“Aww...you found him.” A big smile bloomed on the woman’s face. If he thought that she was beautiful before, she was even more of a knockout when she smiled. “You’re such a naughty boy for running off. Come here, Gizmo.”
“Gizmo? What kind of name is that?” Jackson attempted to get to his feet. He failed.
The woman’s brows drew together, but she didn’t move to help him. “What’s wrong with his name?”
Jackson sighed. “It’s a bit cutesy for a boy, don’t you think?”
“Cutesy?” Her green eyes darkened to a shade of deep jade.
“Never mind.” What did he care what she named her dog? If his head wasn’t pounding, he would have kept his thoughts to himself. He would have to make a mental note to tread carefully going forward. Without Mae’s help, he hefted himself to his feet.
In the meantime, she picked up the dog and brushed snow from Gizmo. “We need to get you home and in front of a fire. You poor baby.”
As Jackson brushed himself off, he couldn’t help but watch how the woman oohed and aahed over the dog. What amazed him the most was how the dog was eating up the attention as though it knew exactly what she was saying.
Mae turned to Jackson as though an afterthought, holding out a stick. “Here you go.”
He accepted the sturdy-looking branch. Somehow it made him feel like some sort of Paul Bunyan figure. Although his suit and dress shoes would definitely suggest otherwise.
“How in the world did you find Gizmo?” she asked.
Jackson couldn’t actually admit to having done much of anything, but if she wanted to give him partial credit, who was he to reject it. After all, if he hadn’t thought of the crackers in his pocket, the dog might have run off again.
“We sort of found each other. And he likes the same crackers as I do.”
“Crackers?”
“Yes. I have some in my pocket. They were supposed to replace my lunch, but I got distracted when I turned on the wrong road and my GPS wouldn’t work out here. Anyway, I forgot about them.”
She nodded as though she understood, but there were still unspoken questions in her eyes. “I hate to say it, but the snow’s not letting up. If anything, it’s getting heavier.” She frowned as she glanced upward. “I threw a bunch of snow on the fire when I was looking for Gizmo. I think it doused it. If not, this heavy snow should take care of it.” She turned to him. “Are you ready to hike out of here?”
“I don’t see where I have a choice.”
“I’ve got to carry Gizmo because the snow is starting to get too deep for his short legs. And I’ll take your bag as you’ll need all your energy to move on your good leg. But you can put your arm over my shoulder to balance yourself. Hopefully between that and the cane, you’ll be able to make it back to the cabin.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
He got a firm grip on the stick and placed an arm over her shoulders, trying not to put too much pressure on her. He felt guilty that he couldn’t even relieve her of his bag, but she was right, anything more would unbalance him. His ankle was really starting to throb now that the adrenaline was wearing off.
She glanced over at him. “Thank you for finding Gizmo.”
“You’re welcome.”
Were those unshed tears shimmering in her eyes? But in a blink, they were gone. And he wasn’t sure if he’d imagined them after all.
At least, they were now even. He glanced over at his snow angel. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid his eyes on. It was hard to miss her stunning green eyes. They were unforgettable and strangely familiar. But that was impossible, right? After all, she was here in Austria and he was from New York City.
But the more he thought about it, he realized that she spoke with an American accent. Now, that he found interesting. What was an American woman doing in Austria at Christmastime? Did she have family here? Or was it something else? Perhaps it was the journalist in him, but he was curious about her story. And then he wondered if she might have an interesting story—something to humanize the holiday segment that he’d flown here to film.
He assured himself that it was professional interest—nothing more. After all, he was off the market. Ever since his wife passed away, he’d kept to himself. No one could ever fill the empty spot in his heart and he had no desire to replace his wife, not now—not ever.
Their progress was slow but steady. He felt bad for holding her back. “Why don’t you go on ahead?” he suggested. “You’ve got to be cold.”
“No colder than you. And I’m not leaving you out here. You don’t even know where my cabin is.”
“I can follow your tracks—”
“No. We’re in this together.”
Boy, was she stubborn. Even though it irked him that Mae was out here in the frigid air on his account, a small part of him admired her assertiveness. She would certainly be a tough nut to crack during an interview. Those were the interviews he enjoyed the most. The ones where he had to work hard to get the interviewee to open up—to get to the heart of the matter.
A lot of his peers would disagree and say that an interview should flow smoothly. But he wasn’t afraid of confrontation—of setting matters straight. But being stuck on the morning news cycle, he didn’t get to do many meaty interviews—certainly not as many as he would like.
They continued on in silence. And that was quite all right with Jackson. His head hurt. No, it pounded. But that pain was nothing compared to his ankle. However, he refused to let any of that stop him.
He clenched his jaw as he forced himself to keep moving. It was very slow progress, but one step at a time, he was moving over the snow-laden ground. The snow had seeped into his dress shoes. At first, his feet had grown cold. Then they had begun to hurt. Now they were numb.
He sure hoped they got to their destination soon. Freezing to death might make a big news story—but he wasn’t that desperate for headlines.
