her name creating a different, pleasant response. “We don’t even know each other.”
“You’re not married, are you?” She’d noticed no ring on his left finger when he’d driven her down the mountain.
His eyes opened wide. He hadn’t expected the question. “No.”
She unbuttoned the first button. “Seeing someone?”
“No.” Gently, he pushed her hands away.
Frustrated, she paced to the edge of the bed. If she couldn’t undress him, she’d undress herself. She unzipped her pants and kicked them from around her feet. Standing in front of him in a long sweater and panties, she heaved a breath. It wasn’t a sexy mewl or a coquettish ploy. It was desolation. “A person died tonight.”
He stepped toward her and laid a hand on her arm. A sympathetic touch, and also one stopping her from completely undressing. “It’s difficult the first time you see someone die.” He spoke with weary resignation and she understood that not only had he seen death before because of his job, he’d experienced the loss of someone special.
“I’ve seen people die before.” A shadow passed through her. She didn’t want to remember. She took his hand and moved it to her breast. “In a car accident.”
He jerked his hand away. “I’m sorry.”
“After witnessing the accident tonight,” she gripped the edge of her sweater and pulled it over her head. “I want to feel alive.”
His mouth dropped open and his eyes rounded, gleaming with appreciation, and she hoped lust. “Vivi.” He swallowed, and his large Adam’s apple moved up and down.
Men loved her body. It was her mind they often forgot she possessed. Which was ad
vantageous when making deals, although she didn’t use sex in business. She had a strict no sleeping with clients policy. When she found someone attractive, who understood the rules, she’d boldly make the first move. She’d never had to beg.
Tonight, she needed him. Needed the distraction and needed to feel alive. And also needed to not be alone.
Sucking in her stomach, she held her breath and made a final plea. “Please, make me feel alive.”
* * *
The clothing around Paul Bradford’s hips seemed to tighten because of his growing cock. His pulse beat at a fast pace debating Vivienne’s request. This amazing woman tried to save a stranger from an accident tonight. She’d risked injury and faced some of her own demons. Now, she begged him to make her feel alive.
He understood. Felt the same desperation when he’d lost his parents and felt it every time he lost a victim on the job so much it had become part of the job.
He knew nothing about her other than her first name. He did know he wanted her. Wanted her with a passion he hadn’t experienced in a long time. A passion he hadn’t allowed himself. Too busy with the kids, and the job, and making ends meet. With her touch and her request, she’d already brought him back to life.
Temptation tingled along his spine bringing every nerve ending to a sizzle. Should he return the favor?
Having sex in her current state, wasn’t right, even though she begged. He didn’t want to leave her alone either. If he said no right away, she’d kick him out of her room and he wasn’t quite willing to let her go yet.
Her emerald eyes were a bit wild. Her curly blonde hair damp and untamed. The smooth white color of her cheeks tinged with red. Flushed or hot for him? The red bra plumped her lush breasts, exposing the creamy mounds. Slender waist and round hips he wanted to grasp. And legs going on forever.
Still undecided, he took a step closer tugged by an invisible thread. Something about her drew him forward. It wasn’t her gorgeous looks or smoking body. It was something deeper. Something he sensed in the grasp of her slender hand.