“I’ll grab you a towel to dry off with,” she said, her teeth chattering. Outside wasn’t the only place it was cold.
“That’ll have to wait. I have to get this window sealed first or we’re both gonna end up a couple of human popsicles. Hand me one of those leather pillows by the fireplace.” Reaching down, he yanked the plug of an old brass floor lamp from the wall outlet and carried it with him across the room.
She grabbed up the pillow and followed him, admiring the way he had taken control with undaunted confidence.
“Watch your step,” he warned as pieces of the broken glass she’d missed crunched under his boots. Kicking the sawed off piece of branch aside, he stepped up to the window. Then he pulled on his gloves. Cold wind whipped his dark hair over his thick brows as he plucked the remaining shards from the snow-encrusted pane.
“Need any help?” she asked, her teeth chattering even more.
“No, I’ve just about got it.” He reached back for the pillow she was holding. “Go stand by the fire and get warm.”
“I’m not that cold,” she said, wanting to help him.
His gaze dropped to her breasts. “Tell that to your bra.” That said, he turned back to the window and stuffed the large leather pillow through the opening, wedging it there with the floor lamp.
She looked down, immediately folding her arms across her breasts while heat danced up her cold cheeks. “A gentleman wouldn’t have mentioned that,” she said indignantly.
Grinning, he grabbed a throw rug from the floor and began nailing it over the damaged window, blocking out any cold that was still seeping in. When he was done, he stepped back to survey his work. “That should do the trick.”
“Nice work,” she muttered.
“Thanks.” He removed his coat and crossed the room to the bathroom. Pausing, in the doorway, he said, “Oh, and Caitlin…”
She met his gaze.
“I never said anything about being a gentleman. Feel free to be cold around me anytime.”
The second the door closed behind him, she let out a stream of curse words she hadn’t used since her rebellious teen years.
The bathroom door swung open, Dalton’s dark head popping out from behind it. Grinning, he clicked his tongue. “Such language from a lady.”
Before she could respond, he slipped back inside, his deep, husky laughter drifting out through the closed door.
A tired smile curved her lips as she sank down onto the sofa bed. Even with everything that had gone wrong for her that night, her chance encounter with Dalton Barnes had turned out to be the most fun she had ever had.
Dalton came out of the bathroom to find Caitlin sound asleep on the sofa bed. Stepping lightly, he made his way back to the bed where he stood staring down at her. She was curled up on the bed beneath a dark blue and cream striped throw. Lips slightly parted, her hair with those shimmering copper strands gleaming in the firelight as it lay across her cheeks. She looked so…keepable.
Before that thought had a chance to settle in his mind, the slender form on the bed shuddered. Caitlin was chilled. And it was no wonder. Despite the fire, the room was still freezing. Frowning, he walked over to stoke the fire then went in search of something more substantial than an afghan.
After a thorough search, all he came up with was one thin cotton blanket which he draped over Caitlin’s slender form before easing onto the sofa bed beside her.
The room slowly warmed, but Caitlin was still shivering beside him, even with the blanket. Rolling onto his side, he moved up against her, wrapping his arms around her.
She stirred, mumbling sleepily as her head settled into the crook of his arm.
“Shh…” he soothed with a whisper, his lips brushing over her silken hair. “It’s all right.”
“W…we can’t…” she mumbled, forcing her eyes open to look up at him.
“Darlin’,” he said with a low chuckle, “the only thing I intend to do right now is get some sleep and keep you warm. Nothing more.” The tension in her body remained. Scooping up the discarded handcuffs, he dangled them over her. “If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll wear these.”
A sleepy smile moved across her face. “No need. I trust you.” That said, she closed her eyes and drifted off once more.
She trusted him.
Knowing that stirred something deep inside him. Those words played over and over in his mind until exhaustion wore him down and sleep finally claimed him.
CHAPTER FOUR
“Morning.”
