Wilde Thing

by Jannine Gallant

  Hannah glanced down. “That should do it. Ready to go?”

  Winnie gave a sharp bark and shook. Smiling, Hannah turned off the light and, helped by a gust of wind, opened the door then locked it after her dog scurried out.

  “Go pee while you have the chance. I don’t want to take you out the minute we get to Tripp’s place.”

  Apparently Winnie was feeling co-operative, or she hadn’t bothered to use her doggie door in a while. After she took care of business near a snow-covered bush, Hannah hurried toward the car. Opening the back door, she tossed in her overnight bag and the dog supplies.

  “Get in.”

  Winnie leaped up onto the seat then jumped to the center console to land on Tripp’s lap with a thud.

  “What the hell?” He jerked upright and blinked.

  Hannah slammed the rear door then slid onto the driver’s seat. “Sorry about that. She’s used to riding up front. Be glad she’s not a Saint Bernard.”

  One hand came up to stroke the dog’s long, brown and white fur. Winnie closed her eyes in obvious bliss and groaned.

  Why wouldn’t she? I bet most females respond that way to Tripp when he touches them.

  “Pretty. What is she?”

  “A King Charles Spaniel. Her name’s Winnie, although I should have called her Princess.” Hannah backed the car out of the drive then headed down the snowy street. “She expects to be treated like royalty.”

  “Why not? She’s a beauty. I like dogs, but I travel too much to own one.”

  “When I take out-of-town cases, I bring her with me. If my client has a problem with that, I cut them loose. I can pretty much pick and choose who I work with at this point.” She leaned forward to peer through the fogged up windshield then wiped it with the sleeve of her coat. “You steamed it up in here.”

  “Sorry for breathing. Who’s a bigger diva, you or your dog?”

  Hannah snorted on a laugh. “Hey, I worked hard to earn my reputation as the best in the business. There have to be a few perks to go along with it.”

  “Damn right.”

  They drove in silence, the headlights barely illuminating the road through the near whiteout conditions. As they started up the steep climb to his neighborhood, the engine strained as the car plowed through the deepening snow.

  “This storm came in fast and hard.”

  “No doubt.” She tossed him a quick glance as they reached the top of the hill. “Which way?”

  “Take Big Pine. I’m way down at the end. The house backs up to the forest.”

  “Nice. I bet you have a killer view of the lake.”

  “That’s why I bought the place.” He stroked along Winnie’s back as she turned on his lap to press her nose against the window. “The next driveway is mine. Damn, looks like I need to get out the snow blower.”

  “Not going to happen tonight.” Her Subaru bumped into the drive, and she stopped before the closed garage door. “At least there isn’t a berm since the plow hasn’t come by yet.”

  He shifted to pull his phone out of his pocket then pushed a couple of buttons. The door rose slowly.

  “You can park inside since my pickup is still at Squaw.”

  “That’ll make getting out easier for you with a sprained ankle.” She nosed into the garage then turned off the engine. “Why didn’t they send you home with at least one crutch?”

  “I have a pair from a broken leg a few years ago.”

  “Figures.” She let out a long breath. “We made it. I was beginning to wonder.”

  The big door rumbled shut behind them. An automatic overhead light illuminated the large, white-walled space.

  “You’re good at driving in the snow. Steady and sure with no overreactions.”

  “That’s me. I’ve never been a drama queen.” She stepped out of the car then hurried around to his side to open the door. “I’ll help you into the house. Get down, Winnie.”

  Her dog jumped to the concrete floor then set off to sniff the workbench set up in the front. A dozen or more pairs of skis stood in tall racks, and a long stack of wood filled the area near the door leading into the house.

  Tripp stood, holding on to the roof of the car with his left hand. “God, I hate being so helpless.”

  She slid in beside him to wrap an arm around his waist, enjoying the warmth emanating from his hard, muscled back beneath the sweatshirt. “Hey, everyone needs to lean on someone now and then. I can’t even begin to tell you how many times your family propped me up over the years.”

