Fire Beneath the Ice

by Helen Brooks

  "I see." He settled back a little further in his seat and she waited for the explosion. It didn't come. Instead he surprised her utterly by reaching forward, after a long moment of studying her angry eyes, and cupping her face between his large hands.

  "You have to be the most beautiful lady I have met in my life," he said quietly, 'as well as the most enchanting. Look at the sky. "

  "The sky?" She was beginning to feel she was caught up in one of those awful plays that appeared now and again on television with no beginning and no end and utter confusion all the way through.

  "What?"

  "Wait." He had left his seat and walked round to her door before she could move, helping her out of the car and then slipping his arm round her waist as he turned her head upwards towards the black, velvety sky overhead. The night was icy-cold, with the smell of frost in the clear dry air, and the dark blanket overhead was pierced with a hundred tiny twinkling stars in which the clear orb of the moon sat in silent splendour as it surveyed the world beneath.

  "The sky." He had pulled her back against him so his body was the length of hers, his chin resting in the pale silk of her hair and his arms holding her securely against his hard frame. She didn't see the sky. Every part of her was vitally aware of the powerful male body behind her, the smell and feel of him sending a million tiny signals to nerve-endings she had never known she possessed.

  "Beautiful, isn't it?" he asked softly.

  "Yes." She had begun to tremble, but for the life of her she couldn't control the faint tremors. All she wanted, more than anything else in life, was for him to kiss her. And then he did just that.

  "You're cold." He had noticed the shaking she couldn't hide and turned her round to face him, pulling her hard into him as his mouth took hers in a kiss that curled her toes. His mouth was urgent and hungry as they stood there in the shadowed darkness, the crisp clean air and faint smell of winter adding a poignancy to the moment that stayed with her for a long time afterwards.

  "Lydia..." His voice was a groan, almost a tortured sound in the still air, but in the next instant she was free as he moved her from him, his breathing harsh and ragged as he stared down into her face.

  "This is ridiculous, you know that, madness..."

  She couldn't move, couldn't say anything, although she wanted to. All she could do was to stare up into his dark, handsome face and wonder how she was going to get through the rest of her life after she said goodbye to this man.

  And it was imperative she said goodbye, and soon. This dark force, this overwhelming attraction that drew her to him like a moth to a flame would destroy _her peace of mind forever if she wasn't careful. He wanted a brief dalliance, a temporary affair at the most, the sort of game he was used to and enjoyed. And she wanted. She stepped back from him so sharply that she almost fell. She wanted nothing. Nothing. She wouldn't let it be any other way. If she wasn't strong now she would regret it the rest of her life.

  "Shall we go in?" Her voice was as flat as she could make it, but nevertheless she heard the little tremor in its depths and hoped he didn't.

  "In?" He had been staring at her, his eyes hungry on her mouth and his face dark with desire.

  "In to the hotel," she said carefully.

  "It's cold out here." It was true, the air was cold with a biting quality all of its own, but the chill that was emanating from deep inside her was far more wintry than anything Mother Nature could dredge up. He wanted her for one thing and one thing only. He hadn't even tried to pretend otherwise.

  And she felt vulnerable here, in this bleak, beautiful part of Scotland with its majestic beauty and harsh, untamed mountains. He was too seductive, too powerful, too fascinating. "Of course." He instantly slipped back into business mode, his face straightening into its habitual handsome mask that revealed little and his eyes veiled.

  "You must be freezing." She was, but the weather had little to do with it.

  He tucked her case under one arm, holding his with the same hand, and took her elbow in his other hand, and she felt the contact like an electric shock.

  His touch was light, but it burnt through her clothing like fire, each nerve vitally aware of his closeness. Idiot, idiot, she cautioned herself as they walked towards the main door, but it didn't help. He only had to touch her and she turned _to jelly. So she had to make sure he touched her as little as possible. It was up to her. But it was going to be hard. She glanced at his cold, handsome face from under her eyelashes. Very hard.

  _the interior of the hotel was even more impressive than the outside, and as they entered the sumptuous lobby a bellboy moved forward instantly to relieve

  Wolf of the suitcases at the same moment as the receptionist glanced up from her desk, the practised, cool smile warning considerably as her eyes fastened on Wolfs tall frame.

  "Mr. Strade." The smile warmed to gas mark nine. "We've been expecting you, sir. Your usual suite is ready."

  "Good." Wolfs smile was polite but not particularly enthusiastic, but it didn't seem to cool the girl's interest an iota, if the bright gleam in her eyes was anything to go by.

  "Would you prefer dinner upstairs, sir, or in the restaurant?" The receptionist's hard blue eyes nicked over Lydia briefly.

  "Your usual table has been reserved in case you chose to dine there." She smiled up at him warmly.

  "The restaurant, I think." He turned to Lydia with dark eyebrows raised.

  "Would you prefer to eat there?"

  "I..." She pulled herself together with considerable effort as her mind raced. What was this about a suite? And where was her room? And she definitely would prefer to eat in the restaurant, surrounded by plenty of other people.

