Chapter 21

The power had gone out over an hour ago, but it was still fairly warm in the house. Right now, Gina was biding time since the slot beside the hearth in the great room was only half full of wood. She’d readied the fire, but with luck, the power would be back on before she needed to light it for heat.

She swept aside the red, mink Sherpa throw covering her legs and set her laptop and notebook aside on the table in front of the couch. She had a number of candles lit to keep the lengthening shadows at bay, and decided to go pick out a book from Dean’s study for when her laptop battery died.

Halfway through the kitchen, a loud bang from the garage nearly stopped her heart. When another noise followed, it started beating again, ten times as fast. That was way different than the occasional muffled thump of a tree branch hitting the roof or scratching against one of the windows. More like a person had stumbled over something out there.

For a brief second, she wondered if Dean had come home.

No. He’d have called. And there was no way he’d make it in this weather.

Which meant she had no clue who might be out there trying to get in.

Backing toward the study while attempting to get some oxygen into her constricted lungs, she rationalized the noise had come from outside the main house.

And she’d set the security system—oh, shit, was it even on with the power out? Her gaze cut to the small panel alongside the French doors in the kitchen. Green light. Dean must have a battery backup. Thank God.

From one second to the next, green switched to blinking red.

The door that led from the garage to the back hall thumped against the wall, lodging her heart in her throat.

Someone’s in the house.

She bit back a scream and forced her shaking knees to carry her to the study. She could lock that door and it would give her time to hide—

“Gina.”

The weak call from the hall brought her up short. Frowning, she hurried though the kitchen. Her eyes widened at the sight of Dean slumped against the wall, soaking wet. As she rushed to his side, the security system began beeping a warning, and the red light flashed increasingly faster.

“What’s the code?”

He had to repeat it twice before she got the little light back to green again. Then she turned her full attention on him. “What happened? What are you doing here? Why aren’t you at Mike’s?”

“Y-you o-k-kay?”

Forget soaking wet. His clothes were practically frozen on his body and stiff to the touch. The hand she grabbed was like a block of ice, and his teeth chattered uncontrollably. Yet the concern in his brown eyes was unmistakable.

“I’m fine, but we’ve got to get you warmed up.” She dragged his arm over her shoulder, and let him lean against her as she led him to the couch in the great room. God, he was so cold, his entire body was wracked with shivers. “Take off those wet clothes while I start the fire.”

As soon as the flames licked at the paper she’d laid beneath the wood earlier, she turned back to find him still fumbling with the first button on his shirt. His fingers must be numb, and his tie kept getting in the way. A tie? She’d never seen him wear one before, and even half-frozen, he looked so damn hot.

She hurried around the coffee table and knelt in front of him on the area rug to brush his hands out of the way. “Let me help.”

He didn’t protest, and after loosening the tie, she pulled it over his head and tossed it aside. Ignoring the few drops of moisture that flicked from his hair, she started on the buttons of his shirt. She kept her gaze focused on her hands as they moved lower, then lower still. Positioned between his thighs, she felt the tremors that shook his chilled body, as well as the weight of his gaze with each wild beat of her heart.

A couple tugs freed the shirttails from his pants, and she rose up to push the material back over his shoulders. If his skin wasn’t so icy, she’d have taken extra time to enjoy the task. Making quick work of the buttons at his wrists, she sent the shirt to join his tie.

The fire behind her warmed her back, but it was an entirely different heat that warmed her face as he leaned back on the couch while she reached for the buckle on his belt.

A quick peek though her lashes caught his tired attempt at a smile. “If I weren’t so d-damn c-cold, I’d be enj-joying this.”

She had a feeling he still was, despite the chatter of his teeth. At least it’d lessened in intensity. Giving him a brief smile, she pulled the belt free, then undid the fastener of his dress pants and slid the zipper down. Next came the shoes and his soggy socks.

Needing a distraction as he lifted his hips to help her slide his slacks down, she asked, “What the heck happened, anyway?”

“Some j-jerk almost hit me. I rolled m-my c-car.”

Alarm fisted her hand in the drenched pants as she set them aside and sat back on her heels. “What? Why were you even out here? You were supposed to be at Mike’s.”

“I thought Jack might c-come by.”

Her eyes widened as pain hit her chest. He still didn’t trust her. “Are you serious? You still think I’m—”

“No,” he exclaimed weakly. “Not like that.” He closed his eyes with a sigh, then looked at her again. “We m-made sure the employee we suspect is feeding Jack information knew the house would be empty. We were h-hoping to get him to do something s-stupid. Then I found out you were still here.”

“Oh.” Ooooh. He’d driven out in the ice storm to make sure she was safe. Her heart swelled with emotion as she ran her gaze over his body, now bare except for those clinging boxer briefs. There was no holding back her frown at the thought of him getting hurt because of her. But besides the near hypothermia, he seemed unharmed with no visible injuries.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Other than the fact I’ll probably be s-sore as hell tomorrow.”