  He headed slowly toward the door. “I sure didn’t. What did the rest of the clan do for you?”

  “They were simply there, including me in whatever was going on, making me feel welcome.” Her throat tightened. “Like I belonged somewhere.” She pushed open the door into blessed warmth. “Careful.”

  Winnie brushed past them and headed inside.

  “She acts like she owns the place. Typical.”

  He flipped on a light to reveal a combination laundry and mud room with a stone floor and a carved wooden bench. Tripp dropped down onto it to pull off his boots. Hannah followed suit.

  He glanced her way and rolled his eyes. “Some moron put white carpeting in the living room. One of these days, I’ll get around to replacing it. Until then, I take off my shoes.”

  She grinned. “I can do that. Let’s go get you settled.”

  He grunted as he stood. “I feel like an old man. This sucks.” He closed his eyes for a moment. “Sorry, no more bitching.”

  “If it makes you feel better, swear up a storm. Believe me, in my line of work, I’ve heard it all.”

  “I bet. Athletes in pain are undoubtedly a vocal lot, but I’ll try to control myself. This way.”

  He headed through a kitchen gleaming with granite and stainless steel, flipping on lights as he went, past the dining area with a long walnut table and down a step into the living room with the dreaded white carpet. Floor-to-ceiling windows faced what Hannah guessed was a gorgeous view of Lake Tahoe. Currently, the only thing visible was a blur of white swirling through the dark sky.

  He sank onto a smoke-gray sectional couch and propped his injured foot up on a wood and glass coffee table. “Damn, it feels good to be home.” When Winnie crossed the carpet and jumped up beside him, he smiled. “Your dog seems to approve.”

  “Get down!”

  “Leave her.” Tripp laid a hand on Winnie’s back. “I don’t mind.”

  Hannah narrowed her eyes on the pair. “This is why she thinks she’s the queen of the world. I’ll go get my bag.”

  After bringing in her overnight case along with the dog supplies, she stopped in the kitchen to search the cherry wood cabinets for a glass to fill with water. Shaking a pill out of the prescription bottle, she headed back to the living room. “Here. Take this.”

  He complied without argument. “Thanks.”

  “You need to eat. Any ideas?”

  “I made lasagna a couple of nights ago.” He leaned back against the cushions. “There’s quite a bit left, and you’ll find salad stuff in the crisper drawer.”

  Her brows shot up. “You made lasagna?”

  “What? I like to cook.”

  “Aren’t you full of surprises?”

  He reached out to squeeze her arm. “Good ones, I hope.”

  A little thrill shot through her as she studied him for a long moment. Tripp was completely wiped out if the way he’d practically melted into the couch was any indication. Yet, there was still a hint of sparkle in his eyes and a flirtatious quirk to his lips. Hannah guessed he never completely turned off the charm. Men like him, ones who cared only about a woman’s appearance and not about her substance, usually left her cold. But for some reason, she wasn’t completely immune. She should know better.

  She cleared her throat and stepped away. “So far so good, but the night’s young. You still might morph into Mr. Hyde before the evening is over.”

  “Wil
l you run screaming into the night if I do?”

  “Lucky for you, I’ve dealt with worse. I don’t scare easily.”

  “Good, because I could get used to having you around. Hannah?”

  “What?”

  “Thanks.”

  The sincerity shining in his eyes took a chunk out of the protective wall around her heart. She’d have to be very careful around this man if she didn’t want to get hurt. Again.

  “You’re welcome.”

  Chapter 3

  Leaning against the kitchen sink, Tripp froze with the water glass halfway to his lips. Holy shit!

  The storm had let up, and a full moon rode high in the sky, shining over the lake to illuminate everything in its path…including the woman who stood before the French doors leading from the dining room out onto the deck. Hannah wore something thin and floaty. Her silhouette was clearly visible in the silvery light. Long legs, rounded hips, the barest hint of a curve at her belly, full breasts with pearled tips… He swallowed hard. The ache in his shoulder couldn’t compare to the sudden throbbing in his groin.

