She sparkled. Her cheeks glowed pink as though they had been scrubbed with fresh snow. Stray curls escaped the loose braid down her back and caressed her face.
“I should leave you two alone more often.” She gestured to the coolers. “Look at all the chores you’ve done.”
“It was mostly Mitch.” Sloan patted the kid’s shoulder.
Mitch beamed at the praise and Allison gave her nephew a hug. “Thank you.”
Sloan tried to reconcile the picture of this loving woman against the ruthless attacks on Northstar. He couldn’t. His gut told him something was off, but O’Neal had the facts—Sloan didn’t. He owed it to the director to find the truth. No matter where this twisted journey led, he would do his damnedest to stay objective.
****
After breakfast, Sloan stirred the coals in the fireplace, prepping it for another log. The thought of Allison as the hacker weighed heavily on his mind. Tom’s evidence against her had to be wrong. A simple explanation would clear up the misunderstanding if only O’Neal wasn’t so adamant about not tipping their hand. The fallout from all the press releases made the director anxious, almost paranoid. Sloan recalled when he’d been in O’Neal’s office before he left for Idaho. He’d never seen the man in such turmoil.
Sloan didn’t like it, but was bound by his commitment not to say anything. Except he wouldn’t let it keep him from discovering the truth. He’d simply find it without saying anything to Allison.
Mitch rushed into the room as Sloan added a log to the fire. “It’s stopped snowing. Come and see.”
Sloan followed Mitch into the kitchen and looked out the window.
Like something out of a storybook fantasy, snow lay in mounds of pristine white as far as the eye could see. In the yard, pine trees bowed under the heavy, white layers. Sunlight broke through dark clouds, pushing them over the mountains. A brilliant blue sky edged in, bringing with it the promise of a clear day.
“Let’s go outside. You can wear this.” Mitch held up his father’s snowmobile suit.
Sloan frowned at the outfit.
“Come on. It’ll be fun.” Mitch’s eyebrows rose nearly to his red hairline.
“It probably won’t fit.” Sloan didn’t know if he could find a way out of the boy’s request without hurting his feelings.
“My dad’s almost as tall as you are.” Mitch stood on a chair, holding the suit at the shoulders. “See?”
“I’m not so sure…”
Mitch jiggled the material as though he was coaxing a pet to play. “Please?”
“What am I supposed to do once we’re outside?”
“Well, you have to clean off your car. You can’t drive with snow all over it. I’ll help.”
Sloan conceded the argument. “We need you at our negotiation tables in Washington.”
“Huh?”
“Never mind. Go get your aunt. If I’m going out, she’s coming too.”
Mitch gave him a toothy grin and handed over the snowsuit, then jumped off the chair and hurried out of the kitchen.
Sloan lifted the suit and saw that maybe it would fit. He sighed and draped it over the back of the chair.
Getting a little cold would be a small price to pay to keep his commitment to O’Neal. With Allison outside, he could keep an eye on her. She wouldn’t be able to turn on that power thingy and work on her computer while he was off playing with Mitch.
She walked into the kitchen as Sloan zipped up the front of the suit over his clothes.
“You’re really going out?” Her tone indicated she couldn’t quite believe it.
Well, he’d show her that he was just as tough as a nine-year-old. “So are you. Bundle up.”
“Did you reach O’Neal? Does he know what’s happened?”
“Yeah. He knows.” More than you realize…
Allison raised her eyebrows. “And?”
“Like Mitch pointed out, I have to clear off my car to drive. Might as well get a head start.” Skirting the real issue wasn’t getting easier.
“I can’t leave for L.A. with the power out. That trace I started last night is almost finished. Once the power comes back on, I’ll upload it to Tom. He’ll have it sooner than I can fly out there and redo all the work.”
“Then I’ll stay here.”
Allison’s eyes narrowed. “O’Neal won’t like that. You should go ahead and I’ll send the trace as soon as I can. Then I’ll catch a later flight.”
“It won’t matter until the roads are plowed.” He still couldn’t wrap his mind around Allison as a traitor. “Have you got snow boots that’ll fit me?”
