Lonny had checked with the department of transportation and said it might be several days before she could leave. And she was determined to do just that—despite his assurances that she could stay and complete the work she’d come to do.
However, that seemed pointless. She’d saved the thumb drive, but she didn’t have the heart to finish the new story. She was supposed to write something sexy and flirty, but all she had the urge to create was a tragedy.
She knew she was feeling sorry for herself, and she should pull up her big-girl panties and get on with it. But she didn’t have any panties on.
“I have soup.”
She jumped at True’s quiet words. The man could creep up on a ghost. And was that all he had to say? Seriously?
Honey bit back a retort, recognizing that what she really wanted was to start a fight—with him. She held out her hand and waited while he turned the mug to present her the handle.
A small gesture, but one that fucked with her head. Why be gentle? Why pretend to care whether she burned her fingers? She’d burned down his entire cabin—his quaint little hunting cabin that his father had built years ago. Why wasn’t he furious?
She gulped down a sip of chicken soup and blinked.
“Couldn’t you tell it was hot?”
She blinked away pain-filled tears and aimed a blistering glare his way.
True’s jaw clenched. “I’ll leave you to finish.” He began to turn away.
She bent to set the cup on the floor. “Why are you avoiding me?” If she could have bit her own tongue and swallowed it whole, she would have.
True hesitated. “You’ve been through enough.”
“Don’t give me that crock of—” She glanced away. She wasn’t going to cuss at the man. Wasn’t going to make herself look any more pathetic than she already was.
“I’m guessing now’s not a good time to check on our girl.”
Both Honey and True turned to glare at Lonny whose mouth moved like he was biting his lip. Was he laughing at them?
“Don’t disappear,” True said. “I can’t seem to get anything right.”
“No kidding,” Honey muttered.
Lonny walked deeper into the room, glancing from Honey to True. “I take it you’re feeling more yourself, Honey?”
“I’ve never been less myself,” she snarled.
“I don’t know about that,” he said amiably. “The color’s back in your cheeks.”
Honey hit her thigh with her fist. “I don’t shout at men. I don’t ever want to shout at men. But he—” She glared at True. “He manages to push every last one of my buttons.”
“And that’s a bad thing?” Lonny asked softly. He took a seat beside her. “Quit hovering, True. Take a seat.”
True looked reluctant but took up the space on her left side. Wedged between the two brothers, Honey blew out a deep breath. The temperature in the room had skyrocketed. She flipped back her blanket.
True reached for the edge and shoved it over her shoulder.
“I’m warm enough,” she muttered.
“You’ll get sick.”
“And that would be a huge inconvenience on top of the hundred other inconveniences I’ve caused, wouldn’t it?”
True nodded, but her searing glance had him buttoning his lip and glancing away. “I should head out to check on the horses in the barn.”
“They’ll wait,” Lonny said flatly.
Honey flung up her hands. “I can assure both of you that I’m fine. No need for you to worry. If you’ll just show me where I can sleep…”
Lonny laid a hand on her knee and leaned toward her. “That’s part of what we’re going to talk about, sweetheart.”
She narrowed her eyes to give him a mean glare even though inside her heart was thumping loudly in her chest. “Oh, yeah?”
“True mentioned what you’re writing.”
True muttered a curse under his breath.
Honey’s cheeks burned. “Anyone ever tell you that you two are big fat gossips?”
“Not ever. Don’t change the subject. A ménage, right?”
“I changed my mind,” she said, folding her arms over her chest. “I’ve decided to scrap the book. Now I’m going to write a post-apocalyptic story—lots of blood and guts. I’m feeling pretty violent at the moment.”
“I think you need to do the right research.”
“Oh, really?” She wouldn’t admit it even on her dying bed, but just the thought of doing a little research made her heart flutter madly.
“You can count me out,” True said forcefully.
“Not to your taste, I know,” Lonny said, so cheerfully he made Honey want to scream. “You mentioned that before.”
Honey kept her gaze on Lonny because she was way too chicken to look at True. “You two talked about doing a ménage with me? Is anything sacred?”
