To my own crazy kiwi, my Pimp Shell, who read

Little Conversations and seemed to think I was worth

pimping. And to my baby SmutSister, my bedazzling

partner-in-crime and roomie this July.

Can’t wait to see you bitches in Edinburgh!

She found him on a snowy night.

He sparked her desires and inflamed her dreams.

Independent and feisty, Shea Madison has a tussle on her hands. Living in and loving her quiet little corner of Montana, she’s fiercely determined to fight a real estate developer trying to turn her quaint little mountain town into a touristy ski resort. So, when an outsider shows up to study the effects on the area, she instantly attempts to sway his impression… even if it means a little harmless flirting with the enticing visitor.

Rhys Weland’s charade has one purpose—to bring the locals around to the idea of the resort, primarily the ringleader, Ms. Shea Madison. Embroiled in his deception, he’s stunned by the feelings she draws from deep inside him. Her integrity and sincerity quickly have him second-guessing his twisted morals. Her spirit arouses his soul. Her sensuality steals his breath.

In the dark of the night, in the warmth of the fire, the passion smoldering between them combusts. But just when it all seems to make sense, one small stubborn mistake shreds the fragile bond between them.

Will an impetuous act reignite their flame, or will their love vanish like sparks in the air?

© 2013, Sibylla Matilde

SibyllaMatilde@gmail.com

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the Sibylla Matilde.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. With the exception of the original material written by the author, all songs, song titles, and lyrics contained in this book are the property of the respective songwriters and copyright holders.

Table of Contents

Table of Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1 ~ The Cabin

Chapter 2 ~ The Target

Chapter 3 ~ The Guest

Chapter 4 ~ The Store

Chapter 5 ~ The BFF

Chapter 6 ~ The Meeting

Chapter 7 ~ The Bar

Chapter 8 ~ The Escape

Chapter 9 ~ The Night

Chapter 10 ~ The Fire

Chapter 11 ~ The Morning

Chapter 12 ~ The Dress

Chapter 13 ~ The Dinner

Chapter 14 ~ The Library

Chapter 15 ~ The Surrender

Chapter 16 ~ The Truce

Chapter 17 ~ The Awakening

Chapter 18 ~ The Betrayal

Chapter 19 ~ The Anger

Chapter 20 ~ The Conscience

Chapter 21 ~ The Goodbye

Chapter 22 ~ The Spring

Epilogue ~ The Dream

Music that inspired the story

Excerpt from Broken Truth

Acknowledgements

About Sibylla

Prologue

Her hands closed over his cock, gripping tightly as he pressed her up against the copy machine.

Rhys had just been followed into the copy room by Becky, the newest little doe-eyed intern. The girl had only been here for a week, but she’d been casting super-fuck-me-raw eyes at him since her first day in the office. She was actually rather embarrassingly obvious, bordering on skanky. That said, every other jackass in the office had been sniffing after her, so he figured he’d take one for the team and try her out. It had been a while since his last ‘job’ and, after being lured by her not-so-subtle invitations, he’d kinda been aching to nail her sweet little ass… any sweet little ass, actually.

Her soft voice mewled in his ear as he slowly grazed his fingers along her slender, bare thigh to raise her incredibly short skirt. He caught a glimpse of her itty bitty silky red panties before he tugged her leg up to his side and pressed his hardness against her.

Becky’s arms reached around his neck to flatten herself tighter against him and, for a moment, her perfume was overpoweringly strong. He lifted his head to get a breath of clean air, and she took the opportunity to press wet kisses down his throat as she rubbed up against him.

His hand was just about to dip into the wetness between her thighs when McHugh stuck his head in the door, not even blinking at the compromising situation before him, and told Rhys to meet him in his office… immediately.

Fuck… what shitty timing.

Rhys tossed a seductive smile down at the slutty little intern, and tapped her on her pert little butt. “Later, Becky…”

“Promise?” she asked, running her fingers down her hips to smooth her very short skirt.

He chuckled. “You’re sweet, but I’m not one to make promises.”

“Rhys…” she pouted.

“We’ll have to see…” he said with a lascivious grin as he strolled out of the room.

“What’s up, boss?” he asked as he sauntered into McHugh’s office and plopped down in the chair, smoothing his dark hair back from his forehead.

Rhys had been working for McHugh Corporation, a multi-million dollar development firm based in Portland, Oregon, for the past eight years. He’d been hired on as a promising architect right out of college, although his role quickly morphed into what could only be called corporate debauchery. While Rhys was phenomenal at designing and planning buildings, McHugh had found that his killer smile and sexy charisma had even more strategic uses, smoothing the way for the developer’s plans, charming and screwing his way through resistance to McHugh’s projects. Rhys’ father would be horrified if he knew what kind of man he had become, one of the many reasons he tended to avoid any conversations with the old man.

McHugh looked over his bifocal glasses, twisting his mouth into a wry grin.

“Well, first of all… I’d appreciate it if you’d quit trying to hump the new intern. She’s actually a rather talented protégé, but you’ll have her crying sexual harassment as soon as you get bored. Keep your smooth moves out of the office and save them for the clients.”

Rhys shifted uncomfortably in his seat, still feeling the ache of blueballs tight against his pants. Apparently McHugh didn’t realize that he was the game in this little hunting expedition. But he’d think about trying to get Becky to back off… maybe.

“And second, put away your suits for a while and dig out your winter gear. I’m sending you to Montana… to a little town called Snowcreek. It’s along the west side of Flathead Lake. Perfect, and I mean perfect, place for my new resort. I can make it bigger and better than Tahoe. And the time,” McHugh banged on the desk for emphasis, “is now. Their economy is hurting because logging went to hell with the housing market crash and the pine beetle infestation.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard all about it from my dad.” Rhys grimaced as he sat up straight and smoothed his tie. “He’s like a damn broken record.”

“Well, we’ll come in, clear out some of the dead trees, and build a five-star resort. I’ll never get a better chance to sway public opinion, to get the land so cheap. To give jobs to some of those poor folks. And make a shitload of money doing it.” McHugh grinned widely, lighting a cigar and drawing on it deeply, piping the smoke out into classic little rings. “The only problem is, some of the locals aren’t too keen on the idea. That’s where you come in. You’re from Montana. You know what the place is like. This should be a piece of cake.”

“Montana is a big state, McHugh,” Rhys laughed. “I’ve never even been to this neck of the woods.”

“Big state with a small population. You’ve got connections there. You know the people.”

“Uhh… sir, not everyone in Montana knows each other.”

“Maybe not, but you know how they think. You grew up there. Throw on a flannel shirt and some jeans, and you can fit right in. You know how to communicate with them. You, my boy, can charm the pants right off them. You really are quite gifted that way.”

“Great, you want me to go charm the pants off a bunch of lumberjack women. Women named Olga who have hairy upper lips and big buck teeth and unibrows. That’s awesome,” Rhys scoffed, causing McHugh to laugh heartily.

“Well, if anyone can make a lumberjack feel like a lady, it would be you. I’ll need you to really work it when you get there. Most of the folks are kind of ambivalent. They aren’t getting too excited about it one way or the other. There’s not really anyone there who’s dying for it to happen. Some shit about retaining their history and keeping their quaint little town the way it is. And then there’s this one in particular, some little bitch that grew up there, lives back in the mountains. She’s made it her mission in life to keep my resort out. So, I recommend you put your smooth moves to work. You know, flash that panty-dropping smile, wink those baby blues, murmur in her ear, that sort of thing.”

“Fuck… you make me sound like such a whore,” Rhys smiled.

“If the shoe fits, pretty boy…” McHugh chuckled. “And I think you’ve tried it on plenty of times to know it does. You’ve done a lot of good work for me. Just think, it could be worse. Not all jobs have the perks this one does. You’re certainly never lonely.”

Rhys chuckled. “Yeah, true. I like it better, though, when you’re planning these places in warm climates where I can check out the body before I really have to hit it. Cold weather means big muscly chicks who wrestle bears and moose and shit. There’s a reason I left all that behind, McHugh.”

“Rhys, you left Montana when you were just out of high school. You were looking at this all through the eyes of a boy. You may just find the job not too bad after all. I’ve seen a few pictures of this little squeaky wheel. She’s actually not that bad. No model, by all means. But I’ve seen worse. For that matter, you’ve done worse.”

Rhys nodded and smiled with a heavy sigh. “Fine… you know I’ll go anyway. I don’t know why you even bother to make it sound like a question. But I think I should get hazard pay for this one. Those Montana girls can be quite a handful, in more ways than one.”

McHugh laughed. “Rhys, my boy, you pull this off, and I’ll buy you a vacation on a nude beach in the Caribbean.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” Rhys grinned. “So, who is this squeaky wheel, anyway? If I’m going to have to butter her up, I’ll at least need to know her name.”

“Might help.” He smiled and opened a file, pulling out a slip of paper covered in text with a blurry, almost featureless picture up in the corner. He handed it to Rhys. “Her name is Shea Madison.”

Chapter 1 ~ The Cabin

My God, it was fucking freezing!  Rhys watched the snow pile up on the hood of his little rental car, aggravated by the sheer quantity of it as the world slowly darkened around him. A faint cast of moonlight poured through the clouds from time to time, and the flashing indicator of his hazard lights was beginning to imprint on his brain.

He was stuck in a ton of snow. On the side of the road. For God only knows how long. In a fucking Prius that shouldn’t even be on this road in good weather. The car was the last vehicle at the rental place. He really should have just waited for something better. And, of course, back in the mountains like this, there was no signal whatsoever on his cell phone. He felt like a complete ass.

It had been years since he’d driven in weather this bad, but it hadn’t even been snowing when he left the little town. The sign a while back had only said twelve miles to Lost Lake, but twelve miles on a mountain road could take forever. And then, as though higher powers were conspiring against him, the heavy, wet snow began to dump. Why the fuck hadn’t he checked the weather reports?

He knew better. Storms could come and go so fast in the mountains. This one seemed to have come quickly and was now just hovering over him. As though it was simply trying to make his life harder. Visibility was shit, and the already covered dirt road began to become more treacherous as darkness quickly fell. Rhys had forgotten just how dark it could get, and how rapidly.

Already frustrated for having to be out in the middle of fucking no-man’s-land, Rhys had felt the right front tire catch in the shoulder of the road. Even at the snail’s pace he had been travelling, the deep snow covering the embankment had sucked him into the barrow ditch like a giant magnet. Pushing and pulling and digging the snow out from behind the tires was useless. He was pissed as hell. And really fucking cold.

Shit!

It was no use. He’d never get the car out on his own. And he’d be a freakin’ idiot to try and walk anywhere, especially in the dark. He had no idea how far out he was. He remembered a house at the turn-off towards the mountains, but the dark and the freezing temperatures gave him pause. His best bet was to stay with the car.

After what seemed like forever, a flicker of light in the rearview mirror caught his eyes. Holy shit! Headlights? Really? Who the fuck would be coming out here this time of night?

It looked to be a big truck, exactly what he had wanted from the rental agency, what he had argued for, practically pleaded for.

In a frigid daze, he watched the lights come closer, their glow filtered by the frosty windows, until they finally stopped on the road beside him. He scraped the icy layer off the window and looked through it to watch a short bundle of winter gear pile out of the big pickup and stumble through the deepening snow. The form drew closer, coming right up to the driver side window. Rhys scraped off a little more frost to clear the view of his savior. Deeply buried beneath a heavy knit hat and scarf and reflecting the dash lights of his car, he saw the most intriguing pair of hazel eyes peering down at him with concern.

He hit the button to roll down the window, but it didn’t move. It was frozen shut. He reached for the door handle, but the door opened before he touched it, and the hazel-eyed, bundled-up form began to speak in an angelically sweet tone.

“What the fuck are you doing out here?”

Hmmm… Maybe not so angelic after all.

Taken aback by her harsh tone, Rhys instantly felt defensive. Keep it mellow, Rhys, he coached himself. Think before you talk. “Well, it’s, uh… not like I really planned to sit here freezing my balls off.”

“Fucking tourists…” the heavyset little form muttered, “showing up for some God-damned winter wonderland and then don’t know what the fuck they’re doing.” She stomped to the back of the car, slipping a little on the steep embankment. “Jesus Christ, you’re high-centered and buried… I can’t even see your axles,” she grumbled as she climbed back up to the hill.

Standing back on the level surface of the road, her hands on her bulky hips, she stared at him for a moment. With a deep sigh, she huffed, “Well, come on. We’re a lot closer to my place than to town, and the roads are atrocious. I’ll take you there, and we can call Frankie for a tow. As bad as you’re buried and with the steep shoulder, I don’t want to be responsible for the damages if I pull your car out, and, trust me, it can do some damage.”

Rhys pulled himself from the car, a bit of a feat the way it was perched on the sharp embankment of the shoulder. “I’ll tell you what, sweetheart,” he sarcastically grumbled down at her short form. “I’d hate to be a burden, so why don’t you just slide your little ass into your truck, toodle yourself home, and call for a tow truck. I’ll wait here.”

“Are you fucking out of your mind? You’re going to freeze to death waiting. Either that, or you’ll become asphyxiated the way the snow is quickly burying your little car. I don’t want that shit on my conscience. So, you,” she poked at his chest with a thick-mittened hand, “get in the damn truck.”

With that, she turned on her heavy snow-booted heel and stomped to the driver side of her pickup. As she rounded the vehicle, she glanced back at him and stopped. Holding out her arms to her sides with frustration, she gave him a what-the-fuck-are-you-waiting-for look. “Well?” she grumbled.

Rhys reached down the incline behind him to grab the keys, shutting the car door behind him. When he turned back around, she was already in the truck, her heavily-clothed little form just a shadow in the dimly lit interior. Rhys slid and skated his way across the slippery road to the passenger door and opened it to see a huge, furry form with brown eyes staring at him suspiciously.

“Wolfie, get in back,” the woman said from the driver seat.

The dog didn’t move. He continued to assess Rhys skeptically.

Rhys murmured, “Um, maybe I should get in the backseat instead.”

The woman very nearly growled, and the primal sound of her voice sent a shiver of desire straight to his cock. “Wolfie…really… Get. In. Back.”

Wolfie gave one last watch-it-buster look to Rhys, then climbed obediently into the backseat of the quad-cab truck with a heavy sigh.

“Jesus, I think that’s the biggest fucking dog I’ve ever seen,” Rhys mumbled to himself as he climbed into the cab of the truck, a bit mystified by the effect her voice had on him. He was totally a manwhore, but he was, in the very least, a little selective. He needed to get laid… badly. It had been a few weeks. That had to be it. That had to be the reason this backwoods little thing with her deep hazel eyes and her husky, irritated voice affected him so strongly. “Wolfie, huh? Like a wolf? He does look wolfish… big wolfish, but wolfish, nonetheless.”

“He’s an Alaskan Shepard—Malamute and German Shepard cross. He’s a little big. Kinda bred to be. A tough son-of-a-bitch.” She smiled coolly from underneath her thick scarf. “He keeps away the bad guys.” Was that some kind of a warning? Rhys raised an eyebrow, and she responded with a nod before putting the truck in gear.

“Good to know…” Rhys mumbled. As an afterthought, he reached for the key fob and pushed the button to automatically lock the doors of his rental. The flash of lights and quick honk of the horn seemed to amuse the thick little form beside him.

“Really?” she chuckled under her breath. “Are you, um… afraid someone’s gonna steal it?”

Rhys could only shrug. “Better safe than sorry, right?”

Slowly, the truck began to climb up the hilly mountain road, its high frame and large, studded snow tires pushing the heavy vehicle through the deepening snow.

The faint light emanating from the dash gave Rhys a slightly better look at her features… well, at least the ones that weren’t covered. Her eyes looked ahead, but were fringed with thick, dark lashes. He did his best to not get caught looking over at her. She was already pissed at him for some reason, so the last thing he needed was her thinking he was perving all over her. She had pulled the scarf down slightly, revealing a pert nose and full, pursed lips, but that was all that he could really see. The thick scarf and heavy knit hat covered the rest of her head entirely, aside from a dark tendril of hair that had escaped its confines to brush across her eyes.

So intent on covertly watching her without her noticing, he barely registered when she turned her head and spoke.

“So, what are you doing out here?”

“I was just driving around to check things out. I had forgotten how quickly it gets dark in the mountains,” Rhys regretfully admitted. “It was still very light out when I left town.”

“You’d forgotten?” she asked suspiciously.

“I grew up in Montana, in the Bitterroot Valley. But it’s been a while since I’ve been here. And then this snow sort of came out of nowhere. Forgot how fast that can happen, too.”

The woman took a deep breath, seemingly tasting his words, rolling them around on her tongue to measure her response. She pursed her lips again and, after a moment, without saying another word, she turned her eyes back to him, assessing him thoughtfully for a moment before looking back at the road.

Her eyes were a very interesting shape, wide and deep. Intriguing, really. Smooth cheeks, as far as he could tell in the dim light of the pickup cab. As she faced him, her small tongue skimmed her lips, instantly making them look… kissable and rather tasty, actually. She looked as though she might actually even be kind of pretty, he thought to himself.

Instantly, Rhys thought back to why he was here. He had to behave himself, to focus on the end prize. Not to perv over this little paradox of femininity. He guessed her to be maybe mid-twenties, although it was hard to tell with the layers of winter gear. He wondered if she knew Shea Madison, if she could help smooth the way, and his mind began to consider different options to charm her.

The girl pulled into a driveway with a small cabin off to the side. It looked older, but well taken care of, appearing to have two stories with divided-light windows and a small front porch. It was nestled in a clearing just outside of the thick of the evergreen forest. Close by was another smaller cabin-like structure that had deeper eaves, with a wide-open doorway, and openings for windows that had never been filled. Just inside the doorway, Rhys could see a heavy ax and an enormous chopping block as the headlights passed over the building. The woman pulled the pickup into a small pole-barn type structure that had been built onto the side.

“Come on…” she said as she pulled up the scarf to again cover her mouth and nose. She threw a large tote bag over her shoulder and hopped out of the truck, holding the door open while Wolfie leapt over the seat and followed close on her heels. Stepping over to the open doorway of the woodshed, she grabbed a few smaller logs from the pile just inside. Rhys followed her lead, loading up a few logs of his own and trailed behind her up the steps. With a nimbleness that was a bit hard to imagine in a stocky little thing like her, she climbed up the snow-covered steps onto the porch, scraping snow off the stairs with her boots to clear the path.

“Be a little careful,” she warned. “These steps are going to be kind of icy. It was fairly warm when it started to snow which makes everything slick as hell.”

With an armful of firewood in one arm and her other hand on the doorknob, she opened the large, heavy door and Rhys followed Wolfie inside the warmth of the small log structure.

A dim lamp cast a faint glow from where it sat on an old-fashioned radio just inside the door. Taking a few more steps inside the room, Rhys looked around at the cabin’s cozy atmosphere. It was not a huge space in square footage, although it seemed larger thanks to the peaked roof and openness of the main room.

Along the far wall was a fireplace of natural rough stone, maybe granite, that was spotted with lichens. It climbed clear up to the ceiling and was encased on either side with windows that looked out into the dark night. The woman crossed over to an oval-shaped tin container off to the side and placed the firewood inside before turning to take the pieces from him as well.

A hot glow of coals peeked through the rather ornate fireplace screen, hinting as to their warmth, calling Rhys to come closer. He heeded their pull, removing his frozen gloves to spread his aching fingers over the radiant heat.

Back by the door, the short woman reached into her pocket for her pickup keys and dropped them into a stoneware dish that rested beside the lamp on the old radio. She pulled her shoulder bag off and tossed it onto a chair tucked in a small alcove beside some large, split-log stairs that rose to a loft. Then she rounded the stairs to head back into the kitchen area, flicking on a light and filling a kettle that she set on the stove.

The soft light glowed from the hood above the stove, making her more of a shadow than allowing him to see her clearly. It did make visible the small kitchen, however, with its warm wood cabinets and dark slate countertops.

After firing up the burner, the girl moved back by the door and started to remove the layers that hid her appearance. Rhys tried not to watch, but was inexplicably fascinated, wondering what this short, stocky, hazel-eyed, feisty angel looked like underneath all her heavy winter garb.

With her back to him, she first removed her heavy wool hat to reveal a tangled mess of coppery-brown locks falling halfway down her back in thick waves. Next, she began to unbutton the heavy coat while she used the toe of one boot to kick off the other. After both boots had been removed and tucked onto the boot dryer, she slid the coat down her shoulders, revealing surprisingly slender arms encased in a soft-looking ivory thermal. She hung the coat on a hook, then unzipped the bib front of her Carhartt snow pants, sliding the shoulder straps down her arms and pushing the heavy garment down her hips to her ankles. She stepped out of the thickly padded garment and reached down to pick it up.

Rhys’ mouth instantly went dry.

He was astounded.

This girl was not stocky and heavyset by any means. That coat and snowpants must have been about three sizes too big and very thickly padded. But now, in the dim light, he could see the lightweight fabric of her shirt curving softly along her slender waist, stretching slightly across what appeared to be rather firm breasts. Her jeans, faded and worn in all the right places, curved over a lusciously round ass, making him almost groan aloud.

She finally turned back to him and walked out of the shadowy entryway into the dim light of the room, towards him.

Think, Rhys… speak… say something.

But his voice was caught in his throat. With a quick, guarded glance up at him, she pulled the screen away from the fireplace and grabbed a few pieces of cut firewood from the bin. Kneeling before the fire, she carefully placed them on the glowing embers. She stoked the fire a bit with an iron poker, leaning forward to blow softly on the coals. The way she was positioned, bent over with her lovely ass in the air, had Rhys painfully erect in nothing flat.

And with each breath, her cheeks filled and her lips created the most perfect little ‘o’ lit by the warm gleam emanating from the coals. The red heat of embers became almost white as she exhaled into the hearth—once, twice, and a third heavy breath of air. A small flame began to lick along the slim pine logs. Waiting a moment to ensure the flame continued, she then looked up at Rhys.

“That should help to warm you up a little,” she said softly, her slightly husky voice shooting straight to his already raging-hard cock. She gave him a shy half smile as she stood and brushed off her hands. “Why don’t you take off your coat and boots. They’re probably doing more harm than good at this point.”

Rhys couldn’t speak.

She was so close to him.

She was so lovely.

He could only nod and stare at the delicate curve of her cheek, the waves of auburn curls glowing in the firelight, the thick lashes surrounding her beautiful eyes, the raised arch of her eyebrow. Wait… why was she arching her brow? And then she cocked her head to the side.

Oh fuck… he was staring.

This was so not what she had planned for tonight. Long hours in Polson all afternoon meeting with her lawyer, Dennis, had left Shea absolutely exhausted. It was quite possible that there was a legitimate claim on her land. Dennis had stated that, if Buddy pursued it and won, not only could he start charging rent, but he could sell it right out from under her. She could lose her home, her haven in the woods.

Dennis had an appointment to meet with Buddy the next day, and this had Shea on pins and needles. Adding fuel to the fire, trying to resolve this issue had taken a lot of time from work, and she was quickly falling behind on her medical transcription quota for the month. With a possible upcoming legal battle, she would need every penny. All the horrid scenarios of what could happen rushed through her head all the way home on the slippery roads. The drive seemed eternal and the weather had steadily grown worse the closer she got to her cabin. Shea felt like she was about to crack.

And now, this fucking jackass who got lost in the woods. She wanted nothing more than to just crawl into a soft, fuzzy blanket on the couch in front of the fire. But that was obviously not on the cards now with this stranger around. Especially with the way he was looking at her.

Granted, he was freakin’ gorgeous. His hair was thick and dark with a little bit of curl. The angle of his cheek down to his jaw was shaded with a slight growth of beard, maybe a day or two. He was broadly built and rather tall. But he was obviously not terribly with it. Maybe a little nuts? Great!  She had brought a loon home with her, way out in the woods, and it was snowing buckets outside. She should call for a tow before things got too weird.

At least she had Wolfie for a little protection. The German Shepard in him was bred for it. The behemoth was lazily sprawled out on his belly near the quickly increasing warmth of the fire, but a quick holler would have him up and alert.

If she could talk, that was. Right now, she felt incapable of speech. A rare flutter of divine tension coursed through her as the man continued to stare at her, and, for a moment, she could only stare back.

Wow… his eyes…

A whistle from the teapot on the stove jolted them both from their stupors, and the man quickly turned towards the door, unbuttoning his thick coat. Shea blew out a deep exhalation and wandered back into the kitchen, grabbing a few teabags and the honey from the counter and reaching into the cupboard to pull out two heavy mugs. The steam rose as she poured the boiling water, watching as it took on the warm amber hue.

As the tea began to steep, she reached for her cordless phone and pressed the button. The lights on the phone flickered on, but no dial-tone emerged. Another click and the same result.

Wonderful!

The heavy snow must have knocked out the line. Too bad Frankie’s Towing Service didn’t email. At least that was something she generally had, so long as the snow didn’t bury her internet satellite dish, and even then she could just sweep it off. But like so many in her small community, Frankie viewed technological advances with a mixture of fear and distain. So, the chances of reaching him in any way at this hour were slim to none. And there was no way she was driving all the way back down that road again tonight, not at the rate the heavy, wet snow was coming down.

So, it looked as though she was going to have company.

Setting the phone back down, she reached for the honey.

“How sweet do you like your tea?” she asked over her shoulder.

“Not really much into tea,” he responded with a gruff, apologetic smile as he pulled off his large, clunky boots.

“Well, you need to get something hot in you, and the honey will help get you comfortable. At least, that’s what my grampa always said.” She waited for a moment before asking again. “So, how sweet?”

“Whatever you think, I guess,” he sighed, padding back over in front of the fire. The slightly defeated tone to his voice made Shea feel a tad bit guilty for being so adamant.

Shea measured out a spoonful of honey into each cup, stirring with little clinks before pulling the teabags out. Walking back over to the fireplace with the mugs, she handed one to him where he sat on the oversized L-shaped couch that faced the hearth.

Her voice softened as she held it out, giving him a small smile. “Even if you just sit here and hold the cup, breathe in the steam, it will help warm you up.”

The man took the mug without really looking at her face, and she covertly assessed him as she backed up to the other section of the couch. The removal of his coat revealed that he had thick musculature across his shoulders and arms. He wore a dark blue plaid flannel shirt and had rolled up the sleeves a bit on his forearms. Dark lashes shielded his eyes from her as he looked down into the cup, blowing onto the hot liquid before taking a sip. “Hmm… this does feel good.”

“So, what’s your name?” she softly queried.

“Rhys,” he spoke with a silky rasp. “Rhys Weland.” He looked up at her, and, even in the dim light of the flickering fire, she could see the deep blue of his eyes. She was a little aghast by the sensual quiver that coursed through her. The directness of his gaze caused her to lower her eyes to her tea.

“Nice to meet you, Rhys Weland,” she murmured. “My name’s Shea… Shea Madison. May as well make yourself comfortable, because the phone is out. So, we’re shit outa luck on a tow truck tonight.”

Chapter 2 ~ The Target

Holy fuck! This was Shea Madison!?

It was all Rhys could do not to spew the hot tea across the room as her words registered. This… this curvy little, hazel-eyed, foul-mouthed angel was Shea Madison? This was his target? His job?

Rhys schooled his features into a contemplative expression, attempting to hide his shock at her revelation and appear only perturbed at the inconvenience of no tow truck.

“I could try on my cell phone,” he said.

Shea smiled over at him and softly chuckled, a sweet, gentle sound that did some funny shit to his insides. “You won’t get a signal almost until you hit town. We’re too far up the gulch for any cell towers to reach. Coverage maps don’t mean shit out here.”

Rhys watched her sit across from him, on the other side of the large L-shaped sofa, quietly sipping her tea. The glow from the firelight danced off her face and sent a gleam of light through her hair. Rhys silently sent a thank you to the heavens for the lovely image before him, so different from the rugged and burly woman he was expecting. Romancing her would be a piece of cake. A young woman, alone.

Hmm… alone? Was she alone?

She had no wedding ring that he could see, but it would probably be a good thing to check.

“So, this is a nice little cabin,” Rhys began. “Have you lived out here long?”

“A few years,” Shea said softly. “Since my grampa died. It was his place.”

“It’s pretty small. I’m guessing you don’t have a very big family. No kids?”

Shea trained her gaze on him, looking at him with a slightly suspicious cast to her eyes and an amused lift to her full lips. “No,” she smiled with a sarcastic tilt. “No kids.” She tipped her head, raising an eyebrow.

Fuck. She knew exactly what he was getting at. He was so off his game, and she wasn’t going to make it easy on him. So he may as well get it over with.

“Anyone else live out here with you? Sibling? Cousin?” Rhys took a quick sip of his tea, quietly murmuring to downplay the next possibility. “Husband?”

Oh yeah, she totally knew. An almost silent chuckle ran through Shea, drawing his eyes to the slight movement of her ample chest outlined so deliciously by the form-fitting thermal shirt.

Who knew a fucking plain old thermal shirt could be so damn sexy?

For a second, he was enthralled with the motion, and damn near groaned aloud. Finally tearing his gaze back up to her face, he instantly felt rather uncomfortable as her eyebrow rose even higher. Great… now she caught him staring at her tits like a lecher. What the fuck was wrong with him? He was usually so much smoother than this.

“No,” she murmured. Her lips curved and her smile widened to showcase lovely straight teeth. “No siblings. No cousins.” She paused, captivating him for a moment with the intensity of her gaze. “No husband,” she finally confirmed. “Just me and Wolfie.”

Rhys was thankful to have something else to focus on, and took the opportunity to look over at the immense, furry canine sprawled out on a huge, thick dog bed that lay on the floor near the fireplace. “Well, with a dog that big, I suppose there’s not really much room for anyone else.”

“No need for anyone else either. I kinda like being alone. That’s why I live way out here. And Wolfie’s a tough shit. Very protective.” Shea turned back to the heap of fur beside the fire, reaching down to scratch the large, furry critter behind the ears. “I got him for my grampa when I moved away. I figured he kinda needed someone to, um, keep away the bears,” she shrugged slightly before looking pointedly back at Rhys, “and other dangerous creatures. The shepherd in him is damn fierce. The malamute gives him even more size… more power. Makes him rather intimidating.”

Rhys nodded slightly, letting her know he fully understood her warning. “Well, that, um… is wise, I guess. Living out here alone.” Something else Shea had said caught his attention. “Wait, when you moved away?”

“I was married once, very young… too young. He was here working for the summer with the Forest Service. I thought I was in love and saw a way to get out of town, so, when he left, I left with him.”

“If you married him to get out of town, how’d you end up back here?”

“It all fell apart pretty quickly. It wasn’t meant to be, I guess.” Shea paused, taking a sip of her tea. “Then my grampa got sick. I came home to be with him. I was only here four days before he went into cardiac arrest in the grocery store. Just like that, he was gone.”

“I’m sorry,” Rhys murmured the expected platitude, slightly surprised at the actual tiny pull on his heart. Since when did he even have a heart? The unwanted thought annoyed him, as did the simple truth that he felt anything at all. He wasn’t supposed to feel, and he again steeled himself to remain distant, cold, calculating.

Shea shrugged. “Then it was like I just couldn’t leave. Like he had brought me back here to find something, to learn something. I don’t know. So, after the divorce was final… I stayed. I sold his house in town.” She looked around the cozy little space. “This was his cabin. It was kind of like my summer camp when I was a kid.”

“Did you spend a lot of time out here when you were younger?”

“Yeah,” she nodded with a faraway expression on her lovely face. “Gram didn’t really like it up here so much. She had her sewing circles and bridge clubs in town. She was much more social than Gramps or I. But he and I practically lived up here during the summers. We liked to be back in the mountains—hiking, fishing.”

“What about your parents?”

Shea paused slightly before answering. “I barely remember them. They died in a car wreck when I was really little. Gram and Gramps were my only real family, so I came to Snowcreek to live with them.”

“So your grandmother’s gone, too?”

“She died not long after I got out of high school, right after I ran off to get married, actually.” Shea turned her gaze back to him, directly looking at him with a slight challenge in her eyes. “So, yes… I’m alone. Just me and Wolfie.”

Rhys was speechless for a moment, captivated by the independent look in her eyes. The tough exterior wrapped around such a small, and quite delicious, little package. He contemplated his next words carefully, wondering just what to say. How to gain her confidence. She was unlike anyone he’d ever met.