Caitlin blinked the sleep away and looked up to find Dalton smiling down at her. Her cheek rested against the front of his partially unbuttoned shirt as she snuggled into him, his strong arm curled firmly around her.
“Dalton!” she gasped, pushing away.
A chuckle rumbled in his chest. “Can’t say I’ve ever had that sorta reaction from a woman waking up next to me.”
She fought the urge to frown. It shouldn’t surprise her that a man like Dalton Barnes would have had lots of women in his life. And it shouldn’t bother her either, but it did. Tossing the blanket aside, she scooted off the bed.
“Was it something I said?”
“I’d rather not hear about your rodeo flings,” she shot back over her shoulder as she crossed the room to inspect the storm ravaged window in the morning light.
“Jealous?”
She glanced back over her shoulder at him. “How long does tequila stay in the bloodstream?”
“I take that as a no.” He swung his long legs off the mattress and stood, looking so undeniably sexy in his sleep-rumpled hair and whisker-stubbled jaw.
She tore her gaze away. Maybe if she didn’t look at him, she’d stop thinking about waking up in his arms, even if they were fully dressed. Or about the kiss they’d shared the night before. One that had carried over into her dreams.
The floor creaked as he moved toward her. “For your information I wasn’t drunk last night.”
He was so close she could feel the warmth of his breath on the sensitive flesh at back of her neck. She squeezed her eyes shut. Part Ogre, part ogre, she chanted over and over in her mind. But it wasn’t lessening her attraction to her very hunky cabin mate.
“Cold?”
She looked back at him. “What?”
“You look like you’re cold. I can add more wood to the fire if you are.”
Her gaze dropped down to her arms which were folded tightly in front of her breasts. Not because she was cold, but because she was trying to cover up the fact that she was aroused. By him. Something he was bound to notice if she let her arms fall away. Then again, maybe claiming to be cold would be better than Dalton finding out the truth.
“Maybe a little.” She stepped past him, away from the drafty window. “But we’d best use the firewood sparingly. I didn’t plan on being here this long.”
“That makes two of us. And, from the look of things outside, the storm’s decided to settle in for a spell.”
Why did she suddenly have the urge to smile? “You mean we might be stranded here another night?”
“Looks like a possibility,” he replied. “If the storm lets up some today, I’ll hike back to town and get help.”
She spun around. “You can’t leave me here!”
He arched a dark brow, a smirk sliding across his face. “Afraid I might not come back for you?”
Yes! She certainly wouldn’t blame him for leaving her there to freeze to death after all she’d put him through. “No. I just think it’s safer to wait the storm out. You could get halfway to town and the weather could get bad again and then you’d be stuck out in it with no shelter.”
“One more day,” he conceded. “And then we’ll have to rethink things. We aren’t gonna survive too long on Bubble Yum and peppermint candy.”
“I could.” She grabbed her brush from the table and ran it through her hair.
He laughed and shook his head. “Not me. I need my steak and chicken.”
She scooped the blanke
t up from the bed and hung it along with the afghan over the back of the sofa. Then she walked around to the front of the sofa bed and bent to close it.
“I’ll get that,” Dalton said, nudging her gently out of the way. “You grab the cushions.”
They put the sofa back together and then he added more wood to the fire. “Know any good camp songs?”
“I do,” she said as he settled onto the sofa beside her. “But you don’t wanna hear me sing.”
“Why not?”
“Think cat with its tail caught in a screen door.”
He let out a husky chuckle. “That bad, huh?”
“Worse.” She reached for a couple of peppermints and held one out to him. “Breakfast?”
“Thanks.” He unwrapped the candy and popped it into his mouth. “Mmm…delicious,” he said with an exaggerated groan.
“Wait until you see what I serve you for lunch,” she said, laughing softly.
Dalton couldn’t keep the smile from his face. Caitlin might sing like a screeching cat, but her laughter was refreshing. Just like the candy in his mouth. Candy that tasted like Caitlin’s kiss – all pepperminty and sweet.