“Don’t get your panties in a twist.”
“You know damn well I’m not wearing any.”
“Dammit.”
That did it. Honey swung toward True. “Do you know any other cuss words?”
“His vocabulary’s limited,” Lonny quipped.
She lifted her chin when True’s gaze narrowed. “So I noticed,” she said, keeping her tone even.
“Be nice,” Lonny chided.
She grunted and faced forward again. “Sorry.”
“Back to the ménage…”
True stirred beside her, and she felt his thighs tense like he was going to rise. Without looking at him, Honey laid her hand on his thigh and pressed down.
“There ought to be a few rules,” Lonny continued. “Things each one of us won’t do.”
“Like swords never crossing,” she quipped.
“For fuck sake,” True ground out. “Did either of you hear what I said? Not interested.”
“If I believed that for a minute, I’d lay off.” All humor was gone from Lonny’s voice.
Honey held her breath, waiting…
True stayed tense beneath her hand. His breaths deepened.
“Personally, I’d just as soon not ‘cross swords’ as Honey suggested,” Lonny said slowly.
Honey drew in a deep breath. “I’d just as soon not be tied down.”
Both men pinned her with a glance.
She shrugged. “I like to touch.”
True jerked but didn’t try to rise.
Guilty pleasures can heat the coldest winter night…
Winter Fire
© 2010 Jess Dee
A Red Hot Winter Story
There’s never been any question in Rachel Ashberg’s mind. Jackson Brooks is the one, and they both know it. The problem? Thanks to his unbreakable rule—never date his twin sister’s friends—he’s completely off-limits. Even if they can’t imagine being with anyone else.
It’s been over two years since their last encounter, when they gave in—just once—to their passion. Now, as the Brooks twins’ milestone birthday approaches, Rachel and Jackson are about to meet again at a gorgeously mountain resort. Needing something to take the edge off the desire that has never faded, she indulges in a fling with sexy stranger Garreth Halt. He even makes her forget Jackson for a while. Or…maybe not.
When she mentions Jackson’s name in passing, Garreth picks up on all the hidden undertones in her voice. And he brings Jackson into their bed, if only in a fantasy they play out together. Funny thing about Garreth’s fantasies, though. Even the most improbable, impossible ones have a way of becoming reality…
Warning: Warning: Enough heat is contained within these pages that you won’t even notice the winter cold. You might fall in love with Jackson—the real-life hero, determined to protect his sister from further pain—but it’s the handsome stranger, Garreth, who’ll take your breath away.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Winter Fire:
“It’s good to escape from the city for a while though. Isn’t it beautiful here?”
He grinned at her. “Let’s just say the mountains became a whol
e lot more interesting in the last few minutes…”
She laughed out loud. “You really are flirting, aren’t you?” And was she ever responding. A tingling awareness flowed through her, an open recognition of the energy that crackled between them.
“Is it working?” he drawled earnestly.
She pretended to think about her answer. No need for him to know just yet that her belly was already quivering in anticipation. “I’m not sure. Maybe you should try a little harder.”
“You know, we could skip the flirting part altogether and head straight into heated kisses beside a roaring fire.”
Damned if her heart didn’t miss a beat. “We could.” But she couldn’t be that easy. Could she? She and Paul had only split up six weeks ago. “Or I could read my book and pretend you’re not really here.”
“You could.” He nodded. “But heated kisses beside a roaring fire would be a lot more entertaining for both of us.”
Entertaining? Hell, forget the fireplace, the two of them would probably ignite flames of their own together. “For all the other hotel guests too. I bet they’d get a kick out of watching.”
Humor sparkled in his eyes, and something else. Desire? Hunger? Or maybe raw lust?
Nah, the raw lust was radiating from her, not him.
He lowered his voice. “If it’s privacy you’re wanting, there’s a fireplace in my chalet.”
Heated kisses beside a roaring fire in the privacy of his hotel room? With a Canadian she’d never see again? A man she could spend her passion with and move on. Damn, there was very little that appealed more.
Okay, so maybe there was something that appealed more. Jackson.