  "The restaurant." She smiled with her mouth as her eyes narrowed. He didn't think she was sharing. Of course he didn't. He couldn't. Could he?

  He could.

  "Come along." As the bellboy took the key _and picked up the suitcases again. Wolf led her towards the lift.

  "Where's my key?"

  "What?"

  She came to a halt just outside the lift and, as Wolf saw the expression on her face, he indicated for the bellboy to go ahead.

  "We'll be up in a moment."

  As the lift doors closed on the young man's studiously blank face, Lydia glared up at Wolf, her eyes darkening to coal-black ebony.

  "My key. Where is it?" she asked tightly.

  "You don't need a key." His voice was completely expressionless.

  "I have the key to the suite of which your room is one of two bedrooms. "

  "You've reserved a suite?" She was trying to keep her voice low, but anger was throbbing through every word and she was fighting a losing battle.

  "A suite?" she repeated furiously.

  "Yes, Lydia, a suite." His tone was infinitely patient now, his manner that of a responsible adult dealing with a difficult and troublesome child, which in the circumstances was calculatedly insulting. She glared at him angrily.

  "Well, you can just unreserve it," she said tightly.

  "I want my own room."

  "You've got your own room." His eyes narrowed on her flushed face.

  "In the suite."

  "There is no way I'm staying here in a suite with you," she said tensely.

  "I want my own room with my own key."

  "Dammit, Lydia!" The cool control was slipping, she 'noticed interestedly as he took her arm and roughly pulled her out of the way of an elderly couple who had come to stand just behind them, patiently waiting for the _lift, the woman's face bright with interest as she caught the last part of their exchange.

  "What the hell do you expect me to do, leap on you in the middle of the night?" he asked curtly.

  "I want my own room," she repeated resolutely.

  "I never dreamt--' " For crying out loud, woman. “He shut his eyes briefly and then glared at her in exasperation.

  "I always have the suite when I stay here, and knowing that it had two bedrooms I obviously assumed--' “I know what you assumed," sh
e said tightly.

  "I don't believe I'm having this conversation." He appeared, for once, completely out of his depth, and then as the lift doors opened she felt a gentle tap on her shoulder.

  "Excuse me, dear." The little old lady was standing behind her, her husband watching anxiously from inside the lift as she reached forward and murmured conspiratorially in Lydia's ear in a stage whisper that was clearly audible to Wolf,

  "You stick to your guns, my dear. There is too much of this free love these days-- ' " Right. That's it. “As Wolf took Lydia's arm and marched her few feet into the lift, the woman's husband made a swift exit to join his wife, taking her arm and walking swiftly in the opposite direction.

  "You are going to come up with me, inspect this damn suite and then see you've got nothing to worry about," Wolf said furiously as the lift took them effortlessly upwards. "Dammit all, Lydia, every other woman of my acquaintance would be mad if I hadn’t booked a suite--' " I'm fully aware of that," she said icily as she forced herself not to wilt under his temper.

  "And I am not “every other woman"." The phrase had cut through her heart like a knife.

  _"Tell me about it." He shook his head slightly as he leant against the side of the lift and watched her with eyes that softened suddenly as they ran over her flushed stiff face and tremulous mouth.

  "I haven't been in such a crazy situation since I was eighteen and out on a date in my first car when I really did run out of petrol. I seem to remember there was an interfering old busybody about then too, in the first car that came by. My girlfriend disappeared with her and that was the end of that. "

  He eyed her mockingly as she glanced at him once quickly before fixing her gaze somewhere over his left shoulder. “I’m really not some sort of sex-crazed animal, you know," he drawled slowly as the lift drew smoothly to a halt.

  "I don't know what impression you've picked up or what little stories or gossip you've been listening to, but I'm not completely without sensitivity."

  "Just morals." She didn't know what made her say it, perhaps it was the easy mockery in his voice and face when she was as tense as a coiled spring, but once out the words couldn't be retrieved and she stared at him aghast as the handsome face hardened into stone-cold granite and his eyes took on the texture of polished glass.

  "I'm going to do us both a favour and pretend I didn't hear that."

  She found herself ignominiously frog- marched out of the lift into a small corridor before she could protest. The bellboy had opened the door and placed their suitcases inside and at their approach he prepared to leave, pocketing the folded note that Wolf slipped him with a beaming smile which faded somewhat as he glanced at their grim faces.

  "I'm sorry. Wolf." As soon as the door had closed she launched into an apology before she lost her nerve.

  "That was a rotten thing to say and without foundation. I don't know anything about you--' _" No, you don't. “His face had relaxed at her words but now he walked across to the drinks cabinet in the far corner of the beautiful lounge, gesturing for her to be seated on the massive corner unit that wound round a large open fireplace in which several logs crackled. "

  What would you like to drink? “he asked coolly.