  Down, boy.

  This was Hannah, his sister’s best friend, his soon-to-be physical therapist. Getting all hot and bothered over her was definitely not a good idea, no matter how badly he wanted to touch those curves. He gritted his teeth and strongly considered pouring the glass of ice-cold water down the front of his boxers, which was all he had on except the sling. With any luck, maybe he could slink back to the bedroom before she noticed him. He wasn’t exactly going to be able to hide his reaction to seeing her if she flipped on a light.

  Turning, he stepped down a little too hard on his weak ankle and swore. “Mother fu…” Clamping his teeth together, he bit off the expletive.

  “Tripp?”

  He closed his eyes. “Yeah.”

  Silk whispered against skin as she rushed through the dining room. “Are you okay?”

  At least the shooting pain up his leg had taken the edge off his other…problem. “I’m not going to collapse or anything, but I should have used the crutch. What are you doing up?”

  She stopped a couple yards away with the center island between them. “I couldn’t sleep. What about you?”

  “Thirsty. Those pain pills gave me dry mouth.”

  “Do you need help getting back to bed?”

  The thought of those swaying breasts tucked up against his side with only a wisp of material between them… He let out a long breath. “I got out here on my own, so I think I can make it back, but it’s a damn good thing the master suite is on this floor.”

  “You could have slept on the couch. It’s toasty in here with the fire still burning. I added a couple more chunks of wood to the stove, by the way.”

  “Thanks.” He took a gulp of water then set the glass on the counter. “Good night, Hannah.”

  “Good night.”

  He limped out of the room and down the hall, wondering when Hannah Ryder had become the sexiest woman on the planet. Maybe it was her take-charge attitude, which was a hell of a lot more attractive than the hesitant mouse he remembered from her college years. He was tempted to ask her out. Maybe not while he was banged up and aching and wearing nothing but a pair of boxers, however. He’d give it a few days. She’d either grow on him, or not. In the meantime, getting to know her better promised to be an experience he wouldn’t soon forget.

  * * * *

  “Are you trying to kill me?” Tripp stretched out his arm, trying to touch the hand she held just out of reach. “Holy mother of God!”

  “You’re doing great.”

  Hannah’s encouraging smile grated on his nerves.

  “Two more reps and we’ll be finished.”

  Unless he died first. Sweat broke across his brow. “This can’t be helping.”

  “I promise you it is. I’m pushing you a little, but not outside the safe range of motion.” She gave him another quick smile. “A little farther. That’ll do it. You can rest now while I apply a cold compress.”

  He slumped against the wall. Freezing his shoulder off was almost as bad as the mobility exercises she tortured him with. “Something else to look forward to.” His voice dripped sarcasm.

  A grin curved her lips. “Don’t be a baby. Three weeks into rehab, and you’re making remarkable progress. Obviously, you’re a fast healer.”

  When she gestured toward the small seating area in the corner of his home gym, he headed over and took a chair by the window that faced out onto the forest. The sun peeked through cloud cover, and melting snow fell in clumps from tree branches to pock the deep powder below them. The day had warmed up to above freezing, but another cold front was predicted to move in at nightfall ahead of the next big storm. The most epic winter the Sierras had experienced in years, and he was missing all the action.

  “When can I ski again?”

  She stepped up to his side and applied an icepack. “Depends on what you mean by ski. Nothing in the way of competition for a few more weeks. A hard fall would undo all the healing you’ve accomplished.”

  “My ankle’s one hundred percent. Not a hint of pain, anymore.”

  “True.”

  He turned to face her, hope stirring. “Could I take a few easy runs, just for fun? Nothing strenuous. I need to get out on the mountain again. Being cooped up in the house is killing me.”

  Fine brows knit, and concern clouded her golden eyes. “That’s pushing it a little, Tripp.”