She looked as if she might argue, then shrugged. “Yeah, we have boots.”
Once outside, Sloan felt catapulted into a winter wonderland. The cold hit him first. Even wearing the snowmobile suit and a borrowed hat, the icy air found a way inside his clothes. And then he smelled it.
Winter.
Not the heavy odors of January in the city, but crisp, clean air that smelled almost sweet. A whiff of damp pine and sage blended with the tangy scent of smoke from the fireplace. And the blinding glare… Sloan held a gloved hand to shield his eyes as he acclimated to the sun’s reflection off the snow.
“I think I can find spare sunglasses in the house.” Allison turned to go back inside.
“I have a pair in the car.” His reply stopped her from leaving.
“I’ll get the broom to clear off your car.” Mitch ran in the direction of the porch.
They spent the next few minutes clearing off Sloan’s rental while Mitch rambled on about how much nicer Sloan’s car was than his mom’s little sedan.
Once Sloan donned his sunglasses he’d left in the car, the wonderland took on a different appearance. He stared in awe at the horizon and marveled at the rugged, snow-covered skyline surrounding the gentle valley. This place was raw and wild with open splendor. Picture postcards with Christmas greetings didn’t even come close. He understood now why Allison chose to return home for her vacation.
What he didn’t understand was her desire to leave in the first place. Last night’s conversation echoed back to him. He guessed Allison needed to close herself off. Her survivor’s guilt must go deeper than he first suspected.
He glanced at her, decked out in a bright yellow winter coat over tan snow pants. She wasn’t wearing a cap, but had covered her ears with a red, fleece headband. Against the snowy backdrop, she looked like a model for a winter-wear catalog. His pulse quickened when she looked his direction and he no longer felt cold.
She walked over and handed him a snow shovel. “Start at that end, and I’ll start here. We’ll meet in the middle.”
He lifted an eyebrow at her words. Her cheeks grew pink. She turned quickly and headed to the other end of the sidewalk.
‘We’ll meet in the middle.’ Now there was a pleasant thought. He wondered if there could be a middle ground with Allison. He still believed she was an all-or-nothing sort of person.
For the next fifteen minutes, Sloan shoveled, working his way toward Allison.
“Snowman!” Mitch shouted across the yard.
Sloan stopped shoveling and watched Mitch start a palm-sized snowball and roll it across the virgin, white yard. It grew with each rotation, collecting more and more snow until it was almost the height of Mitch’s waist.
The boy pushed and shoved until he couldn’t move the snowball any more. “Sloan! Come and help me.”
Sloan picked up his last shovelful of snow and tossed it off the sidewalk, then planted the shovel in the snowbank before joining Mitch in the middle of the yard. Allison started another ball to add to the snowman.
The activity took Sloan’s mind off the case, and the fact his suspect was possibly standing right next to him—a suspect he enjoyed watching interact with her nephew.
They dug near the edge of the driveway to find stones for the snowman’s mouth and eyes. Allison broke off a twig from a nearby bush for the nose. Mitch found longer branches for the arms. By the
time they were finished, Sloan was grinning at the silly-looking fat man with a dirty face and skinny limbs. But it was Allison’s laughter, as clear and refreshing as the pristine snow that warmed his soul.
By lunchtime, the plows still hadn’t made it down the long side road and the power wasn’t restored yet. After eating cold sandwiches, Allison led Mitch and Sloan to a small hill behind the house that she and her sister used to sled on when they were little girls.
Although it wasn’t very tall, trudging up hill, pulling the smooth-bottomed sleds through nearly waist-deep snow, was a workout. Sloan was pleasantly surprised at how much fun he had sliding to the bottom.
Mitch had a clever idea to pile up the snow halfway down the hill to build a jump to catch some air. Sloan chuckled at the boy’s enthusiasm and worked alongside Mitch to build the jump.
“The roads aren’t cleared off yet,” Allison warned. “If you break an arm flying over that thing, we can’t get you to a doctor.”