“And your SUV?”

“P-pretty sure it’s totaled.”

“Where did this happen?”

“Couple miles away.”

Miles. She blinked back an unexpected sting of tears and got to her feet. His cold hand locked on her wrist with plenty of strength, and she paused in surprise. His gaze flicked down toward his waist, then back to her face. Ironically, the clear message lightened the mood even as her stomach fluttered in nervous excitement. The man was going to be just fine.

With a soft laugh, she shook her head and reached for the blanket she’d been using earlier. “You’ll have to manage those on your own.” An infinitesimal narrowing of his eyes preceded his indrawn breath to speak, but she stalled him by tossing the blanket in his face. “No—no dares.”

“T-that’s no fun,” he complained, pulling the throw down onto his lap.

“Get over by the fire,” she ordered. “I’m going to get you some dry clothes.”

She sidestepped out of reach until he asked, “C-can I use your phone? I lost mine in the car and need to let Mike know I’m h-home so he doesn’t call the police.”

After handing over her cell, she hurried up the stairs for clean briefs, socks, a pair of drawstring lounge pants, and a T-shirt. By the time she returned, her phone sat on the coffee table, and he’d wrapped the blanket around him to sit on the stone hearth in front of the crackling fire. One quick glance at the pile of wet clothes on the floor confirmed he was naked under that Sherpa throw.

Mmm. What she wouldn’t give for a peek.

Yeah, right. You had your chance, chicken.

So true. She handed him the dry clothes, then stepped over to pick up the wet ones. “No coffee since the power is out, but I can light the burner on the gas stove and either make you some tea, or hot chocolate.”

“There’s a bottle of Frangelico in the bar in my office. Throw in a couple shots of that, and I’ll take the hot chocolate.”

Sounded good to her, too. And even better, she noticed his chilled chatter had completely disappeared.

“You get a hold of Mike?”

“Yes.”

“You should also report your accident so the cops don’t search for you if they come across your vehicle,” she suggested over her shoulder as she turned to leave.

In the kitchen, she started boiling the water in the tea kettle, opened a couple cans of chicken soup from in the cupboard, then went to spread his clothes over the utility tubs in the laundry room off the back hall. A quick trip to his office retrieved the hazelnut liqueur, and she was back at the stove to stir the soup and mix the hot chocolate.

He was still in front of the fire when she returned with a loaded tray of steaming mugs and soup bowls. A corner of the blanket slipped when he reached to take a mug, revealing his bare shoulder. “Thank you.”

Heaven help her, was he still naked under there?

She peeked sideways while setting down the tray, and breathed a silent breath of relief—or maybe disappointment—when all she saw was his T-shirt on the hearth. A glance down confirmed socks and pants visible beneath the bottom edge of the blanket.

“Did you call the police?”

He nodded.

“Good, then come and eat. I heated some soup for dinner.”

“You didn’t have to do all this, but I appreciate it,” he said as he came joined her on the couch.

“It’s the least I can do,” she murmured, swiveling to hand him a bowl of the hot soup. Then she slid back with her own. It was a big couch, yet he’d sat close enough that his thigh rested against hers, solid and surprisingly warm. Her nervous reaction was to shift away, but she checked it at the last second.

“Before, you said someone almost hit you. What happened? Clearly they didn’t stop to help.”

“A truck came up behind me way too fast for the conditions,” he explained as they ate. “I eased over toward the shoulder and when it passed, I thought it might be Jack. But by then, my tires caught in the gravel and it pulled me right to the edge. With the ice, I had no way of stopping.”

“Do you really…” She paused as the rest of the sentence registered in her head.

“What?”

“I realize it may be a dumb question given what’s already happened, but do you really think he’d do something like that? I mean, you could’ve been killed.” The thought shot agonizing pain through her heart.

“It’s precisely because of what’s already happened that I wouldn’t put anything past him,” Dean affirmed. “He’s in much deeper than just stealing from me.”

She couldn’t help a glance of surprise. “How do you know that?”

“The PI I’ve got looking into him learned some interesting things from some reliable contacts.”

Must be the guy Jackson had said was following him around, poking his nose into his business.

“You ever notice him do anything strange money-wise? Or help him with any of his business dealings? Meet people who didn’t quite seem to fit?”

She frowned. “No…why?”

“It’s been bugging me that he threatened you to keep your mouth shut over the computer stuff when he knows you have no leg to stand on.”

“He’s worried about his reputation.”

“Maybe.” He shrugged, then canted his head in her direction. “Or maybe you heard or saw something you shouldn’t have, and now he’s worried you’ll make the connection. Or that you already have.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know really, but just give it some thought. Think about things you may have seen while working on his computer. People he talked to while you were out. If you come up with anything the next couple days, let me know.”