All women wanted someone. Even the man-haters really, deep down inside, wanted someone to love. To be loved by someone. They were jaded and angry over past wrongs, but, given the right encouragement and some soft, alluring words, they would come around. The right combination of charisma and his sexy smile, and he’d put it all to the test often enough to know that few women could resist his charm and appeal.

But this one didn’t seem to fall under his spell. Somehow, he had to find a crack in her steeled defense, a way to get inside her mind. It was what he did. The only thing he was ever really, really good at. Finally, he spoke.

“Don’t you ever get lonely?” he asked softly, pasting on a look of genuine concern.

Shea furrowed her brow and looked back at the fire. “Having people around all the time is overrated. It just makes demands of a person that I’m okay doing without. I like solitude. I have friends, a few people I’ve known since high school. Most of them are married with children, but…” she trailed off with a soft chuckle. “My best friend is this crazy kiwi I met my senior year.”

“Kiwi?”

“She’s from New Zealand. Came here as a foreign exchange student. Fell in love. In this rash, romantic gesture, she ran off and got married before she got sent back home. Her parents were horrified, but there wasn’t much they could do at that point. Fortunately, she chose more wisely than I did. Her marriage is still going strong.” Shea laughed quietly. “And, whenever I start feeling the need for a normal life with a family, I go to her place for a bit. Within thirty minutes of watching her kids hanging from the rafters, I remember why I live alone.”

Rhys stared thoughtfully into his mug. She was really different. A bit of a challenge. She wasn’t on the hunt for a man to make her feel complete. She wasn’t falling all over him and giggling incessantly, gazing into his eyes to try and lure him in. It was kind of nice, actually, to just sit and talk to a woman without the underlying concern that she was trying to work a ring out of him. At the same time, this made it a little more difficult for him to get his job done. How do you romance someone who has no desire to be romanced?

Shea yawned heartily, stretching her arms up over her head. For a moment, Rhys’ mouth went dry as we watched the curve of her breast jut out with the arch of her back.

Fuck.

“Well,” she murmured, standing and pulling a heavy quilt from the back of the couch behind her, “there’s a ton of throw pillows, and here’s a nice heavy quilt. You may not need it just yet with the fire blazing high like it is, but it will cool off a bit as it dies down. I’m going to go to bed.”

With those words, as she moved to hand him the blanket, Wolfie’s head rose and he looked dead on at Rhys. Rhys could swear there was a warning in the dog’s eyes. The behemoth animal stood to follow Shea to the stairs, looking back a Rhys to ensure he was staying put.

“If you need anything, holler,” Shea said as she began to climb the stairs. “The loft is open, so I’ll be able to hear you.”

Wolfie watched Shea climb to the upper level, then looked back over at Rhys. After a moment, the enormous dog lay on the thick rug at the base of the stairs, effectively blocking any access to his person.

Smart dog.

Rhys set his cup on a sofa table that ran along the back of the couch and turned back to rest his head on the large, soft pillows. Pillow that smelled fresh and clean, crisp, and ever-so-slightly of… Shea. Funny how he associated the scent with her already.

He gazed into the fire, watching the flames lick and caress the wood, watching the glow of the embers wax and wane. This woman was a bit of an enigma. She was a smart one. She seemed incredibly independent, and happy to keep it that way. So different from anyone he’d ever met.

She’d be one hell of a challenge.

As Rhys closed his eyes, he saw those stunning hazel eyes, those full lips, that long tumble of dark, coppery curls, and, last but not least, that tight little body that made his fingers itch to touch her.

And he smiled.

It had been a long time since he’d felt challenged by a woman. He couldn’t wait.

Chapter 3 ~ The Guest

Shea lay in her bed, unable to sleep, watching the minutes tick by. She wasn’t used to having another person in her house. Knowing Wolfie lay at the bottom of the stairs helped with the security of it, so she wasn’t so much worried about him being a serial killer. Or a rapist. Not that he’d really be interested in a tomboy like her anyway.

The sounds of the night were different, though, having him here.

She could hear the rustle of blankets as he shifted, and her mind pictured him lying down on the couch, that large, rugged build sprawled out in the warm glow of the fire. She wondered for a moment if he was still fully clothed or if he had removed some clothing to get more comfortable.

Her breath caught at the mental picture of him with his chest bare. She had noticed a light sprinkling of hair at the opening of his soft flannel shirt, and she closed her eyes to clarify the image in her mind. His chest was broad, appeared thick with firm pectorals and strong arms. His waist tapered down to slim hips, and, seriously, the man had a fine ass in those jeans he was wearing. Not to mention those strong thighs. His height and build made her feel totally dainty and… actually kind of girly.

Shea hadn’t felt girly in years. She hadn’t wanted to. She still didn’t want to.

A little time passed, and she heard his soft, heavy breathing. Not quite a snore, but what sounded like a deep sleep. Her mind wandered again to imagine his expression softened with sleep. The way he had looked at her earlier was imprinted in her psyche, the heated attraction in his hooded eyes. It had set a fire in her belly, a fierce burn that began to bloom into a deep ache. Lying on her back in her bed, her fingers ran down her waist, caressing the soft flannel of her nightshirt as it rode up in the warm bed. Down to her hip, her fingertips grazed the line of her panties.

She closed her eyes and once again saw the deep blue of his. There had been desire there, she was sure of it. She read it easily on his expression.

Her fingers dipped inside the silky fabric, lightly brushing against the sensitive mound of flesh, then down to the dampness that pooled low in her belly.

This was crazy. He was right there, without so much as a wall between them. She shouldn’t be doing this.

But her fingers began to move of their own volition through wet arousal, to tease her clit lightly, moving more firmly as the ache began to spread. Her muscles began to tighten and heat began to pulse through her.

His eyes…

How would it feel if he kissed her? What expression would light his eyes when he pulled away?

Shea’s tongue darted out to lick her lips as she imagined his kiss… firm, crushing.

The first flutters of her orgasm began to crest, she heard a shift in the blankets below, and froze. Afraid to breath with her heart pounding.

Oh, God. What was she doing?

A moment later, the steady, deep breathing sound of sleep resumed. Knowing it was wrong, knowing the last thing she should do was continue but completely unable to stop herself, her hand shamefully began to move again.

Her fingers swept through her wet core, firmly massaging the tightness, rubbing against the building need. In her mind, it was his tongue, swiping through her, tasting her. A faint gasp emanated from her throat as she drew the wetness to her clit and began to trace small circles around sensitive little bud. She pinched lightly and then pressed harder as she thought of his large strong hands, his powerful arms, his broad chest.

Struggling to stay quiet, her breath grew choppy, her muscles tensed. She could feel the pressure building, she was so close to the heavenly escape. And then, her orgasm blasted through her. She was completely unable to keep a small moan from escaping as she fought to quiet her labored breathing.

As she floated back down to earth, she became rather mortified by what she had just done. It was one thing to do this in private, but to get herself off with him only separated by about twenty feet, and thinking about him, too. She was insane.

Oh, sweet Jesus… she hoped he had actually been sleeping, that he had slept through it. In the quiet of the night, the sounds could have carried. Hopefully, the light snore she heard from below was an indicator that he hadn’t heard her. That he was far away in dreamland.

Shea’s stomach growled slightly. Damn… she hadn’t eaten dinner. Leaving town late, she’d planned to heat some leftovers, but, with all the disarray of finding Rhys in the snow, she had forgotten to eat. But, in spite of that, she didn’t want to go down there, where he was. Shea rolled to her side, trying to fade off to sleep, however, the hunger pains were soon too much to bear.

Fuck it. She had to get something to eat.

Quietly, she padded down the heavy log stairs. Wolfie raised his head as she passed, watchful as always. Shea slipped quietly into the kitchen, using the low light above the stove to find a container of huckleberry muffins. The sound of the container opening and the waft of the muffiny aroma drew Wolfie closer. For a moment, Shea froze at the tapping of his toenails crossing the wood floor of the kitchen. She held her breath, listening for a moment, relaxing a bit as she heard the deep breathing coming from the couch.

Dropping a bit of muffin on the floor for Wolfie, she reached into the cupboard to pull out a small glass, then crossed to the refrigerator to pour some milk. The light from the fridge cast her shadow into the living room. A rustle of the heavy quilt, and Rhys’ head appeared over the back of the couch looking at her in the kitchen.

Shit!

Closing the fridge, Shea murmured, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up. I’ll be done in a minute, and you can go back to sleep.”

“It’s okay,” he mumbled sleepily. “I’ve actually been awake for a little bit. Having a hard time sleeping.”

Oh shit… had he heard her?

“I, um… forgot to eat dinner, and I was starving,” she quietly stammered. “Are you hungry at all?”

“Fine, thanks. I ate a big old gutbuster at the steakhouse before I headed out of town.”

Shea grabbed her muffin and milk and walked into the light of the fireplace to sit on the opposite end of the couch. She tucked her legs beneath her in the flannel of the voluminous knee-length nightshirt. As she took a bite of her muffin and looked over at him… and gaped.

Rhys had removed his shirt, she realized with a heavy swallow, fighting to get the bit of muffin down her throat. And he really was incredibly fucking gorgeous.

The blanket she had given him was low on his hips, showcasing a fine display of muscles before her. A shadowing of dark hair seemed to enhance the tight cut of his pecs and abs. His heavy, strong arm lay along his side, his hand lying on his hip.

For a moment, Shea froze. Unable to swallow. Unable to breath. Her mind flitted back to what she had been doing, what he may have quite possibly heard her doing, up in her loft bed only a short time before, thinking of his bare chest. Her imagination, as good as it was, hadn’t done him justice.

The pull was so strong, the desire to run her fingers across his skin, through the coarse hair and over the defined muscles. Both her and Gavin, her short-term husband, had been fairly young when they had married, and he was in no way near the masculine specimen she saw before her. Thin and wiry, he’d been the only man she’d ever been with. Their love life had been one of learning, trial and mostly error, and short-lived at that.

Shea had read trashy romance novels and dreamed occasionally of a large Superman-like figure to rush in and ravish her, but this was the first time she had ever felt a tug like this—this strong—to a real life, hot-blooded man. The ache she had alleviated earlier returned with a vengeance. A throbbing, fiery need that coursed throughout her body causing her to physically squirm at the sensation.

Of their own accord, her eyes traveled down his waist, seeing a glimpse of denim peeking above the blanket that had settled at his hips. Oh, thank God. He was still wearing his jeans. As much as he was affecting her, she didn’t think she could trust herself had he removed them. As it was, she was fighting the urge to straddle him and scatter kisses across his chest, to feel his powerful body between her thighs.

Tearing her hungry eyes away, she looked down into her glass of milk, taking a sip. The quiet in the room seemed a bit painful, and she could barely stand it. She turned her attention to Wolfie, who had come to sit before her, and fed him a few more bites of muffin. She hadn’t eaten much, but her stomach wasn’t growling anymore and, quite honestly, she wasn’t sure if she could swallow anything solid. She’d be safer to stick with the milk at this point.

A motion from Rhys drew her eyes back over to him, and she watched as he scrubbed his face with his hands, clearing the sleep from his eyes. In the low firelight, she was hypnotized by the play of his powerful muscles as he moved.

Needing to direct her attention somewhere else and doing everything in her power to keep her voice from shaking, Shea asked, “So, how long are you in town for?”

Rhys lifted his gaze to hers as he stretched slightly on the couch, rolling to his side and leaning his head on his elbow. “About a week… maybe two. Not sure, really…”

Shea finished her milk, setting the glass on the table at the end of the couch. She stood to grab a piece of firewood, placing it in the fire. “Well, you picked a beautiful, if not a little bit complicated, time of year for a visit. We tend to get a big dump of snow about this time.” She reached for the poker, moving the logs around a little to encourage the new wood to catch the flame.

“Yeah… it’s been a while since I’ve been in the mountains and out of the city. I sort of figured it would be like riding a bike, but it’s easy to forget things… like how quickly it gets dark.”

“The mountains are beautifully dangerous…” Shea murmured softly. “Where are you from?”

“I grew up here in Montana, actually. Near Frenchtown. My dad still lives there. I went off to college in Indiana, and I loved the big city. It was so different from what I was used to.”

“Do you come back very often?”

“Not really. I’m usually pretty busy with work. Every couple years, I suppose. To see my dad, listen to him complain about my lack of stability since I don’t have a wife and kids like my older brother.”

“It can be hard when you don’t fit the mold,” Shea said distantly. “I always tried, but I guess I never exactly knew what mold was supposed to fit me.” Suddenly, Shea felt vulnerable, as though she had let something slip. Something about herself that she’d rather keep hidden. “Well, the tryptophan in my milk is kicking in, making me a little drowsy, so I’m going to try and get some sleep.” She rose and headed back towards the stairs to the loft, Wolfie again at her heels. “Goodnight…” she murmured.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” Rhys said back, and the husky sound of his endearment registered in her brain, shooting a shiver of wanting through her body. She looked back at him, guarded and almost fearful, before she finally escaped up the stairs to the safety of her bed.

As usual, Shea woke early, well before it was light. She quickly dressed in her faded jeans and a thick sweater on over the top. Wolfie waited for her at the bottom of the stairs, her sentry in the night, ready to go outside to explore. At the doorway, Shea slipped on her heavy snow boots, warm from the boot dryer, a pair of gloves, and her heavy Carhartt coat. Then she headed outside.

The heavy snowfall from the night before had the woods around her cabin blanketed in a deep frosting of drifts. Very little wind blew in her little gulch, although up higher at the top of the ridge, the hollow sound of the breeze blowing through the trees could be heard. The sun shone brightly down, dancing off the crystals of snow with a nearly blinding brilliance. Shea reached in the pocket of her coat for her sunglasses, simple aviator style, and grabbed the snow shovel beside the front door. Time to get to work.

Beginning with the stairs, she shoveled a path to the driveway that lay buried beneath the coldness of winter. Funny how, after a heavy snowfall, the emergence of bright sunlight made it seem even colder. Gramps used to say it was something about the clouds keeping in the heat of the earth, and, when they disappeared, it was like a protective blanket had been lifted to let in the chill.

Wolfie, in all his sled-dog ancestry, loved the snow and barked with excitement as she pitched a shovelful, leaping to try and catch some.

“Shhh… you crazy dog. You’re going to wake our guest,” Shea scolded and resumed shoveling, pushing instead of throwing the snow in what she hoped was a boring manner that her canine companion would quickly tire of. It worked, and he wandered off, sniffing out animals that had visited in the night, running along the edges of the yard and around the driveway to mark his territory.

After shoveling for what seemed like forever, Shea had a path cleared from the house down to the woodshed and alongside the lean-to that kept the snow off her truck. She set the shovel aside and reached for a few medium-sized logs on the woodpile inside the shed, heading back into the cabin to build the fire back up.

As she entered the cabin, Shea steadfastly avoided looking at where Rhys lay sleeping. All night she had seen him every time she closed her eyes, knowing he was so close. She had finally dozed off so very late, and only then from sheer exhaustion.

She placed the pile of wood on the hearth beside the fireplace, grabbing a few split pieces with their jagged edges to rekindle the flame. She set them on the coals and, with a few heavy puffs of air, the flames began slowing licking up the logs to warm the room.

Unable to delay it any longer, almost feeling his eyes on her, she finally turned around. And there was Rhys, lying on the couch, watching her. Still bare-chested in the early morning light, the quilt tucked around his waist.

Damn.

“Good morning,” Shea said softly. “I’m sorry that I woke you. It’s next to impossible to be quiet with a load of firewood.”

“No problem. I should probably get up anyway, see if the phone is working. If nothing else, maybe I could get a ride into town so I’m not inconveniencing you even more than I already have.” He spoke softly, considerately.

“You’re not so bad. I was a little tired and grouchy last night, and I probably shouldn’t have taken it out on you,” Shea conceded. “Let me check the phone, though. Heavy snow tends to trigger the utility companies to check things out, and they get on it pretty quick when they know a line is down.” She rose, placing the remaining chunks of wood in the tub to the side of the fireplace, and removed her gloves as she walked into the kitchen area.

When she hit the button this time, there was a dial-tone, so Shea quickly grabbed a phone book to look up the number for Frankie’s Towing Service. Frankie was an odd guy that she’d known since high school and the only tow truck in town.

“I’ve got a dial-tone,” she told Rhys as she dialed. “I should be able to get through.”

“Hullo,” the voice on the other end said.

“Hey, Frankie? This is Shea.”

“Hey.” She could almost see his goofy smile as though he was standing right in front of her. “What’s up?”

“Well, I came across a car stuck in the snow last night,” Shea explained. “I brought the guy home to call, but then the phones were out.”

“Shit, Shea. You should have brought him to town. Are you okay?”

“Fine, Frankie. Geez… But he’s still here and needs someone to pull his car out.”

At that moment, Shea turned to the living room and gasped loudly at the sight that greeted her—Rhys, standing in front of the fireplace while he shrugged on his shirt. His bare chest was mouthwatering, and his pants were unbuttoned to allow him to tuck the shirt in once it was on. Feeling her eyes on him, he looked up at her as he pulled the shirt on, and her face flamed.

“Well, shit, Shea,” Frankie was saying on the other end of the line, “I’ll get out there as fast as I can, okay?”

“Uh, huh…” Shea mumbled.

“Shea?” Frankie barked. “Are you okay?”

Shaking her head to clear the stupor that had overtaken her, Shea turned her back to Rhys. “Um, yeah… fine. Sorry. Okay, see you in a bit.”

Shea set the cordless phone back on the charger, taking a slow deep breath to regain her composure. Good God, she had thought he was beautiful in the firelight, almost expecting him to turn into an ogre by the light of day. But no… he was no ogre. He was probably the most mouthwatering man she’d ever met.

Stop it, Shea! she berated herself. It would just end eventually, like everything else, and she would be better off not even going there. With an angry determination, she looked back at him again.

“So, I’m going to make some coffee, and there’s some muffins in that container by the stove. Help yourself.”

Rhys walked into the kitchen, grabbing a muffin and taking a bite, watching her while he chewed. Shea felt clumsy and uncoordinated as she poured the coffee beans into the grinder, almost spilling them all over the counter. Rhys looked as though he was about to say something, and she immediately clicked the button, the loud chopping sounds of the beans effectively stalling any further conversation. As she finished putting everything where it needed to be to brew the coffee, she noted that he was still looking at her, a slight smile on his lips while he chewed large bites of muffin.

“Are you okay?” he asked, cocking his head slightly. “You look, um… kinda pissed off all of a sudden.”

Probably best if he thought she was a total bitch, Shea thought to herself.

“I just… I’m not used to having company. Like I said before, I like my solitude.”

Shea watched as he took another bite, licking his lips to catch a crumb of muffin that was straying. The sight of his tongue sent a shiver through her, and once again, her mind drifted back to last night, alone in her bed, thinking of him. She felt the heat rise up her face, and saw his knowing smile widen.

Okay, that’s enough.

“I need to go chop some more firewood. Frankie should be here in a half-hour or so,” she muttered as she grabbed her gloves and headed back out the door.

Shea was piling some more wood into the bin by the fireplace when a honk sounded from the driveway and the heavy tow truck pulled up in front of the house. Wolfie immediately paced to the window to check it out, followed by Shea.

“Well, Frankie’s here,” Shea told Rhys as he leaned against the counter drinking some coffee. “He’ll take you back to your car and get it all unstuck for you. You should probably avoid any more snowy mountain roads in that little thing, though.”

Rhys laughed as he set down his cup. Walking to the door, he shrugged into his coat and pulled on his boots. “Yeah, no worries there. My first order of business is to go directly back to the rental place and get a big ol’ four-wheel-drive. I grew up in this shit. I knew better.”

Shea walked over to open the door for him, relieved, yet strangely almost disappointed, that he was finally leaving. As he zipped up the parka, he stepped up to where she stood by the door. “By the way, thanks. I’d have probably been a popsicle by now if you hadn’t come along.”

Shea smiled up at him, genuinely, but a bit reserved, as she swung the door wide. “No biggie. I’m just glad I was there to help... I guess.”

As Rhys went to take a step out, his hand landed at the curve of her waist and he paused, looking down at her. His eyes captivated her, the blue reflecting in the sunlight pouring in through the open door. The bristle of his unshaved jaw lent a rugged, sexy air to his appearance. This was really the closest she’d been to him, and his thick build completely dwarfed her.

“No, really. Thank you,” he repeated with a husky lilt to his voice.

Shea’s breath caught in her throat. Her eyes blinked in an attempt to pull her from the reverie, but to no avail. Her skin burned where his fingers lay on her. His heavy-lidded gaze trapped her, stopped her heart. A slight tilt of his head, and his lips began to lower to hers.

“What are you doing?” she whispered, frozen in place.

“I’m not sure,” he murmured back before he gently touched his lips to hers. Warm and firm, pressed tightly against her, his hand at her waist holding her steady. Shea’s eyes drifted closed, and a slight gaspy moan lit from her throat as she felt the light brush of his tongue against her lips. Instinctively, her mouth parted to allow him in. A thrill zipped through her as his hand cupped her cheek, holding her steady while his tongue swept across the straight edge of her teeth.

Shea subconsciously unfurled with the sweetness of the kiss. Sensations she’d never experienced, didn’t know she was capable of, tumbled through her, twisted her reality until she was only aware of him. Of his lips firmly pressed against hers. His height towering over her. The brush of his fingers in her hair.

All too soon, with too little movement, he lifted his head and gazed down at her. Unconsciously, her tongue darted out to taste the last vestiges of his kiss, and her lips pressed together to savor the warm coffee taste he had left behind. Shea fluttered open her eyes to look up at him.

“Damn…” he murmured, so close to her yet that his breath caressed her lips, still tingling from his kiss.

A sharp bark from Wolfie jolted Shea out of her daze, and she backed up until she was pressed against the railing of the heavy log stairs.

“Don’t… don’t do that again, okay?” she whispered breathlessly. “That’s… bad. Can’t do that.”

Rhys looked down at his feet for a second before nodding. He lifted a conflicted gaze to hers once more, and then he turned and walked out of the cabin. “Bye, sweetheart,” he said quietly before he shut the door behind him.

Shea could hear the crunch of his boots as he walked down the porch steps. She could hear Frankie introduce himself and Rhys tell him about how far away he thought his car was. Wolfie watched out the window until the men drove away, and then he went to lie down on his big doggie bed near the fireplace.

Shea remained frozen, shocked at the kiss. She hadn’t been that close to a man in years. She hadn’t so much as held a man’s hand, rarely even danced in the bar. She had steered so far away from all that, focusing instead on her home and her independence.

She needed to steer clear of this guy. At least, he wouldn’t be around long. The man completely tickled her senses, and that was the last thing she wanted to deal with…ever.

Chapter 4 ~ The Store

Shea meandered through the little Snowcreek Mercantile trying to remember what she had initially gone there for. Let’s see… She needed milk, beans for the chili, stewed tomatoes. Hmmm…  Cayanne? No, that wasn’t it. She had that. Butter? No…  Guh! Why hadn’t she made a list?

Typical of many stores in small Montana towns, the mercantile was a historic building, surviving the gold-mining days of the Old West. It had creaky wooden floors and high, tin ceilings, narrow shelves and no bar code scanners in sight.

A jingle at the door made Shea look up to see Trinity, gossip monger of the town, rushing in on a mission. Straight to the counter she went with a squeal.

“Oh my goodness, Laura,” she gushed at the cashier. “You should totally see the guy that just showed up at Mac’s Café. He is stunning!”

“Oh, heavens, Trinity,” the older, heavyset cashier huffed. “You think every guy is stunning.”

“No, he is really… Oh my God!  He’s amazing! He’s tall and built and has the most amazing blue eyes…”

The image of Shea’s recent experience with tall and built with amazing blue eyes floated through her mind. Rhys. Trinity had to be talking about Rhys. And, yes, he was stunning. Just thinking of the man had her breathless all over again with the memories of that tender kiss he’d laid upon her as he walked out her door earlier that morning.

No… not thinking about him. Bad… bad Shea…

“I’m telling you, Laura, I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone like him before. He was just finishing up with his lunch. I wonder if he’s staying for a while.”

Ah… cumin. That’s what she was forgetting. She was planning to make a big pot of chili since the snowy weather had her wanting to hibernate a bit, and chili just wasn’t chili without cumin. Shea made her way to the spices and grabbed a small jar, then walked up to the front counter where the flushed and excited young Trinity was still gushing over the new blood in town.

“Oh. My. God. Shea, you have to see this guy! Even you, who never dates, who never shows the slightest interest in any man,” Trinity blabbered out, “even you who I am starting to think is a lez, you’d even like this guy!”

Shea, scrunched her eyebrow at the younger, hyperexcitable airhead before her. “Gee, thanks, Trinity…”

“Really, Shea, you’d just go all ga-ga over him. I just know it!”

“Jeez, it’s like you’ve never seen a man before,” Shea muttered.

“Oh, but he’s not just a man. He’s, like, a God. Apparently, he got stuck in the snow and Frankie had to pull him out,” Trinity breathed. Then her eyes narrowed at Shea. “Oh my gosh… up near your place, Shea.” Trinity’s eyes grew wide. “Have you met him? Have you seen this guy? Was he at your house?”

“Of course not,” Shea blustered. “Pfffft… what the hell? Don’t even start…”

“But, Shea. He’s just… and your place… and he didn’t stay at the hotel last night and—”

“Don’t be ridiculous. That’s insane. Really…”

Suddenly, Trinity’s mouth seemed to hit the floor as she looked at the tall glass entrance to the store.

“Holy shit,” she whispered. “He’s coming in here.”

Shit! Shea didn’t want to run into him. And she definitely didn’t want anyone else to know that she actually had already run into him. Especially Trinity. That girl had a mouth on her, and it would be all over town before she knew it. The last thing she needed was anyone knowing that she’d sat with him by the fireplace in the dark of the night. That he’d kissed her sweetly before he left. That he’d totally made her feel things that she’d never felt, much less wanted to feel.

Dammit! Dammit! Dammit!

Shea ducked her head with back to the door, trying to be unobtrusive, hoping that she could maybe pay and squeak out of the store while he was perusing the aisles for whatever he came in there to find.

The bell at the door jingled again, and all three women were instantly quiet as mice. Shea’s heart began to pound, and she felt sweat bead on her forehead underneath her heavy wool hat. Trying to appear as nonchalant as humanly possible, she mechanically took the items out of her small basket and set them on the counter before Laura who began to pick them up one by one to ring them into the till. Holding a can of tomatoes as she glanced over to the door, Laura froze. Like a freakin’ statue. Like a God-damned pillar of salt.

At first Shea acted as though she didn’t notice Laura’s paralyzed state. Give her a minute… Really, how long would Laura stand there, mouth gaping, the damn tomatoes clenched in her ruddy fingers?

Then Shea contemplated chili without tomatoes. And cumin. And beans. And cereal without the milk she had in the basket. And…

Fuck! Maybe she should just leave.

The way Laura and Trinity were zombified by the entrance of Rhys—because it simply had to be Rhys—they probably wouldn’t even realize she had gone. Maybe she could just dig some old soup out of the freezer or something. Come back tomorrow.

Shea heard footsteps crossing the creaky old hardwood floor of the mercantile. Closer they came until they were only a foot or so away.

“Um…” she whispered quietly to nobody in particular, “forgot something.”

She turned to dart down one of the aisles, running into a shelf and knocking down a display of Peanut Butter PopTarts. Boxes hit the floor.

Kill me now, Shea silently pleaded.

“Here,” she heard Rhys say, “let me help you with those.” And his deep, sexy voice set her insides all aquiver.

“Um, thanks…” Shea mumbled almost incoherently, her head ducked low.

Feeling his eyes on her, boring into her, sending her into a dither, she attempted to set some of the boxes on the shelf without really looking. Oh, God. Please don’t realize it’s me. Please don’t say anything about knowing me.

“Shea?”

Fuck!  With a heavy sigh, she lifted her eyes up to him. “Hey…”

Rhys smiled, causing Shea’s heart to skip a beat. Or two. Or ten.

Laura gaped even more.

Trinity appeared torn between sheer jealousy and abject glee about the juicy gossip being played out right before her very eyes.

“Funny running into you here,” Rhys cocked his head. “And very nice to see you again.”

“Not really so funny. It’s a small town, Rhys.” Shea forced her gaze from those striking blue eyes of his to look back over at Laura. “So, um… you about done there, Laura?”

Laura continued to gape. Frozen. Solid. She looked a bit like a cartoon character with her eyes bugged out and her mouth hanging open.

Trinity seemed to break loose from her own little trance, looking up at Rhys.

“So,” she looked back over to Shea for a moment, rather pointedly, before continuing. “Rhys, huh?”

Rhys flicked his attention to Trinity for a moment, looking slightly confused. “Yeah, and you are?”

As though stunned by his direct attention, Trinity paused and then shook her head a little before continuing. “I’m Trinity. It is, really, so nice to meet you.”

And there it was, Trinity’s dazzling bright white smile with her classic all-American girl looks and big brown eyes. She was such a pretty girl, and she’d have Rhys eating out of her hand in seconds. Probably best, because Shea really did not need any type of entanglements. Taking advantage of what was bound to be a long, flirty discussion, Shea looked back to Laura, waving her hand in front of her to break her of her apparent hypnotization.

But, in spite of the wiles that Trinity bestowed upon him, Rhys simply smiled and said, “Nice to meet you.” Then he focused back on Shea.

“So, Shea… I’d like to thank you. You know, for last night.”

Trinity’s eyes about popped right out of her head.

Laura wheezed.

“No, no…” Shea began. “It was nothing, you know. Just helping to get you a tow.” Oh God, don’t say anymore.

“Yeah, but to bring me back to your place. And then, the phone was out and we couldn’t call…” he smiled and arched his eyebrow at her. “To let a complete stranger spend the night? Not many women would feel comfortable with that. Not many women would have kept me, um, such good company.”

A squeak erupted from Trinity’s wide-open mouth.

Laura dropped the can of tomatoes and it slowly rolled across the creaky wood floor.

Suddenly, Shea realized that Rhys was totally aware of her discomfort. That he was enjoying her discomfort. That he was intentionally causing her discomfort.

“What the hell? Don’t make it sound like that.” She looked over to their small audience. “It wasn’t anything like that.”

“Um… oooookay…” Trinity smiled.

“Trinity… really…” Shea explained. “I found him stuck in snow bank. I couldn’t just leave him there!”

“Oh, of course not,” Trinity said with an exaggerated innocence. “So, you, um… you took him home with you. That’s so… huh.” Looking down at her bare wrist, Trinity exclaimed, “Oh, my. Look at the time. I’m late for a hair appointment. Toodles.” And in a flurry of bouncy hair and flouncy scarf, she was gone.

Now Shea was speechless. Breathless. Pissed!  She rounded back to Rhys. “You son-of-bitch! You have no idea what you’ve just done. You have no idea what kind of mouth that girl has. Oh my God! Everyone is going to think we’ve slept together.” She glared back over to Laura. “Laura, if you ever decide to move again and want to finish ringing up my groceries, I’ll be back to pick them up tomorrow.”

With her own not-quite-so bouncy, flouncy exit, Shea made a beeline for the door. Halfway to her truck, she realized Rhys was following her.

“What?” she whirled around and huffed at him.

Rhys cocked his eyebrow and smiled widely, folding his arms over his broad, muscular chest. “Go to dinner with me.”

Shea was pretty sure her brain was going to explode. Her mouth moved, but nothing came out as she shook her head back and forth in disbelief. “Are you out of your fucking mind? No!”

His smile only widened. “Is something wrong?” he grinned mischievously.

“Yes! My God! You don’t even know me!  I met you less than twenty-four hours ago, and you may not realize it, but you have just sacrificed me to the Snowcreek gossip mill! Shit! And she’s going to get her hair done.” Shea’s voice rose and hit a higher pitch with every breath. “And do you know what they’re going to be talking about? You! You and me!”

“Huh, I’m guessing you’re a little perturbed with me.”

“Ya think?” Shea scoffed.

Rhys stepped a little closer, backing her up against her pickup. His body was all but pressed up against hers, stealing her breath away with the sudden movement.