“I’m not gonna break my arm, Aunt Allison. Don’t be such a sissy.” Mitch scrunched his nose.
“Well, she is a girl.” Sloan gave the kid a nudge with his elbow.
Mitch started to laugh. “Yeah, you’re right. I guess she can’t help it.”
Allison picked up a handful of snow, shaped it into a ball and threw it. Mitch ducked and the snowball splattered squarely on Sloan’s chest. Stunned, he looked down at his snowsuit and then at Allison. He couldn’t believe she’d hit him!
She burst out laughing. “You should see your face.” She was barely able to catch her breath.
A wicked thought flashed through Sloan’s mind as he whispered in Mitch’s ear. “Time to get even.”
“Yeah,” Mitch shouted. “Boys against girls.”
The war was on.
Allison scrambled toward the top of the hill to take advantage of higher ground. But forced to throw with her left arm, she didn’t move too far away.
Sloan and Mitch had the mound of snow they’d built for the jump to hide behind, which leveled the battlefield. Mitch stocked an arsenal of snowballs for Sloan to throw, while Allison could only fire a single shot at a time. She was hopelessly outgunned.
After several minutes, all three were covered in white. Laughter sparkled through the air like snow crystals captured in the sun.
Sloan instructed Mitch to keep throwing snowballs while he worked his way uphill on Allison’s left flank.
Not able to keep up with two attacking fronts, she focused on Sloan, throwing snowball after snowball as fast as she could slap them together.
Suddenly, he lunged at her, capturing her around the waist. They toppled to the soft ground and rolled. The hill’s gravity pulled them together as they rolled several feet and stopped just above Mitch’s jump.
Sloan landed on top of Allison. Somewhere in the tumble, he’d lost his sunglasses. He stared into her upturned face. Her hair had picked up snow and was sticking to her cheeks. He tried to move a strand, but his gloves dropped fluffy mounds onto her cheeks.
He took off a glove and brushed the snow and hair away. Her skin was warm. Droplets clung to her eyelashes as she stared at him. The length of her body fit perfectly beneath him. Through layers of winter clothes, an undeniable arousal stirred.
His face was inches from hers. Their breaths mingled in the cold air, creating miniature clouds of steam. The laughter in her eyes faded, replaced by a deep, blue flame summoning him to the depths of her soul. He lowered his head—just another centimeter…
A loud crack came from the side of the house.
Sloan pulled back and glanced around. “What was that?”
Allison blinked. “It sounded like a chunk of ice falling off the eaves.”
His eyes narrowed, but he didn’t move off her.
“We won!” Mitch bounded toward them from the bottom of the hill.
Allison shifted, and his gaze dropped once again to her lips. Even though she looked uncertain, she didn’t push him away. Instead, her breathing was shallow and quick as she continued to stare into his eyes.
At that moment, Sloan realized the Devil was a computer geek.
Chapter Ten
The cold, winter-afternoon air heightened all Allison’s senses. Sloan’s body atop her was the most delicious torture she’d endured in a very long time. His spicy pheromones surrounded her like an aphrodisiac. His weight held her captive between snow and sky.
Empowered by his signals—flaring nostrils and darkening eyes—she slithered under him. At the sensual sound of her slippery jacket against his, passion flared behind his half-lowered eyelids and her breath caught in her throat.
He felt so right.
Too bad they weren’t alone. Part of her wanted to abandon all reserve, and part of her was grateful for Mitchell’s presence. “Let me up.” Her words were miles away from her feelings. She didn’t want to move. She didn’t want him to leave her.
She wanted. Wanted him to touch her. Kiss her. Until the snow and the sky and the moon and the stars disappeared. She wanted to reach the heavens—and she wanted Sloan to take her there.
“That was fun.” Mitchell’s voice drew closer as he jogged toward them. “Sloan, I found your glasses.”
Sloan gave her one last heated look before rolling off and rising to his feet. He took his sunglasses from Mitch. “That was fun, wasn’t it, champ?”
He held a hand out to Allison and she took it. With one smooth pull, he helped her to her feet.
