Snowbound

  He laughed. “That bad?”

  “That bad.” But she took another bite. Anything to keep from thinking about her latest disaster. Besides, a girl had to keep her strength up around a sex machine like Sean.

  He sat down at the table with his own plate and drenched his pancakes with syrup. “So what now? Do you have more job options?”

  “You seem really concerned about my work situation.”

  Shrugging, he cut up his pancakes with his plastic fork. It took effort, she noticed. “I hate to see you upset. I want to help.”

  Part of her wanted to hug him for being so sweet, and part of her wanted to slap him for making her want to hug him. “Stop that.”

  “Stop what?”

  “Being wonderful. Trying to fix my problems.” She shifted in her seat and steeled herself for what needed to be said. “I don’t think getting involved any deeper in my life is wise.”

  His fork halted halfway to his mouth. “Why not?”

  “Because there’s no point.” She shoved to her feet and tossed her plate of half-eaten pancakes in the kitchen wastebasket. “I’m going to be gone in a week.”

  “So?”

  “So…this is fun. But that’s all. Let’s not take this thing we have any deeper or someone is going to get hurt.” That someone being her.

  He put down his fork and pushed his plate away. Something that looked like pain flashed in his eyes, but it must have been a trick of the firelight because no way could Sean believe what had gone on between them was more than sex despite the closeness they’d shared. They’d talked about this at the warming house, discussed jumping into a fling with both feet. Changing the rules now would be unfair.

  “What is this thing we have?” he asked softly.

  “We have sex.”

  “Great sex,” he amended.

  “Better than great sex.”

  Sean gave a single nod and dragged his gaze slowly down her body, and then even more slowly back up, and the atmosphere in the cabin suddenly thickened as the air charged with electricity. When his eyes finally captured hers, the hunger in them made her shiver, only this time, the cold draft was in no way responsible.

  “But is that all we have?” One corner of his mouth turned up in a sexy half-smile. “I mean, not that insanely mind-blowing sex is anything to sneeze at.”

  “No, it’s not. But I’m sure you’ve had lots of mind-blowing sex. I’m one more name on your list.”

  He’d glanced down at something on the floor, but now his head snapped up. “Robyn—”

  “Please, Sean, isn’t the sex enough? For now, at least?”

  She kicked herself for adding that last, the part where it sounded like maybe they could eventually have more. Who was she trying to make feel better? Him? Or her?

  It didn’t matter. She knew it wasn’t right to judge him on his past—the women, the fame, the money, and neither was it fair to assume that if all that came back to him he’d change. But she knew what fame and fortune did to people. She’d been around enough radio personalities and pop stars to know. And she wanted none of it, ever again.

  Her relationship with Sean could be about only one thing. And she’d prove it.

  Stepping closer to him but just out of reach, she peeled off her turtleneck and flung it to the couch. Then, under his narrowed gaze, she unhooked her bra. Slowly, so slowly she could barely stand it herself, she eased the straps down her arms and sent the bra skidding across the floor to his bare feet. He sprawled back in his chair, legs spread wide, his pose deceptively relaxed, but the flare of his nostrils and the tic in his jaw gave him away.

  Smiling, she unzipped her jeans and stepped out of them, loving how his fists had clenched over his thighs and how his Adam’s apple bobbed with every hard swallow. His reaction was a drug that chased away even the tiniest threat of anxiety and filled her with a confidence she’d never experienced. Boldly, she smoothed her hands from her throat to her breasts, where she cupped them, caressed the nipples with her thumbs until they tightened into sensitive peaks.

  “I’m imagining that my hands are yours,” she said, as she slid them to her waist and hooked her fingers on the elastic waist of her thong. Keeping an eye on her audience, she tugged down the already damp scrap of material.

  A gruff sound escaped Sean when she turned slightly and bent over, and she took her sweet time rolling her spine straight again. She stood there, amazed at her utter lack of self-consciousness. He stared at her like she was a goddess. Never had she felt so powerful and attractive.

  “Do that again,” he ground out. “Bend over.”