“I know you a little better than that, sweetheart. I know how delicious your kiss can be. Remember?” His whisper hypnotized her for a moment, all her fight fled and left her defenseless as she remembered the soft brush of his tongue. Rhys caged her in with an arm on either side of her and he dipped his lips to hers. He was so close, and Shea began to tremble with want as her eyes drifted closed. Just before his lips touched hers, he murmured softly. “So, is that a, um… no for dinner?”

Her eyes flew open to see him grinning wickedly down at her. “Argh!” Shea pushed angrily at his chest, using every ounce of strength she had to shove him back. My God! She had to get away from this man before she lost her ever-loving mind. Quickly, she jumped in her truck, fired it up, and drove away, fishtailing out of her parking space as she hit the gas.

In her rearview mirror, she could see Rhys smiling. And waving.

Son-of-a-bitch.

Chapter 5 ~ The BFF

Shea took deep breaths and counted to ten about fifty times on her way to Michelle’s, knowing her best friend would immediately notice her unchecked frustration.

That man was so aggravating.

Pulling down onto the driveway that dipped low off the side of the road, Shea pulled her truck to a stop and hopped out, walking up to the front door. Shea had known Michelle since her senior year of high school when the crazy kiwi had shown up in their small town as a foreign exchange student. Shea and her had become instant friends, neither of them quite fitting the mold of perfection in the small cliquish school. Shea had dreaded the day when Michelle would leave, heading home to New Zealand. So had Michelle, even more so when she met Robert and fell hard.

By the end of the school year, though, Michelle had turned eighteen, and before her parents could say ‘boo’ about it, her and Robert eloped. Shea had been utterly shocked, but also thrilled that her friend would be staying close. Two years later, they had their first kid, a boy named Sam. Then came Jenna two years later, followed by Joey three years after that.

Michelle’s family had sort of become Shea’s family. After her own disastrous marriage, Shea had returned to Snowcreek about a year after Sam was born. Her ego had been shattered by Gavin. So quickly after she had eloped with him, he had changed somehow, as though he bitterly resented her for saying ‘yes.’ And then it all made more sense when Shea had learned about her. Gavin’s ex-girlfriend—the one that got away—was back in town. Shea’s strength and determination were challenged by this old flame. She was a fighter, though. She wasn’t going down easy.

But as her grampa’s health had started to rapidly decline, all the fight in her suddenly fled, and she rushed back to Snowcreek to be with him. She found herself all-too-quickly mourning the loss of the only family she truly had left. Divorce papers arrived the day after his funeral, Gavin’s clear communication that he was done.

After a little while of consoling and supporting, Michelle, who was never one to mope around and mince words, had told her to ‘take a fucking concrete pill and harden the fuck up’ because nobody had it easy. She made sure Shea was never alone for holidays, and Shea became a bit of a foster aunt to Michelle’s kids. The cool kind of aunt who shows up with candy and presents, spoiling the kids rotten, but then leaves when the sugar rush hits its peak.

That said, Michelle’s kids were just as crazy as Michelle—best birth control ever.

Shea knocked at the front door before opening it anyway and walking right in. The first thing she was confronted with was eight-year-old Sam dressed up like Darth Vader.

“Hey, Darth,” Shea said as though it was perfectly normal to be speaking to the Sith lord. “Where’s your mom at?”

“Kitchen,” the kid growled with a fierce little voice, followed by a hooooo perrrr.

“Gotcha,” she replied. The kid turned to stalk down the hallway when Shea called out, “Oh, by the way, be careful, because I think I saw Obi-Wan looking for you.”

The kid froze, lifted his light saber, and quickly barreled down the hallway towards his room.

“Michelle,” Shea whined as she made her way into the kitchen. “Oh my God, this morning… it’s been sheer hell.”

“Awe, what’s up, buddy?” Michelle smiled over at her from the pot of soup she was cooking on the stove.

Shea took a deep breath, wondering where to start. “Well, there’s this guy—”

“Shut the front door! You met someone?” Michelle squealed. She dropped the lid onto the pot and turned to Shea in shock.

“It’s not like that,” Shea argued, shaking her head vehemently. “I mean, really… it is soooooooo not like that.” She slumped down in one of the kitchen chairs. “So, I was meeting with Dennis in Polson last night to talk about that fucked up claim on my grampa’s land.”

“Oh my gosh,” Michelle crooned sympathetically. “No wonder you’re so upset if it has to do with that.”

“Actually, it doesn’t really have to do with that either. I was almost home, only like a mile away from my house, and I found this guy stranded in a ditch on the side of the road.”

“Oh, you poor dear. Did you have to bring him all the way back into town? God, you must be just exhausted. You should be home sleeping.” Suddenly, Michelle’s expression showed a shocked concern. “Oh, no… Shea, tell me you didn’t try and pull him out and into a tree like that last guy?”

“I didn’t try and pull him out. I’ve learned my lesson there. But I didn’t take him back to town either,” Shea grumbled her admission, then rushed on with Michelle’s raised eyebrow. “I was almost home. I just figured I’d call Frankie to come help him. But…” Her voice trailed off.

“But, what?”

“Well, the phones were out. The snow was deep and wet. It was icy, and I was so fucking tired. I sure as hell didn’t want to drive through all that again. So… he slept on my couch.”

“Oh. My. God. You had a guy spend the night?” Michelle’s eyes were wide as saucers and she plopped down in a kitchen chair.

“Michelle, he slept on my couch,” Shea repeated.

“Uh, huh… and where did you sleep? Hmmm?””

“You bitch,” Shea snorted with a laugh. “I slept in my bed… alone, thank you very much. Then, this morning, the phone lines were fixed, I called Frankie, and he left.”

“But?” Michelle waved her hand around in a please-continue circle.

“But what?”

“Shea, I’ve known you for ten years. You’re leaving something out. And, besides, why would that have you so frazzled?”

Here goes, Shea thought to herself.

“I was in the store this morning, and he came in there. And, right in front of Trinity and Laura, he said something about me entertaining him all night. Fuck, he made it sound like he slept with me. And, of course, Trinity took it and ran. And, Rhys… he thought it was funny. I was so pissed, but he just laughed and asked me out to dinner.”

“Is he hot?” Michelle asked, resting her chin in her hand and looking eager for more information about this mystery man.

“Michelle…” Shea sighed. “That’s totally not th—”

Michelle smiled. “He is, isn’t he?”

“He’s infuriating,” Shea squealed.

Michelle pursed her lips and studied Shea closely. “Hmmm…” she murmured.

“Really, Michelle,” Shea tried again. “It’s totally not what you’re thinking. He’s only here for a week or two, and, even if he was staying, I don’t want to date. I don’t want any of that shit. Anyway, there’s too much going on with this damn bullshit land claim and the whole developer ski mountain. I don’t have time for anything like that.”

Hearing a truck pull up before the big garage on the side of the house, Michelle stood and looked out the kitchen window. “That’s odd. Robert’s home early.” Her features scrunched up even more, looking trying to see through the steamed up window out into the cold, crisp day. “Well, who’s that, I wonder?”

Shea stood to look out the window with Michelle, but the men had already entered the garage. She only saw the closing door. Then heard a clumping of heavy boots and they made their way up the short staircase that led directly to a doorway entering the kitchen.

“Hey, babe,” Robert smiled at his wife as he walked in and kissed her cheek. “I’d like to introduce you to someone who will be working with our office in the next couple weeks. I was showing him around town a little, introducing him to some of the folks around here. Rhys, this is my wife, Michelle. Michelle, this is Rhys Weland.”

Oh God. She couldn’t escape this guy.

And he was smiling at her, grinning from ear to ear.

Fucking gorgeous smile. And that pissed her off all over again.

“Nice to meet you, Michelle,” Rhys smiled with a nod at Michelle. Then he turned to Shea who looked positively nauseous… and pissed. Even more pissed than when he had outed her in the little grocery store. “Well, hi, sweetheart,” he smiled as he leaned up against the kitchen counter, one leg crossed over the other and his arms crossed against his chest. “Fancy seeing you again so soon.”

“Rhys,” she scowled at him.

Oh yeah, she was pissed, alright.

Michelle looked back and forth between the two, and it was like a metaphorical light bulb exploded in her head. “Rhys, it’s, um… very nice to meet you also.” Looking over at Shea, and without a subtle bone in her body, Michelle’s eyes went wide as she mouthed an Oh my God.

Shea looked as though she wished a hole would open up in the floor and suck her right out of the room. Oh she was fun.

Poor Robert looked horribly confused by the tension in the air. Rhys continued to smile. Oddly, Shea’s reaction made him damn near giddy as she buried her face in her hands.

A little boy, about three years old, came running into the room. “Daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy!”

“Hey, little man,” Robert smiled as he picked up his youngest son. “What’s the matter?”

“Daddy, Jenna called me stupid!”

“Jenna,” Michelle chastised the girl who stood sulking in the doorway. “Don’t say things like that to your brother.”

“Well, he is,” Jenna pouted.

“That’s not nice, honey,” said Robert. “How would you like it if someone called you stupid?”

Jenna only huffed a laugh. “Well,” she said with her little girl nose in the air, “I’m not stupid.” Rhys struggled to keep a straight face at the little girl’s indignant retort.

“Jenna, go to your room. And stay in there until you can be a little nicer,” Robert commanded in his stern, fatherly voice.

Rolling her eyes, the young girl did as commanded, stomping up the stairs. Moments later came the sound of a slamming door.

Robert looked apologetically at Rhys. “Sorry, that kid is six going on sixteen, and she’s a bit of a diva, kind of like her mom,” he smiled with a wink at his wife who stuck her tongue out at him. In his arms, the little boy turned his attention on Rhys, and leaned his head close to his dad.

“Who’s that guy, daddy?” the little boy whispered loudly.

Robert smiled. “Rhys, this is our son, Joey. That was our daughter, Jenna, and our older boy, Sam, is around somewhere. Joey, this guy is Rhys. He’s here to learn some stuff about our town.” Looking over at his wife and Shea, Robert continued to explain. “He’s working with the survey office to determine how much of an impact there will be from the resort that McHugh Corporation wants to build. To help figure out its effects on the community, the area—both environmental and socioeconomic. He’s coordinating a couple different studies.”

Shea was instantly attentive, the scowl gone and replaced with a nervous interest.

“Do you work for McHugh?” she asked with a guarded voice.

“I’m independent. Non-biased,” Rhys said smoothly. Over the last few years, he’d gotten to where the little lies didn’t even bother him anymore. He’d told so many, and things always worked out in the end. He always managed to charm the situations into a resolution.

“Well, we don’t want it,” Shea quickly responded.

Robert looked over at Rhys. “Shea’s a little opposed to the idea.”

“Because it’s a bad idea. Really, really bad.” Shea looked at Rhys again. “Really, we don’t want it.”

Rhys contemplated her sudden change in demeanor. Gone was the angry frustration. The aggravated tension. She suddenly appeared pleading and anxious. This might be the key.

“We’re about to head in for a town meeting so I can meet some of the locals and get some feedback,” Rhys said, looking hopefully at her. The turmoil of the situation, her realization that he might play a role in the future of her town, evidently had shaken her. “Would you like to join us?” He threw in an extra charming smile as she bit her lip in indecision. Oh yeah, this was it.

“It’s at the Fire Hall, Shea. In about an hour.” Robert looked over at Michelle. “Do you want to go, babe?”

“Honestly, honey, I’d love to. But what about the kids?” she asked.

“Bring ‘em,” Robert responded. “They won’t be the only kids there, and there’s room for them to run around in the garage. Plus, you know that a get-together around here always turns into a big potluck thing, so you could bring that awesome smelling soup.”

“Okay, let’s load up. Did Rhys come here with you, hun?” After an affirmative nod from Robert, Michelle grinned widely. “Since our pickup will only seat five,” Michelle smiled at Rhys. “would you want to ride into town with Shea?”

Rhys smiled widely at the conflicted look on Shea’s face. “I’d love to…”

Chapter 6 ~ The Meeting

The ride to town was torture. As she drove, Shea’s mind was riddled with all the ways she’d been a bitch to this man. It was infuriating, the way he got under her skin. But she had to find a way to convince him, to show him, just how badly this resort would be for her little town.

And, at the same time, she was so aware of him. He had her completely on edge. She was incredibly aware of his large frame sprawled out on the passenger side of the truck. The clean, heady scent of pine and fresh air that followed him around.

She looked over at him in the passenger seat of the pickup. “So, why didn’t you tell me last night that that’s why you’re here?” she asked quietly.

“Well, honestly, at first, you kinda pissed me off,” Rhys replied. “You weren’t exactly nice and welcoming when you found me in the snow bank.”

Shea grimaced as she remembered. “I’m sorry. I was tired and grouchy after a long, difficult meeting. I just wanted to go home and curl up in front of the fire… alone.” She chewed her lip as she thought. Looking over at him, she asked, “But later… why not then?”

Rhys turned his gaze to her, and she had to force herself to tear her gaze back to the road, away from his captivating blue eyes. “I don’t know, really. I’m trying to be unbiased, I guess,” he shrugged.

“Is that why you kissed me?” she spoke at just over a whisper now, her eyes trained on the road. “To stay unbiased? Seems a bit counterproductive.”

Rhys turned to look out at the little community around him. Shea veritably held her breath until he spoke. “I’m not sure why I kissed you,” he said with what almost sounded like wonderment. “I probably shouldn’t have.”

A pang of rejection coursed through her, reminding her that she didn’t want this pull towards him or anyone else. Her short marriage to Gavin had been about all the rejection she could take. He hadn’t wanted her either. Not really. It had seemed so perfect at first, but, before long, his desire turned cold and critical. And, of course, there had been the old flame that had so quickly reignited. Nothing tears down an ego faster than knowing you’re not enough… unwanted.

But this pull towards Rhys was difficult to fight, and, for some reason, it did nip at her ego that he regretted kissing her. It confused her because, later in town, he’d been about to do it again. He’d been right there. So close that she could almost taste his lips.

There was something about him that wormed its way through the cracks of her isolationist façade. Being angry at him helped her hide, but the anger also drew a heated ache. Almost as though the passion that fueled her ire was masking the real fire behind it. It was uncomfortable. Strange. She needed to get control of it.

“Well, we won’t worry about it,” Shea murmured, drawing in a deep, fortifying breath. “It’s not like it will happen again anyway.”

Almost the entire town had showed up for the meeting. Robert had been spot-on about the potluck, and it seemed everyone in town brought something to share. Crock pots of hearty soups and chilies, pasta dishes and fresh-baked bread, cookies and pies. It was almost like it had been planned out all along.

Many of the women tittered and giggled at Rhys as he meandered through the Fire Hall, offering him tidbits of their specialties, encouraging him to taste their delectable desserts. Their overt attention elicited many an annoyed huff from Shea.

Off to the side in the garage bays, a few kids were running around giggling and playing. Right after Rhys and Shea had arrived, Robert and Michelle walked through the door led by a slightly older kid in a Darth Vader mask who raced into the fray. Jenna followed with a disgruntled frown, clearly not pleased with her task of guiding little Joey towards the other kids.

“…and you be nice,” Michelle was chiding at her, heading towards the long food tables to place the soup among the other dishes. “I’ll call you in a few minutes when we start dishing up dinner.”

As the evening progressed, Rhys looked around at the small community, listening carefully to the conversation facilitated by the mayor, to all the little side discussions going on around him. McHugh had been correct in that not many people had totally decided, although most the ones who were unsure leaned towards Shea’s way of thinking. Very few actually seemed open to the idea… at all.

Frankie, the somewhat odd guy that had showed up at Shea’s to pull his car from the snow, argued that the resort could bring jobs. Jobs that had disappeared when the housing market crashed and the pine beetles decimated the forests nearby. It had been a perfect storm that had rocked the local economy, so reliant on logging. So reliant on the wood and paper mills in the area.

But, just as McHugh had said, Shea was a squeaky wheel. A very loud squeaky wheel, at that.

“No, Frankie,” she said with firm conviction, “see, there’s something that you don’t understand. McHugh Corporation is coming in and telling us how much this will improve our economy, how they’re giving us jobs. But, you know what? The jobs are crap.” Rhys watched her, oddly feeling a sense of pride and awe by her words. She stood before the room, unafraid. Passionate and determined. Beautiful. And she did know what she was talking about. “Maids. Cooks. Bartenders. And as for bolstering up the economy here, if we start getting these big spenders showing up here and building their multi-million dollar log mansions on the mountainsides, every person in this town will lose the land that has been in their family for generations. Property taxes will skyrocket, and none of us will be able to afford that hike.”

“Shea, don’t be ridiculous,” Frankie scoffed. “Nobody is going to come in here and take our land away. We just need to stay current.”

“Frankie, how much do you pay in taxes right now? Your land is worth, what, forty thousand?”

Frankie nodded.

“Would you be able to afford it if that tripled? Quadrupled?” Shea looked back over to the mayor. “You don’t see poor people living in Big Sky. And the poor people are being run right out of Red Lodge. They can’t afford to stay.”

“Shea, you’re being overly dramatic,” the mayor counseled. “This could revive things around here with the tourism it would bring. Sure, Frankie’s income isn’t high right now, but the town only has about five hundred people, and even that is spread out. If we had visitors coming in, especially people driving in conditions they aren’t used to, it would probably triple his income.”

Shea’s was so clearly frustrated. Rhys watched her forehead pull tight in annoyance as she fired back. “Mayor Duncan, with all due respect, you and your bank are relatively new here. You’re not one of these families who grew up in these mountains, who really doesn’t know any other life. You have more money than half the people in this room. And this will ruin their home.”

Rhys watched as the meeting participants filed out of the room. From the sound of it, the discussion would continue, to a certain extent, at the Lone Pine Bar, one of three bars in the small town. This statistic made Rhys smile. Some things never changed. Montana towns were still made up of churches and bars. Michelle and Robert were loading their kids up to take them home, and he watched as Shea gave her friend a quick hug goodbye.

“You going to the Lone Pine?” Michelle asked.

Shea looked conflicted, and Rhys could see that, more than anything, she just wanted to go home. To her haven in the woods.

“I better…” she said dejectedly instead. “This is getting kind of real.”

Michelle nodded. “Well, just try not to get too fired up. Maybe have a drink. It might do you some good to relax a little.” Michelle’s eyes darted over to where Rhys stood off to the side. “Maybe you might even… enjoy yourself?” she added with a smile.

“Quit it, Michelle,” Shea grumbled.

Michelle’s little comment seemed innocent enough. Or at least as innocent as it could be with her obvious intent. But Rhys could feel something else in the woman’s tone, and there was a strange light in her eyes. Something that told him that he was getting under Shea’s skin, and that her friend could see it.

This was a big something.

“See you later, you little rascals,” Shea hollered goodbye to the kids in the truck. She turned back towards Rhys and, for a moment, she just looked at him, as if she were trying to solve a puzzle. Finally, she took the few steps towards him and spoke.

“So,” she began softly, “do you want to go to the Lone Pine with the others, or should I just take you to wherever you’re staying?”

“Were you going?” Rhys asked. “I’d like to buy you a drink. A truce.”

She didn’t want to. She was afraid to. Afraid to be with him. He could tell she just wanted to get the hell out of there, to leave him behind. But with a fortifying breath, she shrugged her shoulders and looked up at him with a challenging expression.

“Why not?” she murmured.

Chapter 7 ~ The Bar

The Lone Pine Bar was packed, something that usually only happened on Friday nights, Halloween, and New Year’s Eve. For a while, the discussion continued from the hall, Shea straining her ears to hear every word, to convince and sway the opinions around her. Rhys stayed close the whole time, causing her to feel jittery and off-balance. Before she realized it, as the crowd began to shift to more of a party atmosphere, she had anxiously sucked down three rum and Cokes.

"Watch out," Rhys said as he slipped his arm around the curve of her waist. "This guy needs to get by."

His hand slid softly down her spine to settle on the curve of her backside, and the touch of pressure brought her tightly up against him, eliciting a tremble that ran through her.

Shit!  The rum was going straight to her head. She stared up at him for a moment.

“You okay, sweetheart?” he murmured softly with a concerned smile.

Shea could feel the heat of his body, the softness of his flannel shirt. She could smell his enticing clean scent of soap and pine. His fingers shifted slightly where they rested, almost gripping, and the motion brought her a little closer even until her breasts were firmly pressed against his chest. Her breath caught in her throat at the flicker of heat in his eyes, and the rest of the bar seemed to fade as a tremor ran through her. Rhys dipped his head slightly, and Shea’s eyes drifted closed.

Oh my God, he was going to kiss her again.

Just before his lips could taste hers, Trinity came burrowing through the crowd, followed by a few of her barfly friends. “Hi, Rhys,” she smiled widely, noting that Rhys’ hand was firmly seated on Shea’s ass.

“Ladies…” Rhys winked at the girls, and all three broke out into nervous giggles. Shea pushed at him slightly, but he held her firm and looked back down at her with a stern shake of his head that stilled her and made her heart thud heavily in her chest. It unnerved her that she so quickly complied, and Shea took another long drink of her rum and Coke.

“Oh my God, Trinity,” one of them exclaimed a little too loudly as they disappeared back into the crowd. “You’re right. He’s amazing!”

“Wow!” the other chimed in with a squeal. “But what the hell is he doing with Shea?”

Rhys looked down at Shea as she scoffed at the comment.

“What’s wrong?” he laughed.

“My God, you’d think they’d never seen a dude before,” Shea grumbled as she reached for her fourth heavily-alcohol-laden drink, finishing it off and holding her glass up to the bartender to indicate the need for yet another.

“Are you jealous?” Rhys beamed as he studied her.

“No. Of course not,” Shea argued a bit breathlessly. “It’s just kind of disgusting the way every woman in this town seems to be throwing themselves at you. Even some of the married ones.”

“You are a little jealous, aren’t you?” he needled.

Shea grabbed her new rum and Coke, taking another long drink through the tiny straw as she looked up at him with a bit of annoyance. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she finally muttered, very unconvincingly.

“Well, would you like to know a secret?” Rhys teased, taking a sip of his beer. He set the bottle on the bar, and then reached his fingers up to trace the curve of her jaw. His hand was chilled from holding the cold bottle, and the cool touch tingled and teased her skin. “There’s only one woman in this town that has kept me awake at night.”

“What the hell?” Her eyes flew back up to his. “I barely know you. And you expect me to believe that you’re already sleepless over me? Me… little tomboy Shea.” She snorted in a rather unladylike fashion.

“Sweetheart, I don’t see you as a tomboy… at all. You are really pretty fucking hot, you know, with your lips that are just begging to be kissed. And, seriously, your body is killer.” The hand on her ass circled slightly with a caress, then gripped again and pulled her just that much closer. “And, last night, I could swear I heard you moan erotically in my dreams.”

Shea blanched, feeling as though she’d just been socked in the gut. Oh my God! Had he heard her? No… no no no. Holy shit… Not good.

“I’m sure it was just my imagination, though… right?” he quietly said in a low, husky tone. His eyes burned with an intensity that called to her and caused a shiver to course through her body. He was effortlessly tearing down her defenses.

Shea took another drink, a longer drink. Her new one was almost half gone already, and the alcohol, along with his close proximity and his seductive words, was turning her legs to jelly.

“You’re kind of stuck in my head,” Rhys murmured softly and brushed his hand along the delicate curve of her ear.

“You’d have much better luck with some of the other ladies in town, you know,” Shea said softly. “I don’t do this. I don’t sleep around. I don’t want you.”

“I don’t think you’re being totally honest with me… or yourself.”

“Besides,” Shea continued, ignoring his words and trying hard not to feel what he was making her feel, “you don’t want me either. Not really. You’re just intrigued because I’m the only set of ovaries in town that doesn’t flutter my eyelashes at you and giggle incessantly.”

“You’re wrong, sweetheart. I do… I do really want you. I’m honestly not sure why I want you so much.” Rhys traced his fingertip down the curve of her neck, along the protruding collar bone to her shoulder. “You are infuriating,” he said softly, his voice almost a caress, an endearment as he tipped his head down to whisper against her skin. “You are stubborn and feisty. But, for some fucked up reason, I see your face when I close my eyes.” His lips tickled the sensitive skin behind her ear as his words flowed through her. “Maybe it is the challenge.”

The vulnerability she suddenly felt was terrifying, and Shea reached for her drink again. Liquid courage. Finishing off the drink, she looked back up at him, steeling herself enough to speak. “I need to go home.”

“You’ve drank five of those drinks in about thirty minutes. You shouldn’t be driving.” Rhys brushed his fingers along her cheek as his hooded eyes met her gaze. “Give me your keys, and I’ll drive you home.”

“You?” Shea put both hands out and pushed him back. Without his support, she weaved a little and stumbled back against the bar. Damn, her motor skills were not at their best all of a sudden. “I can’t trust you to drive. You’ll get my pickup stuck in the snow. Are you forgetting how we met? You’ll never make it all the way to my cabin.”

Rhys reached into her coat pocket and snatched her keys playfully, stepping back and holding them up out of her reach. “Then I’ll take you to mine.”

Shit. Not quite the answer she was looking for.

By the time they made it to his rental cabin, Shea’s head was literally spinning from all the booze. She didn’t drink often and was a little perturbed that she’d poured the shit down her throat tonight like she had. Especially now. Now that she was here, with him, at his cabin. Part of her figured she should run like hell. That this was not going to end well.

Shea glared at Rhys suspiciously across the cab of the truck.

“Well,” he threw a challenging smile back at her, “hop out.”

“I shouldn’t be here,” she frowned and looked out the passenger-side window into the dark.

“Then you shouldn’t have been chugging that rum at the bar,” he chuckled and opened the driver door.

With a heartfelt sigh of defeat, Shea opened her door and took a step out into the snow… and slipped and fell on her ass with a thud. God! Could she truly embarrass herself any more tonight? She flopped back to lay flat on the frozen ground and closed her eyes, willing the world away until she heard a crunch in the snow beside her. There stood Rhys, in all his super hotness glory, looking down at her with an entirely too amused grin on his face. She threw her arm over her eyes.

“Fuck,” she muttered.

“Would you like a little help, sweetheart?” His rich voice sent a ripple of longing through her, and every muscle deep inside her clenched tightly. Yeah, way too much rum. Maybe she should just sleep out here, in the snow. It would likely be safer than being in an enclosed space with him… all alone.

“Nope,” she mumbled, her voice thick from the booze, the embarrassment, and the tingling of lust deep inside her. “I think I’ll just hang out here for a while.”

A deep chuckle reverberated through him as he reached down and lifted her easily, cradling her against his broad chest.

“Sorry, Shea. You didn’t leave me in the snow, I’m not going to leave you in the snow either.”

The scent of pine and fresh air instantly enveloped her senses as her head lolled on his shoulder. Taking a deep breath, she tried to infuse the aroma into her brain. Dammit. Why was this man so appealing? She was normally so much better at keeping her distance, but he drew her in, pulled her with an invisible thread that was so fine, yet so strong.

Swinging the door open, a blast of warm air hit her as they entered the small cabin. Rhys flicked on the light switch which illuminated one of the lamps sitting on the nightstand. As much as she had been troubled by his close proximity, she immediately mourned the loss of his strength and heat when he put her down. He set her softly at the foot of the bed, his hand still around her back to steady her as she swayed slightly in the upright sitting position. His other hand reached up to dust some snow from her hair.

The low, warm light caressed his features, and his concerned eyes caught hers. Nervously, her tongue instinctively ran along her lips, drawing his gaze down for a moment. The intensity in his eyes as he looked back at her stopped her heart and caused a tremble to course through her.

"My God, you are a truly beautiful man," she murmured.

He smiled and shook his head. "You're truly drunk."

“Yeah, I am. But, seriously... Holy fuck," she continued to gaze at him with a starry-eyed expression. "When you showed up at Michelle’s, I was trying so hard to stay pissed at you for earlier, to keep my distance from you. But you just kinda made me go all... Uhhh…” She looked down, studying her fingers as they traced the zipper on his coat. "I just kinda... melted. That pissed me off even more. I shouldn't be telling you this, though. You have enough Snowcreek groupies going all bonkers over you all the time. I doubt your ego really needs anymore fluffing."

"I don't think I’ve ever met anyone who has tried so hard to be pissed at me,” he murmured softly as his hand brushed along her cheek. “You tend to bring my ego back down to earth.” He touched his forehead to hers, drawing a rush of breath from deep in her chest.

“Rhys,” she whispered, “don’t kiss me again. You’re too hard to push away.”

She could feel the battle inside him, the tensing muscles and the steeled resolve.

“I know I shouldn’t,” he said softly. “I keep replaying that last kiss, though. The sweet taste of your lips. Fuck, sweetheart. You make me so… hungry.”

The fingers softly brushing her cheek set every nerve of her body on fire, and a shallow exhalation shuddered in her chest, leaving her body in short, gaspy breaths.

“Oh fuck,” Shea whispered. Almost of their own accord, her arms fumbled to his shoulders and wrapped around his neck, and she pulled herself up to him to press her lips against his.

For a moment, Rhys didn’t move, as though he was completely shocked by her actions. Shea pushed her tongue into his mouth and whimpered as her hands tangled in his hair.

And then he wrapped himself around her, pushing her slightly back to lie on the bed. His solid weight body crushed hers, firm against her softness. His strong arms pulled her tightly to him, one hand rising to cup her cheek, holding her lips steady as he plundered her mouth like a starving man. Shea’s legs spread to accommodate his hips, and she pushed up against his groin. She could feel the growing hardness of his shaft, and she moaned loudly into his mouth.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he murmured against her lips. “That moan… I swear I heard you make that same fucking sound last night.”

With a gasp, Shea ducked her head to his shoulder. Her trembling fingers grasped the flannel of his shirt as he pressed her into the softness of the bed. She lay there trembling beneath him, her breathing harsh, rushed, panting with the frenzied sensations coursing through her.

Rhys pulled back and leaned up slightly, looking down to study her. She shut her eyes, unable to gaze into his eyes, to see the want she felt radiating off of him. Part of her was begging for him to kiss her again; part of her was terrified that he actually might. At the last second, just when she thought he might give in, his body tensed for a moment and then he was gone.

Shea looked up at him as he stepped back and scrubbed his hands over his face. She lay there with her legs dangling over the side of the bed and her hand grasped at her chest, almost as though the pressure could slow her pounding heart and her ragged breathing. Her body screamed for him to come back, to touch her, to kiss her and hold her.

But, even in her highly intoxicated state, her brain stopped her from moving towards him again, from speaking. Even when he looked back over at her, oozing with desire. Even when she ached to feel his fingers skate down her ribs, to caress her heavy breasts.

She had to stop this. She barely knew this man. This wasn’t her…

“You should take your coat off,” Rhys said quietly, “and your boots. But, sweetheart, as much as I hate to make you sleep in jeans, you should probably leave the rest of that on.”

Shea nodded, weakly pushing herself to sit upright. Her throat was so dry she couldn’t speak.

“Actually, just a sec…” He crossed over to his suitcase and pulled out a pair of long johns. “These might be more comfortable. And you’ll still be fully clothed.”

Shea took the soft thermal clothing from him, and he helped her up so she could stumble into the bathroom. She locked the door behind her, more to lock herself in than to lock him out.

Good Christ, she’d probably do anything he asked at the moment.

As Shea disappeared into the bathroom, Rhys took a few deep breaths. He was hard as a fucking rock, but he really had to get control of himself. He was here to do a job. Granted, she was the job, but it was still a job, and he had to keep it straight in his mind. Reaching into the mini-fridge, he grabbed a couple bottles of water and opened one, taking a long drink before setting them on the dresser. He pulled off his coat and kicked off his heavy Sorel boots, scooting them over by the door. Undoing the buttons of his flannel shirt, he slipped it off his shoulders, deciding to retain the heather gray t-shirt underneath.

He wanted so badly to throw her back down on the bed. There was such a pull towards her, unlike anything he’d ever known. More than anything in the world right now, he wanted to strip her down and fuck her senseless. Patience, Rhys… patience. He had to take it slow. As much as he wanted her, he couldn’t act tonight. With her inebriation, regret and resentment would give her even more reason to pin people against him.

The click of the bathroom door drew his eyes to her, and he about swallowed his tongue. She was way to fucking sexy to be real! The ivory thermal fabric hugged her curves, stretched across her breasts and tapered down her narrow waist. Her auburn hair tumbled down her back to end just above the curve of her luscious ass. Rhys groaned as she walked past him to set her clothes on a chair, and the sound drew her eyes up to his.