He glanced once more at Mae, but she’d pulled up her hood with the fluffy white fur trim, blocking the view of her beautiful face. “Is it much farther?”
“It’s just over that rise.” She turned her head, sending him a concerned look. “Do you need to rest?”
“No.” If he stopped now, he doubted he’d be able to move again. “I can make it.”
“Are you sure?” There was a distinct note of doubt in her voice.
“I’m sure.” His teeth started to chatter, so he clenched his jaw together.
Attempting to keep his thoughts on anything but the unending cold, he glanced at the woman next to him. He was torn between being angry at her for causing the accident by letting her dog loose and being grateful that she was some sort of angel sent to rescue him.
Then guilt settled in. How could he be upset with someone who was so concerned for him? She may have been irresponsible with the dog, but she’d cared enough to help him. He couldn’t forget that. Perhaps this was the twist in the story he’d come to Austria to tell. Perhaps he could attribute her actions to the holiday spirit. Maybe that was stretching things, but he liked the sound of it. He knew that angle would tug on the heartstrings of his viewers. But it wouldn’t be enough to garner the attention of the television executives—the same people who had passed him over for the evening news anchor role.
He stared straight ahead. There indeed was a slight hill. In his condition, it seemed more like Mont Blanc. But between the thick tree limb that Mae had located for him and her slim shoulders, he would make it.
Hopefully this cabin came equipped with a landline. He had to get out of here. This wasn’t a vacation for him. He was on assignment and his film crew was due to arrive tomorrow. He’d arrived early to scout out some special settings for his Christmas-around-the-world series. This accident would definitely put a crimp in his plans, but by tomorrow he’d be back on track. He refus
ed to let his ankle and various minor injuries hold him back—not when there was work to be done.
He didn’t know how much time had passed when the cabin at last came into sight. He paused for a moment, catching his breath. But only for a moment and then he was moving again—pushing through the pain. Between the snow and his injured leg, this walk was a bigger workout than he normally experienced at the gym.
His body was giving in to the cold and he stumbled. “We need to stop.”
She narrowed her gaze. “Are you quitting on me? Are you a quitter?”
“I’m not a quitter.” What was wrong with her? “Can’t you see that I’m injured?”
“I think you’re being a wimp.”
“Wimp?” He glared at her. Anger warmed his veins. He’d been wrong about her. This woman wasn’t an angel—not even close. She was rude and mean.
He’d show her.
He kept going.
One slow, agonizing step after the other.
CHAPTER FOUR
AT LAST.
Serena’s gaze zeroed in on the large log cabin. Any other time, she’d stop to admire how picturesque it looked with the snow-covered roof and the icicles hanging around the edges. But not this afternoon. With the thickening snow and the added weight from supporting Jackson, her back ached and her legs were exhausted. Still, her minor discomforts were nothing compared to Jackson’s injuries.
She felt bad for being so mean to him back there. But angering him enough for him to prove her wrong was the only way she knew how to keep him going—how to save his life.
If he’d stopped, she’d have never gotten him moving again. Pain and fatigue were deeply etched on his handsome face. And there was no way she was letting her favorite morning news show anchor become a human Popsicle.
Still, she had to temper her sympathy. If she let herself become too involved with this man, she’d end up paying a steep price. Her last romance had cost her dearly.
Her thoughts turned to Shawn McNolty—Hollywood’s rising star. He’d also costarred in Serena’s latest movie, which was set to release over the holidays. During the filming, their agents had contrived for them to be seen together to get the public buzzing about a potential romance. But as time went on, Shawn had convinced Serena that instead of putting on a show they could start a genuine romance. He had been so charming and attentive that she’d convinced herself that taking their romance from the big screen to real life could work.
And everything had been all right, or so she’d thought, until she overheard Shawn talking to one of his friends. They’d been out to dinner and she was just returning from the ladies’ room while they were standing in the waiting area. Shawn was telling his friend that his arrangement with Serena was working out much better than he’d planned. The longer he spent escorting Serena around town, the more promo he got. The more headlines he received, the more movie scripts came his way. And the best part was Serena didn’t even have a clue. He prided himself on being that good of an actor. The memory still stung.
He wasn’t the first man to date her in order to further his acting career, but she’d soon realized with those other men that the relationship was one-sided at best. But there was something about Shawn that had caught her off guard. Maybe it was his dark, mysterious eyes or his warm laugh that made her stomach quiver or the way he looked at her like she was the only woman in the world for him. Whatever it was, she’d convinced herself to let go of the past. She’d been sure Shawn was different—that he’d truly cared about her.
Maybe that was why she hadn’t suspected something was up when he continually demanded that they go out instead of chilling at her Beverly Hills mansion. He always insisted that they stop and pose for the paparazzi, saying that it was good publicity for their upcoming film. The list of suspicious activities went on—activities that at the time she’d refused to see, but later it had all made sense. The pieces had all fallen into place when she overheard his words at the restaurant. Shawn McNolty had used her for his personal gain.