  Heart pounding in anticipation, she turned toward the fire and bent forward, bracing one hand on the back of the wicker couch and placing the other between her legs, high on her inner thigh. She could hear Sean’s deep, rapid breaths grow raspy as she drew her hand upward and slipped two fingers into her wet slit.

  Sean made a strangled sound when she inched her legs even farther apart and spread her lips wide. “So.” She tossed her head to look at him from over her shoulder. “Are you just going to sit there, or do I have to take care of myself?”

  Only a fool would have turned down what Robyn offered, and Sean sure as hell wasn’t a fool. He’d shoved to his feet with such force that his chair had slammed back against the wall, dropped to his knees behind her and punished her with his mouth for teasing him. He fucked her with his tongue until she begged for him to do the same with his cock. He could still hear the slap of his thighs against the back of hers as he took her from behind in a raw, powerful joining that had wrung them both dry and left them in a state of pleasant exhaustion.

  He smiled as he wrenched himself away from Robyn’s sleeping form and sat up on the bearskin rug. He skimmed a finger over the soft skin of her hip, knowing exactly how she tasted there, so sweet and warm.

  She was sweet, all right. And stubborn as a damn mule.

  Why didn’t she want his help finding a job? Who would turn that down? Irritation tugged at him, but he suspected that some of it came from the fact that if she didn’t want something as minor as his help, she’d be furious about the deal he’d made with Damon.

  And why did she want their relationship to be about nothing but sex? He’d tried to bring up the subject several times throughout the day, but each time she distracted him. Pleasantly, but still.

  He’d been under the impression that she wanted more, that when she’d said she wanted to jump in with both feet, she meant a real relationship. But all along she’d been talking about mindless sex. All along, she’d wanted what all the women of his past had wanted—either instant marriage to a celebrity and the lifestyle that came with it, or, as in Robyn’s case, a shallow fling with the stereotypical athlete who went for quantity, not quality, when it came to women.

  Shaking his head to clear his mind of the troubling thoughts—thoughts that he had been the stereotypical athlete, he pushed to his feet and fed the fire with one of the last logs stacked near the hearth. If they weren’t rescued soon, they’d be in trouble. He shot a look at the wicker furniture, though, and figured they’d be doing Robyn’s dad a favor by burning it.

  His stomach rumbled, and he glanced at his watch. Almost five o’clock. They’d taken a break between bouts of lovemaking to share a can of chili, but that had been three hours ago, and he was starving. Hopefully the storm had died down and they could ski out of here to some real food.

  Quietly, he donned his clothes and opened the door. Snow had piled in the doorway, leaving only a foot or so of clear space at the top, but through the narrow opening he could see blue sky. Finally, they could get out. He shut the door and used the radio to call the ski patrol. Rick, the supervisor, said he’d already sent Shane and Curtis on snowmobiles to check on them.

  Sure enough, the moment he unkeyed the radio, the faint rumble of engines joined the snapping of the fire. He turned to wake Robyn, but she must have heard him talking with Rick and had already scrambled up to dress. What a shame. She looke
d great naked.

  “What time is it?” she asked.

  He didn’t want to tell her. The reunion party he was supposed to take her to had already started in the lodge’s ballroom. “Time to get out of here.” She gave him a no-nonsense stare, and he sighed. “Five-thirty.”

  Running her fingers through her tangled hair, she frowned. “Great. I was supposed to meet up with the other charity event coordinator at five to discuss the auction on Saturday.”

  “We shouldn’t be that late. The guys will have us out of here in no time.”

  “By the time we get back to the lodge and clean up, she’ll probably have left.”

  He reached for his jacket. “We can still try.”

  “Are you always so optimistic?”

  “Are you always so pessimistic?”

  “Yes. See why we wouldn’t make a good couple?”

  He shrugged. “Opposites attract. We make a great couple.”

  “We aren’t a couple,” she said with a sniff.

  Impossible woman. The hum of the snowmobile engines grew louder, and he zipped up his jacket. “We’ll talk about this later.”