He was frozen for a moment, lost in their dark-fringed hazel depths.

Shit.

He should have taken her home.

Rhys cleared his throat and looked towards the bed.

“There’s some water here, if you’re thirsty at all. Why don’t you, um… get into bed,” he mumbled. “I’m going to go and change.” His focus shifted to the light nip of her teeth on her swollen lips, complete with a faint tremble. He could still taste her kiss. “I won’t put the moves on you, sweetheart,” he said, closing his eyes and turning his head slightly away. “I’m not going to lie to you. I do want you. Really. Fucking. Bad. But you’re drunk, and I’ll behave myself.” He grabbed a pair of flannel sleep pants and made his way to the bathroom to change.

Hard as a rock. Jesus Christ… he needed to get this under control. She was affecting him way more than she should. More than he should allow her to. As much as he wanted her, he knew it was wrong. He wouldn’t be able to do his job if he lost control now.

A shower… maybe a shower.

He flicked on the water and stripped down. As he began to soap up, his mind traitorously shifted back to Shea. The warm water relaxed him, but his thoughts wandered.

Fuck…

The way she affected him was unnerving. She was the job. He had to remember that, to keep that in the forefront of his mind. But he thought of her impassioned voice tonight at the meeting. Her concern, not just for herself and her own land, but all those people in the room was so evident… powerful. In that moment, he had battled between the guilty knowledge of why he was here and a sheer pride in her bravery to stand up for her community.

And she was right. Absolutely. Her town would never be the same when McHugh was done. The people who had been so welcoming, this little community that seemed to thrive in its isolated little bubble of the world, would not survive the resort.

She was smart to not want that. Smarter than she knew. He tried to focus on that, on how mad she was going to be, how much she was going to hate him. He attempted to dwell on every horribly negative thing that crossed his mind, but instead he remembered how incredible it had felt to press his lips to hers, to envelope her into his body and lose himself in her kiss once more.

Rhys, don’t kiss me again…

Her soft voice echoed in his mind as his soapy hands slid over his body.

But then, she had kissed him. Passionately and demanding.

His fingers tingled with the sensation of having his hands on those lovely little curves. He had simply ached to nip at the pulse beating wildly at her throat. To feel her hands on him, skimming down his ribs to grasp his throbbing cock. Her breathy moan echoed through his brain. How would she sound as he sunk deeply inside her?

Fuck.

Of their own volition, his soapy fingers took hold of his aching length. He squeezed harshly, trying to draw away the desire, but his subconscious need was stronger and he began to slide his hands over the smooth hardness.

The firm grip of his slippery, soapy hand made him groan as he closed his eyes and pictured Shea’s soft lips, eliciting a powerful shudder. Just the thought of her little mouth taking him in, suckling and drawing on his length. The oddly sexy little sprinkling of freckles on her nose as her head bobbed over him, licking up his length like a motherfucking ice cream cone.

His hand began to move faster.

Her skin was so soft, warm and smooth in its pale porcelain tone. To see her bare before him. To spread her legs wide and plunge into her. To hear her moan and sob as she came apart around him. Rhys groaned as he hit the pinnacle, and his knees almost buckled with relief as he spewed into the hot stream of water. A few more rough tugs, and he was completely spent.

Beating off in the shower like a teenager.

Nice.

He hadn’t done that in years.

At least he’d now be able to go back out into the room with Shea without the all-too-obvious tenting of his flannel pants.

He took his time to brush his teeth, using every moment to talk himself down, to cool himself off, to calm his breathing and his rapid pulse.

Finally he opened the door to see her curled up far on the side of the bed, facing the wall, a pillow bolstered up against her back.

Fuck, and just like that, he was getting hard all over again.

Even with the thickness of the pillow between them, her fresh scent surrounded him as he lay down on the empty side of the bed. The sound of her shaky breathing caressed his senses and fired him back up. He lay there for entirely too long, wide awake and hard as hell, listening to her alcohol-soaked body slowly drift off to sleep.

This was going to be a long night.

Chapter 8 ~ The Escape

Shea’s eyes fluttered open, blinking in confusion at the unfamiliar room around her. One of the rental cabins. She’d been in them a few times over the years for various reasons. She had even slept in one once, the summer after her senior year when she’d drank a little too much at a party and ended up here with her soon-to-be husband, Gavin. That one had two beds, though, she remembered, as a newly married Michelle and Robert had snagged the other. That all seemed like so long ago.

She slowly became aware of the heavy arm around her waist. The pillow she’d placed behind her back was long gone. She felt the tickle of his soft breath in her hair. The night slowly came back to her.

His words in the bar.

For some fucked up reason, I see your face when I close my eyes…

Her own, in the low light of his cabin.

My God, you are a truly beautiful man…

You just kinda made me go all... Uhhh...

She flushed at the thought of what had tumbled out of her mouth. What the hell was she thinking?

His quiet confession as her body silently begged both for him to touch her and to leave her untouched.

I do want you.

Pretty fucking bad.

And then, that heady kiss that robbed her of any sense. The feel of his hard length pressed between her thighs as she lay underneath him on the soft bed. God, she wanted him.

She was so messed up. She barely knew this man, and he had way too much power over her. His report could quite possibly ruin or save her town. She had to play nice. She had to be polite and watch her temper, no matter how much he might draw out her passion.

But even more than that, her internal struggle was beginning to overshadow the reality of Snowcreek’s future. In such a short time, the way he affected her was beginning to become frightening. In one moment, she was irrational and frustrated, then oddly comforted by his strength. Then she was suddenly frenzied with a painful need. And through it all, she felt sexy and feminine for the first time in a long time. Never before had someone really gotten to her this way. Not even Gavin. Not even remotely.

At any rate, she knew she desperately had to get out of this room before he woke up. The vulnerability he instilled in her was beginning to chink her armor, and, regardless of who he was and why he was here, regardless of the push and pull between them, he was going to leave.

She had to keep level-headed. She didn’t want to be lonely. Not again. It was so much easier to just be alone, without the specter of loss looming all around her.

Shea slid carefully from underneath his arm and off the bed. Quietly, she pulled on her boots and coat over the long johns, and grabbed her clothes, freezing at every pause in his breathing.

Keys… where were her keys?

She spotted his coat and reached her hand in the pocket.

Thank God! There they were.

With one last quick glance at Rhys, Shea softly crept to the door and escaped into the cold predawn air.

Shea’s fingers were painfully freezing in the frigid, biting breeze as she filled her pickup with gas. Damn… why wasn’t she wearing her gloves? That man had her so scattered. She was having a hell of a time focusing on anything, completely perturbed by thoughts of Rhys.

She glanced just down and across the street at the rental cabins that sat at the edge of town. The sun was only just starting to peek over the mountains, glimmering off his replacement rental Jeep that was still parked out in front. At least he’d gotten rid of the Prius with its little tiny not-made-for-snow tires.

Trinity pulled up on the other side of the pumps. Getting out of her little Subaru, she eyed Shea curiously.

“Morning, Shea,” she said. “You’re in town awful early.”

Trinity’s gaze flitted over Shea’s garb. Snow boots, a coat, and Rhys’ thermals. Shea desperately wished she had pulled on her jeans before leaving his cabin, but had been in such a hurry to leave before he woke up that she hadn’t wanted to risk it. At least the coat was zipped up tightly. Maybe Trinity wouldn’t find the long johns odd. It was a small town, and most people didn’t really dress to impress here.

“I heard there was another heavy snowfall coming,” Shea responded with a bored calm that she didn’t really feel. “I needed to get some groceries so I can just hole up at home and work for a few days.”

That wasn’t even a little white lie. That was full on truth. She was so ready to get the hell out of town, to get back to her cabin and away from anyone and everyone. After leaving Rhys, she had sat in her truck for a good hour in front of the Snowcreek Mercantile waiting for Linda to open so she could pick up yesterday’s groceries. Having gotten the necessary items, she was all set to avoid any and all communication with that man who was entirely too delicious, too aggravating, and too tempting.

She turned her back to Trinity and watched the little digital numbers on the gas pump in a bit of a daze. She was a little hungover and a lot preoccupied. She didn’t even want to think about him. Even if something were to happen, it wouldn’t end well, and it would end.

It always did.

“Hey, sweetheart,” she heard Rhys softly say, and her eyes slammed shut at the sound.

Fuck!

A flicker of excitement coursed through her at the deep husky sound of his voice. She bit her lip, trying to get control of herself before she turned to look up at him. A fruitless effort, though. It didn’t help at all. Not even a little bit.

Goosebumps rose all over her skin as she turned towards him. He hadn’t shaved since he’d been in town, and, somehow, that shadow of growth on his jaw made him even more appealing. She steeled herself to stay in control, to not be affected by him.

“Hey,” she murmured, desperately hoping she was coming off nonchalant and almost annoyed.

Shea fought the urge to see if Trinity was still standing there, close enough to hear even the slightest exchange. If she was, it was a sure bet that she was all over this conversation. Shea swallowed hard and purposefully looked back at the gas pump that was still zipping along.

Her tank was likely only half full.

Fuck. Why didn’t she get a hybrid again?

“So, what’s up?” she asked, and her words came out more breathless, lacking any of the serenity she was trying for.

“I just walked over to the gas station here to get a cup of coffee. Was thinking I might drive up to your place to see how you were feeling? I didn’t even realize you left this morning until you were gone,” he smiled.

Shea’s mouth dropped open. He did not just say that, right here and right now. Oh God. With Trinity standing five feet away.

“What the hell, Rhys?” she gritted out as her eyes darted around for anyone else. And, yes, Trinity was frozen in the midst of washing the grime off her windshield, gaping mouth and stunned features.

Shit!

“Why do you keep saying shit like that? Especially in front of her!” Shea ground out under her breath at Rhys. “My God, this is a small town, and rumors are already flying, thanks to your little display in the store yesterday.”

“I don’t know,” Rhys smirked with a naughty grin at her discomfort. “I just kind of like to see your eyes get all sparkly when you’re ticked.”

“Well, you’re pretty fucking good at pissing me off!” she grumbled back.

He only smiled, melting her insides and making her even angrier. “You should go out to dinner with me.”

“I’m busy,” Shea responded.

“I didn’t even say when,” he smiled.

“Doesn’t matter. I’m a busy person.” Finally, the gas pump clicked off, and Shea finished up.

“Wait, Shea…” Rhys started, and she stopped in her tracks, back to him, but listening. “I’m curious to know why you are so opposed to the hill…”

Unable to repress the urge to seize this opportunity, no matter how much she really wanted to just drive off and leave him in the snow, Shea turned slowly. She had to take this opportunity. It was so very important to the future of her little town. But she didn’t trust him, and she glared at him suspiciously to let him know it.

Rhys smiled widely. “So, I’d like to take you to dinner. Discuss it. Maybe you can help make sure things work out all right.”

Shea took a deep breath. “How about we go for a quick drive before the snow hits. Get in the truck.”

“Okay. Now you can look,” Shea softly said as she brought the pickup to a stop.

Rhys cracked his eyes open and took the scenery before him. Opening the passenger side pickup door, he stepped out into the deep snow, taking a few steps away to look over the panorama before him. The gorge ahead really was stunning. The wide valley, gouged out by glaciers so long ago. Large chunks of granite arose, giving the whole area a completely wild and rough terrain.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” She whispered as she came to stand beside him. “Serene. Picturesque. All that shit.”

Rhys smiled at her words before he looked over at her and nodded. “It is, sweetheart.”

“Now, imagine it with that whole mountainside,” she pointed off to the center mountain, with all its stature and awe, “a bunch of the trees gone, cut out in big strips. Imagine a big, gaudy, brightly lit lodge over there.” She pointed off to the right. “And, on that side, a golf course with a phony lake, and over there a bunch of condos, hotels, stores.” Shea sighed heavily. “Before long, the road between here and town would be littered with giant log mansions and privacy gates. Everything would start to change. The funky little town I adore will morph into a posh ski village with overpriced clothing stores and trendy art galleries. And, worst of all, the people here will lose their sense of community as they start to fade away.”

He thought of the meeting the night before. The way the town kids all played like a big family in the garage. The oldest of Michelle and Robert’s young brood, introduced to him as Sam aka Darth Vader, was chasing what could only be a hoard of screaming Rebels around the firetruck. The sound effects of imaginary light sabers and blasters filled the air, and even little Joey, who looked to be emulating Jedi Master Yoda, was in on the action with his attempts to levitate objects to hurtle them at Darth.

As the adults discussed the future of their town, the sense of community was overwhelming. Light-hearted banter and teasing. The social vibe of togetherness, comfort, neighborly acceptance, and concern. Looking over the stunning view before him, his gut twisted a little at the thought of that going away.

“I love this place, Rhys. I grew up back in these mountains. I’ve never known anyplace else quite like it.”

Rhys looked down at her, the solemn cast to her gaze. “But, in this one valley, would it really be so bad? The town would still be there. Nobody has to change that.”

Shea smiled sadly. “All that would change. I wasn’t blowing shit out of my ass when I said that in the meeting yesterday. Some of us locals, the ones who weren’t driven out by the traffic and the hordes of rich people, would maybe have five years or so before the property taxes would hit the roof. We already have to pay more than normal because we don’t have a state sales tax. Where some states bring in revenue that way, Montana has to make up for that somewhere… so the landowners foot the bill.”

Rhys’ brow knitted as he contemplated her words.

“I can afford it now, doing my transcription, because I do live cheaply,” she said, and she looked back out over the valley. “But being a medical transcriptionist isn’t really as proliferative as it was a few years ago. When the economy crashed, a lot of places started making cuts, and it is easier and much cheaper for hospitals to cut the expensive transcription companies than to cut their own employees. A couple hikes in tax rates, and I won’t be able to stay. A lot of people around here won’t.”

The wind began to pick up, blowing a chilly dusting of snow and ice through the air from the trees behind them. The sound echoed through the hills, a lonely tone that made Shea shiver as she spoke again.

“And, even if it didn’t tax people out, all the money and traffic, all the new blood… this community would never be the same.”

Quietly, almost to himself, Rhys whispered. “I’m not sure anything I can say will change it, sweetheart.” He turned back to her, and for a split-second, his heart beat with an indiscriminate emotion. Hollow and almost… guilty. He shook his head slowly. “This place won’t be untouched forever,” he said softly.

Shea ducked her head, her determined hazel eyes looking back over the valley. “Maybe not, but I have to do what I can to preserve it.”

The ride back down from the mountains was a quiet one. Shea seemed lost in her thoughts, chewing her lip and occasionally uttering quiet one-word responses to his intermittent questions. Finally, Rhys stopped trying to converse, and he watched her unobtrusively, feeling a little torn by his conscience.

Who the fuck knew he even still had a conscience?

But watching Shea, seeing the fight in her eyes, the love for this land around her… it made him wonder when anything had been important to him. Anything. Anyone.

He’d been this materialistic, uncaring shell for so long. Nobody mattered. Pawns on a chessboard. His only living relative, his father, was barely a person to him at times. More of an obligation. Gotta call dad, or he’ll start calling me. His lack of belonging, once believed by him to be an immense asset, was suddenly rather… sad.

What the hell?

He closed his eyes for a moment, fighting to get her lovely face out of his mind. Her expression as she had looked mournfully over the valley. The way the light had reflected off the snow, bringing out the warm brown flecks in her hazel eyes. The way she squinted against the bright sunlight that shone from the crystal-blue sky streaked with feathery clouds. There was a poignant bleakness about her, as though she was losing the only thing she had left that she loved.

One thing for sure, he wouldn’t be able to sway her. She would never see the resort as a good thing. Pushing his bit of self-reproach to the side, he steeled up his resolve to get the job done and to get out of Snowcreek, away from this woman that made him… feel.

They pulled up in front of his small rental cabin on the edge of town, and Rhys pulled on his gloves before opening his door. He looked over at Shea who sat in the driver seat, quiet and introspective.

“Thank you,” he said, and she looked over at him, gauging his sincerity. “I’m not sure I can do much, but thank you for showing me that.”

She gave him more of a grimace than a smile. “I have to fight it,” she softly said. “Sometimes, it is very easy to see you as an enemy, as someone who has a power in this crappy situation. I’m torn between wanting to sway you to my side and wanting to run you out of town.” She gave a dry, bitter chuckle. “I’m not really a bitch. You just make me… uncomfortable.”

“Good uncomfortable, or bad uncomfortable?” he asked quietly.

Shea looked away, out at the clouds quickly rolling over the mountains in the distance, trailing a wall of white as they brought on a fresh layer of snow. Her brow knitted, and Rhys waited, almost breathlessly, waiting for her response. Finally, without looking back at him, she spoke.

“I need to get home,” she said softly, “before that snow hits.”

Rhys nodded and stepped out of the pickup. He looked at her profile long and hard before murmuring quietly, “Bye, sweetheart.”

As he closed the door, she caught her lip in her teeth and shut her eyes tightly. But she didn’t look at him again. He watched as she took a deep breath, put the pickup in gear, and drove away.

After her taillights had faded down the road and through the trees, he walked into his small cabin. He didn’t like feeling this way. He didn’t like the grudging pull at his gut. He didn’t like feeling like what he was doing was wrong. He knew it was, but this shit had never bothered him before.

Not before Shea.

Pulling out his iPhone, he saw he had missed a call from McHugh, so he pushed the button to call him back.

“Rhys, my boy,” McHugh boomed through the phone. “How’s our little project coming along? Got anything for me?”

Rhys exhaled a long and slow breath. “I don’t know, McHugh. This is kind of a tough situation.”

McHugh laughed loudly. “She’s a challenge, I’m sure, but you’ve never let me down yet. Remember that lady in Barbados? She took a little work to get you to sell me her stretch of beach, but, you smooth-talker, you… she finally did it and gave me one heck of a deal at that. And she was just happy as a clam about the whole thing. You must have wrapped your dick in gold for her.”

Rhys grimaced uncomfortably. Not exactly a good memory, and his remorse was already eating away at him. Didn’t need that reminder!

“This lady is different, though, McHugh. I think she’s too tough of a nut for me to crack.” Rhys seized on something—anything—to make McHugh less into whoring him out like this. “She’s really stubborn as all hell, boss. Her mind isn’t gonna change, no matter how much I lay it on her. She doesn’t seem to be falling for my usual schmoozing. I don’t know, maybe she’s a lesbian?”

“Hmm… well, that’s unfortunate. I’d rather catch my flies with honey, but sometimes a little bug bomb is really what it will take. So, if you really don’t think you can get to her, if you don’t think you’re going to be able to fuck it out of her, then get some dirt on her,” McHugh commanded. “Find something that she can’t control, something that will make her inconsequential.”

Damn. Not really where he was hoping this conversation would go. As much of a dick as he could be, Rhys didn’t want to hurt her. Remembering the bereft emotion in her eyes as she looked out over the valley, the sad lilt to her voice, he realized he really didn’t want anyone to hurt her.

Fuck.

“I’m not sure anyone could make Shea inconsequential, McHugh. I honestly think I could sway some of the others, but this one… she’s kind of like a pile of TNT. We could be stirring up one hell of a hornet’s nest by messing with her too much.” Here goes, Rhys thought. Try at get him off of her trail. “I think I should back off her, focus on the others.”

“Rhys,” the older man’s voice suddenly lost all joviality, and the serious tone expanded the dread Rhys felt growing in his gut. “I can’t do shit without her land. She’s got way too much and the location of it is simply too paramount to my plans. And, to top it off, she really has too much pull in that little backwoods town. I need you to take her down.”

Rhys exhaled in frustration.

“What is it, Rhys? Is there something else? Is she getting to you?”

“Of course not,” Rhys lied.

“Well, I hope not, my boy,” McHugh frowned. “We’ve got a good thing going. Don’t fuck it up.”

After giving him his orders, McHugh disconnected the call without any warning. Rhys tossed his phone on the small table in front of the window and flopped down on the bed. The room had been tidied by the maids while he was out with Shea, but a faint, fresh whiff emanated from the pillows.

Shea… it smelled like Shea.

Chapter 9 ~ The Night

Shea backed away from her computer after emailing in her work, rubbing her tired eyes. She had finally finished a surgical report by the notoriously difficult Dr. Rajasthan. The thick Indian accent was incredibly challenging to understand at best, and occasionally it was just downright impossible. Even everyday layman terms were straining, much less the complexities of the medical language. Shea hated leaving blanks in the text, but her country bumpkin Montana ears could only do so much before they felt like they were going to explode.

She pushed her chair back and stood, stretching her stiff muscles as she crossed over to the fireplace to put some more wood on the low blaze. The snow had started up again two days ago when she had just gotten home from dropping Rhys off. She’d been holed up typing away for almost the whole time, trying to catch up on her transcription quota from the hours she missed when he first arrived. Her body ached from lack of motion, but, thanks to some good dictation, she’d managed to fly through a ton of work, catching up and then some. The only bad one had been the last report.

After stoking up the blaze and scratching Wolfie behind the ears, she meandered into her small kitchen to put away the remains of her dinner, a pot of elk stew that had fed her through the last day and a half of nonstop typing. She was just finishing up when Wolfie’s ears perked up and he lumbered over to the front window of the cabin.

The crunch of tires in the deep snow outside could faintly be heard through the heavy cabin walls, and she followed Wolfie to see who was there.

Rhys.

Shit.

Yay.

No, shit.

Really… shit.

Her play of emotions duked it out as she tried to decide just how she should feel about him being there. Wondering why he was there. Angry at the confusion that he wrought. A little excited by the thought of his splendid manliness standing in her little cabin again.

In the clear, bright moonlight that shone over the white terrain, she saw him climb out of his rental Jeep. A moment later, he climbed the steps to her porch, and a quick heavy knock sounded at her door. Shea’s first instinct was to pretend she wasn’t home. But, really… her truck was there. Her lights were on. He’d know that was bullshit in a second.

Crossing over to the door, she quickly looked down at her worn, faded jeans and light, clingy beige sweater. At least she had showered today, although she wasn’t terribly presentable with her hair up in a messy bun. Not that she cared what he thought, though.

Really… she didn’t.

Shea ripped the clip out that held her hair up off her neck, and the still slightly damp tendrils fell around her shoulders. She dropped it on the radio by the entrance and reached for the doorknob, mentally preparing herself to be cool. But as she opened the door, she almost moaned at the sight of him before her.

Fuck. Why did he have to be so God-damned good-looking? In the last two days, his stubble had grown thicker along his jaw, and he looked really rugged and… hot. Her body craved him, and the desire made her feel angry and defensive, Shea narrowed her eyes at him.

“Rhys, what the fuck are you doing here?” she asked.

He smiled at her less-than-enthusiastic greeting. “I see absence does not make the heart grow fonder after all, huh, sweetheart?” he asked as Wolfie nuzzled his hand, apparently not terribly upset by their company.

“I’m sorry, I just… I’m not used to having people just show up anyway, and for you to… It’s just a bit of a surprise, that’s all.”

“Can I come in?” he asked. “I just wanted to check on you, to see how you were doing because I hadn’t seen you in town for a few days.”

Shea stood back, opening the door wider to allow him in. He crossed through the doorway and unbuttoned his coat. Shea held the door open for another moment as Wolfie peered into the night before stepping out to explore. Shea shut the door behind him.

“I’ve been working,” she said quietly. “Trying to get caught up after all the excitement earlier this week, you know.”

“Excitement?” Rhys laughed as he pulled the coat from his wide, broad, beautiful… Stop it, Shea!  “What kind of excitement? Oh, wait, you mean having a stranger in town,” he chuckled.

“Rhys, Snowcreek is kind of the end of the road. We don’t really get people here that are passing through.” Shea took his coat and hung it on a hook by the door as Rhys bent down to remove his snow-caked boots. “So, yeah, someone new just shows up out of the blue, and it generates a little discussion. And the meeting the other day and everything, it just all got me completely off schedule with my transcription.”

Rhys kicked off his last boot and stood, walking over to her. Looming above her, actually, causing a thrill to run down her center. “Do you want me to leave? Or did you get caught up?” he asked, the dim light of the room casting slight shadows that played up the angle of his cheek.

Shea should tell him to leave. She should tell him she was behind and had to work.

But she didn’t. Instead, she ducked around him, stepping in a clump of melting snow that completely soaked through her socks and chilled her skin. Goosebumps rose all over her body. Every sensation seemed to be amplified when he was around.

“No,” she said, kicking herself the whole time, “I actually just kinda typed nonstop for the last day or two, and I’ve made up ground. I’ve even gotten a little ahead.” She crossed over to the fireplace and sat on the edge of the couch closest to its heat. She reached down and pulled off the cold, wet socks. Using every acting skill she possessed, she did her best to appear unbothered by his appearance. “So, what’s up? Why the impromptu visit?” She laid the wet socks on the edge of the hearth to dry and turned to watch Rhys casually amble to the other end of the couch and sprawl out to soak in the heat of the fire.

“Just what I said. I hadn’t seen you in a few days. I was just wondering how you were doing. I’ve been, um… thinking about you.”

Her eyes flew up to meet his, caught in the blue depths. He was making it somewhat difficult, with his ever-so-soft-looking thermal shirt, ruffled and messy hair, shadowy unshaved jaw. And there was an intensity in his eyes as he looked over at her that instantly made her drop her gaze to where her hands sat in her lap. She instantly noticed that the v-neck to her sweater had dipped low, showing off a bit more of the curves of her breasts than she had realized.

Her eyes darted back to his and saw the heat reflecting from the fire dancing off them, giving him a devilish appearance. Yes, she most definitely should have told him she was busy… she should have made him leave. Without a doubt.

Taking a deep breath, a breath that caused her chest to rise and drew his eyes once again to the skin she had unwittingly exposed, Shea tugged her sweater back and tried to steer the conversation onto something else. Anything else.

“How’s your report going?” All the resolve in the world couldn’t erase the breathy softness to her voice. It was as though she was channeling her inner Marilyn Monroe without even trying.

Shit.

The words seemed to jolt Rhys from his focused attention on her breasts. Thank God. She needed to keep this… platonic.

“Slow. The discussion with the locals varies some, so it is kind of hard to summarize everyone’s opinion into a report.”

Shea knitted her brow and looked at the fire. “It baffles me that everyone here isn’t vitriolic with their opposition,” she grumbled. “It’s going to ruin this town, you know.”

“So you’ve said… a few times, I believe.”

“And yet, you’re still here. You’re still looking into it,” she turned an irritated expression back to him. “You know this is going to fuck things up for all the residents of this place. You know that.”

“Shea, we don’t know that for sure… there are a lot of things that can affect this.”

“That’s bullshit, Rhys.” She stood and hastily crossed to the kitchen. His presence unsettled her. His calm argument frustrated her. She had to do something with the frustration, so she began piling her few dishes in the sink and filling it with warm, sudsy water. “You don’t understand. This part of the area is special. It hasn’t gotten weird like Bigfork or Polson. It’s still the small Montana town I grew up in. And this resort will fuck that all up.”

Rhys followed her into the kitchen and leaned against the island, just off to the side of her. He crossed one leg over the other and folded his arms across her chest, watching her intently. She flushed slightly, both with anger and his close inspection, and she focused her aggravation on the dishes as she began to hastily scrub them and place them in the other sink to rinse.

“Why are you always so angry with me?” Rhys asked, sounding slightly amused.

“I’m not angry with you. I’m angry at the situation.”

“Sweetheart, you sure seem to focus that anger on me a lot.”

Shea whirled around to face him, grabbing a dishtowel to dry her hands. “Okay, maybe I am a little angry with you. You have the power to stop this.”

“Well, then shouldn’t you be a little nicer to me?” he smiled.

“What, I should be all sugary sweet to make you want to do the right thing? You should just DO the right thing, Rhys. I shouldn’t have to go all wonky like every other fucking woman in this town.”

“Huh… Every other fucking woman?” Rhys lifted his chin a little, and his smile changed slightly, his eyes narrowing, as though he had just seen something in her.

The look he suddenly focused on her was becoming heated, and Shea walked around him to the other side of the island, twisting closed a bag of rolls and tossing them on the counter in the corner of the kitchen. She flicked off the overhead light, dropping the kitchen to a warm glow from the fireplace close by, and began to wipe crumbs off the counter with her hand, flushing as he slowly moved around to stand beside her. And then she felt the brush of his breath in her ear.

“That’s it… You’re a little jealous, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

Chapter 10 ~ The Fire

“Of course not,” Shea muttered, shaking slightly at the sound of his voice so close behind her. The heat of his body that radiated to hers.

“See, I don’t think it’s all about the ski hill. I think there’s something else going on here,” Rhys huskily said in her ear. Shea’s breath caught in her throat and her pulse raced. He pulled slightly at her arm, and she slowly turned around, first focusing on the woven pattern of the thermal shirt he wore. Her eyes rose to the neckline where a faint sprinkling of hair could be seen. Then up to the deep blue of his eyes, almost black in the low light. He stood so close to her. Towering over her. "The thing is, honey, I think you kind of like me," Rhys murmured as the flickers of firelight danced in the darkness around them.

She scoffed at him, rolling her eyes. "You? Just because you're all like hot and sexy with your broad shoulders and dark hair and blue eyes.” She purposefully kept her eyes turned to the side, her last bit of armor against his nearness, but was unable to keep her gaze from his for long. Keep it together, Shea. He’s only a man. An unbelievably gorgeous, God-like man, but a man nonetheless. With increasing effort, she looked up at him attempting to convey disdain. “I mean, yes, you're gorgeous. But every chick in this town has been making goo-goo eyes at you since you got here.” She dropped her gaze to his chest. It didn’t really help, but it felt safer than looking him in the eye. “I've never been one to get caught up in the latest fads."

"So, then," he moved a little closer, obliterating her personal bubble, causing her body to tighten with want. A whiff of soap and pine and fresh air hit her senses, and, without meaning too, as though it were completely against her will, she inhaled deeply, infusing his presence in her mind. "What you're saying is that you don't like me?" He tipped her head back up, his eyes only inches from hers, the steady blue depths holding her captive.

Her voice caught in her throat as she attempted to drop her gaze. Oh, there were those lips. Oh my. Her mind flashed to the kisses they’d shared. The soft brush of his tongue that had coaxed her breath away. The way he had cupped his hands around her face. And he was so close again. A slight arch up onto her toes and she could taste his kiss once more.

His fingers brushed against her hip, skimming the waist of her pants beneath her thin sweater. A slight tremor quaked through her as she breathed out a soft gasp.

"Is that what you're saying, sweetheart? You don't like me? You don't want me?" His voice was deep and thick with the same desire that burned in his blue eyes.

"I don't want to want you," she murmured desperately. "You're trouble for me."

He nodded, and his thumb slipped under the hem of her sweater, grazing the bare skin low on her stomach just above the low waistline of her pants. The faint touch wrenched a gasp from her lips. "Well, I think we're kinda fucked, then. Because I don't want to want you either." His lips lowered towards hers slowly, and he stopped a hair's breadth away. With every word he breathed into her, each nerve ending in her body began to come alive. "But I'm afraid I do anyway."

The first touch of his lips was soft, gentle, almost magical. Barely a touch, yet electrifying and powerfully magnetic. A whisper of a kiss that ghosted across her lips. His hands moved from her hips to migrate around her waist, gently urging her to press more fully against him. But then it changed, and… Oh my goodness.

He slanted his head to claim her lips, to plunder and seduce. A groan erupted from deep in her chest and her shaking fingers traced the thick muscles of his biceps and shoulders. Up into his hair that curled so slightly over the edge of his collar. Her breathing grew choppy and rushed. His body forced her back a step until she was up against the counter with his hard length pressed almost painfully against her. It had been so long since anyone had really, truly touched her. And there had never been anyone like him.

"Fuck, you're so damn sweet... I just want to devour you," he murmured as his lips trailed along the curve of her jaw to pull her earlobe between his teeth, the rough scrape of his unshaven chin leaving a tingling path in its wake. Her head arched back, drawing him down her neck to nip at her collarbones. "Why does it have to be you that does this to me?"

"This is a bad idea, you know," she exhaled with a shaky breath. "This has the potential to really fuck things up."

"I know," he mumbled against her skin as his lips traveled up the side of her neck inching their way back to her own. "But, right now, I don't really care..."