  “You could come with me to supervise. It’s a beautiful afternoon. Tomorrow will be another storm day, so this is our window of opportunity.” He topped off the plea with his most persuasive smile. “I promise I won’t hurt myself.”

  “No black diamond runs?”

  He wasn’t willing to go that far. “Just the ones I can manage with both hands tied behind my back.”

  Hannah rolled her eyes. “Show-off.” She hesitated for a long moment. “Will you quit if you start feeling any pain?”

  “Pain is a problem for you?” He adjusted the cold pack. “You have the nerve to mention pain after the suffering you just put me through?”

  “The abuse I dish out is directed and serves a purpose. I’m not kidding about stopping if you feel discomfort.”

  “Fine, I promise. The last thing I want is to set back my recovery.”

  “Then, against my better judgment, I’ll agree.”

  “Sweet!” He jumped up.

  She grabbed his good arm. “After you finish icing that shoulder.”

  “Anything you say.” He met her still skeptical gaze as she moved to stand by the window. “Maybe we can go out to dinner afterward. My treat to thank you for being such an excellent sport about this.”

  She leaned against the wall and crossed her arms over her chest. “How many times have I told you I don’t date clients? Ten? Twelve? Give it a rest, Tripp.”

  He couldn’t let the idea go. Getting Hannah to agree to go out with him was his new mission in life. His top goal—right behind skiing again. If he could accomplish both in the same afternoon… He pasted on what he hoped was an innocent, wide-eyed expression. “Dinner together doesn’t have to be a date, per se. Just a friendly meal. We both need to eat, after all.”

  “You’re pushing your luck. Again. I agreed to a few ski runs. Shouldn’t that satisfy your quest for adventure?”

  “For now.”

  She snorted then headed across the room. “You can take off the icepack in ten minutes. If we’re really doing this, I need to go home to change and get my ski equipment.”

  “Do you have a season pass for Squaw and Alpine? If not, I can get you a free ticket.”

  She paused in the doorway. “I have a pass. I’m not a fanatic about skiing the way you are, but I enjoy it.”

  “Good. I’ll swing by your house to pick you up in a half hour, if that works for you.”

  When she nodded and disappeared down the hallway, Tripp slumped against the chair to wai
t out his ten minutes and tapped his fingers with impatience. Nothing right now—except possibly enticing Hannah into bed—would do more to lift his spirits than getting out on the mountain. He planned to enjoy every last minute of it.

  * * * *

  Hannah pushed off the chair lift at the top of KT-22 and skied behind Tripp to the edge of the bowl. A cold breeze stung her cheeks, but she didn’t mind. The blood pumped fast through her veins to keep her warm. Skiing with Tripp, even when he swore he was taking it easy, was nothing if not invigorating.

  She glanced around as the long shadows faded into dusk on the nearly deserted mountain. “Last run. The sky is getting darker by the minute.”

  “It’s past four o’clock, so they’ve probably stopped loading chairs by now. I love this time of day, after all the crowds have left.” Resting one gloved hand on her shoulder, he pointed with his other. “Ski straight down and then head over to the right. This run isn’t too difficult for you, is it?”

  “No, I can manage.”

  “That’s the spirit.”

  She followed him as he dropped into the bowl. As usual, the beauty of his effortless turns mesmerized her. In the flat light, she didn’t notice the bump until she hit the edge and went flying. Arms windmilling, she caught her balance just in time to avoid a face-plant. When she reached his side where he waited for her near some trees, she was out of breath and shaking.

  “Nice save.” He flashed a smile in the gloom.

  Heat crept up her neck. “You saw that?”

  “I caught the tail end of your performance when I glanced back to check where you were. I thought I was going to have to hike back up to dig you out.”

  “I’m glad I saved you the trouble.”

  He squeezed her arm then turned to gaze out across the mountain. Barely visible against the darkening sky, the Olympic Lady chairlift carried a final few skiers toward the top of East Face.