by Larissa Ione
“I’m sorry,” she said, “but it’s almost midnight and I’m beat, and these drinks have gone to my head. I think I’ll call it a night.”
“I’ll pay our tabs and walk you to your room.”
“Nice try, but no thanks.”
“The tabs or the room?”
“Both. I can walk by myself, and I can pay for my own drinks.”
“I know you’re capable of walking by yourself, but I want to see where your room is so I can show up unexpectedly.” He scooted out of the booth and dug in his back pocket for his wallet. “And I’m going to pay for the drinks because I want to be responsible for your screaming orgasms.”
She laughed, a sweet sound gave him a rush of pleasure. “Everyone knows today’s women are responsible for their own screaming orgasms.”
Now there was an erotic image that would have him sweating in frustration tonight. “You also saved me from Gigi,” he pointed out.
“I saved you from Gigi as payment for the martini earlier.”
He winked. “Guess you’ll just have to owe me again, huh?”
She stood, shaking her head, but she smiled as she spoke. “You’re a pain in the butt, you know that?”
“It’s one of my many talents.”
“I’m afraid to ask about the others.”
He bent close, so close he could feel stray wisps of her hair brush his cheek. “I could show you.” Yeah, the things he would show her…
She gave him an exasperated huff, and he laughed as he grabbed her hand and led her down the spiral staircase to the crowded main floor, where he paid the tab. As he waited at the bar for his change, he spotted his new network boss at a nearby table. He nodded in greeting, and then he and Robyn slipped out of the Moose and into a horde of people fresh in from night skiing, their jackets and hats dusted with snow. He placed a protective hand over the small of her back and guided her through mob, and it felt so good to touch her that he left his hand there as they climbed the stairs to the second floor. Her room was only a couple of doors down, to his acute disappointment.
“Well, this is it.” She pulled a key from her jeans’ pocket.
He waited while she opened the door and flicked on the light. After tossing her key onto the TV stand, she leaned against the doorframe and watched him, head tilted to one side, hair tucked behind one ear.
“Look.” She sounded so tired that he wanted to wrap her up in his arms and tuck her into bed. Preferably a bed with him in it. “I’m sorry if I’ve been grumpy. I’ve had a really bad day. I’d love to have dinner with you tomorrow, and I’m more grateful than you can imagine that you’re willing to go to my reunion with me.”
“There’s nothing to be grateful for. I’m doing it for purely selfish reasons.”
“And what would those be?”
“Well,” he said, bracing one hand on the wall next to her head and leaning in, “if we’re going to play boyfriend-girlfriend, we need to practice.” He dipped his head, letting his lips brush the tip of her delicate ear, and her light vanilla-berry fragrance nearly made him dizzy with wanting. “We have to be convincing.”
She turned, her lips mere centimeters away from his, her brow furrowed. “Sean—”
He covered her mouth with his, smothering whatever she’d been about to say. She went still. Heart racing, he seized the advantage, flicking his tongue over her smooth lips until a tremor rippled through her and she opened up to him in a soft, warm meeting that tasted of rich coffee liquor and sweet Irish cream.
Oh, man, she could kiss. He cupped her cheek with his free hand, and she melted against him, her hands sliding up his chest in a way that made his body clench and his skin burn.
The sound of laughter at the other end of the hall brought him to his senses, and he drew back, shifted his body to shield her from the newcomers’ view. She blinked up at him with passion-glazed eyes. A surge of male pride shot through him because, oh, yeah, he hadn’t lost his touch.
His gaze cut to the open doorway. Mere footsteps away, the mattress beckoned. It may have been forever since he’d shared a bed with a woman, but he wasn’t so rusty that he didn’t remember how to get a woman into one. Slanting his mouth over her lips, he took Robyn’s mouth again in a hungry kiss that she encouraged with an arm hooked around his neck.
A shock of desire zinged through him, making every point of skin-to-skin contact with her spark. He brushed his hand along her cheek and into her hair, finally, finally, threading his fingers through the glossy strands. A low moan from deep in her throat urged him on, and he pinned her against the wall with his body, shuddering when her firm breasts pressed into his chest.