"Me either," she whispered as she stretched against him, aching for another kiss. Their mouths fused together, and the need to get closer coursed through her. Of their own accord, her arms tightened over his shoulders as her body molded into his. Every taste and caress ignited her need that much more.

His fingertips gripped her roughly, digging at her ribs, causing her sweater to ride up and reveal the soft skin underneath. A vibration ran through her body, up through her arms, and her fingers gripped wildly against the solid muscle of his shoulders. A moan rumbled through his chest. The knowledge that he was affected like she was set her on fire.

Her fingertips boldly gathered the soft fabric of his thermal, tugging the shirt up to bare the smooth, hot skin of his abs and back. His hands released her for just a moment to allow her to pull it over his head, but his hips held her steady, his throbbing length pressing her against the counter. She drew back to look at the hard, defined chest before her, and her fingertips lightly caressed his pectorals and down his ribs. They explored the dusting of dark hair that covered his sculpted muscles and then gave a little tug.

With a deep moan, he slid his hands deep into her hair and fiercely guided her mouth back to his. His grip held her forcefully and his tongue ran along the edge of her teeth, coaxing hers into his mouth. Breathlessly, she followed his lead, aching and smoldering with want. Her lips pulled away for a moment to suck a deep breath into her lungs, and Rhys devoured the tender skin of her neck before roughly capturing her mouth again.

My God! What was she doing? This wasn’t like her at all.

Rhys began to slide one strong hand down her back, pressing her against him boldly as he explored the curve of her ass at the base of her spine. The thick muscles in his arms tensed with a fiery need, pulling the desperation from deep inside her. The heat of his bare chest scorched her, but she only wanted to be closer, to be a part of him.

His other hand left her hair and joined the first, reaching for the bottom of her sweater and lifting it up over her head. The sensation of having her skin bare before him inflamed her desire. The touch of his fingertips on her bra clasp wrenched a desperate gasp from her lips. A quick flick of his wrist, and her bra was lying on the floor.

He pushed her torso back onto the cool slate of the counter, keeping his hips tightly pressed against hers as he curved her backwards. His hands held her arms down tightly against the cool surface, trapping her and holding her immobile while his teeth grazed the bony prominences of her ribs. Slowly, his callused fingers began to move along her arms, across her shoulders. Goosebumps immediately rose again all over her body, both from the chill at her back and the intense heat of his strong, rough hands slowly working their way towards the soft fullness of her breasts. Her nipples ached, painfully tight, and every muscle in her body seemed to vibrate with the need for him to touch her. The rough pads of his fingers skimmed down her sides as he gazed at her below him with a fiery intensity.

“Jesus Christ, you’ve got gorgeous tits, sweetheart,” Rhys breathed heavily. Shea trembled at the fierce sound of his voice and the crude seduction of his words. “I’ve been dying to get my hands on you since the night you found me in the snow.”

Shea closed her eyes. He was so fucking beautiful standing before her, pressed against her, staring down at her. It was too much, it was almost painful. Tormenting and forceful. With a savage intensity, his mouth fell upon her, his hands gripping, and she felt the warm wetness of his tongue at the peak of her breast. A loud cry ripped from her throat as his tongue roughly laved over the hard nipple. He drew on it deeply, and her fingernails dug into the skin on his arms as her entire body tightened. The intensity of his touch pulled her torso high, arching her back.

“Fuck,” she sobbed. “Rhys…”

His mouth was magic as he licked and sucked and nipped at her breast.

“Oh, fucking hell, smooth and soft and sweet,” he murmured against her sensitive skin as his hand rose to massage the other breast, kneading it firmly and pinching at the nipple ever so slightly. Every pull of his lips increased her desperation, caused her temperature to rise. Made her body tremble with a frantic desire for more. Her fingers threaded through his thick, dark hair and held him close as he continued to worship her breasts.

Suddenly, he straightened, pulling her up with him. His hands slipped down to the curve of her ass and he lifted her up to sit on the counter before him. Even sitting up at that height, she was barely taller than him, but this stance gave her a sense of power over him. His hands slid up her bare back, his fingers gripping fiercely and pulling her towards him. Shea’s head lolled back on her shoulders as his lips ducked to lightly bite at the skin all around her taut nipples, leaving them aching, teasing them with his hot breath. Her hands clasped his head, fingers twisting in his hair, as she tugged him closer in an attempt to guide his lips back to her aching buds. He resisted, instead choosing to explore the sensitive skin just underneath.

“Dammit, Rhys…” she breathed. “God, you’re killing me.”

Rhys’ lips left their torment, and he lifted his passion-filled gaze. The feral look in his eyes took her breath away, his pupils wide in the low firelight. His hand reached up to slip along her jaw, his thumb resting just in front of her ear and his fingers firmly tangling in her hair along the base of her skull. Only a few moments, yet it seemed like an eternity, he gazed at her, as if he were battling something deep within himself. Finally, unable to resist, Shea closed the space between them, bringing her mouth back to his. She feasted on his lips frantically and sucked at his tongue with abandon, clutching at his shoulders.

Whatever seemed to stall him broke free, and, somehow both forcefully and gently all at once, he pushed her back to lie on the counter before him, scooting her back slightly but allowing her calves to dangle over the side of the counter. His hand skimmed down the smooth skin of her stomach to the buttons of her jeans. A slight pause, and then he ripped them open and drifted his fingers down to tease along the bare skin of her mound. With a sharp gasp, Shea’s feet pressed against the cupboards below the island, gaining purchase as her hips lifted. Her body was aching for more as he continued to toy with her, grazing her skin with his fingertips.

“Mmmm… I want that pussy, sweetheart,” he moaned into her mouth, tugging at her lower lip with his teeth.

“Yes,” she gasped. “Oh please, Rhys…”

Rhys’ hand slipped to the bony prominence of her hip, and his other hand slid to the other side. He slowly began to push her jeans and panties down, and the coarse scrape of denim along her highly sensitized skin wrenched a groan from deep inside her. He worked at a tortuously slow rate, using the jeans themselves to caress her skin and fan the flames of her need. His lips trailed along behind his hands, gently biting at her, sucking at her skin. As he finally pulled them from her feet, his strong hand raised one leg slightly. His lips teased the arch of her foot with a little nip.

Shea had never felt this crazed with want before. This was insane!  She was spread out before him like a feast, completely bare-ass naked on the kitchen counter. His lips slowly caressed and nibbled their way up her ankle, along her calf, the inside of her thigh, she could feel every muscle in her body tense and release. Shock waves coursed through her, tightening her deep inside, building her ache. His lips finally reached the apex of her thighs, and he nuzzled her mound with his nose, scenting her, breathing in deeply. His fingertips trailed along her inner thigh, pushing her legs apart, opening them even farther for his pleasure.

“Beautiful… fucking beautiful…” he muttered at the sight before him before his mouth took possession of her wet heat.

Shea’s voice rang out in the quiet of the room as his lips began to taste her, his tongue delving deep inside, drinking her in. Shea arched below him, her arms reaching above her head to grab the edge of the countertop.

Rhys simply devoured her, his lips trailing up to the tight, swollen bud of her clit. He swirled his tongue around it with a heady pressure, then sucked lightly. Every touch of his lips, every brush of his tongue tightened Shea’s growing knot of nerves. All too quickly, her entire body began to tremble and convulse, and then shatter into an explosion of sobs and fiery waves. The tremors coursed through her body as his thick fingers slipped inside her, filling her and roughly pumping into her, pulling even more of the shocking, wracking jolts from her.

Rhys suddenly straightened, pulled her naked, trembling form off the counter and lifting her tightly against him. He quickly walked them towards the large couch in front of the fireplace and laid her against the soft microfiber fabric.

His lips plundered hers again. The scent and the taste of her orgasm on him surrounded her, and her taste buds tingled for more with every brush of his tongue. Her just-sated body caught fire again, and her hands slipped down the rippling muscles of his abs to desperately reach for the fly of his jeans.

Rhys braced himself above her, his hands holding her head steady with his elbows at her sides. As she fumbled with the buttons of his jeans, he raised his hips so she could push them down, freeing his hot, hard length. His size and hardness pulled a needy gasp from her lips. Her hands immediately grasped him, her prize, and he groaned loudly. She couldn’t wait any longer.

“Fuck, Rhys… I need you… now…”

“I need to grab a condom, baby,” he whispered against her lips.

“No… please. I’m safe. I’m on the pill, and I’m clean. I trust you.”

With those words, Rhys seemed to stall, to freeze for a moment. Shea began to nip and suck at his neck as her hips tilted up to meet the weeping tip of his cock, and her hands slid around behind, to pull him to her. The first touch of him at her wet and aching core wrenched a sharp cry from her lips.

“Fuck! Rhys, please… please…”

And then he was filling her, stretching her, claiming her. Shea cried out sharply as he slid in to the hilt, and they both stopped moving for a moment to relish the feel of their connection.

“Fucking Christ, Shea…” Rhys whispered brokenly as his lips once again found hers.

He raised his hips slightly, slowly rubbing along her inner channel, setting fire to a whole new set of nerves inside her. Shea tilted her hips to allow him greater access to the depths of her core, and he slowly, rhythmically began to slide in and out, as though he couldn’t bear to miss a second of the sensation. The tortuous pressure of his thick length filled her, pulled at her center, and her hands slid up his back, her nails digging into his skin.

He rose slightly on his elbows to look down at her, and the low firelight flickered across his features. His eyes looked so dark, his lids hooded with desire, his jaw clenched with the need he was holding back. The beauty, the sight of his warm skin and the depth of his gaze touched her as deeply as the motion of his thick length inside her, and her body constricted around him. A deep throaty moan emanated from his throat, and she felt his cock jump inside her as he continued the slow and steady motion.

The pressure of her promised release began to build, the fullness of him as he rubbed along her most sensitive spot began to make her tremble and tighten.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” Rhys murmured as he looked down at her. “You’re getting close, aren’t you?”

“Rhys,” Shea whimpered. “Faster… harder…”

Rhys lifted up a little higher on one arm as he gripped her hip bone forcefully with the other, holding her hips steady, and he began to pound into her rapidly. He was like a machine, pistoning in and out of her, building the pressure inside her with every slap of their skin.

“Oh fuck, Shea,” Rhys groaned. “Feel me, squeeze me and hold me inside your hot little pussy.”

Already on the edge, his ragged words triggered her fierce orgasm, a deep and throbbing explosion that she felt clear to her fingertips and toes. Her desperate cry and shaking body ripped his own release from him, and he collapsed on her with a deep groan as he flooded her depths with a hot wash of his seed.

“God, Shea…” he exhaled against her neck. “Fuck…”

Slowly, the quiet of the cabin, the crackling of the fire before them, softly came back into focus. Rhys could barely believe the heaven he’d just experienced. His face was buried in the sweet scent of Shea’s neck, and he never wanted to move. Ever. He wanted to stay here, right fucking here, for the rest of his fucking life.

Inside her, still feeling the soft, tight heat of her grasping him with spasmodic little jerks.

Feeling her body shivering with tremors, milking him of everything he had.

The warmth of the fire against his skin, against hers.

He raised his head slightly to look down at her, her eyes heavily sated with contentment and exhaustion. Her skin glowed golden in the flickering light and the curls of her hair spread across the couch below her.

This was too much.

This wasn’t okay.

He had a job to do, and he had totally lost himself in her. He should leave, now. Before he hurt her. Before he felt any more than he did right at that moment. Because, right then, he couldn’t bear the thought of what he was here to do.

He should leave. He should get up and walk out. He should tell her the truth about why he was there, and she’d throw him out.

This was too much…

But, instead, he softly kissed her lids as they drifted closed. He lightly kissed the gasp from her lips as he pulled out of her wet heat. He wrapped his arms heavily around her and shifted to lay on his side, pulling her close to his pounding heart. Reaching up to the back of the couch behind him, he pulled the quilt down over them. Her nose nuzzled against the dusting of hair on his chest, and his lungs tightened.

He should tell her.

He should leave.

He really should leave.

But he didn’t… he couldn’t.

Shea shivered and nestled into the warmth of Rhys’ arms. His scent was all around her, that of pine and fresh air. And the scent of the explosive passion between them. Glancing over at the fire, she noticed it had died down to only a few coals. She watched their red glow wax and wane in the darkness of the hearth, hypnotizing her for a moment with a ghostly dance.

Gently pulling herself from the heat of Rhys’ body, she sat on the edge of the oversized couch, pulling a smaller throw from the other side. She wrapped it around her body and gathered underneath her arms to cover her nakedness. Taking a few steps across the chilled wooden floor in front of the fireplace, she reached for a chunk of wood, selecting a split piece that had lots of small shards of wood poking out.

Tiptoeing back to the hearth, she sat before the coals, softly laying the firewood on them and blowing to feed oxygen to the starving fire. After a few moments, flames began to creep up across the split pine, dancing along the shards and discoloring everything in their wake.

Shea sat for what seemed like forever, absorbing the heat from the growing blaze as the room began to flicker back into existence. The wood cracked and popped as the fire settled, and she heard the rustle of the blankets behind her.

Slowly she turned to see Rhys leaning up on his elbow, watching her as the flickering light danced across her skin and filtered through her hair. His expression seemed hard to read with the shadows around him, his dark hair was tousled and hanging in his eyes. Her fingers tingled as she remembered the sensation of her hands in that hair, on his hot skin. Images from a few hours before began to filter through her mind, causing her heart rate to quicken and goosebumps to rise all down her arms.

Then he rose, wrapping the soft quilt around his hips as he stood, and walked towards her. He settled behind her on the ledge of the hearth, enveloping her in his warm, strong arms. His nose nuzzled into her hair before he settled his chin on her shoulder, his soft breath softly caressing the sensitive skin behind her ear.

Shea curled back against him, melting into his embrace, and the two sat like that, watching the flames. Finally, Rhys spoke.

“We really need to talk,” he began.

Shea swallowed hard. “I don’t want to,” she whispered back quickly.

“Shea, something happened here tonight. This makes things complicated. You have no idea how complicated.”

“No,” she continued to stare ahead, not looking at him, but resting her head more firmly on his shoulder. “This is just… this. Tonight. It’s not forever. It’s not life-altering. You’re not staying.”

Rhys frowned down at her. “Shea—”

“No, Rhys,” she turned slightly to face him. “Tonight was beautiful, but I’m a realist. I know this isn’t happily ever after. I don’t believe in fairy tales. Tomorrow, we just go back to… whatever. In a few days, you leave. It’s done. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Shea, sweetheart, there’s something more going on here.”

“But there’s not. There can’t be. You know that. You’re not staying here. You’re here to do your report, and then you’ll be gone.”

Rhys ducked his gaze. “But that’s—“

Shea’s fingers pressed against his lips, hushing his argument. “Rhys, all I want is right now. I want to sit here with you in the firelight. I want you to kiss me and to hold me.” She lowered her voice and whispered, “I want you to fuck me.”

Rhys stared at her with a hot, conflicted look, warring a battle within himself. He shook his head, “Shea—” he uttered with a pained voice.

Abruptly, Shea turned in his arms, rose up before him tossing her blanket to the floor. Her hands tangled in his hair as she stood, completely unashamed, as though the flickering light infused in her an awesome confidence.

“Fuck me, Rhys,” she whispered, and kissed him hard. Her arms wound around his neck and she melted into him.

Rhys groaned as his hands gripped her hips. Shea could feel him giving in, giving up. His lips began to press more firmly against hers as his tongue sought entrance into her mouth. Her fingernails scraped against the rough, short almost-beard of his jaw, and the shudder she felt run though him brought a deep aching desire to blossom in her depths.

Raising her head, she looked back down at him, still sitting on the hearth ledge before her. Shea slid her hand around into his hair and tugged his face closer to her bare breasts, feeling a thrill course through her as his warm breath began to tease the sensitive skin.

“Please, Rhys,” she whispered down to him. “I ache. I burn. Don’t talk. Please… just taste me.”

Rhys leaned forward a fraction of an inch to catch her nipple in his hot mouth. Shea’s head fell back, and the cry that leapt from her throat echoed throughout the expanse of the peaked roof above. The tugging of his lips, the nip of his teeth. Within seconds, she was writhing with the ferocious need to please him.

She took a step back, lowering to her knees on the floor before him. Her hands reached for the blanket that hid his throbbing hardness from her, and she gasped as she uncovered her prize. She licked her lips as she glanced up at him with a sensual smile. His stare rocked her soul, the need so clearly reflected in his eyes that pierced through the dark. Looking back down at his length, she lowered her head.

The first taste was strange, earthy, rich. Her own scent mingled with his, her own flavor still on him. Pressing her tongue flat against the base, she slowly licked up to the tip before pulling him inside her mouth. A taste of salty precum flooded her taste buds, and she moaned as she lowered her lips back down to the root.

“Oh fuck, Shea…” Rhys groaned. “Your mouth… Your hot little tongue. Oh fucking hell. That’s… Oh…”

Running her tongue along the underside of his cock, her lips nipped at the ridge of his head. She laved and caressed him, relishing in the smoothness of his skin and the hardness of his thick length. She pulled him deep, opening her mouth even wider to allow him to push farther in, and the touch of him in the back of her throat made her hot core compress tightly, aching to be stroked. Unable to wait for him and crazed with need, her own hand slipped down her stomach, slipping into her wet folds, gently rubbing firm circles around her swollen clit.

“Oh, yeah, sweetheart… play with your pussy,” Rhys whispered.

“Do you like that?” Shea whispered against the smooth skin of his hard cock. “Do you like when I touch myself there?”

“Jesus… fuck… fucking hot.”

Shea’s eyes fluttered open and she met his gaze, looking up at him as she continued to work her lips up and down his hard shaft, her fingers working her own sex into a rapidly building ferocity. His features grew harsh as he watched her bring herself towards a heady climax. As the pressure built inside her, she began to lick and blow against him, losing control. The tightness coiled within, and suddenly she erupted into shaking, shuddering convulsions.

Rhys instantly pushed her to the blanket that lay on the floor. Grasping her knees, he pulled them roughly, scooting her closer. A slight burn from the blanket as it rubbed against her skin, and then he was plunging inside her, stretching her, deeply penetrating her wet center. The orgasm that was ebbing away began to rebuild. Shea felt her muscles grasp his thick cock, luxuriating in the feel of him rubbing against her vaginal walls, pushing far into her swollen folds and bringing her explosive orgasm back to full force.

“Oh, you feel so good, sweetheart. So hot and wet. So tight.” Rhys reached for one of her ankles, pulling it up to his shoulder, and the new sensation caused her to squeeze down upon him. “Fuuuuuuuck, yeah… clamp down on me,” he breathed out with short labored gasps. “Shea… I can’t hold it…”

The tremors that wracked her body reached a violent level, and she felt a thick, hot wash of his cum shoot into her depths, sending her once again over the edge into an abyss of sensation. Sobbing and shaking and gasping. Her heart rate raced and eyes shut tightly as he collapsed on top of her, his own heart pounding and his breath rushing against her ear.

As the world came back into focus, Shea slowly became aware of the hard floor at her back and the weight of him above her. Attempting to draw a breath, her chest felt constricted. The struggle to take in air roused Rhys enough that he lifted up above her a little, putting his weight on his elbow.

Able to breathe deeply, Shea did just that, sucking the oxygen into her lungs as her head lolled on the floor. Every muscle in her body was spent. She felt completely boneless, soft and unable to move. Rhys shifted to his knees, lifting both her and the blanket into his arms, and stood to carry her back over to the couch. He tucked her along the back, then she watched as he turned, beautifully nude, to place another piece of wood on the fire, a thick log that would burn slowly throughout the remainder of the night.

Shea watched the shadows of the firelight as they danced across his corded muscles. His bronze skin glowing with a fine sheen of sweat. Stoking the fire slightly to ensure the new log would burn, he then placed the screen on the hearth, returning to lie beside her on the large couch. As he pulled her tightly into his arms, he breathed a heavy sigh. He kissed her forehead and nuzzled his face into her hair.

“Shea, we really should talk about this…” he said softly.

“No. It will just ruin it. Sleep… we really need to sleep,” she yawned heavily and closed her eyes as she curled into his embrace.

Chapter 11 ~ The Morning

Rhys awoke to a quiet room, with an occasional thwacking sound coming from outside. Lifting his head, his eyes focused on the fireplace hearth where he’d sat…

…last night…

…where Shea wrapped her lips around his cock and sucked him off.

Fuck. As hot as it was last night, he knew this was bad.

He could still feel her nails cutting into the skin of his back. He could taste her soft, sweet skin. He could hear her breathy cries.

And, just like that, he was hard as a fucking rock. Again.

And he was a guilty prick. A guilty prick with a job to do. As much as he hated to do it.

Rhys exhaled forcefully, throwing his head back on the couch pillows. His hand brushed up against his stiff arousal, and his eyes drifted closed, wanting to go back to last night with her softness cradling him so deep inside. His fingers grasped his length firmly. He ached to bury himself in her again. She was addictive.

This shit shouldn’t bother him. He’d played this role a thousand times, it seemed. He’d never felt the angst until now. She just seemed so… real. So genuine. She gave and she didn’t want anything back from him.

Or did she? The unwanted thought rattled through his consciousness. She knew he was here to do a study, and the study had the power to exploit her little town. To ruin everything she loved about it. And, for someone who didn’t want anything to last, she sure did go all out the night before. She hadn’t been very hesitant at all. She’d been fearless and wild.

Fuck me, Rhys…

Taste me…

Maybe she was playing him, too.

Rhys sat up, tucking the blanket around his waist, then reached for his pants where they lay by the couch. As he pulled his clothes back on, he glanced around the small cabin. In the space between the living area and kitchen was a computer desk. Papers were strewn across it, and her laptop sat open.

He could hear the repetitive thwacking sound continuing outside, occasionally a muffled crack, the sound of someone chopping wood, his sleep-clouded brain began to realize. Just to be sure she wasn’t in the house, he called out.

“Shea?”

Nothing, and he said it a little louder.

“Shea?”

Still nothing. Rhys crossed over to the desk, feeling as though he was slinking. He brushed aside the guilt, forcing frustration in its place. Her own refusal to discuss any meaning to this, what had happened last night, fueled his grating resolve as he sifted through the papers on the desk. A few bills, nothing really significant.

His hand touched the mouse, and the computer screen lit up displaying her email. Rhys felt a thrill run through him at the sight of a few emails with the subject line of ‘land dispute.’ He clicked one open, scrolling through the long chain. Emails back and forth between Shea and a man by the name of Dennis Frankforter… Attorney at Law in the nearby town of Polson. Emails about a dispute on the title of her land. Rhys read on as the whole scenario played out.

It seemed that there was fella who, through a glitch in paperwork, was maybe the actual owner of the land her grandfather had built the cabin on so long ago. This man hadn’t really left much of a will when he passed on, more of just some sort of informal document that essentially left everything to his adult son, Buddy. But Buddy had recently discovered that he had a legitimate claim if he chose to pursue it.

Buddy wasn’t really in favor of the resort. However, he could come away with a pretty penny on it if he were able to prove his claim. At the very least, if the courts went his way, she would likely end up having to pay rent. The lawyer was reassuring Shea that Buddy was a good guy, though, and had given a verbal agreement to not sell out to McHugh. And he would ensure that any lease Shea might have to pay would be fair. Rhys could see in the emails that Shea was obviously stressed about the possibility of the added expense, but she seemed to think it was doable with some sacrifice.

But the verbal agreement not to sell?

It was a simple agreement. No signed papers. Nothing to really bind this tentative handshake. With a little pressure and the right incentive, this could be their opening.

The motherfucking jackpot that McHugh needed.

Rhys paused for a moment, a nagging sense of dread in the back of his mind, in the depths of his gut. He shouldn’t do this. And then, a snippet of last night filtered back into his memory. Sitting by the fire…

Shea, sweetheart, there’s something more going on here…

Hearing the determination in her response.

There’s not…

There can’t be…

With a grimace and a sick feeling in his gut, Rhys quickly forwarded the email to himself.

Then, feeling like a complete and utter asshole, he slipped on his boots, shrugged on his coat, and walked out into the crisp mountain morning. He could see Shea in the woodshed, splitting firewood, a large pile of split timber growing larger. For a short moment, he just watched her.

She was so small, but so very strong as she raised the ax, bringing it down with an increasing speed onto the logs below her. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and sweaty tendrils cascaded down her neck, highlighting the delicate curve. For a good four or five swings of the ax, he was mesmerized. Awed by the power in her swing, the pull of the firm muscles beneath her thermal shirt. His fingertips tingled as though they could feel the tight little body beneath him even now.

She had such soft curves around her hips, and her breasts were… fucking delicious. And her waist and arms were well-toned, likely due to this form of daily exercise.

If this is what lumberjack women were like, Rhys was pissed at himself for not getting with one sooner.

Finally, Shea sunk the ax into the chopping block and reached an arm up to wipe the perspiration from her brow. At that moment, she saw him standing at the bottom of the porch steps. Her flushed cheeks, both from the exertion and the chill in the air, glowed bright, and the hazel color of her eyes was highlighted by the thicket of pines behind her. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips, pink and soft. Her chest rose and fell heavily as she worked to catch her breath.

“Hey,” she softly said as she turned to pick up some wood and stack it along the wall in the shed.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” he replied.

Shea’s shoulders stiffened at his endearment. For a split-second, she froze.

But then, as though she hadn’t even been affected in the first place, she continued with the wood. Rhys walked over to her, reaching down to pick up a few pieces, handing them to her as she turned. Shea’s eyes never rose past his chest. She couldn’t seem to look at him straight on, and his chest tightened with an aching confusion. Shea released a deep breath and laid the last of the wood on the pile, then turned to look at the driveway.

“So, I have a bunch of shit to do today,” she said softly, tucking her hands into the back pockets of her jeans. The motion pushed her breasts out and made his mouth water, even with the torment of her unreadable expression. “There’s some coffee in the kitchen, and, if you’re hungry, there’s some rolls on the counter.” She turned her face towards him, but didn’t lift her gaze. “Don’t feel like you have to rush off or anything, but I need to get going, so just make sure the door’s shut behind you when you leave. Make sure Wolfie’s inside.”

Rhys felt the frustration inside him building. She was cutting him loose. After last night, which was hands down the best sex he’d ever had, she was pushing him away.

He wasn’t going to make this that easy on her, though.

“You should have dinner with me,” he suggested.

“What?” Shea’s eyes shot up to his, her brow furrowed and aggravated.

“Dinner… you know. Sitting at a table. Eating. Talking. Together.”

Shea took a deep breath and released it slowly, wetting her lip with a flick of her tongue. “Rhys, I don’t think that’s a very good idea.”

“I wasn’t really asking you,” Rhys said with a cocky grin. “I was telling you.”

That fire instantly lit in her eyes. My God, she was sexy, even in old jeans and snow boots.

“Uhhh… no. It doesn’t really work that way,” she argued.

“Sweetheart, I’m just not done with you yet.”

He saw her tremble at the seductive rasp of his voice.

“Rhys, we talked about this…”

“No, we didn’t. I wanted to, but we didn’t. You didn’t. You went to sleep.”

“And, what? Your feelings are hurt?” Her eyes grew stormy with anger. “Oh my God, you sound like a girl,” she threw at him tersely.

Rhys’ jaw clenched. This woman could be infuriating sometimes!  He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could get a word out, she started up again.

“You don’t get it. This… last night… this was one time only.”

“Why? Why can’t this happen again? I think you enjoyed yourself, sweetheart, and I’d like nothing more than to sink down inside you over and over again.”

Her breath caught and she shivered before voice lowered and she looked away. “Honestly, I don’t want to miss you when you leave. And I’m afraid I already might.”

Rhys’ shock kept him silent. He hadn’t expected that. Nor had he expected the pull to his gut that her words had caused.

“I love my life, Rhys. I love my solitude and my dog and my quiet little cabin back in the mountains. I love not depending on anyone, not needing anyone. I want things to be the same for me after you’re gone.”

With that, she walked to her truck and climbed in.

“Just make sure it’s all closed up when you leave,” she repeated softly over her shoulder before she closed the pickup door.

And then she drove away.

The guilt he had felt earlier began to swell. The knowledge of the email. The look in her eyes just now. She had looked sincere, pained. Acting, Rhys, he told himself to try and alleviate the sour feeling in his stomach. She’s acting. She knows what you can do. She’s playing on your sympathies.

But what if she wasn’t?

Chapter 12 ~ The Dress

Fucking hell, Shea thought to herself as she caustically flipped through the dresses on the rack. Who the fuck has time for this, anyway?

The annual library fundraiser was that night. Shea hated going. It was bound to be either couples or sex-starved singles, and she had no desire to mix with either group, really. Ever.

Shea had avoided the last few years. But Michelle had begged and pleaded, claiming she wouldn’t have any fun if Shea didn’t go. Claiming they could sit off to the side and make fun of everyone’s clothes and awkwardness in the alcoves of the library. Michelle had to go. In an effort to escape the sometimes oppressive joys of mommyhood, she volunteered at the small-town library once or twice a week. As a volunteer, her presence was more or less mandatory.

And, of course, Shea had nothing remotely suitable to wear. Her wardrobe consisted almost entirely of jeans, t-shirts, and sweaters, and she hadn’t attended any sort of semi-formal event in Snowcreek since her senior prom.

At one time, just out of high school when she was married, she’d had a few fancier things. But they were all so outdated at this point, all ruffles and taffeta. As well, over the last couple years that she’d been back, her body had changed. Whereas married Shea had been a gym freak without an ounce of fat, desperate to retain her youthful figure to combat her husband’s wandering eye, she had softened of late. Her breasts had gotten fuller, and her ass… well, it had just gotten bigger. Dammit. That said, chopping wood was better than any type of exercise equipment. She still had the flat stomach and well-defined arms.

However, as a result of the more abundant curves filling out her figure and her complete distaste of trendy fashion, there was not a dress in her closet that would work. One or two could still be shimmied into and zipped closed, but they were way, way too tight. Wasn’t gonna happen.

The jingle of the door in the only clothing store in Snowcreek signaled another desperate patron looking for something to wear as Shea flipped through the racks. A dark sparkle caught her eye, and she held up a deep pomegranate-colored dress that flashed with sequins. And she loved the color and the scooped neckline that spread wide onto the shoulders with long, slender sleeves. Shea checked the tags. It wasn’t too expensive, and, yes, it was her size.

Then she turned it around to see the almost inconceivably low back that screamed hoochie-mama. She was never really one to show so much skin, and instantly wanted to put it back. But the light reflecting off the rich color and bits of sparkle transfixed her for a moment, and she actually genuinely considered it for a split-second. Rhys might be there. Her stomach tightened with remembrance of his heavy-lidded expression, the play of his muscles in the firelight only a few nights before… Despite the knowledge that she shouldn’t, she wanted that again. Badly.

What was she thinking? She began to hang the dress back on the rack when a heady, sexy voice stopped her dead in her tracks.

“Mmmmm… you should try that one,” Rhys said from behind her, almost as if she had conjured his voice from her thoughts.

Whirling around, she saw him standing only a few feet away, leaning onto the rack beside him. Instantly, her breath caught in her throat and her heart began to pound. My God, the man was delicious. He stood tall before her with his hand casually stretched out over the hangers on the rack as he tapped his fingers with a slow rhythm. The motion drew her eyes to his hand, the long curve of his fingers, the thickness of his forearm that protruded from the rolled-up flannel sleeve. Those hands had touched her skin so exquisitely. Those fingers has been deep inside her, stroking her, wrenching a deep wash of pleasure from her. Goosebumps rose across her entire body and a quiver ran through her, setting off a stirring ache inside.

She shook her head slightly to clear her mind and looked back to the dress. “It’s, um… not really something I’d normally wear,” she breathed out. “I don’t think it’s really very me.”

“Try it on… let me see.” His voice was like warm honey oozing over her, filling her pores with a delicious sweetness.

Distance. She had to keep her distance. She’d thought of nothing but him since the other night, and that… that was going to be trouble. In an attempt to remain aloof, she looked at him and scowled. “What are you doing in here, anyway? You know, they don’t sell man clothes here.”

Rhys only laughed at her obvious disgruntlement. “Well, it would appear it wasn’t a lack of sex that made you so grouchy before.”

Shea rushed forward to him, whispering furiously. “Would you please not go around talking about that? I still have to live here after you leave, you know.”