But he wasn’t the only actor in this relationship. Not wanting a public confrontation, she swallowed her heated words and pretended that she hadn’t heard a word he’d said about her. Serena didn’t even remember what she’d ordered for dinner that last night or how she made it through the meal before she pleaded a headache and took a cab home. The rest of the evening was a blur.
Finding out that her romantic relationship was nothing but a sham was followed by a voice mail from her agent telling her that she’d been turned down for not one but two serious award-contending roles. At that point, she had nothing keeping her in California. She’d needed some downtime. A chance to unplug and regroup. That was the moment when her plan to go off the grid had been born.
With the aid of some temporary hair dye left over from Halloween, she’d switched her honey-blond hair to red. She’d been told by her housekeeper that she was practically unrecognizable without her distinctive eye makeup. Add a ball cap and nondescript jeans, and her disguise had been complete. She’d marched right out the door and jumped in a cab bound for the airport.
And now, even though she had the best of intentions, she knew taking this journalist into her home would end up decimating her serene escape from reality. Jackson may not be on the same level as the paparazzi who would climb the trees outside her Hollywood home, but as soon as he recovered, he’d want something from her—just like Shawn.
Unless she drove Jackson directly to the hospital. It would be what was best for all of them. And her rented all-terrain vehicle was sitting in the driveway. If she could make it to the road, the rest would be slow going, but she was confident she could make it, at least to the nearby village. It may not have a hospital, but there should at least be a doctor. Right?
When they reached the vehicle, she stopped. “Just give me a second.”
“What are you doing?”
“Looking for my keys.” She pulled off her glove and reached in her coat pocket. Her fingers wrapped around the keys. “Okay. Let’s get you seated.” She brushed some of the snow from around the door. When she pulled it open, the man sent her a puzzled look. “Come on. We have to get going before the snow gets worse.”
His gaze narrowed. “You know how to drive in this much snow?”
Not really. A few times, she’d driven when she was in Tahoe, but it hadn’t been in a snowstorm. Still, these weren’t normal circumstances.
“I... I’ve done it before.”
He looked at her, then the vehicle and finally at the rise up to the road. He shook his head. “No way. I’ll wait here until the authorities can get me.”
“But—”
“Arff! Arff!”
Gizmo started to wiggle in her arm. “Okay, boy.”
“I think he agrees with me. We should go inside.”
“We can’t.” When the man’s eyebrows rose, she added, “I mean, you need medical attention.”
“I’ll be fine. Unless we get in the vehicle and end up in another accident.”
She worried her lip. She was out of reasons not to take this journalist into her home. She quickly inventoried the cabin’s contents to make sure there wasn’t anything lying about that would give away her true identity. There were the contents of her wallet, but he wouldn’t see that unless she gave him reason to be suspicious of her—like standing here in the snow, making him wonder why she didn’t just take him straight inside.
Serena inwardly groaned.
Stubborn man.
“I know I’m a stranger,” he said. “But I promise you no harm.”
She wasn’t afraid of him. At least, not in the manner that he thought. But at this point, he was either an excellent actor or he hadn’t figured out her true identity. Perhaps the hair dye, Strawberry Temptation, and lack of makeup worked as well as her housekeeper had said.
&nbs
p; “Arff! Arff!”
She couldn’t fight them both. “Well, don’t just stand there. Let’s go inside.”
Serena again let Jackson lean on her shoulder. Trying to get him up the snowy, icy steps was quite a challenge. She wasn’t sure her shoulders would ever be the same again. But at last, they made it.
She helped him into the warm cabin and shut the door on the cold. She normally loved snow. But not this much, this fast. And not when it left her snowbound with a member of the press.
She helped him take off his gloves and wool dress coat. He was totally soaked. And ice-cold. His teeth chattered. The only way to warm him up was to strip him down. She started to loosen his tie.
His hand covered hers. “I... I think you’re pretty and all, but...but I don’t move this fast.”
He thought she was coming on to him? She lifted her chin to set him straight when beyond his bluish lips and chattering teeth, she noticed a glint of merriment in his eyes. He was teasing her. That had to be a good sign, right?
“I’m glad to see your sense of humor is still intact, but if you don’t get out of these wet clothes, you’re going to get severe hypothermia.” She attempted to move his hand, but he wouldn’t budge.
“I know how to undress myself.”
“Fine. Take everything off. I’ll get you some blankets.” Seeing him standing there leaning all of his weight on his good leg, she knew he was close to falling over from pain and exhaustion. “Let’s move you closer to the fire.”
She once again lent him her shoulder. Lucky for both of them, the couch was close by. Once he was seated and loosening his tie, she worked on getting a fire started.
A few minutes later, she returned to the great room with her arms piled high with blankets. Jackson sat on the couch in nothing but his blue boxers and socks. Heat immediately rushed to her cheeks. She was being silly. This was an emergency and it wasn’t like she was a virgin.
“Something wrong?” he asked.
She knew she was blushing and there was nothing she could do to stop it. She averted her gaze. “Here you go.”
Snowbound with an Heiress Page 3