A chill ran down her spine. What in the world could Jackson think she knew that would hurt him?

Dean had finished eating, and with his empty bowl resting in his lap, he leaned his head back and shut his eyes. The throw draped about his shoulders hung on either side of his muscled arms. She took advantage of the opportunity to run her gaze over his bare chest and the defined ridges on his torso. A narrow trail of hair led down into the waistband of his pants and the urge to retrace the same path with her hands made her fingers tighten on her dish.

“You know,” he drawled, “if the power doesn’t come on in a few hours, we’ll have to share body heat to stay warm.”

A quick glance up saw his eyes were still closed. For someone who’d been frozen less than an hour ago, he didn’t appear the least bit cold anymore. Stubble covered his jaw, giving him a rugged look that was positively dangerous. Add the images his comment conjured, and she was sure she could heat all seven thousand square feet on her own.

Gina reached over and lifted his dish from his slack fingers to stack inside hers. As she stood and leaned over to set them on the tray, something else occurred to her. “If Jackson ran you off the road, why do you think he—Oh!”

Large hands grasped her hips and pulled her back onto a firm pair of thighs. He’d rotated her body so she landed sideways, her butt in the cradle of his hips, and her back supported by his unyielding right arm.

His rich chocolate gaze met hers in the combined candle and firelight. “I don’t want to talk about Jack anymore.”

Acutely aware of his body beneath her, against her, hell, all around her, she had a hard time catching her breath. And when she did, his musky male scent had her fighting to catch it again. “What do you want to talk about?”

“Payback.”

It sounded like he had gravel in his throat, and his reference to their earlier phone call shot her temperature up another notch. She’d forgotten about that, but clearly, he hadn’t.

His face was half in shadow, but it made no difference because his eyes were…alive. She wouldn’t have said they glowed, yet there was something about them as they held her captive from behind those crazy-thick frames of dark lashes.

Her mouth went dry, as if suddenly stuffed full of cotton. She tried to moisten her lips with her tongue, only to have his attention zero in on the movement. His eyes darkened. His head closed in, and her lashes fluttered shut for the kiss she knew was a breath away.

Warm lips brushed hers softly, then drew away. Not too far—she could still feel the light caress of his breath, smell the hazelnut from his liberally laced hot chocolate. Without opening her eyes, she leaned into him, palm braced on his chest where his heart beat fast and steady beneath her touch. She slid her hand up to his shoulder, relishing the hard, sinewy muscles beneath the smooth heat of his skin. When she threaded her fingers through his hair, a groan rumbled up from deep in his chest, and his arms closed tight as his lips claimed hers once more.

There was nothing soft about him now. Not his mouth, not his chest, and most definitely not the lap upon which she sat. She eagerly opened to the press of his tongue against her lips, welcoming his deep, greedy exploration. He took everything she offered and demanded more.

One hand rose to cup her cheek, and then he tunneled his fingers through her hair. Her scalp tingled as he lightly fisted the strands, angling her head until his mouth trailed from her lips to her ear. A nip to her earlobe sent a spear of sensation straight to her core. He sucked the lobe into his mouth while sliding his palm down from her hair, along her neck.

She felt him pause at the base of her throat, his thumb pressed against the wild pulse that throbbed with her excitement. His mouth replaced his thumb, his tongue swirling in a circle before his teeth raked against her skin.

At her sharp inhale and low whimper of pleasure, his smile curved against her throat. “Do that again.”

This time, his love bite made her gasp. He kept up the assault until the combination of his lips, tongue, and teeth wrung a moan from her parted lips. Wow. And he hadn’t even touched her below the neck yet.

“That’s what I was looking for.” Satisfaction dripped from his words.

Drowning in sensation, a distant part of her thought this was the last place she’d expected to be tonight. In his arms, on his lap, aching for his mouth on every inch of her body. His skin against hers. Earlier, she’d cursed the weather, now if only he’d slide that wickedly wonderful tongue lower, she’d bow down in worship of Mother Nature.

Unexpectedly, that thought made her pause. Made her think of the past couple hours. She drew in a breath and managed to speak. “Dean…?”

“What?” His warm breath fanned her ear again, then the tip of his tongue traced the shell. Hot shivers of need cascaded up and down her spine.

What was I saying? Oh yeah… “Maybe we…shouldn’t do this.”

“Why not?”

“Because…you…” Good God, his mouth was making it damn hard for her to concentrate. She squeezed her eyes shut in an attempt to focus. “You were…just in a car accident.”

“Which makes me twice as happy to be here right now.”

“I’m serious,” she protested with a half-hearted push against his chest that did absolutely nothing.

“So am I.”

His hand slipped beneath the hem of her sweater while he kissed her neck. Her stomach quivered beneath his fingers.

“Haven’t you heard about life and death situations making people want to reaffirm life?”