“You’re an adult, sweetheart,” Rhys said in a low voice as he reached up to brush the hair back from her face. “Sex isn’t a no-no at this point.”

Shea sucked in a deep breath at the gentle touch of his hand, and suddenly her senses were filled with the crisp pine scent that seemed to surround him. She shivered and dropped her gaze to study the plaid pattern of the soft flannel covering his broad chest.

“You should try it on, really. I’d like to see…” he said very quietly, for once seeming to respect her wishes for some semblance of privacy.

She lifted her gaze to study the blue eyes staring down at her. And, in that moment, she did want to try it. If for no other reason, than to see the look in his eyes when she was wearing real girl clothes. Just for a few moments, she wanted to feel sexy and desirable again.

Through surprisingly labored breathing, she murmured, “Okay,” and turned towards the narrow hallway that housed the dressing rooms. She could feel his eyes on her retreating form, almost as though he were touching her. A deep exhalation practically made her crumple bonelessly as she finally pulled the heavy curtain closed across the dressing room stall. For a moment, she stood still, her fist pressing the silky, sparkly dress to her chest.

Quickly pulling off her clothes, Shea debated the wisdom of slipping out of her bra, torn between the need for the security it provided and the knowledge that, with the low back on the dress, it really would not work. She removed it quickly and pulled the dress up over her hips, smoothing it up her body. She glanced in the mirror before her. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes snapped with a bright glint, set off by the deep, rich red wine color of the dress. She slid her arms through the sleeves, pulling the sparkling fabric up to rest just at the curve of her shoulders.

The dress really was something. Amazing. She felt stunning wearing it, even with her untamed, wavy hair and no make-up. The neckline pressed against the soft curve of her breast, only showing the prominence of her collarbones and just a hint of the softness below. The rich, deep burgundy sequins started in full at the top, slowly dissipating below the curve of her breasts to a light scattering of them below her hips. The flirty flare of the skirt ended just above her knees. Turning with a slight twirl, she saw the heavy plunge of the back, baring her almost down to the cleft of her ass. Christ… she’d only feel comfortable if she wore her coat all night.

Just outside the dressing room, she heard heavy footsteps, and then Rhys’ deep voice softly cut through the quiet of the room.

“So, sweetheart… How does it look?”

Oh Jesus… No…  There was no way that she could go anywhere in this dress. Especially anywhere that he would be. With the subtle hint of passion in his voice, her whole body was already on fire, her nipples felt tight under their sequined armor, and her bare back was so sensitive she could feel the brush of air from the heater vent above her dressing room stall.

“It, um...” Shea stammered breathlessly, “it doesn’t really fit.”

The curtain was thrown aside and Shea spun around as his large form entered the tight space. His eyes ignited at the sight of her before him, caressing her from the ample curve of her breasts, down her slender waist until they reached her bare feet. Then they flicked alongside her, looking at her reflection in the mirror, at the expanse of naked flesh revealed by the open back. “Fuck…” he muttered with a forced breath as his eyes flew back to hers.

For a moment, a moment that seemed to stop time, neither moved. A shaky breath finally escaped Shea, and, as though the faint sound broke his trance, Rhys took a step towards her, pulling the curtain closed behind him. He filled the small dressing room, forcing her to crane her neck up to him to keep contact with his eyes. His eyelids heavily lowered and his hand slipped up to cradle her jaw firmly.

“You look fucking gorgeous,” he whispered as his lips lowered to hers.

“Don’t—” Shea gasped, but the gasp became a moan as his lips touched hers.

The first touch of his tongue shook her as it slipped along her lips, asking for entrance into her mouth. His body pressed hard against hers, and she opened her lips wide to allow him in, to brush her own tongue. Rhys quite simply devoured her, roughly punishing her lips with the force of his kiss. One of his hands gripped tightly in her hair while the other rested against the bare skin of her back, the rough pads of his fingers scraping along her smooth skin and causing every microscopic hair on her body to stand on end.

And then his hand slipped down underneath the fabric that lay oh-so-low on her ass, slipping under the satin of her panties to knead the warm curves. His fingertips brushed against the cleft of her backside, drawing a shaky breath from her that transformed to a deep moan into his mouth.

“Shhhhh…” he whispered into the heady kiss. “You like that, don’t you? But, you’ve gotta be quiet, sweetheart, or someone might hear.”

Fuck! This was crazy!  Only a thick curtain maintained their privacy, and anyone outside could, and likely would, know exactly what was going on in here. Rhys’ hand slipped further down her ass rubbing slightly on the tight puckered hole. His other hand gathered the fabric at the front of the soft skirt until he could touch the bare skin of her hip, and from there traveled to slip between her thighs, to slip inside her panties and ever-so-slightly brush the wetness of her aching core.

Fuck it!

Shea’s hands tangled in his hair and pulled him to her roughly. His lips plundered hers, the smooth brush of his tongue set fire to her soul. She writhed in ecstasy as his fingers simultaneously breached her, the fingers of one hand plunging into her wet heat, and a single finger of the other dipping oh so slightly in the tightness of her ass. Shea instantly began to shake and tremble against him, crying out into his mouth.

“Shhhhh…” he warned against her lips again with a fierce whisper. “It’s only just a little curtain. Can you hear them out there?” He kissed her fiercely again. “You love that, don’t you? You love the feel of my finger in your ass with a store of customers right outside this little tiny room.”

Her hands tightened in his hair as she tried to keep any sound from leaving her throat. She pulled his lips harshly against hers, and he voraciously fed on her kiss, roughly pumping his thick fingers in her soaking wet pussy and more gently slipping into her back hole, massaging the deep tissues inside with both and making her shake.

“Fuck, I love your pussy…” he whispered as his lips trailed down her neck to lightly bite at her shoulder just under the shoulder of her dress. “And your ass… Fuck, Shea… So. Fucking. Hot.”

Tremors began to rip through her. She was so close. So fucking close to losing it in the fucking dressing room. This was wrong. She shouldn’t be here. Shouldn’t be doing this… especially not here… so publically where anyone could flip the curtain open and see.

And with that thought, she exploded against him, wetness drenching his hand as his lips returned to capture her moan. His fingers kept the motion, pulling every last shudder from her as she crashed through. Choppy breathing wracked her chest and she limply fell against him, her arms wrapped around his neck allowing him to support the full weight of her body. In a daze, she couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe. She was pretty sure her heart had stopped beating for a moment, and it thundered to catch up.

The faint sounds of the store outside the dressing room began to permeate her brain, and her eyes opened to see him staring down at her, the deep blue of his gaze molten with desire. With one hand still cupping her soft backside, his other hand slipped up to her bare back, softly caressing her tender skin with a smooth motion.

“Wear this one,” Rhys murmured.

“Rhys—” she breathed.

“Sweetheart, seriously. Wear this one.” His hand rose from her back to cup her cheek, to force her to meet his gaze, and Shea could smell the heat of her arousal on his fingers. “You really have to buy it anyway now,” he smiled. “I think there’s some kind of unwritten rule that, if you have an orgasm in a dress when you’re trying it on, you have to buy it.”

She inhaled deeply, still trying to get her bearings.

Rhys continued with a tender expression in his eyes. “And then you have to come to dinner with me tonight, before the library thing.”

“Is that part of the rule?” Shea whispered breathlessly.

“Yeah,” Rhys murmured as kissed her long and hard before pulling back slightly. “Dinner… tonight.”

“Okay,” Shea breathed. Her head felt weightless on her shoulders and she dropped her forehead to his firm, strong chest.

Rhys froze, then tipped her face up to look into her eyes with a devilish grin, cocking his eyebrow. “Oh my God, did you just… agree to go to dinner with me?” he joked.

Still floating in a cloud of passion, she could only nod.

“Six-thirty… I’ll pick you up at your place,” he stated.

“Rhys, I can meet you in town—”

He kissed her hard again, once again stealing her breath. “I’ll pick you up, sweetheart,” he murmured, “at six-thirty.” Then he lowered his lips back down to hers for one last quick kiss before he ducked through the heavy curtain and left the dressing room.

Chapter 13 ~ The Dinner

Shea stood in front of the bathroom mirror looking at the unfamiliar face before her. In a frenzy of nervousness, she had bought the dress and made a beeline for Michelle’s to elicit her help with make-up and hair.

Michelle had first looked astonished as Shea explained that she was going to dinner with Rhys. After picking her jaw up off the floor, she gave Shea a wide and all-too-knowing smile and pulled out her cosmetics, searching for a few items to loan Shea for the night ahead. A fine powder to dust over the delicate sprinkle of freckles on her nose. A wet eyeliner and a rich black mascara. A smoky eyeshadow for the crease with a soft, iridescent gleam for the lid. A pale lipstick that shone with a pearly glow.

Michelle had tweezed Shea’s eyebrows into submission and exfoliated her face with a heavy scrub. She painted her nails with a rich pomegranate shade that almost matched the dress, and dug through her closet for a pair of shiny black platform pumps with an extraordinarily high heel that Shea doubted she’d even be able to stand up in. Michelle just smiled and murmured something about making sure Rhys stayed close and she could lean on him.

That reminder of just who she was going to dinner with, what he had made her feel the other night and then again in the dressing room, almost paralyzed Shea. She was so out of control with him. It was frightening.

“I can’t do this,” Shea said, shaking her head and wringing her hands. “I’ll just cancel. I can’t go out with him.”

“Shea, yes you can.” Michelle grabbed her shoulders and looked her square in the eyes. “Just go…”

“Shell, he scares me,” Shea whispered.

Michelle only grinned widely. “Don’t be scared, buddy. Clowns are scary… Rhys, not so much.”

And now, here she stood. Makeup applied to the letter of Michelle’s instruction. Legs freshly shaved and smothered with a soft, buttery lotion that smelled like honeysuckle. Her hair was actually blow-dried, as opposed to just being thrown up in a clippy or left to air-dry, and fell in thick waves around her shoulders, tickling the bare skin of her back.

The deep burgundy color of the dress clung to her breasts, sparkling with flashes of light reflecting off the scattered sequins, and, for the first time in a long time, Shea felt a glimmer of pride in her appearance. She was a far cry from the country bumpkin that she tended to live as from day to day.

A deep, low bark from the living room brought Shea out of the small bathroom, and she saw Wolfie staring through the window with a slow wag of his tail. Not having anything but heavy winter gear, she slipped on her old hooded Carhartt coat and slid her feet into some soft, warm Sherpa boots. She threw a few items in a small clutch and grabbed her shoes, then opened the door to step out in the cold, dark wintery night.

Seeing her coming, Rhys jumped out of the driver side of the pickup and opened her door, catching Shea a little off guard. Chivalry wasn’t dead in this small town, but everyone tended to be quite casual about things, and, more often than not, it was muted at the very least.

A light snow was fluttering down around them as she looked up at Rhys from under her hood and said, “Thank you.”

He smiled gently down at her, a faint sparkle in his deep blue eyes that instantly made Shea feel a bit weak in the knees. “Anytime, sweetheart.”

Rhys helped Shea climb into the truck, and she buckled the seatbelt as he closed the door and rounded the other side. She suddenly felt inordinately shy as she watched him put the truck in gear and pull out of the driveway to head down the road. She was so aware of him, his presence filling the cab, making it almost hard to breathe. He was stunning, heart-stopping.

“So,” Rhys smiled over at her with a raised eyebrow, “considering there’s only one restaurant in this town, I hope steak is good with you.”

Shea chuckled softly. “Rhys, I’ve lived in small-town Montana almost my whole life. There’s nothing I’d rather have.”

As they pulled up in front of the Oxbow Steakhouse, Shea slipped off her heavy boots and slipped her feet into her shoes. Rhys rounded the pickup to open her door and help her from the truck. Even with the four-inch heels, which felt sky high in Shea’s opinion, Rhys still towered over her as she stood before him.

“I guess now I get to see if I can actually walk in these suckers,” Shea laughed quietly.

“No time like the present,” he chuckled, “but here. Feel free to hold onto me for a little added support. It is a bit slippery.” He tucked his arm around her slender waist, pulling her close, and Shea caught a whiff of his clean, heady scent. A ripple of longing coursed through her body.

Once inside, they found a quiet booth back in the corner of the restaurant. In the low light, Shea removed her coat and set it on the bench seat. As she turned to sit beside it, she glanced up to Rhys who had a strange expression on his face, almost shocked.

“What?” she asked self-consciously.

“You look… gorgeous,” he said. “Not that you don’t normally, but I’m a little… speechless.”

“Is that good speechless, or bad speechless?” Shea murmured with a slight smile.

“Um, good… but I’d kinda like you to stay in the corner tonight. I don’t want to have to kick anyone’s ass.”

Shea giggled, something she was pretty sure she hadn’t done in years. A light, girly giggle. Where the fuck did that come from? She shook her head and scooted onto the seat, watching him slide in across from her.

“Rhys, nobody’s going to want to fight you for me. I’ve known these people almost my whole life. There’s no unrequited love or anything.”

“You might be surprised, sweetheart,” he said wryly as he scrubbed his closely trimmed new beard. She was a little amazed at how fast it was growing, but she was also intrigued, remembering how the stubble had scraped her skin when he kissed and tasted her. The faint marks he had left on her neck, her breasts… her inner thighs.

“Whatever…” she dismissed.

“You really have no idea, do you?” he said as he leaned forward to capture her gaze.

“About what?” Her voice was thready and breathless. My God, it was hard to think straight when he looked at her that way. Her breath caught and her stomach quivered.

“How beautiful you are… You rendered me speechless when you first stripped off all your winter gear that night we met,” Rhys admitted a little begrudgingly. “And that doesn’t happen to me. Every time I see you, it just kind of hits me that much more. I'm catching on to you a little, though. I’m learning a few things. Like right now, I know you're kind of hot for me. The way you're breathing, sort of choppy and fast. The way your your tongue darts out to lick your lips.”

Nervously, Shea looked down to study her hands. With the polish on her nails, they seemed so foreign. This whole situation, everything he was saying, was so far from all she knew. She was so out of her element, unsure suddenly how to act or talk. She could almost hear his smile when he spoke again.

“And then you drop your gaze because you don't want me to see the fire burning in your eyes."

It was true. Everything he was saying about how she reacted to him. She kept her eyes lowered and attempted to calm her racing heart.

"Look at me, sweetheart," Rhys softly commanded. Shea's eyes clenched shut at first, then slowly opened and looked up at him. "I see it in you, right now. It's the same burn that's inside me." In the low light of their little corner, his eyes seemed so dark, a deep blue with a hint of warmth emanating through the intensity. “And this isn’t an everyday thing, Shea.”

“But does that really matter?” she asked quietly. “It doesn’t change the reality.”

Rhys knitted his brow thoughtfully as their waitress came over to get their order. Shea looked up and muttered a very unladylike, “Aw, shit,” at the young girl who appeared at the table. Rhys looked up.

Hmm, she looked relatively familiar. He’d met her at the store, and again at the bar. What was her name? Brittany? No, wait… Trinity. And her eyes were wide as she took in the sight of Shea and Rhys at the table before her.

“Um, hey… Shea…” and turning to Rhys, she flushed deeply. “Rhys… You guys are, like… on a date or something?”

Shea groaned and planted her forehead in her palm, causing Rhys to smile.

“Um, yeah… took me a while, but I finally talked her into dinner. Gotta feed her now and then, you know. I can’t just keep her tied to the bed all the time.”

Shea’s head shot up in shock, and Trinity looked as though she was about to faint.

“Shea,” Rhys continued as though he hadn’t just said anything remotely scintillating, “do you know what you’d like?” He looked over at her stunned expression. “New York steak or filet mignon? Or, what’s the special tonight?”

“Um…” Trinity gasped, “Prime rib.”

“Sounds good to me. How about you, sweetheart?” he grinned back over at her. She was still stunned, but he could see a flicker of anger beginning to burn in her eyes. God, she was fun to rile up.

“Prime rib is fine,” she said shortly. “And a Glacier Select Ale, please. No glass…”

Rhys nodded at her selection of the local microbrew. “Same for me, please.” He shot Trinity a smile as she rushed off to the kitchen.

“Why are you always doing that to me?” Shea demanded as soon as the young girl had left their table. “Is it like your goal in life to mortify me in front of that girl?”

Rhys chuckled and reached across the table for her hand, smoothing his fingertips over her painted nails. Remembering how these hands had clenched against his shoulders, tangled in his hair, stroked his cock. Beautiful little hands. “Honestly?”

“No, I want you to lie to me,” Shea sarcastically ground out. “What the fuck? Yes, honestly.”

“I love to see your eyes sparkle like they do when you get all feisty. The flush in your cheeks.” His voice lowered. “The way you draw in a deep breath and it pushes your tits out so beautifully. You’re incredibly sexy when you’re mad.”

Shea was stunned into silence for a minute. Her breathing stopped altogether. Rhys tugged at her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing her fingertips before pulling them into his mouth and sucking on them gently. Shea’s breath rushed out and then caught again, and her expression became sultry… wanting.

“Mmm…” he murmured. “You’re deliciously sexy, sweetheart. The way your breath hitches in your throat. I’ve been inside you enough to know what your pretty little pussy is doing when you make those gaspy sounds.” He sucked her fingers into his mouth once again. “Mmm… I can almost feel it.”

She licked her lips nervously and tried to pull her hand away, but Rhys refused to release it. His fingers laced together with hers and he tugged a little, pulling her forward so her breasts were pressed against the tabletop.

“The things you do to me… you have no idea. You fight it, although I can see that you want to give in. You put up a good front. But, when I’m deep inside you and you finally let go, it is so beautiful to see you come apart. Hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”

Trinity walked back over to their table with a two icy bottles of beer, and Shea yanked her fingers away from his to grab one, taking a long drink. Rhys was hypnotized by the way her mouth touched the top of the bottle, the way her tongue ran across her lips to catch a stray drop. She looked back up at him and he could see the intense tug-of-war inside her. She took another drink, keeping her eyes locked with his as she set the bottle back on the table with a lift of her chin.

Rhys smiled at the challenging attitude she put forth. “You just need to loosen up a little the rest of the time, sweetheart. You’re kind of a control freak, from what I can tell. It can’t be fun to be that constricted all the time.”

Crossing her arms over her chest in a defensive manner, she laughed. “I’m not a control freak.”

“Shea, you live all alone at the end of a rough mountain road and your roommate is a dog. From what I can tell, the only person that can ever get you to bend in the slightest is Michelle.” Rhys paused for a moment. “I’m just a little worried about you.”

“What? Worried?” Shea scoffed. “Rhys, I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time. I don’t need anybody to worry about me.”

“You have to have something else to live for. Everyone’s got that one place they dream of going to live. There’s got to be somewhere else you’d like to go.”

“I just want to be here,” she said. “I was out there once. It wasn’t a happy time. Things with Gavin were so tense. I was a liability, keeping him from the girl he really wanted. I was in the way.”

“What an asshole,” Rhys muttered. “He cheated on you?”

Shea shrugged. “He loved her.”

“Did you have anyone at all? Friends? Anyone you could turn to?”

“Everyone was here. My grampa. Michelle and Robert. It was pretty lonely. I didn’t really want to get to know anyone there. I didn’t feel like I was worth anything. I felt like, if people knew me, they’d see all my failures.”

“They weren’t your failures, Shea.” Rhys covered her hands with his, giving a comforting squeeze. “He was a dick to do that to you.”

Shea shook her head and caustically chuckled. “As a kid, I wanted so bad to leave, to get out in the world. And then, when I finally did, it was horrible. I’ve never felt so beaten down.” She took another sip of her beer, then stroked the bottle neck with her thumb, toying with the moisture collecting on the chilled glass. “I guess maybe I’m a little afraid to be anywhere else. Maybe that’s why I’m fighting this thing with McHugh so hard. I want my community to stay the way it is.”

“Things are gonna change. Even if the ski hill doesn’t go through, eventually things are going to change.”

“Slowly, maybe. Over time. In a way that people here can adapt.”

“What happens if this resort goes in?” he asked quietly. “What will you do? Have you got any kind of plan? McHugh’s a pretty powerful developer and a damn cutthroat in business. This may be a fight you can’t win.”

“I have to win,” she replied with conviction. “I can’t lose that place, Rhys.”

“But what if you do?” he urged.

Shea’s eyes narrowed at him. “Why? Do you know something?” she asked with a suspicious lilt to her voice.

Rhys schooled his features, hating himself at the moment. Here was his chance, his golden opportunity. He should tell her. Right now, he should just blurt it out. He knew McHugh, knew his tricks and tactics. Maybe he could stop it.

But maybe he could stop it anyway, and she’d never have to know. She’d never learn about his treachery. She’d never feel the sting of his betrayal.

And, in the end, he chickened out. Totally. Like a complete dickhead.

“It’s just something to think about, that’s all,” he finally replied.

At that moment, Trinity returned with their dinner. Shea was quiet and thoughtful as she took small bites. Rhys felt like he should say something to ease the discomfort lingering from their discussion. Something to bring back the fire in her eyes.

But, honestly, he was feeling kind of shitty himself at the moment.

Chapter 14 ~ The Library

Shea had never seen so many people at the library. It appeared that everyone in town had shown up. A section had been set aside so that even the kids could hang out, reading and playing, drinking Kool-Aid and supplementing their sugar rushes with plates of cookies.

She clung to Rhys’ arm a little apprehensively as they walked into the main room, a little wobbly from nervousness, a lot wobbly from the damn shoes she was wearing. Lorde’s husky, soulful voice floated throughout the room through a loudspeaker, and Rhys guided them to the refreshment table to get Shea a glass of champagne.

Shea was a little confounded by dinner. Rhys had the ability to make her cycle through emotions so fast that she almost felt schizophrenic. One minute, she felt warm and comforted by his presence, then she was shaking with need. The next moment, she was spitting nails. And a second later, she was suspicious and wary.

The rest of their dinner conversation had been fairly casual and light. Rhys talked a little about his dad in the Bitterroot, how the closure of the mill had changed so many things for him and that he was thinking about moving. Shea told a few stories about her and Michelle in high school, taking full credit for encouraging the blooming love affair between her and Robert that resulted in a quiet elopement right after they graduated.

In their quiet little alcove of the steakhouse, under the overtly watchful eye of Trinity, Shea had finally relaxed a little. She felt a certain ease around Rhys, in spite of the tumultuous, mercurial feelings he evoked within her.

But now, the apprehension choked her at the thought of people seeing them together at the library. Together. Not just sitting there having dinner, but actually mingling—something Shea abhorred anyway—as a couple. She silently cursed Michelle for the height of her heels, fearful that letting go of the steady support of Rhys’ arm would result in a wreck of magnificent proportion. She contemplated getting her snow boots from the car, and murmured this to Michelle when her friend gave her a welcoming hug.

Michelle only laughed. “Don’t even think about it. You’d be better off in a pair of jandals.”

“What the hell are jandals,” Rhys asked as Michelle walked away, “and why would you be wearing them?”

“It’s a kiwi-ism… New Zealand shit. She’s talking about flip-flops.” Rhys lifted a confused brow, so she quickly went on to explain. “I can barely walk in these fucking shoes. I haven’t worn heels in probably five years.”

Rhys slipped his arm around her waist and moved to stand before her, pulling her tight up against him. Instantly, a hot flush of passion rippled through her body as his other arm wrapped around her, encircling her.

“Just hang on to me, sweetheart,” he murmured into her hair. “I’m kind of enjoying the heels. They do some incredible shit to your legs… and consequently to my dick. I’d love to see you wearing them all night, even after the dress comes off.”

Shea’s breath caught in her throat, and the brush of his fingers along her bare back caused a molten sensation between her thighs. Every square inch of her body immediately tingled, and goosebumps spread down her arms.

She turned her face into his neck, breathing in deeply at the rich pine scent of him. The smooth fabric of his black dress shirt felt cool against the hot blush of her cheeks, and for a moment she allowed herself to melt into him slightly.

“Besides,” Rhys breathed into her ear, “if wearing heels makes you press your hot little body up against me, I’m starting to think you should wear them all the time.”

“Hey, Shea…” Frankie’s voice sounded behind her. She turned to look at him and saw the distressed look he gave to Rhys. “Rhys…” he frowned.

“Frankie,” Rhys greeted him in return. “Nice to see you again.”

Frankie nodded at him suspiciously, then turned his attention back to Shea. “You look gorgeous…”

“Thank you,” Shea said cautiously.

Awkwardly, Frankie stammered for a moment and then practically fled.

“He wants you, you know,” Rhys chuckled, “so badly. Tell me you can see that.”

“Rhys, he’s like some odd cousin or something. It’s not what you think,” Shea argued and took a sip of her champagne. “Besides, he doesn’t get me,” she lifted her gaze to his and whispered in a husky, throaty tone. “You do… for now.”

Rhys licked his lips hungrily and groaned a little as she bit her lip. “I don’t want to be here. I want to be alone with you.”

A seductive smile touched Shea’s lips. “I can’t leave yet,” she softly said. “I promised Michelle I’d stay until the book auction is over.”

“How much longer is that?” Rhys asked with a fiery glint in his blue eyes.

“Um, it starts at eight-thirty.” God, she couldn’t take her eyes off his lips. Watching him talk, watching him smile…

Rhys slid a hand from her back, dancing his fingers across the bare skin, so he could take a look at his watch. Then he glanced back at her with a naughty smirk. “We’ve got twenty-five minutes, sweetheart.” He nodded his head towards an open door that lead to the hallway. “Down the hall… now,” he gruffly commanded.

The stern command made Shea shiver and clench.

Steadied by his hands firmly holding her hips as he stayed close behind her, Shea carefully turned and walked down the hallway. Off to the right was a doorway, and Rhys tried the knob. Locked. They took a few more steps and tried another doorway a little farther down. With a quiet click, it opened. Rhys glanced wickedly at Shea, pushed her into the small storage room, and closed the door behind him.

His lips swooped down over hers, capturing a gaspy moan as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “Christ,” he mumbled as he raised his head slightly, “you are so full of surprises, sweetheart. I was kind of trying to get you riled up, but I like this better.”

“Quit trying to piss me off, you bastard,” Shea whispered back at him.

“You’re just so fucking hot when you’re pissed. But you’re pretty fucking hot right now, too.” His lips captured hers again, plundering her mouth deeply, nipping at her swollen lips as he pulled away. “Honestly, sweetheart, you’re always fucking hot.”

“Not always…” Shea whispered breathlessly.

His lips trailed down across her cheek, down her neck, nipping and sucking as he found tender skin covering her collarbone. “Always… jeans, flannel nightgowns, long johns… this fucking dress. Yeah, always…”

Rhys reached down and slid one hand under her flowing skirt, pulling her leg up to his hip and pressing her back into the storage shelving behind her. His teeth danced across her shoulder, nibbling. Shea groaned loudly at the caress of his rough fingers skating across the bare skin of her thigh, dipping under her panties to grip her firm, round ass. He pulled her tightly against him, and she shuddered at the exquisitely painful pressure of his arousal against her wet and aching core.

He suddenly dropped her leg and slid his other hand under her skirt, finding the waistband of her tiny satin panties and pulling them down her legs, steadying her so she could step out of them. He lifted them to his nose and breathed deeply before tucking them into the pocket of his pants.

The cool air of the room touched her hot center and Shea whimpered with a building need. As he rose, Rhys unzipped his fly and released his cock, stroking it harshly a few times as he looked at her where she stood panting and shaking before him. Shea was hypnotized by his broad, strong hand as he squeezed a little, bringing forth a droplet of precum from the head of his dick. His thumb brushed across it, and he lifted his hand to place that thumb in her mouth. The salty richness caused a tightening throughout her body, and her fingers dug in his shoulders as she sucked on his thumb fervently.

“Fuck, baby,” he growled. “I want in that tight little pussy so bad. I need to get in there… right fucking now…”

Rhys reached down, grabbing both of her legs and lifting her up against the shelves along the wall, lining her up as he surged into her. Shea cried out against his neck. She was stunned by the sensitivity deep within her, and she could feel the pull of his hard, swollen length as he slowly withdrew, only to rush back in with a frantic force.

“Fuck, yeah,” Rhys muttered. “So slippery… you’re soaked, sweetheart. Fucking soaked for me, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Shea breathed with a gasp. Her brain had ceased to function, reducing her to frantic single-word responses. Slowly, the inflaming desire made even those responses impossible. He nipped her ear and bit down on the sensitive part of her neck just below her hairline. Rhys sucked hard against the skin as he pounded into her, scraping her bare back against the rough shelf behind her. His fingers gripped her thighs fiercely as he began to swell with his impending release.

“Come on, baby… fucking come for me… I need to feel you tighten around me. I need to hear you cry out. I need to feel your body jolt and flood my dick.” Rhys gritted the words out as he continued to pull out and then thrust back in hard and fast. Every nerve in her body was on fire and she began to shake violently as the pressure built and exploded.

Rhys groaned loudly against her neck as she convulsed around him.

“Fuck,” he rumbled, “oh, yeah… that’s it. So wet…”

The aftershocks bounced through her, firing off all the neurons in her brain and stunning her with the ecstasy of her shattering release.

“Oh yeah,” she heard Rhys mutter, “I love the sounds you make when I’m fucking you…”

With a few more deep strokes and a loud groan, Rhys spilled his hot release inside her.

Stopping quickly at the restroom so Shea could freshen up, they made it back into the main room just as the auction was starting. Shea could see Michelle nervously scanning the room. Relief and then obvious amusement lit her eyes as she saw Shea being led back in by Rhys. While she’d tried to tame it somewhat, her hair and makeup had become a bit mussed, and the wrinkles on her dress were just screaming out I had sex in the storage room!  It was evident that Michelle surely knew, anyway. As much as she tried to ignore her friend’s smirks and narrowed eyes, Shea could almost hear the questions that were sure to come.

“So, where have you been, hmmm?” Michelle said under her breath as Shea sat down beside her.

Shea knitted her brows and looked over at her, with a very determined-looking shake of her head. Rhys sat beside her, spreading his arm across Shea’s back, his fingers softly skimming the bare skin right along her shoulder and completely driving her to distraction.

“I need more champagne,” Shea murmured as she stood, wobbling a little on the high heels.

Rhys stood also, as though he had every intent of escorting her.

Putting her hand flat on his chest, and immediately regretting it as her fingers practically burned his thick, sculpted muscles, she shook her head at him.

“No… stay…” She had to get away from him for a moment, to compose herself.

Rhys smirked at her. “Don’t take too long. I may have to come looking for you.”

And, just like that, with the sexy rumble of words he murmured in her ear, she was ready for round two.

Rhys watched her carefully make her way out of the main room towards the makeshift bar. This cat and mouse game was entirely too intriguing. Her feisty spark when he pissed her off, watching it melt into desire and experiencing the passion she released.

“So, Rhys…” Michelle said, moving to sit in the chair beside him. “How’s are things going? How’s that report coming along?”

Rhys looked over at Shea’s close friend with an instant wariness. Danger, his mind screamed at him. Her smile was friendly, not a hint of animosity or suspicion. In fact, outwardly she seemed to like him better than Shea did, but he detected an underlying agenda with her questions. He could feel the protective streak pouring out of her.

“Well, it’s getting there. A couple days, I’m guessing.”

“And then? You just… go away, huh?”

And there it was…

Rhys thought for a moment before he answered her. Not really even sure how to pacify her. In the end, she spoke first.

“She’s letting you in, Rhys. You may not see it, but this is a huge thing for her. She hasn’t dated, slept around, nothing for years. Not since Gavin.” Michelle suddenly stopped smiling, looking intent and fierce, in spite of her sweet-young-mother appearance. In a split second, she went all mama bear on him. “Don’t hurt her. Regardless of the short time you’ve known her… she doesn’t do this. With anyone. And the fact that she is with you is telling.”

Rhys knitted his brow. He didn’t want to hear this. It was so much easier to think she was playing him too. “Michelle—”

“She’ll be back in a minute, so I need to make this quick, but Shea is the most straightforward person you’ll ever know. She’s tough as nails and independent. But you’re in uncharted territory right now, buddy, and I have no idea how this is going to affect her. So, if you care—at all—you need to think long and hard about how you spend the rest of your time here. Don’t fuck up my girl.”

Michelle looked at him fiercely and patted him on the shoulder as he contemplated her words with an ill feeling settling in his gut.

“Nice talk, Rhys…” she said, and moved back to her chair as Shea slowly carefully made her way back from the hallway.