  “No, we won’t. There’s nothing to discuss. This is a fling, Sean. Nothing more.”

  Karma had a cruel sense of humor, because how often had he said those exact words in the past? “If I wasn’t who I am, could it be more?”

  She looked away. “I don’t know.”

  So he’d been right; this was still about his fame and fortune, even though he’d tried to convince her none of it made a difference. He wasn’t going to be a famous athlete again. And the sports announcer thing…well, that could be a one-time shot. He might hate it. He might be terrible at it. One thing was for certain though; he sure as hell wasn’t going to tell her about it now. Knowing her, she’d cut off even their physical relationship if she knew.

  He moved to the door to put on his boots, and she followed him to lay a hand on his arm. “You’re okay with this just being a fling, right?”

  “Yeah. I can deal with it.”

  He could. After all, a fling had been what he’d wanted from the beginning. The point of meeting Robyn in the first place had been to get laid so his life could get back to normal, which meant success and lots of women begging at his feet.

  That sounded great. Too bad it didn’t sound nearly as great as it had a few days ago.

  It took just under an hour for Sean’s ski patrol buddies to dig them out and give them a lift to the lodge on the snowmobiles. Robyn spent another hour showering, changing and pinning her hair up in a loose chignon. Now, she and Sean strolled along the lodge’s convention center halls toward the ballroom where the reunion party was well underway. Music popular during the years Robyn had been in high school grew louder.

  And the knot in her stomach grew larger.

  She pressed a clammy hand to her belly to steady her nerves as they threaded their way through a group of people talking outside the towering double doors, probably to escape the noise inside. No one recognized her, which hardly came as a surprise, but several people cast double takes at Sean and whispered his name.

  “I can’t believe you made it home and all the way back so fast,” she said as they entered the huge anteroom plastered with blown-up pictures taken from her class yearbook. “Aren’t the roads a mess after the storm?”

  He shook his head. “The north side of the mountain took the brunt of the frontal system. Road crews have already cleaned up the southeast side.” His gaze took a slow ride down her body, taking in the slinky black knee-length dress she’d slipped into. “You look great. I’ve never seen a woman look so good in heels in my life. Have I told you that?”

  “Once or twice,” she said with a laugh, “but keep it coming.”

  “How about if I keep you coming?”

  “You are very, very bad, Sean Trenton.”

  His naughty wink sent pleasant shivers straight to her core as they paused at the doorway to the foyer. Inside, two women sat at a table scattered with nametags.

  “Well,” Sean began, “are we going to go in, or do you want to do something more…fun?”

  She gave him what she’d intended to be a sideways glance, but he looked so good in a blue dress shirt, tie and black slacks that she couldn’t help but stare for a lot longer than qualified as a glance.

  “And I suppose you have something in mind?”

  “I have a lot of somethings in mind.”

  Oh, but she adored this man. “C’mon. Let’s at least take a look around so I can say I was here. And I need to see if Linda is around, let her know how the auction plans are coming along.”

  Or how they weren’t coming along. She could only imagine how enjoyable it was going to be to admit that she would be emceeing the auction instead of a celebrity as planned. She’d spoken with Linda, the assistant coordinator, two days ago, promising results, but now it didn’t look like she’d get a replacement for Damon. She’d even called the local radio and television stations to see if a resident personality could volunteer, but everyone was already booked for events related to the ski and snowboard competitions.

  Sean stopped her before they could take a step inside. “You’re really stressed about the auction. I know it’s a big job to coordinate everything, but why is it so important to you?”

  She could hear Karen’s voice echo in her head. You don’t need to prove anything. But she did. Maybe not so much to the people of her past, but to herself. Maybe, if she could face her demons, she’d scale back her insane drive to get to the top. One of her main hopes for a successful reunion and auction was that she’d feel better about herself, would be secure enough with her own measure of personal success to be content with a job in a smaller, more relaxed media market. Seattle or Portland, maybe, where she wouldn’t feel the pressure to be someone she wasn’t. Where she might enjoy the job again.