He sat back with a contented sigh. “Do you ever hear from your parents?”
She rested her head on the back of the sofa, looking up at the pine-planked ceiling. “No. They didn’t even come home for my grandmother’s funeral.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” she said with a brave smile, but he sensed the pain behind it. “I didn’t expect them to. My grandmother had alienated them both years before with her hatred of my mother.
“But what about you? Who was there to take care of you after your grandmother died?”
“Myself. Just as I always had. Besides, I was in college at the time.”
He shouldn’t be angry, but he was. He shouldn’t care, but he did. Dalton nodded, deciding it best not to speak. The words he was biting back in regards to the way her family had treated her weren’t nice and she’d had enough of the ‘not so nice’ in her life. To think he’d grown up believing his life sucked, but he’d had it good compared to what she’d gone through.
“Dalton? You okay?” she asked, breaking the silence.
He hadn’t meant to upset her with his question. And though she pretended not to be affected by it, he could see right through her. It was time to distract her from the bad memories his question had undoubtedly stirred up.
“I’m fine. Hey, how about a game of cards?” He nodded toward the deck of cards lying on the table behind her.
“I’m game. Gin Rummy?”
“I was thinking more along the line of strip poker…” He ducked as the remaining sofa pillow sailed past his head. “Dare I hope that was a yes?”
“In your dreams, cowboy,” she replied, her smile returning full force.
She had no idea how right she was. He’d dreamed about kissing her again, about sliding his fingers through those silky auburn strands before slowly undressing her…
The growing pressure beneath the fly of his jeans had him reining in his thoughts. He’d teased Caitlin about playing strip poker to make her smile again, not to get her into bed. Not that he’d object if she offered. He’d never been so attracted to a woman before. Maybe she was right. Maybe he was suffering from that Stockwhoever syndrome.
*
“Don’t worry about the window. It’s all coming down anyway.”
Dalton’s eyes flew open at the sound of his brother’s voice outside and the crunching of snow. Sunlight too bright for morning streamed in through the frosted windowpanes, making him squint.
He attempted to sit up only to find himself pinned down by the slender arm flung over his bare chest and a jean covered leg twined about his own. Caitlin was sound asleep and it was no wonder. They had stayed up late into the night again, this time playing cards and talking.
His gaze settled on her face, which was nestled snugly against his shoulder. Delicately curved cheekbones. Full, rose-colored lips. She had no need for artificial makeup. She was a natural beauty.
“Caitlin,” he whispered against her ear, nudging her gently. “Wake up.” He didn’t want to startle her awake, but he didn’t exactly want to be caught lying in bed with her either.
Too late.
The cabin door swung open, sending a blast of cold air across the room. His brother, Alan Martinson and a man he didn’t recognize stepped into the cabin.
“Dalton?”
“Morning,” he replied with a smile, attempting once again to appear relaxed when he wasn’t.
Caitlin let out a soft, sleepy groan. Her eyes fluttered open then rounded as she looked down at his bare chest. Coming instantly awake, she struggled to free her entangled legs.
He let out a grunt of pain as her knee connected with his poorly timed morning erection. Being relaxed was the last thing on his mind now. He dropped his head back onto the mattress with a low groan, unable to speak.
“You’re naked!” she exclaimed, sitting up.
“Hardly,” he forced out through clenched teeth.
“Then why aren’t you wearing…” her words trailed off as her head pivoted toward the door, suddenly aware of their unexpected visitors.
“Clothes?” Brandon finished for her as he glowered at them from the open cabin door.
“Everyone calm down,” Dalton said. Ignoring the throbbing pain between his legs, he eased back up into a sitting position. “I can explain.”
His brother’s expression darkened as he did a quick sweep over Caitlin. “Explain what? Why you left my new truck in the middle of town in a snowstorm and then disappeared for two days?”