The guilt began to eat at him. The knowledge that he had to make this right. Even though Shea would hate him after it was all over anyway, after it came to light just why he was here to begin with.

Shea sat down beside him, her brow scrunched at the expression on his face. He did his best to smile at her, to look nonchalant and easy-going. But she clearly wasn’t buying it. That much was evident when she turned back to Michelle.

“Shell… what’s going on?”

Blinking innocently, Michelle smiled back at Shea. “What do you mean?”

Shea looked back and forth between the two guilty expressions.

“You know you don’t have to protect, me, right Michelle? I’m an adult.” Shea looked back at Rhys. “What did she say?”

“She was just looking out for her friend, sweetheart,” Rhys said softly.

“Dammit, Michelle—”

“Shea—” Michelle sighed.

“No, I’m not helpless. It’s sweet that you care, but I don’t need you trying to run interference for me.”

“Shea,” Rhys interjected, “she didn’t really say anything that I don’t already know.”

“And what do you know, Rhys? You barely know me at all. I’m not fragile. I’m not going to break when you leave.” She looked over at Michelle. “Yeah, I slept with him. A couple times, and it was fucking awesome. It’s about time I got laid. But I also know its fleeting. Whatever the hell this is, it isn’t something that will be here in a month. Or even in another week. I know that. I don’t need anyone handling me with kid gloves.”

With that, she stood and took a few steps towards the exit. Swearing under her breath, she stopped and kicked off the shoes, grabbing them as she stormed out of the room.

Rhys looked over at Michelle. “I’m sorry. I was trying to help, and instead I think I pissed her off even more.”

“She’ll forgive me.” Michelle smiled sadly. “She’s always had a little bit of a temper, especially when it’s something she’s sensitive about. I maybe shouldn’t have said anything. I just… I don’t want to see her get hurt. That said, you better go get her. She’s headed outside without her shoes on, and she’s probably just pissed enough to not care. Her hot temper won’t protect her feet.”

“You don’t think she’d actually go outside without putting them back on, do you?”

Michelle shrugged. “Depends on how pissed she is.”

Rhys stood and headed for the entryway to the library, relieved to see her standing, with her shoes in her hand, just inside looking out the glass doors at the heavy flakes of snow scattering through the night air.

“So, were you going to walk home, or what?” Rhys asked, and she turned to look at him.

Yeah, still pissed…

“You can go,” Shea grumbled. “I’ll figure something out. I don’t like the idea of you driving me all the way home.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Slip on your shoes, and I’ll give you a ride.”

Shea scoffed and looked back up at him, making no move to put her shoes on. “Don’t forget how we met. I’d never sleep wondering if you made it back to town or if you were stuck in a ditch somewhere.”

“You’d worry?” he said with a teasing smile.

She just turned to look back outside with a huff.

“Okay, then. I’ll take you back to my cabin.”

“No, I’m fine,” she said with a crisp voice.

“Shea—”

“Dammit, Rhys! Don’t. Don’t get all worried and shit. I don’t want this to be some feely thing. I don’t want—” She abruptly stopped talking and turned away. “Just go, okay?”

“I’ll go,” he ground out, “but you’re coming with me.”

Bending at the waist, Rhys quickly grabbed her, tossing her over his shoulder with a swat on her ass. He wasn’t sure exactly what he’d do after he carried her off cave-man style to his truck, but he wasn’t going to stand there and argue with her like this.

“Put me down!” Shea struggled against him, and she was surprisingly strong for such a little thing. He grabbed their coats and strode through the door towards his rental truck. The whole way out, Shea squirmed and rocked against him, her breasts pressed against his back. One of his arms hooked around her legs to keep them tight against him and prevent her from kicking too much. His other hand settled on her luscious ass the whole way out. Once they reached his truck, he had to lessen confining grip to open the passenger door, and she finally managed to slide down his body to the ground, barefoot in the snow.

And, by God, she was so angry she didn’t seem to care.

He opened the passenger door, but Shea didn’t budge, firmly pressing against the side of the truck.

“Get in…” he ground through clenched teeth.

“No!” she spat back at him.

“Shea, dammit, your feet are going to freeze. You’re going to get fucking frostbite! Now… GET. IN. THE. TRUCK!”

“On one condition,” she fumed back at him, shaking with cold and anger, “you take me home! Now! You take me home and you leave me there. I don’t want to be with you right now. I’m pissed. I’m pissed at Michelle, and I’m pissed at you.”

“Fine,” Rhys huffed with an exasperated laugh. “Besides, you’re always pissed at me.”

Shea leapt into the truck, rubbing her feet to alleviate the painful bite of the snow. Rhys climbed in the driver seat and cranked the heat on high. Before she could change her mind, he backed out of his parking space and started out on the road… towards his rental cabin.

The opposite direction from Shea’s house.

Shea signed in frustration. “Rhys, you’re going the wrong way.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes! Yes, you are. I live that way!” Shea seethed, pointing over her shoulder with her thumb. “You said you would take me home.”

Rhys looked over at her with a naughty grin. “I lied, sweetheart. Completely and totally. You are all fired up and hot as fucking hell. There’s no way I’m just going to drop you off and leave right now. Your ass is mine.”

Chapter 15 ~ The Surrender

Shea’s body quivered at the rough promise in his eyes. Oh my…  She angrily turned to stare out the window into the dark winter night as he drove to the edge of town to his cabin.

He parked in front and looked over at her, a feral light still prevalent in his gaze. He exuded a dangerous arousal, wild and angry. As much as Shea didn’t want to respond, her traitorous body heated under his perusal and she felt a deep ache burn inside her.

“Do I have to wrestle you out of the truck, sweetheart? Or are you going to come willingly?” he asked with a quiet potency in his voice.

Shea closed her eyes, willing away the passion that burned through her. She didn’t answer, instead taking deep calming breaths.

Rhys stepped out into the cold winter air and crossed to the passenger side of the truck. As he opened it, Shea turned her head away angrily.

“Gotcha, we’ll do it this way,” he muttered, and he pulled her from the pickup, carrying her into the cabin and kicking the door shut behind him. Rhys tossed her on the bed and she scooted back up against the headboard, watching him closely as he unbuttoned his dress shirt and slowly unbuckled his belt. After pulling it free from his belt loops, he laid it on the bed and reached for Shea’s ankles. With a heavy tug, he pulled her straight towards him, her skirt riding up to almost uncover her panty-less body from the waist down. Shea’s hands reached for the rough-hewn pine headboard, grasping it firmly to prevent him from pulling her all the way to him.

With a wicked smile, Rhys straddled her torso, using his weight to hold her down as he reached for the belt. With one large, strong hand, he held her wrists and wrapped the belt around them with the other, slipping it through the rough log frame of the headboard before finally buckling it tight.

"Makes you crazy, doesn't it? This lack of control. You don't always have to run the show, Shea. You might like letting someone else take the reins. Just let go, sweetheart"

"I can't," she weakly keened, pulling at the restraint holding her tightly to the bed.

"You can... You just have to free yourself."

“God-dammit, Rhys!” Shea breathed out heavily.

With her hands firmly bound to the bed and his body trapping hers, his own hands slid down her arms to her shoulders and down across her breasts. Shea moaned as he bent down to lave his tongue along her collar bone, finishing with a little nip. His hips slid back slightly, enough to tug her skirt up around her waist, and the cool air hit her moist heat like a shot of lightning.

“Mmm… I like this no underwear look, sweetheart.”

Shea shuddered at the sexy tone of his voice, ripe with promise. His finger swept through her wet folds, up along her clit where he circled it firmly. His hands then continued to push up her dress, over her stomach, slowly scraping it over her tender breasts, finally lifting it over her head and tucking it into the belt that held her captive. Shea felt like she was going to die by the time he was done.

With her eyes tightly shut, Shea waited breathlessly for his touch. It was sheer torture, being pinned down like this, unable to move her arms. Every squirming movement of her body only seemed to increase the burn deep within her. It was like he was punishing her for making him crave her so much.

“Oh God… touch me, Rhys.” Shea writhed below him, feeling his eyes rake across her.

Finally, a single finger traced along her body from her shoulder, pausing to circle the tight bud of her nipple, then down to her hip. Then again, another finger joining the first, followed by his fingers on the other hand, and he lightly caressed her skin leaving a burning trail that made her tremble. His hands skated along her stomach to the apex of her thighs.

Shea opened her eyes to look at him as he watched her body undulate with his touch. His eyes followed his fingers as they slowly moved back up to her aching breasts, and he bent down to take a hard nipple in his mouth.

“Fuck, Rhys,” Shea moaned. “Don’t stop. Don’t you dare fucking stop.”

Rhys stopped, frozen in his tracks, and Shea gave an agonized cry.

“You’re not in control right now, Shea,” Rhys murmured as he ran his finger down from her neck, along the center of her breasts, trailing again down to her soft, damp depth, dipping inside to swirl through her wetness. He nudged his knee to part her thighs and he settled between them, spreading them wide until the cool air of the room touched her sensitive heat. “But I’ll give you one little choice, baby—your pussy or your ass?”

“Rhys, please…” she sobbed with a broken cry.

“What will it be, sweetheart? I think you want me in your ass, don’t you?” He pulled up at her knees, tilting her pelvis higher, and his finger traced down along the cleft of her backside.

She burned for him, her body wracked with flashes of sensation. Her body craved his touch… everywhere. Even there.

After the sensation she’d experienced in the dressing room today, especially there.

“Shea,” he cradled her face firmly in his hands. She could smell the scent of her on his hands, so strong and erotic. “Your pussy or your ass?”

Shea felt tears slip from her eyes with the force of her shameless need. Finally, as he lowered his lips back down to hers.

“Which one, baby?” he softly breathed into her.

She whispered back, “My ass…”

In a fluid motion, Rhys quickly flipped her over weightlessly, plunging his fingers deep inside her soaked sex and spreading the wetness up through the cleft of her backside. And then his finger slipped inside the tight little pucker of her ass. She cried out against the bedding at the unfamiliar intrusion, moaning with the feel of his finger swirling around inside her.

As he played with her tight, pink bud with one hand, he tugged her hips up with the other. His knees forced her legs apart as he aligned his cock with her aching pussy. “Gotta get it good and wet,” he growled and roughly thrust into her hot and wet core, causing Shea to cry out in sheer bliss. “And you’re so damn wet. Soaked… all the way down your soft, silky thighs.”

“Fuck,” Shea moaned as he pumped into her a few time, still fingering her tight rear entrance, drawing the moisture upwards from her drenched sex.

“I can’t fucking wait… Such a sweet, sexy ass, baby…” Shea’s hips tilted, helping to line him up with the tightness of her back entrance, and then he was stretching her, slowly pushing inside. It was just ever-so-slightly-painful, but such a marvelous pain as she took him all. She whimpered as he started to withdraw, but then he filled her again and a deep throaty cry erupted from her throat. Out and in, out and in, starting slowly and quickening his pace.

Rhys straightened and rose up on his knees, his cock pulling her impaled body up with him as one hand lifted her, pushing at her sensitive mound. It was incredible, his pounding force, punishing her with pleasure in what was, before him, a completely untouched part of her. She was mindless, feeling as though she was floating… coursing through the air like lightning.

Every nerve fiber in her body was focused on the exquisite sensations of his hot, thick, pounding length. Her wrists were still bound to the bedframe. Her face was buried in the thick blankets of the bed, and his fingers dipped to her clit and circled, causing her to detonate around him. Shea screamed into the bed below her, convulsing with astounding force as he continued to fuck her ass. With a loud groan, Rhys pulled out as he began to come, shooting spurts of semen across her buttocks and lower back.

Shea lay there trembling with her ass in the air as she felt his fingers trace through the warm liquid he spilled onto her skin. As he touched the wetness and spread it out on her flesh, she could feel it cool, and a shiver coursed through her.

“God, that’s fucking beautiful, sweetheart,” he groaned.

After a few moments, Rhys reached above her, loosening the belt that bound her wrists. He pulled her hands free of the tangle of leather and fabric. Rubbing the sensitive, almost raw skin where the belt had chafed against her, he pulled her to lay prone on the bed, her head listlessly lying on the pillow. He left for a moment, going into the bathroom to clean up, and came back out with a warm, damp towel that he used to wipe her clean. The heat of the towel left, and her dewy skin was chilled until he curled up tightly against her, tugging the blankets over the top of them.

And, without another second of thought, she fell into an exhausted sleep.

Shea's eyes blinked open at the touch of Rhys' warm, hair-roughened skin against her bare thigh. The room was still dark, and for a moment, she struggled to remember where she was. She had slept so deeply, sated and weary.

Slowly, her mind registered that they were in his bed without so much as a scrap of fabric between them. She was snuggled against his defined chest, curled into his arms, sheltered and protected. Her body felt tender and so alive. His hand skimmed along the delicate skin of her back, and she unconsciously pressed tighter against him.

He held her still for a moment before pressing his lips to her forehead, drawing her from her stupor. Pushing up on her elbow to look down at him in the almost darkness of the room, she momentarily admired his awe-inspiring appearance. Thick lashes, his angled jaw, the fullness of his lips.

She truly loved waking up with him.

Dammit.

Frustrated with her own uncontrolled thoughts, she furrowed her brow.

"You look pissed again," Rhys murmured.

"Not pissed. I just, um... just a few more days, right? Before you leave?" she asked softly.

Rhys pushed her back, rolling up over her. "No, you don't get to do this. Not yet. I've wanted you from the minute I first saw you in the firelight. Right out of the fucking gate.” His hand cupped her cheek to hold her gaze steady with his, and his voice lowered. His knee nudged its way between her legs, spreading them as he nestled his growing hardness against her. “Reality doesn't get to intrude yet. Right now, it's just my body and yours."

Shea gasped with a renewed need, and his lips caught hers for a hard, fast kiss before he pulled her tightly against him and growled in her ear.

"Just you and me, sweetheart..." he groaned as he sank into her deeply, smoothly. But oh so full, forcing a hoarse moan from deep inside her. Her hands grasped his forearms tightly, pillars of solid muscle that supported most of his weight above her. As wet as she was, she was a little sore, overly sensitive from his touch. She could feel the slow slide of his cock push into her until he was fully inside, stretching her tender, abused flesh and wringing a ragged groan.

"Fuck, honey..." Rhys whispered as her back arched with his slow withdrawal. He pulled out almost completely before shifting and filling her again. The sensation sent tingles throughout Shea's entire body. A sharp cry escaped her as he lowered his head to catch her tight, throbbing nipple in his mouth, and he teased the peak vigorously before trading sides to tickle and torment the other breast.

“You’re mine right now, Shea,” he gruffly uttered. “You don’t get to think about being away from me, not yet.”

So she didn’t.

She willingly focused all her attention on his hard thrusts, his clenching fingers, his labored breathing.

And she loved every second.

Rhys lay quietly in the growing morning light, watching Shea sleeping soundly beside him. Lightly, his fingers traced the smooth curve of her cheek, the gentle arch of her brow, the softness of her hair. His body was sated, but his mind was whirling.

She was incredible.

He had to stop McHugh.

He had to do something. Over the past few days, he’d begun to see things through her eyes. He’d begun to feel a bit tied to this small community, this family of sorts.

It would be the end of his work for McHugh. The man was not forgiving. Bitterly cold and heartless. Sentimentality had no place in business. Until this point, until this job, Rhys had never had a problem with it.

But something about this place—this woman—was different. This independent and feisty soul who seemed so strong and controlled. Until he got under her skin, poked and prodded. Until she succumbed to him and came apart around him. Until he looked in her eyes, the sparkling hazel with little brown flecks, and saw something inside that she didn’t show the rest of the world.

Shea might like her solitude, but she was lonely. He wasn’t sure she even realized it herself, seeing it as a choice. A way to prevent the loss of love. Almost everyone important to her had left her or let her down. Her parents had passed when she was so young. Her grandparents had been the last of her family. Her husband had not appreciated the glorious gift she had given him. So she kept her distance from any attachment, convincing herself that her friendship with Michelle, her pseudo-aunt role with Michelle’s kids, was enough.

He could still taste the tears that had run down her cheeks when she released the reigns last night, when she relinquished herself over to him.

Rhys, please… her shattered sob echoed through his brain, causing his gut to tighten.

It suddenly seemed so hard to take. Looking back at his life, he wondered how he’d reached this point. He’d be thirty years old in a few months, and, until now, he’d been content. Not entirely what he could call happy… but satisfied.

Now his dreams were changing, and it was terribly unsettling. How was he supposed to deal with this? Because he knew that, out of respect for her and whatever it was he was feeling, he’d have to tell Shea the truth. His reason for coming here, for initiating this seduction.

She would feel played… used.

She would hate him.

Feeling cowardly, he considered not telling her and just leaving. To try and stop McHugh. At the very least, he knew he had to extricate himself from the emotionless, tyrannical businessman.

Slipping from the bed, from the softness and warmth of Shea’s arms as she slept, he quietly dressed and left to make a call.

McHugh looked at the display on his ringing cell phone. Rhys calling to check in. Good boy…

He answered with a brusque tone. “Rhys, how are things in Snowcreek? Anything new?”

For a moment, he only heard silence before Rhys heaved a frustrated sigh. “I’m not sure about this, McHugh. I can’t crack her… And, honestly, I wonder if maybe she’s a little bit right.”

“What?” McHugh barked angrily, completely aghast. “Rhys, what the fuck is wrong with you? I don’t give a shit if she’s right. I’ve got too much money tied up in this. If it goes to hell, I’m in big shit.”

“Sir, you probably shouldn’t have started with this one. They have some valid concerns. I can’t in good conscience go along with this anymore.”

“Since when the fuck do you have a conscience?” McHugh sneered. “Listen, son, I don’t give a shit about their concerns. If they don’t like the resort, they can fucking move. It’s a free God-damn country. Nobody says they have to stay. In fact, knowing some of the backwoods imbreds that likely live there, it would probably be better for business anyway.”

“I’m not doing this, McHugh,” Rhys said steadily. “I’ve done a lot of shit for you over the years…”

“And you’ve been well-paid to do it,” the older man bellowed.

“…but I’m done. I’ll be back in a week or so to clean out my office.”

McHugh could practically hear the finality as Rhys clipped a short goodbye and disconnected the call. After hanging up, he sat tapping his fingers on his desk. Rhys had always been a sure thing. He’d never let him down. Over the past eight years, he’d always done everything necessary—everyone necessary—to ensure McHugh’s deals went through.

But all good things must end, and apparently Rhys was at the end. He’d lasted longer than some of others had in the past. But it was time to cut the boy loose.

McHugh reached again for his phone, punching in the number for Jeff in the company’s IT department.

“Yo, boss,” Jeff answered.

“Need you to do something for me, Jeff. I need you to do a search in Rhys’ email. Anything related to Shea Madison and Snowcreek, Montana. Forward all of it on to me.”

Chapter 16 ~ The Truce

It was the feel of him deep inside that awoke her. Him filling her. Withdrawing. The delicious push and pull as she tightened around him.

The next thing she noticed was the sensation of his smooth, hot skin on her fingertips as she dug into the rigid muscles of his back.

The rough texture of him as he moved against her. The dusting of hair trailing down his abs that rubbed against the smooth skin of her stomach.

The puffs of breath in her ear, followed by a throaty moan.

The grip of his heavy hand on her thigh, pulling her leg up beneath his arm to spread her wider for his possession. In a dreamlike state, the pressure built inside her and she tightened around him.

“Rhys…” she breathed.

“Shea,” Rhys groaned into her hair. “Fuck, sweetheart… what you do to me…”

He wrapped her tightly in his arms as he began to move faster, drawing tremors from her body with every stroke. He was so deep inside her, entangled so tightly around her. She teetered over the edge for a moment before she fell with a gaspy cry into shuddering abandon as the flush of his orgasm washed through her.

He kissed her so softly, along her eyelids and down the curve of her cheek, making his way to her tender lips. Her eyes opened slightly as she felt him raise his head, and he gazed down at her with an unreadable expression while he ran his fingers along the sensitive curve of her neck.

“You’re beautiful, you know,” he whispered. “I’ve never met anyone quite like you.”

“Ditto…” she said softly.

For a time they just lay there in the afterglow of their lovemaking. Shea explored his features with the soft pads of her fingers. His strong cleft of his chin, his intense blue eyes. His short growth of beard that spread across his jaw.

What would it be like? If this were something to hang onto, would it all work out in the end?

Or would she just lose him eventually, too?

Pained by that thought, finally Shea spoke. “I should get home pretty soon. Wolfie is probably feeling rather abandoned at this point.”

Rhys nuzzled her forehead in response, placing a soft kiss between her brows, and his arms tightened around her momentarily before he released her and rolled to his side to rise.

Shea watched the play of the muscles of his back as he stretched and scrubbed his hands over his face, running his fingers through his tousled, just-fucked hair. He looked back at her with a soft, almost sad smile. “I’ll find you something to wear. You put that dress back on, and you’ll likely never get to leave this room again.”

Stepping up to the counter in the small, hometown bakery, Shea ordered a couple pieces of sausage and cheddar peasant bread, toasted with butter, and two large steaming cups of coffee. Rhys was across the street filling his rental jeep up with gas to get her out to her house, so she’d run in to get them something for breakfast. She was wearing another pair of his thermal long johns with a big, soft sweatshirt and her snow boots. The morning was clear and bitingly cold, so she was thankful that he’d been considerate enough to find her something warm.

She had sensed a change in him this morning. It was as though they had formed some sort of truce in the dark of the night. At the same time, knowing he was leaving in only a few days, there was a definite sadness, a pulling away.

Yet, there was also a depth to their touch, something that reached in and pulled her emotions out before him, something that was hard to understand. A poignant connection. A metaphorical bond resulting from the physicality of the belt that restrained her the night before.

Paying for the bread and coffee, she gathered them up and stepped outside where Rhys sat waiting in the pickup. He was looking out the window at the mountain peaks that towered over the town. She stood frozen for a moment, watching him. He thoughtfully ran his fingers along his rough, bristly chin and his eyes squinted in the sunlight.

Shea climbed in the truck and handed him his coffee.

As he took it, he looked at her intently, and then he spoke.

“I quit my job this morning.”

Shea was shocked. “Why?” she whispered.

“I, um… got in a fight with my boss.”

She wasn’t sure how to respond. What it meant for her town. What it meant for the resort. What it meant for him… if it possibly meant something for them.

“I’ve still got to go back. I fly home the day after tomorrow. I need to finish some things. Sort some things out. Figure out what’s next, I suppose.” He took a sip of coffee before he continued. “I’m not sure how long it will take.”

Rhys brought her home, and then he stayed. He just couldn’t bring himself to leave. He split firewood and shoveled the walkway. There was a nervous energy about him, as though he had to make sure she would be safe when he was gone. He hated the feeling, the wrenching pain of the impending loss.

Wrapped up tightly in her bed, with shadows dancing on the walls from the flickering firelight below, he looked down at Shea in the dim light.

Fuck, she was beautiful. Genuine.

“I really tried not to like you, you know,” Shea murmured, lifting her hand to his cheek. “Knowing you are going to leave, I didn’t want to get attached.”

Rhys closed his eyes tightly as her fingertips traced the angle of his jaw, down along his chin. Her hand lifted, and he felt the gentle touch along his temple where his hair lay tousled against his forehead. Every touch of her hand delicately sent shivers through him. He heard the soft shift of the blankets and then felt the brush of her lips against his.

“I didn’t expect you. I’m not sure how to leave this behind,” he whispered against her lips.

Shea pulled back, continuing to softly run her fingers through his thick hair. “You just… do what you have to do,” she said quietly.

Rhys opened his eyes and looked at her. “Come with me.”

“Rhys, that’s insane. I belong here.”

“I don’t know, Shea. How happy are you here, really? Because, in spite of all your affirmations, are you really living if you’re so alone?

“I’ve been alone for a long time. I have my job, my dog. I feel…” she trailed off and shook her head softly. “Being alone is safer, Rhys. I have Michelle and her family when I start feeling all bereft. Besides, I left Snowcreek for love once. It didn’t really work out so well.”

“You were eighteen, Shea. You were a kid,” he stated, holding her gaze. “And he was an idiot to let you slip away.”

She pushed at him slightly, rolling herself away from him and moving to the edge of the bed. Shea grabbed the sheet, pulling it from the blankets and tucking it up around her ribs, covering those soft and delicious breasts. But it was the stricken look in her eyes that made his breath catch.

“Don’t… don’t, Rhys. We haven’t even known eachother very long. You don’t get to do this. I can’t leave here. This is my home. This is the only place in the world that I’ve ever been happy.” She down at her hands, twisting the sheet around her slender fingers, then back up at him. “You said you quit your job anyway. Why don’t you stay?”

Crazy as it was, Rhys thought about it. He’d been thinking about it… almost constantly.

He was so tired of the twisted life he’d managed to build, his empty soul and the manipulative behaviors. The dirty work for McHugh, and he had totally burned that bridge anyway. He could maybe do it. He’d never had home. He’d never loved anyone or anything as long as he could remember.

But, if he were really honest with himself, something that he had never actually worried about before, he knew he’d have to tell her. He’d have to tell her why he had really come here.

And she’d hate him for it.

She had just said it only a few minutes before. This town, her cabin… it was home. The only place she’d ever felt happy. And he had tried to destroy it. He could have destroyed it. He could have destroyed her.

He looked at her now. In her short little mountainy way, she sort of looked like a Grecian goddess wrapped in the ivory flannel sheet. Her pale skin glowed in the faint light.

He’d tell her. He’d tell her before he left. It was selfish and cowardly of him not to do it now, but he just wanted her with him… just a little longer. He stood, completely naked, and walked across the small loft to her. He could see her breathing catch, could practically feel the energy bouncing off her. As he came closer, he slightly tugged the sheet until she released it, letting it fall to the floor around her feet.

His hands lifted to cup her cheeks. Another step closer, and he could feel the gentle brush of her breasts against the hair on his chest. He felt his cock graze her stomach, wrenching a moan from deep in her throat. Her trembling tensed every muscle in his body, and he pulled her face up to his. Shea’s hands settled low on his hips, steadying her as she rose up on her toes to reach him. A soft puff of air left her lips as he drew nearer to them, and then they were touching.

Rhys tangled his fingers in her soft hair, pulling slightly and eliciting a moan. He took a few steps back with her in tow and lowered himself back to the bed, sitting on it, his hands sliding down to her hips to pull her on top of him, straddling him. Her hot little pussy slid along his aching length as her tongue darted into his mouth and swirled around his tongue.

With one hand on her hips, the other travelled up to her breast, cupping, groping, tugging at the hardened nipple. His lips left hers and swooped down, catching the rosy bud and sucking long and hard, pulling it into his mouth. Both hands slid down by her ass, he lifted slightly, raising her up to align his throbbing cock to her sweet, wet heat. And then he was inside her smooth and silky depths, her vaginal walls squeezing him and trembling around him.

“Fuck, baby…” he groaned loudly against her breast. “Shea, fuck…” One hand remained on her hip as the other slipped back up to her cheek, pulling her mouth back to his. “Sweetheart,” he breathed into her mouth, “I’ve never felt anything quite like this… so hot and sweet and wet like you.”

Shea pushed at his shoulders until his torso lay flat on the bed. She curved her hips around in small circles as she began to move gently, then more frantically. As she shook and trembled above him, his hand gripped the soft roundness of her ass and he slammed her down upon him, over and over, relishing in the tender depths of her core. Fuck, he was going to lose it! He wasn’t ready… he wanted to stay inside her for fucking ever.

“Rhys! Oh, baby, don’t stop! Make me scream,” she cried out above him as she rode him hard, her breasts bouncing with the force of his thrusts, tightening and writhing with need. “God, Rhys!”

“Fuck, Shea… You’re about to come, aren’t you?” he ground out. “I can feel your hot little pussy squeezing me, holding me inside. Spread your legs wide for me, sweetheart. Holy fuck, you feel so good…”

Shea arched her back, bracing her hands on his firm thighs just behind her. Her fingernails cut into the skin, causing him to jolt as lifted his hips slightly to impale her even deeper. With the angle of her body against his, his thick cock firmly rubbed up against the most sensitive part of her, and a deep tremor radiated out from her core, pulsing through her entire body.

Sweet Jesus…

The tightening of her muscles, the catch in her breathing, the swelling of his hardness inside her. Rhys tensed beneath her, his own body arching to deepen their connection, his hands gripping tautly into the soft curve of her hips, roughly lifting her slightly to slam her back down upon him. Suddenly, just as she was about to shatter, his head fell back and he came hard inside her, triggering her own release. His last thought as he let go, blasting his seed deep within her, shook him to his core.

Christ, he was in too deep.

Chapter 17 ~ The Awakening

The morning light began to drift through the slight opening in the heavy drapes. Shea’s eyes fluttered open to see Rhys sleeping steadily beside her. His features were softened in his sleep, making him look younger, in spite of the short beard sandpapering his chin.

She was going to miss him.

He wasn’t going to stay. She wasn’t even sure why she had asked him. It seemed that people didn’t move to her town, only away. It really wasn’t a bad thing. The ones who came and went were sort of a flash in the pan. But this guy? This guy would leave a mark.

Could she ever leave Snowcreek?

The instant she thought it, her mind rebelled. Leave for a man she barely knew? Ridiculous.

She’d done that before, and it had been a nightmare.

She’d be okay. She was a tough little shit. She’d proven that to herself many times over the years. Yeah, it would all be okay.

And, in the meantime, she’d just enjoy this while it lasted. These last few days. She’d never felt the stirrings of passion he brought out of her. She’d never felt as though she were bursting into pieces, a super nova shattering with light. She would relish this time because who knew when—if—she would ever feel this way again.

She curled into Rhys’ warm, sleeping form, and his eyes drifted open, the piercing blue locking onto her gaze. He smiled sleepily and he reached up to brush his thumb across her cheekbone.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” he murmured.

“Hi…” she sighed back.

“Have you been awake long?”

“No, just a few minutes.”

Rhys pulled her closer to him, locking his heavy arms around her, pressing his face into the wild disarray of her hair as it spread across the pillow. This felt so good. So right. The smell of him and the feel of him. And the longer she lay there, the more this rightness gnawed at her gut. It made her restless.

It made her miss him already.

“Jesus, Rhys. Your hands are freezing,” Shea moaned as he pressed her up against the doorway to his little rental cabin. His left hand had slipped up the back of her shirt, under her warm coat, while his right fumbled for his key in his pocket.

After a light breakfast and coffee at the bakery, as they had climbed out of his truck, Shea had playfully lumped up a handful of snow and tossed it at him. It was unseasonably warm, and the temperature made it perfect for a snowball fight.

Rhys didn’t even see it coming, although he reacted quickly, tackling her into a snow bank and rolling her beneath him. Giggling and squealing, she struggled to get away, unable to compete with this brute strength. Then he had kissed her, and suddenly, she forgot about the snow. All she could focus on was him. The heat of his kisses ripped through her and she was quickly moaning and begging for him.

He pulled her from the snow towards his little cabin and fumbled with the key in the door, barely able to tear his lips from her skin. A trickle of snow that had caked into her hair ran down her neck, and Shea shivered with the sensation. The chill of the icy wetness, the heat of Rhys’ mouth as he nipped his way down her neck. Shea was breathless, aching, needing him… now!

Lost in each other, neither noticed the older man approach. As the door finally opened and they started inside the warm privacy of the cabin, the man cleared his throat to announce his presence.

Rhys raised his head and froze solid. His sudden change in demeanor alerted Shea to the stranger who stood before them. Very formal in an expensive-looking, yet somehow ill-fitting, suit and tie. Asshole-looking. Shea instantly went on guard.

“Who the fuck are you?” Shea demanded.

“So, Rhys,” the man smiled coldly. “How’s our little project coming along?”

Rhys grimaced and stepped in front of Shea, protectively pushing her behind him. “Don’t McHugh…” he warned.

“McHugh?” Shea gasped. As in McHugh Corporation?

“Oh, sorry. Is this her? Is this our girl? Wow, she really is a pretty one after all, isn’t she.”

“McHugh?” Shea repeated, her voice only slightly audible. She felt the dread creep up through her heart. “What’s he talking about, Rhys?”

Rhys didn’t speak.

“Rhys?” Shea’s voice quavered as she tugged on the back of his coat. “Tell me what he’s talking about.”