Her hands dropped, and he prepared for her to shove him away, but instead she reached under his sweater and skated her palms over his abdomen, his pecs, his back…nearly everything she could reach. And then, oh, sweet hell, her stomach muscles contracted against his hard arousal, and his already simmering senses ignited.
It had been so long since he’d been with a woman like this. He knew he should back off, take it slow, but he was like a starving man who’d found food just in time. Taking too much would be a mistake, but his self-control was gone.
He couldn’t get enough of her wet, wild taste, her exotic scent, her ample curves that filled his hand perfectly. He rubbed his thumb over the faint outline of her nipple as it strained against her sweater, but he wanted more, wanted to lave her breast with his tongue as he thrust inside her.
Shifting even closer, he wedged his thigh between hers. She arched against him and whimpered, the most welcome sound he’d ever heard. If he could just ease her through the door, kiss her as he guided her toward the bed…
The bed. A sudden wave of anxiety doused his heated thoughts. What if she found him as repulsive as Jenny had? He wasn’t prepared to deal with that yet. Not tonight. Not after a long day and a nerve-wracking meeting with his new boss.
With a gulp of much-needed oxygen, he drew away again, this time breaking contact completely with a step back.
“Robyn,” he said thickly, hoping she’d buy his excuse for backing off, “we’d better stop before Karen shows up and gets an eyeful.”
She let out a long, shaky breath before calmly tucking her hair behind her ear again. “What makes you think I would have let you do anything that would give her an eyeful?”
He reached out to trace his finger along the line of her jaw, and frustration shot through him at the feel of her silky skin. “My irresistible charm?” She crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her foot on the floor sternly, but the corners of her lips were turned up in amusement. “Can’t blame a guy for hoping.”
“Well, ski-boy, you can hope all you want. I’m going to bed.” She slipped inside the room like a slinky cat. “Alone.” With a smirk, she shut the door.
He stood there for a moment, wondering how far he’d have gotten if he’d made some tried-and-true moves on her, but ultimately it didn’t matter because he wasn’t sure if an attack of nerves would keep him from being able to follow through.
How was he supposed to seduce her when he was afraid he’d choke at the last minute?
Cursing, he headed downstairs, where the night-skiers had dispersed. As he cleared the last step, someone called his name. He turned to see his new network boss standing near the lobby fireplace. Sean extended his hand.
“Mr. Slade. Hello again.”
“Please, call me Damon.”
“Sure, Damon.” Sean dropped the other man’s hand and resisted the urge to wipe his palm on his jeans. “Enjoying your stay?”
Damon nodded. “As a matter of fact, I am. Would you care to join me for a drink?”
“Thanks, but no. I need to get home—”
Damon grasped Sean’s elbow. “I’d like to speak with you for a moment. I’m sure you don’t mind.”
Sean did mind, but this was his boss, the man who could make him or break him, and he agreed. He tried not to think about the fact that two years ago, no one made him do any
thing he didn’t want to do.
They walked toward the Moose, and as they entered the bar, a flurry of activity brought Sean to a stop. Two patrollers jogged across the lobby toward the lodge’s front doors. One, a six-year veteran named Mitch, halted in front of him.
“A guy just fell from a lift. Wiped out three skiers on the ground. One is in cardiac arrest, and another has a pole impalement. We could use you.”
“You got it.” All patrollers had first responder training, but only a handful were certified EMTs like Sean, so his help could be useful. “What’s the ETA of the victims?”
Mitch checked his beeper. “Two minutes.”
“I’ll be right there.”
Mitch took off, and Sean turned to Damon. “I gotta dash.”
Damon clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Give me one minute. You have two.”
Damn. The guy was slick. “What is it?”
“It’s about Robyn.”
Sean frowned. Surely Damon hadn’t said what Sean thought he’d heard. “Who?”