Yeah, didn’t matter how much Jackson appealed, nothing else could ever happen between them. Not without causing Jackson’s sister untold heartache.
“If I’d wanted privacy, I’d never have invited you to sit here,” she pointed out logically.
“Tell me you’re not regretting the invitation?”
She nibbled on her lower lip. “Well, you do talk a lot…”
He shot her a purely wicked look. “Not when I’m in the middle of a heated kiss.”
“You talk a lot about kissing.” She didn’t mind one bit.
He nodded. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot. Since I first spied you in the lobby earlier.”
“You saw me earlier?” How could she not have noticed him?
“While I was checking in. You were on your way out. Dressed for a blizzard I might add.”
He’d noticed her attire? “I went for a walk. It was so cold there may as well have been a blizzard brewing.”
He shook his head. “You Australians have no idea about cold and blizzards.”
She let her gaze slide away from his face and down to his chest and shoulders. “We have no idea? Mate, you’re wearing a T-shirt.” A T-shirt he filled out beautifully. It hugged his broad shoulders and ended halfway down his upper arms, showcasing muscled biceps and golden flesh. “It’s three degrees Celsius out there, the mercury’s plummeting, and you’re wearing a T-shirt.”
“We’re indoors. There’s a fire. It’s warm.”
Was he nuts? “It’s warm here and now. But the sun’s going down. Soon as it sets, the temperature will drop below freezing.”
“Not a prob. I have a sweater for when I go out.”
“A sweater?” One sweater? She had two jackets, an assortment of jumpers, three sweaters and a cardigan—and those were just for a three-day trip.
“It’s enough.”
“You’re crazy.” Gorgeous, ridiculously sexy and crazy.
“You’re cold?”
“I’m always cold in winter.” God, she missed the sun-drenched days of summer.
“You know, in Canada we have a brilliant system for keeping warm.”
“Ducted heating. I know.”
“Actually, I was talking about sex.”
His answer was so unexpected she laughed out loud. “Sex, huh?” Dear Lord, she wanted to keep warm with Garreth, Canadian style. For sure it would take her mind off Jackson’s imminent arrival—and their checkered past. “Nope, sorry. We don’t have sex in Australia.”
He looked aghast. “Not even in the Blue Mountains?”
“Especially not in the Blue Mountains.”
He nodded gravely. “Ah. That’s a damn pity.”
“Don’t let it worry you. You’re going back to Toronto in a couple of weeks. I’m sure you’ll have plenty of sex then—even if it is summer and there won’t be any need to keep warm.”
“Maybe, but I was hoping to have sex with you, here in the Blue Mountains.”
Again she laughed, enjoying his witty repartee. Enjoying it almost as much as she enjoyed the tantalizing sparks that flickered between them. “Would you settle for a drink by the fireplace?”
He considered her question. “Depends which fireplace.”
“This one, right here.”
“How about the one in my room?”
She shook her head. “Nah. Too risky. I might have to fend off your heated kisses.” Yeah, right. If anything, he’d be the one fending her off. The longer they chatted, the more appetizing his lips became.
He grinned devilishly. “No might about it. Another red wine?” He motioned to her empty glass before signaling to a waiter.
She nodded and he ordered wine for her and a scotch for himself. “So, Rachel,” he said as soon as the waiter had left, “what is it you do when you’re not seducing men into kissing you beside roaring fires?”
For a couple of seconds she hesitated to tell him. If he knew about her job, she’d lose some of her anonymity. And if she were to entertain ideas about kissing Garreth beside the fire, she knew she’d have to maintain that sense of them being strangers. A fling appealed no end. A brief affair with a stranger to take the edge off before Jackson arrived. A little something to distract her from her obsessions about the man she could never have.
A one-night stand.
Garreth was the perfect stranger. Gorgeous, charming and sexy to boot. He’d be a perfect distraction. Exactly what she needed.
But then she forged ahead. She’d never see Garreth again after tonight. He lived on another continent. What could it hurt to tell him a few things about herself?
Triple Dare: A Red Hot Winter Story Page 9