“Look─”
“Forget it,” his brother replied, cutting him off with a deepening scowl. “No need to explain anything. You were just being your usual irresponsible self.”
“That’s not true!” Caitlin said, coming to his defense.
“Leave it go,” Dalton muttered through teeth still tightly clenched. He could defend himself, but in this instance it was better off if he didn’t.
But she wasn’t hearing it. She was clearly determined to set things straight. “He didn’t leave it. I…”
Her words were swallowed up by Dalton’s mouth as he pulled her up against him for a kiss. The last thing he wanted Brandon to find out was that this slip of a female had taken him to the cabin by force…by curling iron. Besides the humiliation he would suffer if the truth were found out, she would ruin any chance at all of convincing his brother not to shut down the retreat.
She tore her mouth from his with a gasp, her green eyes flashing with outrage as she struggled to push him away. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“That’s what I’d like to know,” his brother said as he stood, arms crossed, glaring down at him.
“Giving her a good morning kiss,” he replied as he swung his legs over the edge of the mattress and stood. “Which I would have preferred to do without a roomful of spectators.”
Brandon turned to the men standing behind him. “Would you two mind waiting for me in the truck? I’d like to have a word with Dalton in private.”
“Certainly,” the man Dalton didn’t know replied with a departing nod.
Alan Martinson paused at the door to glare at Dalton, then turned to Brandon. “I trust you’ll handle this matter.”
“You can count on it,” his brother replied, clearly pissed.
“I’ll be in the truck.”
“Ass,” Dalton muttered the second the door closed behind Martinson.
“How long have you been bringing women to Stoney Brook for these twisted sex outings?”
“Twisted what?” Caitlin shrieked before he had a chance to correct his brother’s assumption.
Oh, hell. Just when he thought matters couldn’t get any worse. “Watch yourself, Brandon. You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
His brother shot him an angry scowl. “Unless she’s a cop, you’re wasting your breath denyin
g what went on here last night.” He pointed to the table by the sofa. “Those are handcuffs, aren’t they?”
Damn. “Yeah, they’re mine,” he lied with a nod.
Caitlin gasped. “What?”
“We ran into each other in town the other night and, well, I’m sure I don’t need to say anymore.”
The frame under the mattress creaked as Caitlin scrambled off it. “Don’t listen to him. The handcuffs are mine, and we didn’t have sex.”
“We might as well fess up, darlin’,” he said, pulling her up against him and slipping an arm around her shoulders. “You’ll have to forgive her. She’s a little shy.”
His brother raked a gloved hand back through his dark hair and heaved a sigh. “Damn it, Dalton, you’re thirty-two-years-old. When are you gonna grow up and start acting responsibly? My truck was almost plowed over the other night. It took me two days to finally clear the roads enough to get my developer out here. And then we find my brother shacked up with-”
“Brother?” Caitlin cut in with a gasp. “Your truck,” she said, replaying his earlier words. “You’re Brandon Barnes?”
“Last time I checked.”
Dalton muttered a curse, Caitlin’s suddenly rigid posture clueing him in on her fury. “Not now, Caitlin,” he said, hoping she would heed his warning.
“Not now?” she snapped indignantly. “Then when? When your brother here finally learns how to operate his answering machine?”
“What the hell does any of this have to do with my answering machine?”
Dalton ran his hand up and down her arm in a calming manner. “Caitlin is camp director here at Stoney Brook.”
His brother looked her over. “She’s been running this place? Hell, she’s not much older than the kids that come here.”
“For your information, I’m twenty-eight,” she snapped back. “And you would know who I was if you weren’t so busy avoiding me. Too afraid to deal with me face to face?”
Brandon looked at her like she was crazy. “I’ve been avoiding you?”
Dalton gave a confirming nod. “She’s been trying to get in touch with you since she received your letter about your decision to shut down the retreat.”
“Is that what she’s been telling you?” He snorted. “She’s been lying to you, Dalton. I never got any messages from her.”
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