Allison took a moment to steady her breathing. Winter air and high elevation exerted certain stressors on the human body. Yet, Sloan’s nearness drained her in a completely different way. Her recovery wasn’t quick, but then, she noticed, his wasn’t either.
He took his time brushing snow off his cap and snowsuit. Removing his other glove, he whacked it against his thigh, then put both of them back on, not once glancing in her direction. For almost a full minute, he avoided her gaze.
When he finally looked up, she was struck by his dispassionate expression. The emotions that only moments ago had churned in the depths of his dark brown eyes, were gone. He slid his sunglasses on but not before she caught his bland, neutral gaze. Just like last night—he’d pulled away from her again.
Well, that was what she really wanted, wasn’t it? To stay uninvolved. Detached. She didn’t need him. She didn’t need anyone.
What she needed was to stay focused on the hacker. If the power would come back on, she could slip into her cyber-world where Sloan couldn’t touch her anymore.
Except he had touched her. In places more remote and sensitive than any physical contact. She feared it might already be too late to go back to the person she was before.
****
By evening, the power still hadn’t returned. The local crews had yet to clear the county road and there was no way to know if the state roads were open all the way to Boise. They were stranded, at least for one more night.
Allison shivered as Sloan held the match a moment longer to make sure the candle stayed lit. The flame flickered before taking hold of the candlewick.
The glowing flame drew the boundaries of intimacy closer. So many moments throughout the day—laughing with genuine humor at one of Sloan’s jokes, rejoicing in the teamwork when they completed the snowman, and the intoxicating weight of his body on hers—each moment had chipped away at her firewall. She’d let her guard down. Yet she didn’t feel hemmed in.
Somewhere between putting the sleds away and eating another cold meal, it had hit her. She no longer felt threatened by Sloan. She had allowed him all the way into her life.
With the road closed and power still out, she faced another night in Sloan’s company.
“Done!” Mitchell finished counting out the play money and announced it was time to roll the dice to see who went first. Sloan had suggested playing the banking board game to pass the evening. Mitchell had been fascinated by stories of how Sloan’s father managed the world of high-finance and property, comparing it to the gam
e. When he found out that Mitchell had never played, Sloan had insisted he learn.
Once the playing pieces were decided, Mitchell won the toss and took the first turn.
An hour later, Sloan and Mitchell had bankrupted Allison. Not once did Sloan give her nephew a break. Watching the two as they negotiated and bartered over cards and property, Allison realized that Sloan refused to play down to the level of a child. He treated Mitchell as an equal. He also treated Mitchell like the man of the house while his parents were away. Unbidden, her feelings for Sloan grew deeper.
She was a little envious of the attention Sloan gave Mitchell. Just once, she wished he would notice her—as a woman, not a coworker. Then she berated herself. They were coworkers. She had a job to do. She couldn’t let personal feelings get in the way.
Finding the hacker was paramount. That was much more important than her puny feelings. When she finished the program, Sloan would be on his way. She wouldn’t need to go to L.A. Once he was gone, she’d be safely alone again—able to put her life back together.
When she returned to the office after her vacation, these couple of days would only be a memory. If Sloan remembered his time here at all, it would be as a pleasant diversion. Not the sophisticated entertainment he was used to. Definitely not the heart-rending revelation Allison was experiencing.
“I win!” Mitchell’s triumphant shout brought her back to the present. Her nephew greedily rubbed his hands together while Sloan counted out his funny money to pay for the rent on the high-rent property.
Mitchell tallied his winnings. “I like this game,” he told Allison. “How come you and Mom don’t play it?”
She shrugged. “Too many other things to do, I guess. When your mom gets home, we’ll play again.”
“We could play it again tomorrow while Sloan’s here,” Mitchell suggested.
Allison didn’t want to think of Sloan leaving, but it was inevitable. “If he’s still here,” she corrected. “And if he wants to.”
“Hey, now who’s talking like I’m not here. I get some say, don’t I?” Sloan smiled at Mitchell.
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