  "I don't--' She stopped abruptly. She didn't really drink, Matthew had never approved of alcohol and she wasn't keen on the taste, but she needed something to relax her a little if she was going to get through the rest of the evening without shattering into a hundred tiny pieces.

  "Sherry, please," she answered stiffly.

  He poured himself a stiff whisky and brought both glasses over to the set tee where she was perched nervously.

  "Come here." He placed the drinks on the coffee- table and took her hand, drawing her up and across the room to a door at the far end. "" This would be your room.

  It has its own en suite bathroom, so you needn't emerge until you are fully dressed, with your coat on if you wish. “He eyed her wickedly as she blushed a deep scarlet. The room was huge and very luxurious in soft shades of gold and red, an open door in one wall revealing a magnificent bathroom complete with sunken bath and the biggest shower cabinet she had ever seen.

  "There is another bedroom for me, again with bathroom," he continued blandly as he gestured for her to precede him out of the room, 'and you will notice you can lock your door from the inside. I could perhaps arrange for a bolt to be fitted if you're a little nervous? "

  "I'm sure that won't be necessary," she said tightly as she walked back over to the fire with burning cheeks. He was loving this, just loving it, but then she had made the most colossal fool of herself.

  Why, oh, why hadn't she waited and made sure of the facts before launching

  in with the veiled accusations? But he had just seemed so sure of himself, so in control, as though he had done this a thousand times before. And he probably had. She glanced at him now as he sat down beside her and reached for his drink. With a thousand different women. Her heart pounded violently. And that was what had made her so mad. The self-knowledge was a bitter pill to swallow.

  "I'll carry your suitcase through in a moment and you can freshen up a little before we go down to dinner." He glanced at her now and she felt her pulse leap at his closeness. She could cope with him in an office situation, just, but this was too informal, too intimate.

  "That is, if you're staying?" he added softly, with one raised eyebrow.

  "Of course I'm staying." She reached for her glass with a jerky hand and swallowed half the sherry in one gulp. She would have liked to edge down the set tee a little but didn't dare. The evening was enough of a disaster as it was without adding to her crimes.

  "I misread the situation before," she added, as coolly as she could.

  "That you did," he agreed gravely, but with an underlying throb of amusement in his voice that added to the heat in her cheeks. She swallowed the rest of the sherry without even realising what she was doing, and he took the empty glass and silently refilled it, sitting down next to her again with a little sigh.

  "It's been a hell of a day, hasn't it?" He stretched out his long legs as he spoke and she nodded a reply as she watched him through her lashes. He had leant back against the set tee closing his eyes, the glass of whisky held loosely in one hand, and she couldn't believe what the casual pose was doing to her hormones, the ones she hadn't known she had until _recently. He had to be the most sexy, flagrantly masculine, attractive man she had ever met in her whole-- "Would you like to phone and see how Hannah is?"

  She jumped so violently as he spoke that the rest of her sherry, which fortunately wasn't much as she had been sipping it unknowingly as she watched him, disappeared down the front of her blouse. Hannah.

  She felt a moment's deep and piercing guilt. Here she was, sitting positively ogling this man, lusting after him, and she hadn't given her daughter a thought.

  "Yes, yes I would. Where...?"

  "Over there." He gestured to the phone with one hand as his eyes narrowed on her flustered face.

  "And relax, Lydia. This is supposed to be the time of the day when you relax," he added grimly, frowning slightly.

  She spared him a cool smile as she rose hastily and walked across to the phone. If he'd read her thoughts. She felt her heart leap against her ribcage. But he couldn't. Thank goodness. A fragile defence but better than nothing.

  Hannah was fine, and after a brief conversation with her mother she turned to face Wolf again with a composure that was hard-won.

  "I'll just change..." She indicated her stained blouse and he rose immediately, carrying her case into her room without speaking and leaving quietly, closing the door behind him.

  She sank down on one of the large twin beds once she was alone, and willed her racing thoughts to slow down. She had to pull herself together: this just wouldn't do. She was acting like a teenager on her first date, for goodness' sake. She lay back on the soft cover for a moment and shut her eyes. But then, this was probably how people did feel on a date--she wouldn't know, wou
ld she? There had only ever been Matthew, after all, and he had always been as familiar as her own skin. She sat up abruptly and shook her head at her thoughts. Anyway, this wasn't a date, first or otherwise. She was going to have dinner with her boss on what was a brief business trip, and that was that. She reached for her case and began to unpack quickly. But that kiss. She made an exclamation of annoyance at herself out loud. That kiss had happened because he was trying it on to see how she would respond. It was as simple as that. She might be unworldly in his eyes, vulnerable even, but even she knew that most men were capable of sleeping with a woman without it meaning a thing. And he had already admitted that emotional ties, even the vaguest sort of involvement, were not his style. She bit her lip hard. He probably thought that if she had recently separated she would be missing that particular. ingredient of married life. Even that he would be doing her a favour? She reared up at the thought, and stalked into the bathroom as though Wolf himself had voiced it.