“Yes.” Her eyes popped opened, and she blinked at the log rafters on the shadowed ceiling. “Wait—is that all this is?”

“Hell no.” He pulled back to lock his gaze with hers and his breath caressed her lips again. “After the past week, how can you even ask that question?”

“You’re right. Sorry.”

He kissed away her sheepish smile. “However, there is no one I’d rather reaffirm life with than you. You in?”

His husky tone was like golden honey, warm and sticky, flowing down her spine as he weakened her last bit of concerned resistance.

She laid her palms against his stubble-covered jaw and whispered her approval against his lips. “I’m all in.”

As his kiss threatened to consume her, he leaned her back, shifting her off his lap until he could maneuver to cover her body with his on the couch. Kissing him was amazing, but impatient for his touch, she pushed him back into a kneeling position and sat up to drag her red sweater over her head. By the time she’d tossed it aside, he’d managed to unhook her bra.

She caught the material before it fell away from her breasts. “Had lots of practice with that, have you?” she challenged with a lift of her eyebrows. Anything to distract from the brief worry he would be disappointed that her curves up top weren’t centerfold measurements.

“I’ve always been good with my fingers,” he replied.

“All that typing you do?”

“Exactly.” He traced one finger up her arm, hooked it in the loose strap, and slid it off her shoulder. “Let it go, Gina.”

A thrill shot through her at his low-voiced command. She released the bra and he pulled it from her grasp. Her reward was a kiss that laid her back onto the couch until the light sprinkle of hair on his chest teased her tight, aching nipples. She wanted his weight on her. His hands. His mouth. Desire made her arch up against him as she moaned against his lips.

He threaded his fingers with hers and raised her arms above her head, his grip firm. When he lifted his head, those darkened brown eyes met hers, so full of heat and promise.

“Trust me?”

“Yes.”

“Then I want you to stay just like this. Promise?”

She swallowed in nervous anticipation, but didn’t hesitate to nod her agreement.

That’s when her real torture began. He pushed up and sat back. She watched his gaze as it traced every inch of her exposed flesh. Her breasts moved with each shallow, expectant, self-conscious, aroused breath she took.

“You are amazing,” he murmured. “Perfect.”

She held her breath as he leaned forward. His fingers tugged on the button of her jeans, and she had to keep from huffing in frustration when he didn’t touch her breasts. God, he was killing her here. Once the zipper was down, she lifted so he could pull the denim over her hips before whisking them off, along with her socks.

Lying there with only her red panties on, she’d never felt more vulnerable. Or beautiful. His eyes worshiped her body so thoroughly, all her self-doubts were cast aside, and she could only imagine the sensations when he began touching. If he planned to tonight, she’d really like to know.

“Dean…” She bit her tongue before the please could escape.

“Shh.”

“What are you doing?”

His gaze rose to hers, lit by the flame of a candle on the side table behind her head. “I told you, you were going to pay for what you did on the phone.”

Her heart skipped at the velvet-coated guarantee.

He hooked his fingers in the material of her lacy underwear and pulled them down over her hips. “Do you have any idea how distracted I was the rest of the day?”

She shook her head. He slid first one side of the red fabric down, then the other, agonizingly slow as his attention remained fixed on the auburn curls at the juncture of her thighs. Vulnerability hit again, and she had to grasp the couch cushion to keep her arms where she’d promised they’d stay.

“I got hard in my meeting. That’s never happened to me before.”

A sense of power rippled through her at the thought of her jeans and T-shirt man all hot and bothered while buttoned up in his suit and tie. Damn, that was hot. Even if she’d wanted to, she couldn’t have held back the thrilled little smile that curved her lips.

His fingers had been performing a gentle massage from her feet to her calves, but at the sight of her smile, his hands tightened, eyes narrowed. “You don’t even feel sorry for me, do you?”

She lowered her lashes to observe the impressive bulge in his pants that she’d felt throbbing against her backside when she’d sat on his lap. Her smile widened to a grin. “Nope.”

“That’s fine.” The sensual threat in his tone said the opposite. He slid his hands to her knees and spread her legs apart. “Better than fine, because my payback is going to be really fun.”

Her breath seized in her lungs. Spread open before him, every single cell in her body became electrified. Waiting, wanting, anticipating him.

He lowered his head until his warm breath caressed her skin, then the stubble on his jaw abraded the sensitive area of her inner thigh.

Her already pounding heart shifted into a rhythm she’d never imagined possible. Then his mouth finally touched her flesh and every single sensation multiplied ten-fold. He made good on his promise, teasing her—no, torturing her—until time suspended and her world exploded. She might have screamed, or something, she had no idea and didn’t much care.

Aftershocks rippled across her skin as she lay with her eyes closed, once again struggling to catch her breath.

Yes, it had been torture. Of the most exquisite kind—and if he asked, she’d let him do it all over again.