“The woman you were just with. You forgot her name already?”
Hackles and temper rising, Sean struggled to keep his voice even. “I’m surprised you know her.”
“I know her,” Damon said in a tone that made clear exactly how well he knew her, and Sean bristled even more, which was strange, since he’d never been the jealous type. “And I need a favor. If you can keep her out of my way for the next couple of weeks, I’d be grateful.”
Favor? Not even close. The man had issued an order. “You lost me. Why would I need to keep her away from you?”
“Robyn and I have a…history.” Damon leaned a little closer and said conspiratorially, “We were supposed to be here together, and now I’m here with another woman. She could make life miserable for me and my date. A woman scorned and all that. You know how it is.”
Yeah, Sean knew exactly how it was. He’d been in similar situations before, but that was a long time ago, and even then he hadn’t been proud of his behavior. Damon seemed to be gloating—at Robyn’s expense, something that made Sean’s blood boil.
“I don’t know if she told you,” Damon continued, “but she lost her job, and I’m sort of responsible. I feel bad. So I’ll tell you what. I’ll make sure she has a position with Mogul Media, and I’ll do my best to see that you get a permanent announcer job if you’ll humor me and keep her busy until I have time to make it up to her.”
Sean had a feeling there was more to Damon’s generosity than he was letting on. If Damon felt bad for what had happened to Robyn, Sean would eat his ski goggles. Still, there was something desperate about the man, something that almost made Sean feel sorry for him. He reminded Sean of competitive skiers who had been at the top of their games, who had been good guys, great sportsmen, but who were past their primes and were struggling to make a comeback.
And who were bitter because it wasn’t happening.
“Yo! Trenton!”
Mitch’s shout and beckoning wave from the front doors lit a fire under him, and he turned back to Damon. “I have to go.”
He stepped away, but once more Damon grabbed his arm. “Well?”
Sean gave a sharp jerk of the head. “I’ll keep Robyn busy if it’ll mean she gets to keep her job. Good enough?”
Damon’s greasy grin creeped Sean out. “Great. I look forward to working with you. Oh, and let’s keep this between us.”
Sean nodded and trotted off, unease curling in his gut as he wondered what he’d just gotten himself into.
Chapter Four
Warmth enveloped Robyn’s body as Sean’s hands roved over the prickling flesh of her arms, her back, her legs. Her breasts crushed against his bare chest, the crisp hair tickling her nipples. She shifted her weight so his thick thigh pressed between hers, making her moan, wanting more.
God, she wanted him, especially when he whispered her name into her hair and told her how sexy she was. How hot. Then his minty breath tickled her cheek as his lips kissed a hot path from her ear to her mouth.
“Mmm, Sean.” Stretching, she reached over his shoulder to caress the sculpted muscles of his back, but a shock of cold air on her arms froze her movement and jolted her into unwelcome consciousness.
Confusion fogged her brain. A dream. She’d been dreaming. Sean’s hands weren’t on her body. Her naked chest wasn’t rubbing against his. His lips weren’t kissing hers…but why then did she smell mint?
Her eyelids flew open, and through the fuzzy haze that no amount of blinking would banish, she saw Sean’s golden brown eyes only inches from hers.
“You sleep like a rock.”
“Omigod!” she croaked, sitting up as he straightened but remained standing beside her bed. “What are you—? How did you—?” Had she moaned his name out loud? Embarrassment stung her cheeks.
Slinging a cocky grin at her, he dangled a key between his fingers. “Karen thought you needed a wake-up call.”
What Karen needed was a whack with a ski pole. Robyn should never have told her about the kiss she and Sean had shared last night. Still flustered, she tugged the blanket up around her neck, even though her flannel pajamas more than covered everything. “Wake-up calls are usually, uh, calls.”
He gestured to the table near the window, where a tray laden with fruit, yogurt, waffles and bacon sat next to a carafe of what she hoped was coffee. “The food wouldn’t fit through the phone lines.”