  “Robyn?”

  “It’s not that important,” she lied, partly because now wasn’t the time or place to have this discussion, and partly because she hardly wanted to admit the truth to herself, let alone Sean.

  He eyed her skeptically. “This is about what you told me in the cabin, isn’t it? It’s about how these people treated you in high school.”

  She said nothing, but understanding dawned in his eyes. Nodding sharply, as though he’d made a decision, he squeezed her hand. “I’m with you, baby. Let’s go.”

  Robyn felt as though her heart would burst through the walls of her chest. She wanted to kiss him, but instead she squeezed his hand back, hoping he understood how grateful she was, how much his strength meant to her.

  They stepped into the foyer, and she instantly recognized Rochelle Saxony, who had always been pleasant, if frosty. The other woman, Janice Hunter, had been an obnoxiously smart beauty whose jealousy of Robyn’s academic achievements had resulted in some of the cruelest torments in school. She and Gigi had been best friends.

  “Can we help you?” Janice asked, all smiles. “Are you a graduate from our class?”

  “I’m Robyn Montgomery.”

  No doubt Gigi had warned them ahead of time that Robyn the Troll wasn’t fat and ugly anymore, but the forewarning apparently hadn’t been enough, because their eyes almost bugged out of their heads.

  Rochelle found her voice first. “Gigi said you looked great, but…” Her gaze flickered to Sean and back. “Wow.”

  Janice held her hand out to Sean, who let go of Robyn’s and grasped Janice’s with a firm shake. “And this must be Sean Trenton, about whom I’ve heard so much.” She released him with obvious reluctance and flashed him a blinding smile. “Would you like to see what your date looked like back in the day?”

  No! “Thanks, Janice, but we’re in a hurry. Is Linda Brandenburg still inside?”

  “Oh, she left. So there’s no need to rush off,” Janice said with a dismissive wave. “Besides, it’s fun to reminisce, isn’t it?”

  She whipped open the senior annual, and Robyn’s stomach bottomed out. S
he’d confided to Sean that she’d been unattractive, but she hadn’t told him how unattractive.

  Gigi and two other women who had been part of the “in” crowd in high school chose that moment to appear, and Robyn prayed her advanced-formula deodorant lived up to its promises, because she was starting to sweat.

  “You’re just in time,” Janice announced, a wicked smile twisting her cranberry-colored lips. “We’re looking up old pictures of Robyn.”

  “Oh, fun!” Gigi chirped. “There’s a good one on page eighty-three.”

  Janice flipped to the page Gigi had mentioned and then, with glee in her eyes, spun it around to Sean. Robyn felt ill. There she was, posing for the school newspaper staff photo. She’d been at her heaviest ever, her complexion had been a disaster and her thick glasses had only added to the horror.

  Rochelle gave Robyn an apologetic look and reached for the book. “That’s enough. Let’s go get some food.”

  Janice pulled the yearbook from Rochelle’s grasp and looked up at Sean as though the other woman hadn’t spoken. “Amazing, isn’t it?” She tapped the picture with a jeweled nail.

  Until now, Sean’s expression had been closed, unreadable and utterly unlike him. At Janice’s snarky question, he smiled thinly and reached for Robyn’s hand.

  “Yeah, it’s amazing,” he said, and Janice and Gigi exchanged looks of mutual satisfaction. “Amazing that ten years later, you still act like you’re in high school.”

  He slammed the book shut and turned to Robyn, fierce anger and possessiveness lighting his eyes. “Stay or go?”

  Her chest grew tight around her somersaulting heart. Sean surprised her on every level, and as she stood there with his hand in hers, she felt every one of her defenses crumble. It felt good. Scary, but good.

  “Go.” She slanted him a grateful smile. Then she turned to the gaggle of red-faced women and realized that she, too, was still acting like she was in high school. She’d given them way too much power over her, and it had to end. “And to think, I was in a hurry to get here, when I could have spent more time alone in a cabin with him. What was I thinking?”