“I can’t believe you brought me breakfast.” She swung her feet out of bed to the cold hardwood floor and ran a hand through what was probably a rat’s nest of hair. “And I can’t believe Karen just gave you the key to our room. You could be an ax murderer or something.”
“Yeah, I get that a lot. You know, people thinking I’m a blade-wielding psycho.”
Laughing, she stood and gave him a once-over. Oh, he was fine in his ski patrol jacket, black ski pants and ski boots. “Shouldn’t you be out rescuing people?”
“I am. I’m rescuing you.”
“From what?”
“This dismal room.” Eyes gleaming with mischief, he reached out, grasped her waist and pulled her to him.
The thick material of her pajamas was no defense against his cold jacket. Goosebumps shivered over her skin, but the steamy glint in his eyes chased away the chill. Her body, still primed for him after the erotic dream, responded independently of her brain, pressing against him as if trying to relive the fantasy.
Then he kissed her.
It wasn’t much of a kiss, barely more than a peck, but when he released her and stepped back, she stood there swaying like a teenage groupie who had just seen her first rock star. She desperately needed to get a grip on her hormones.
Clearing her throat, she gathered her wits and glanced at the food that must be part of his rescue technique. “Your job description isn’t very clear, is it?”
His killer smile had her traitorous heart tripping all over itself. “You need to get out in the sunshine.”
She peeked through her second-story window that was blocked by deep snow save for the one-inch space at the top. One more light snowfall, and even that small crack would be gone. It wasn’t unusual for the snow to reach the fourth, and even fifth floors in the winter, and guests would often use the windows as coolers, sticking their bottles of drinks into the snow during their stay. “It’s not sunny.”
“It is at the summit.” He checked his watch and slapped the key down on the dresser. “I’ll see you outside, right?”
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Give me an hour.”
What he gave her was another cocky grin. “You are really hot in the morning.” With a wink, he was gone.
Legs suddenly weak and rubbery, she sank down on a chair. Sean’s fun, uplifting energy amazed her. He clearly loved life and didn’t seem to let anything bother him. He was the polar opposite of her. She worried about everything and could rarely let herself just…go.
Even her dreams had been full of angst. At least, they had been u
ntil Sean invaded them.
But now it was back to reality. The reality where she was going to get back on skis for the first time in years and where she didn’t have an emcee for the auction. Even worse, she still had no job.
She had enough money saved to make the rent and car payments for a couple of months, but she did need work—and fast.
Hopefully Damon would calm down and not follow through with his threat to bar her from Mogul Media’s holdings. They owned more North American radio and television stations than any other corporation, and if she wanted a job, they were the company to work for.
She hated that she still felt like she needed Damon for something, especially after what he’d done to her last night, but she was so far down in the dumps right now that she didn’t know how to dig herself out.
Sighing, she plucked a slice of crispy bacon off the giant plate of food and nibbled on it while she checked her voicemail near the window, where her cell phone received a faint signal. Four messages. Two sorry-but-I-can’t-do-the-auctions and two sorry-we-don’t-have-any-openings-at-this-stations.
Had Damon already blackballed her? She wanted to scream, to pound on every single door at the lodge until she found him, and give him a piece of her mind. And maybe a piece of her fist in his face. That, at least, would give her a measure of satisfaction. Damon loved his surgically sculpted nose, and he had a talent for keeping it brown. Was Sean like that? She’d bet her last dollar that he didn’t bother with schmoozing and brown nosing.
This was a guy who had gone from public figure to anonymous, underpaid rescuer and appeared to be content. How refreshing. How noble. And how damned seductive when being seduced was the last thing she needed.
She tucked her legs beneath her and reached for a melon wedge as the memory of his mouth on hers last night turned over again and again in her head. No question, the man could kiss. He’d melted her very bones with his lips, his touch. And his assurance that he wouldn’t be stepping foot into the spotlight again as a professional athlete had darned near brought her over to the dark side.
She was ready for a fling that wouldn’t involve her heart, and Sean did say he was done with being famous.