Rhys swore under his breath and glared at McHugh who gave him a sickly wicked grin.

“So, Ms. Madison,” the older man dangerously began to explain, “tell me. Does the name Buddy James mean anything to you?”

“Motherfucker…” Rhys breathed quietly.

Shea stiffened instantly, attempting to hide her shock at hearing Buddy’s name being uttered from McHugh’s lips. To hide her confusion of Rhys’ response. Drawing up every ounce of bravado she could muster, she glared back at the old bastard standing across from her and Rhys.

“Doesn’t ring a bell. Should it?” she queried.

“Hmm…” McHugh crossed over to the table, opening his laptop case and pulling out a thick file. “That’s odd. Because, you see… I have this email that I received from Rhys the other day. Looking down through the chain, it appears to be originate between you,” he looked over his glasses at Shea, “and your lawyer.”

Rhys instantly locked up in front of her, his jaw clenching angrily and every muscle in his body incredibly tense. “What the fuck, McHugh?”

McHugh only gave a deep chuckle, oddly chilling with no real humor at all. “Rhys, I have you to thank for it… You’ve always been so dependable.” He crossed back over to Rhys and Shea, handing the paper out as Shea reached out from behind Rhys’ protective stance. She took the paper from him with a trembling hand, looking at it with horror as McHugh continued. “It seems our Mr. James does mean something to you. He has a claim to your land. And he’s offered to sell his claim… to me.”

Shea couldn’t breathe. No! This wasn’t happening. “No. Buddy doesn’t want to sell. This is wrong. We settled all this.”

“A handshake and a phone call, my dear. That may mean something to you, but it’s really nothing in the eyes of the law. Especially now that Mr. James is seeing things a little differently. He seems to think the offer we have put before him is well worth the hassle.”

Shea looked back down at the printed out email in her hands, an email that looked to be forwarded from her, and then turned back to Rhys. “How did you get this?”

“Shea, I didn’t…”

“Tell. Me. How. You. Got. This.” Shea’s voice was cold and hard. “Because I sure as hell didn’t send it to you. No matter how it looks on this fucking little piece of paper.” Shea looked back at the email. “January sixteenth… that’s the morning after we…” Her voice trailed off with shock. “Holy shit…” Her eyes flew back up to his. “That’s the morning after we first slept together.”

McHugh laughed loudly. “That’s his usual MO, from what I understand. The ladies just can’t resist his charm. That’s why he’s the best, my dear.”

Shea’s forehead knitted in confusion. “I don’t understand. He’s here to do a report…”

“Oh dear, Rhys, you probably should tell her. I mean, she’s going to find out anyway, right? No? Okay, I’ll tell her then.” McHugh shrugged and looked over Rhys’ shoulder to Shea. “He’s here working on a project for me. A land deal. Helping to, um… sway the resistance.”

“No…” Shea whispered. “That’s not right. He’s here to… he’s… independent…”

“Oh, isn’t that sweet,” McHugh snickered. “You’ve done very well with this one, Rhys. She’s completely smitten. You always come through for me. From what I had heard, she would be one hell of a test of your abilities, but I should have never doubted you. You’ve never let me down. Not once.”

Shea took a step back from the protection Rhys was providing. Without really looking at her, without repositioning his body to face her, he turned his head slightly over his shoulder.

Shea could read the guilt written all over his face.

Chapter 18 ~ The Betrayal

“Oh God…” Shea’s voice broke.

“Shea—” Rhys turned more fully towards her.

“He’s right, isn’t he?” she whispered. “He’s telling the truth.”

“Not totally. Not all of it. I didn’t... I don’t know how he got that email.”

“Fuck that, Rhys!  How did you get that email?”

Rhys clenched his jaw, as he threw a look back at McHugh. “Would you get the fuck out of here for a few minutes so I can talk to her?”

“Rhys… you should really be a little more considerate to your boss, you know. Especially if you still want that hazard pay you bargained for.” McHugh looked over at Shea. “He’d bargained for a little extra on this job, knowing you’d be a little difficult to take down.”

“McHugh, get the fuck out or I am going to kick your motherfucking ass. Now!”

“We’re going to have to have a little talk about this attitude of yours, Rhys,” McHugh muttered as he slowly made his way to the door. He turned back on his way out, looking over at Shea. “Well, Ms. Madison. It was very nice finally meeting you.” With a triumphant glare, he closed the door behind him.

Rhys turned back to Shea. His blue eyes were clouded with desolate frustration. His shoulders heaved with agitated breaths. “Shea—” he began.

“All I want—right now—is for you to tell me how you got that email.” Shea’s voice was hollow, brittle.

Rhys expelled a heavy sigh and shut his eyes tightly. “You were outside… in the morning. Chopping wood. I bumped your mouse, your screen lit up. Your email app was open.”

“After what had happened… what had happened the night before?” Shea’s voice was breathless, and suddenly the realization hit her. “Wait, is that why you stayed? That night, is that why you slept with me?”

“Shea—”

“What? It’s why you’re here. Why you came here in the first place. You came here to fuck me, figuratively and literally. And I’m a fucking idiot because I let you.”

“Things changed, Shea. Between us. You’ve got to know that. At first… yes,” Rhys admitted. “At first, I was here to work you.”

Hearing the words aloud made them seem so much more real, cutting deep and ripping into her gut. Shea closed her eyes against the look on his face as he said them. Trying to block them. Shea’s heart quit beating, time froze as the agony of his betrayal washed over her.

“But, sweetheart,” he continued, “I didn’t—“

“Don’t fucking ‘sweetheart’ me! You fucking cocksucker son-of-bitch. Don’t you dare!”

“We both started out with not such innocent ideas in this, Shea. You know that. You wanted nothing to do with me until I told you why I was here.”

“You mean, until you lied to me about why you were here!”

“Whatever! That’s water under the bridge. But you… you weren’t into me just to be into me. You had your own agenda.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Shea spat back at him. “I didn’t sleep with you for a land deal!” Shea shouted angrily.

Rhys narrowed his eyes and spoke in a dangerously quiet voice. “No, you slept with me to avoid one.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, he knew he was wrong. The fire that lit her eyes a moment ago was immediately gone, an empty, stricken look replaced it. He could see that she was shaking, fighting to keep control of the emotion building inside her. There was a moment that she stepped back in shock followed by a slight shake of her head.

“Fuck you,” she whispered. “And get the fuck out of my town.”

“Shea—” he started to walk towards her.

“Go,” she spat out at him. “Go back to your fucking boss and be his manipulative manwhore.”

Turning on her heel, she was gone.

Rhys sat in his cabin after Shea left. Fuck!  This was shit. She hated him. He knew she would when she found out, and he was right. She really, really hated him.

He hated himself.

He leaned forward placing his head in his hands, his fingertips pressing against his temples. How much time went by, he had no idea. Then McHugh was standing in the doorway. Holding out a check. Rhys just glared at him.

McHugh set the check on the table in front of Rhys. “Severance,” he said coolly. “I even threw in your hazard pay. After all, in spite of everything, you managed to get me what I needed.”

Rhys felt the rage boiling inside him. More than anything, he wanted to grab McHugh by his gaudy tie and choke the nasty little fucker until his glassy eyes popped right out of his head.

“I’ll expect you in the office next week to get your things. Check in at the front desk, and someone will escort you up.” McHugh turned to leave. “It was a good run, my boy. Too bad this little spitfire had to throw a wrench into the machine. Hope her hot little piece of ass was worth it.”

In a rush, Rhys had McHugh up against the wall, his forearm pressing against the pudgy little man’s throat. “You leave her the fuck alone, McHugh,” Rhys angrily growled.

“I won’t do a damn thing to her. I don’t have to. You’ve done it for me.” Like a sock to his gut, Rhys’ guilt lessened his hold, and McHugh pushed a little at Rhys’ shoulders, giving enough room that he could slip out the door. “My deal is now with Mr. James.” Rhys stood silent, defeated, as the older man quickly made his way down the stairs to his car.

Rhys closed the door to his room, leaning back and thudding his head against it as it latched.

He had to fix this. Somehow, he had to fix this.

For Shea…

Chapter 19 ~ The Anger

Shea bolted through the doors of the McHugh Corporation in a fury. The flight to Portland had been torture, a sick feeling in her gut. She’d never felt so helpless, even when her grandfather passed away. That had happened so fast, it was over before she even knew.

But now, knowing she was going to lose the very last of him. Of her life.

Buddy had a motherfucking check. He’d been spouting off about it all over town. He’d sold his claim to the land. That son-of-a-bitch McHugh had bought it right out from under her.

Without a word, Shea had jumped in her truck and drove to Missoula, hopping on the very next flight to Portland. Five hours later, here she was.

She stopped only long enough to look at the building directory for McHugh’s office, and, growing angrier with every step, she barreled past the reception desk and through the intern pool until she found it. Throwing his door open, she unleashed.

“You son-of-a-bitch, how did you do it!?”

“Well, Ms. Madison… What an unexpected surprise,” McHugh leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, puffing out his chest. “Have you heard the latest? It looks as though I’ve got an injunction. The paperwork is filed. Mr. James is the true owner of that land, and he has agreed to sell… to me. Nothing you can do.”

“What the hell? You act like it isn’t already done? Do you think I’m a fucking idiot?”

“It isn’t done,” McHugh ground out slowly, as though he was speaking to a child, “but it may as well be…”

“Bullshit! Buddy’s already got the check!”

McHugh’s expression changed, and his eyes darted to the open door behind Shea with a furious glare. “What the hell did you do?”

Shea whirled around to see Rhys in the doorway, dressed in a dark grey pinstripe suit, clean shaven, his hair slicked back. He looked different in his business attire, yet the same… still breathtakingly handsome.

Heartbreaking.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said softly with a warm smile, and Shea’s heart contracted at the gentle endearment. Rhys turned his gaze to McHugh. “I’ve learned from the best, McHugh. I worked fast. You know, kind of like you did when you got into my email. I just, um… got a little contact information for a few key players. Made a few calls. And Shea’s right. Buddy James has no rights to the land anymore. He did get a check. It’s done.”

This final betrayal seemed to rip Shea’s heart clean out of her chest. “How could you?” she whispered with a sob and pointed at McHugh. “This motherfucker is going to destroy the only real home I’ve ever had.”

“Just listen for a minute, Shea,” Rhys said steadily. “You don’t—“

“Dammit, Rhys!” Shea looked around the room, spying a decanter of whiskey on the wet bar beside her. Reaching over, she grabbed it and hurled it at him. Rhys ducked out of the way, and it hit the wall behind him, fine shards of crystal spraying across the room as the tears began to pour from her eyes. “God, after everything… how could you?” she whispered as she turned to rush from the room.

Rhys brushed a few scattered shards of glass and drops of whiskey from his suit jacket before he started to follow Shea out the door. He stopped for a moment to look over at McHugh.

“I told you that you wouldn’t be able to touch her. Kiss your fucking plans goodbye, McHugh.”

“What did you do?” the older man’s face was mottled with rage.

Rhys took another step towards the door, and paused again. “Oh, and, um… by the way, I sold off all my stock, too. I wasn’t really that interested in owning a part of this piece-of-shit company anymore. And, besides, it gave me the money for Buddy.”

“You sold it? All of it? To who?”

“Um, to your friend, uh… Langley wasn’t it? If I remember correctly, he was the one that was opposed to this venture from the start.” Rhys smiled bitterly at the man who had once pulled his strings. “Huh… you know, I think my shares give him a controlling interest.”

“But, my investors… they’ve already given me funds…”

“Hope you didn’t spend it all. They’ll probably want it back.” Rhys shrugged. “See ya, McHugh,” he flippantly tossed over his shoulder as he left the room. That had felt so very rewarding. Karma was such a bitch… and McHugh had it coming in spades.

Stepping out of the old man’s office, Rhys saw Shea boarding the elevator and angrily punching the button to go down. Tears were streaming down her face and she looked wrecked, absolutely distraught. Quickly, he bolted to the elevator just as the doors began to close, placing his hand in between to pop them back open.

Seeing him there, Shea began to shake her head. “No… go away,” she breathed out with a broken gasp.

Rhys stepped inside, and elevator doors closed behind him. Shea stood against one wall of the small space, Rhys at the other.

“It’s not quite what you think,” Rhys tried once again to explain.

“What part, Rhys? The you-fucking-me-for-my-land, or the you-snooping-into-my-email-to betray me. Or would it be the you-expediting-the-sale?” Her voice grew angrier with each remuneration of his sins. “What part do I not understand?” Her hands flew up to her eyes, to try and stem the flow of furious tears. “I don’t stand a chance now. I’ve lost it…”

Rhys took a few steps closer to her, slowly, as though she would bolt even though there was no place to run to in the small confines of the elevator. “McHugh doesn’t own the land, Shea.”

Confusion knit her brow as she tried to make sense of what he’d just told her. “But you just said… Buddy got a check.”

“From Dennis… your lawyer.”

“Dennis? Why?”

Rhys shook his head sadly. “I’m probably somewhat guilty of the first thing you said, or at least that was the plan. I’m definitely guilty of the second. But not the third. McHugh didn’t give buddy the check. I paid him off. I paid off Buddy to sign over any claim the land. To you…”

She eyed him with a confused and frustrated stare. “You’re right, I don’t understand.”

“I’ve worked for McHugh for a long time, and I’ve done so much dishonest, truly shitty stuff before I met you. And you should hate me. Because I did go there with the intent of fucking you over.” One more step forward, and he was so close. “But I didn’t plan to feel the way I did when I held you… when I touched you. It kind of fucked me up. It even kind of pissed me off. I told myself you were just playing me, too, and it strengthened my resolve.”

“I wasn’t playing you. I would have never done that.”

“I know. I realized that right away. But the damage had already been done. After that, when I saw you again,” Rhys continued, “I knew I couldn’t do it. That’s why I quit my job. I called McHugh and told him it was off. He threatened and blustered, but I couldn’t… I couldn’t do that to you.” He exhaled forcefully. “That—that call—was a huge mistake. He immediately had IT go through my email. That’s how he found out about Buddy.”

“You didn’t sell me out?” she softly questioned.

Rhys shook his head slowly from side to side, eyes locked onto hers.

“In fact, you paid Buddy off? To keep the land out of McHugh’s hands?”

He nodded, still looking at her intently… still not saying a word.

“Good God, you must be fucking loaded…”

Rhys shrugged. “Not really, not now especially. Plus,” he choked a small laugh, “now I’m even unemployed. But I had a bunch of stock in a shitty company that I wanted to dump anyway.”

“McHugh Corporation?” Shea asked with a ghost of a sad smile.

“Yeah… He’s lost his voting edge on the board now, too. He used to count on me to swing the votes his way.” A wry smile touched his lips. “I sold it to a guy who can’t stand him, who sees what a snake that fucker really is. A guy who is completely opposed to putting the resort there. I give McHugh about six weeks before the investors start to pull their money. More than likely, the company will end up folding. Reorganization at the very least…” Rhys shut his eyes tightly and took a deep breath. “It was wrong,” he said without looking up. “All that shit McHugh wanted me to do, all that shit that I did do… it was all so wrong.” His broad shoulders hunched slightly as he lifted his gaze to meet hers. “And then you… You should hate me.”

Shea slid down the wall to sit on the floor of the elevator. Her fingers steepled over her nose, pinching slightly at the bridge in frustration. “I was so mad at you.”

“I know,” he whispered. He stepped closer and squatted down before her. “My intentions at the beginning were mercenary. I went into Snowcreek thinking I’d charm the land right out from under you and that you’d thank me for it. I didn’t count on you, though. How I’d feel about you. How you’d make me feel about myself. None of that was an act.”

She sat quietly for a moment, soaking in the quiet words he was saying. Her hands lowered as her eyes lifted to his. “I’m still pissed at you.”

He smiled wryly. “Rightfully so, sweetheart.”

“…but, I’ve gotta say… you look really fucking hot in that suit,” Shea grumbled.

Rhys cocked his eyebrow and slanted a pained smile at her.

Shea exhaled heavily and threw her head back to rest against the wall of the elevator.

"What's wrong now?" Rhys asked softly.

Shea eyed him grumpily. "I'm not pissed at you, that's what. I came here to yell and let you have it, and now I can't. You saved it… you saved my home."

Rhys furrowed his brow in confusion. "I don't get it... You just said you're not pissed, but you still look kind of pissed."

"I'm pissed that I don't have any reason to be mad at you anymore. It's easier to be angry with you.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “It's easier to keep you at arms’ length."

Rhys cupped her cheek, lifting her gaze to meet his. He stared at her for a long moment, watching as her expression slowly changed, morphing into a heavy-lidded, intense stare. Shea wet her lips as her breath caught in her throat, rushed out, then caught again.

With a slight smile, her hand rose to his jaw, the smooth, clean-shaven skin seemed a bit foreign to her after his rugged Montana appearance. Sliding her hand around to the back of his neck, she used his strength to pull herself up to him and lightly, softly kiss his lips. Rhys wrapped his arms around her, crushing her up against his chest as his tongue parted her lips to stroke up against hers.

She surged against him, knocking him off balance and he fell against the floor, flat on his back, with her sprawled out on top of him. He was astounded that she was back in his arms, thrilled and elated. Her lips set him on fire, the sweet little moans that she breathed into his mouth.

“Rhys?” she whispered.

“Yeah?” he murmured back.

“Take me somewhere. Now… please...”

“God, what a hot and nasty little girl you are,” he groaned and Shea responded with an almost-girly giggle. “Fucking hell, I’ve missed you, sweetheart. I don’t know if I can wait long enough to get you somewhere.” He rolled the two of them over and pressed his hardening length against her. “I’d like nothing more than to spread you wide open and plow into you right here in this damn elevator.”

Shea laughed softly into a deep kiss. “That might get us in a little trouble.”

“I don’t fucking care…” Rhys said, capturing her lips again and kissing her ferociously. Suddenly, the elevator coasted to a stop and the doors opened. Rhys helped her to stand as a few onlookers gaped at them, looking rather disheveled and pulling themselves up off the floor.

“Okay, so maybe we should go back to my apartment,” Rhys suggested as he brushed a wayward lock of hair from her eyes.

“Works for me,” she softly agreed.

Fuck, she was beautiful. She was sweet. She wanted him. In that moment, Rhys felt like his cock was going to bust right out of his pants. He’d never in a million years wanted someone this badly. He leaned down to kiss her sweet lips once more, unable to resist their pull.

“Rhys?” Shea murmured again against his lips.

“Yeah, sweetheart?” he asked back.

“When we get there—when you fuck me,” she pulled hard on his tie, “I want you to wear the suit.”

Oh good God. He might just have to nail her in the damn car.

Chapter 20 ~ The Conscience

Rhys belted Shea into the passenger seat of his car, kissing her firmly with a promise of more. The tremble of her lips under his was heavenly.

He had thought he’d never see her again. He’d thought of her almost every second that they’d been apart, his mind feverishly working to undermine McHugh’s plans.

The first step had been selling the stock. As soon as Shea had left his little cabin after the explosive encounter with McHugh, Rhys had contacted Langley. The man had practically been giddy and arranged for the shares to be traded and the money to be deposited in Rhys’ account within the hour.

Then the lawyer… Shea’s lawyer. Without access to his work email anymore, Rhys struggled to remember his name, and finally an internet search turned up Dennis Frankforter’s office in Polson. Initially, the suspicious man hadn’t wanted to discuss anything, citing attorney-client privilege. But then, something Rhys had said changed in his mind.

“I’ll wire the money to you right away. I can have it to you in about an hour. Aside from providing the funds, I don’t want anything to do with this. I want it totally in her name, one-hundred percent solid.”

Dennis was silent for a moment as he considered this. “Why are you doing this, son?” he asked finally.

“I want her to be happy… secure. I don’t want anyone to take anything else from her. She doesn’t want much. She just wants what she already has.”

By the end of the conversation, Rhys had received the information he needed. An hour later, he was wiring the money, and three hours after that, he received word from Dennis that Buddy had signed an air-tight statement relinquishing any claim he might have on the land. Dennis had ensured the money was deposited by Buddy, just as a final acceptance of the agreement.

It was done.

McHugh couldn’t touch her land.

Two days later, Rhys had been sitting in his old office, packing up his personal belongings. Becky had stopped by, looking to start up again where they’d left off in the copy room. Rather contemptuously, though, he’d shooed her from the room, shuddering at the thought of being anywhere near her skanky ass.

Looking around him, he felt empty. He didn’t even want anything that he saw. Not a thing. It all reminded him of the heartlessness of his past working for McHugh. The cold décor, the impersonal clean lines of it all, it seemed so foreign to him after Shea’s warm little cabin in the woods. His heart ached as he thought of the days he had spent there, the phenomenal nights he had held her in his arms. His fingertips ached to caress her soft skin in the glow of the firelight.

He had felt healed, somehow. In the short time they were together, he had found a part of himself that he didn’t even know existed. A part of him that was still lost in the mountains around Snowcreek, Montana.

He could almost hear her voice shouting.

Wait…

That was her voice shouting!

Rhys raced towards McHugh’s office, and there she was.

Beautiful as ever…

…and spitting mad.

Holy shit! She didn’t know the land was hers.

Rhys spoke and watched with satisfaction as McHugh began to unravel with his news. It was almost an absolution. He knew it wouldn’t erase the past, but, for once in his life, he had actually done something good.

And now, Shea sat in his car as he drove through the city streets at a breakneck speed towards his apartment. His hand settled on her knee, and those gorgeous hazel eyes looked up at him.

Fuck…

She was here.

If only for a little while, she was here.

They pulled into the parking garage and he steered the car towards his reserved spot. The second the engine was shut off, they bolted from the car and were all over each other with a renewed fervor that rocked his soul.

He pinned her against the wall of the elevator as it rose to his floor. His hands were everywhere—cupping her face, gripping her hips, tangled in her hair. Almost as if he had to convince himself that she was real.

God, she was here.

With the ping of the doors that signaled they’d arrived at his level, he lifted her in his arms to carry her to his apartment. Shea’s lips traveled down his neck as he rushed down the hall, pressing her against the door while he fumbled to get his key in the lock.

He heard a gasp in the distance, but he didn’t care if anyone saw.

She was here.

That was all he cared about.

And then the door was open, and he set her down just inside, closing the world away. He whipped her sweatshirt over her head and threw it behind him as she began to undo her pants, walking backwards down the hallway. He guided her into the living room and up against the solid heavy arm of the couch. For a moment, Shea ducked low to push her jeans down her legs, and she kicked them off her ankles and threw her arms around his neck, kissing and sucking and biting his lip.

One of her small hands began to slide down his abs, causing all the muscles of his stomach to tighten in anticipation, and his hands reached behind her to flick the clasp of her bra before he removed it and tossed it to the side. Lowering her head to focus on what she was doing, Shea tugged at his belt, undoing his fly

“Christ, Shea…” he mumbled as she released him and stroked his hard length. “Feel how hard I am for you, baby. I can’t think of anything but you.”

He cradled her face in his hands, tugging it up to look at him, and he devoured her lips.

“I’ve missed you…” she whispered against his lips. “Oh Rhys, I’ve missed you.”

She squeezed him, gently massaging his balls and stroking the full throbbing length of him. Her fingertips exquisitely tortured him until he felt like he’d burst if he didn’t bury himself deep inside her immediately.

Rhys reached down to the back of her thighs and lifted slightly, almost seating her on the arm of the couch before tilting her so her body fell back. Her beautiful, sweet, wet pussy was displayed so perfectly before him in the low light. He thrust two thick fingers in her wetness and felt all her inner muscles grip them tightly as a low moan flew from her throat.

“I need to be inside you, Shea. I need to fuck you… hard and fast and rough.”

“Yes,” she groaned with a guttural sound. “Please, Rhys… fill me. Wreck me…”

Rhys slipped his fingers from her luscious, silky core and tugged her closer to him, tucking her legs along his ribs as he lifted her sex towards his pounding, painful erection. And then…

Oh God, finally.

He was inside her again.

He was home.

She was so hot and so ready that his forceful thrust ripped an orgasm from her almost the instant he filled her. His thick length bottomed out in her tight little grasping pussy as the shock waves wracked her petite form. She trembled around him, screaming out in the faint light of the room.

“Rhys, I’m coming!” Shea’s voice was hoarse with her cries. “Oh God, don’t stop. Don’t ever stop!”

She reached up to grab his tie and yanked him towards her as she shook. Rhys caught another scream with his lips, groaning with the flood of wetness around his throbbing cock, feeling the rhythmic tightening of her hot, wet sex clamping down around him.

He stilled for a moment, letting her come down to earth a little, cradling her body in his arms with his tongue delving deep in her mouth.

“Fuck…” Shea whispered. “You fucking me in that suit… Jesus Christ. You’re going to kill me.”

“Sweetheart, I’m not done…” Rhys growled and he pulled out of her and pulled her up to flip her over.

Her beautiful heart-shaped ass was in the air as she bent over the arm of the couch, and he pushed her legs tightly together as his cock probed for her depths. She was so tight like this, almost painfully contracted, and she beckoned him in farther with a circular motion of her hips. Rhys watched his wide length slide in her, back out, and in again. Every motion wrenched a deep moan from Shea. One of his hands held her hips steady as the other slid up her back to grab on to her long and wild hair, tugging slightly and pulling her head back. With a sharp cry, Shea’s body arched and she squeezed against him.

“Oh my God, Shea…” Rhys forced out between gritted teeth as he fought to control his release. Not yet… Fuck, please… not yet. But one more wave, one more tremulous ripple tore through her, and Rhys was lost, spilling himself, pouring his heart out inside her.

A soft light poured out of the bathroom, faintly illuminating the clean, crisp lines of his bedroom. Shea lay on her stomach, her face on the pillow turned toward his. Rhys skated his long fingertips along her shoulder blade, down her spine, along the soft curve of her ass. The tender touch caused tears to prick her eyes, triggering the emotions of seeing him again… of touching him again.

Shea lay quietly, not wanting to ruin the silent beauty of the moment, quite possibly the last they would have.

“I broke every one of my rules with you,” he whispered with a tender look in his eyes. “I never let myself feel anything. I never connected with anyone. I never wanted to make someone else happy. I was going through life playing a character…”

Shea’s throat constricted, and she swallowed forcefully.

“I’m a horrible person, Shea. Even worse, I never regretted it… I never had the faintest desire to do what was right. Not until I met you.”

“Rhys,” she said softly, ”somewhere inside, you were always capable… You have more heart than you know. Look what you did for me. You saved my home. I don’t know what I would have done.”

His eyes looked troubled as he gazed at her. “I had to help you because I was the one who almost ruined you.” Rhys’ brow knitted tightly. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

Tears pricked her eyes. Her lower lip trembled and a shaky breath escaped her lips. Rhys moved closer, rolling Shea to her back, and he rested his head on the softness of her breast. Shea fought the tears as his arms tightened around her, enveloping her in the sadness of his remorse.

“I don’t deserve to be forgiven. And I don’t know what is next for me. I don’t have anything left to lose. But I’m not the same man I was a few weeks ago. And, for that, I thank you…”

Tears began to stream from Shea’s eyes as this beautiful, strong man found peace in her arms. Her legs tightened around his waist, and her fingers smoothed the dark, messy curls of his hair. The coarse texture of his five o’clock shadow scraped the smooth skin of her breast as he nuzzled deeper, inhaling her as though, with that breath of her, his soul was nourished.

They lay like that for a long time. Shea’s tears dried and still she held him. She kissed the top of his head and soothed him with a tender caress over his muscular shoulders and arms. He slowly began to relax into sleep, and still, she grazed her fingers over his skin, comforting his tattered conscience.

And, finally, long after Rhys had slipped into a deep slumber, Shea’s own eyes grew heavy and she drifted off to sleep.

Chapter 21 ~ The Goodbye

Dressed in flannel sleep pants and a white cotton tee, Rhys stood looking out the windows at the morning sun peeking over the trees, a sliver of light streaking through the dense clouds.

He’d laid there for a good hour, if not more, watching Shea sleeping soundly beside him. A soft kiss on her forehead, and she’d whispered his name with a faint breath.

Rhys…

She was so honest, forthright. Her sweet smile or her angry glare… it was all so real. She didn’t hide who she was, what she wanted. All he had done throughout the years, the cold and deliberate way he’d lived, made him feel tainted… raw.

At least he’d been able to help her. Her security, lonely as it may seem to some, was her quiet little cabin up in the mountains. Her monstrous dog. Rhys ruefully smiled at the thought of Wolfie. Right up until Rhys had left Snowcreek, that dog had stared at him with a warranted suspicion, as though he knew what Rhys had buried deep inside. He was a smart fucker. Rhys hadn’t deserved his trust.

He hadn’t deserved Shea’s, either.

With a sip of his black coffee, Rhys heard a slight movement behind him. Shea stood in the hallway wrapped in a wrinkled dress shirt that must have been tossed over the chair by his bed. She was watching him sadly, her large hazel eyes sharp with pain. His heart constricted.

She was going to leave.

Rhys looked down into his cup. “Do you want some coffee?” he asked as he glanced back over at her.

“I, um… No. I need to get to the airport pretty quickly. My flight leaves in just under two hours.”

Rhys swallowed hard against the lump in his throat and nodded. “I’ll go get dressed and give you a ride.”

He passed close to her as he walked down the hallway to his bedroom. She wasn’t going to cry. She was tougher than that, and she could keep it inside… to herself. She wasn’t going to cry over a man she barely knew.

Even if he had turned her whole world upside down.

She crossed to the couch and pulled on her panties and jeans. She found her sweatshirt in the front hallway and her bra under a stool by the breakfast bar. She dressed quickly in a mechanical state and combed her fingers through her knotted hair as she looked in a mirror on the living room wall.

Her eyes were distant as they stared back at her. Her soul felt empty thinking about the flight home. For a moment, she considered staying… just for a few days.

But the words Rhys had said last night…

I don’t know what is next for me…

As much as it hurt to just walk away from him, the last thing he needed was her hanging onto him, dragging him back to Snowcreek with her. He needed to find what was next, on his own. He was so lost.

And as much as she wanted to help him, to hold him and comfort him and guide him, she knew he needed to do this himself. To find his place.

Fully dressed in a smooth, soft sweater and faded denim jeans, Rhys re-entered the room and slid his feet into a pair of shoes that sat beside the couch.

He stood and took a deep breath. “Ready, sweetheart?”

Shea nodded, not entirely sure she trusted her voice to speak.

He pulled on a jacket and picked up his keys from where he’d dropped them inside the door the night before.

“Do you need to stop anywhere? Hotel?”

Shea just shook her head, and quietly whispered. “I didn’t bring anything. I was so mad when I left Snowcreek, I didn’t even think about it.”

Rhys nodded and studied her for a moment. Then he held out his arm towards the main door to the apartment. “After you…”

He stood silently by Shea as they waited for her plane to board. There wasn’t much time left once they had reached the airport. The call for first class had just sounded, and the ache in his chest intensified viciously.

He wanted to ask her to stay. Or to let him come with her. He wanted… her. However he could get her.

But he didn’t deserve her.

And then, it was announced that she could board. It was time. She looked up at him with tearful eyes.

“Do me a favor, huh?” she sniffed. “When you figure things out… will you call me?”

He didn’t want to hurt her anymore. He wanted her to be happy. “I’m not sure what I’m doing, Shea. I have no idea what’s next.”

“I know…” With a catch in her voice, she rushed on. “And I’m not asking you to come rushing to me… or to be anything you don’t want to for me. I just want to know that you’re okay.”

“I will,” he said in a pained whisper. Rhys lifted his hand, using his thumb to brush away a tear that trailed down her soft cheek. “I promise.”

Her breath shuddered and his other hand slid into her hair, pulling her lips up towards his.

He kissed her goodbye with a soft gentleness that he didn’t know he held. With the touch of his lips, he tried to express how much she had affected him. How the warmth of her soul had melted his frozen heart. How she has made him a better man.

He pulled back and gazed down one last time at her tearful eyes. He couldn’t speak as she slowly pulled away and walked towards her gate.

Chapter 22 ~ The Spring

Spring was starting to peek through the receding snow. Heading back down the trail from a long hike, Shea noted a few little green shoots of glacier lilies poking their way through the frigid snow. As she got closer to her cabin and the frozen layer began to recede, dainty yellow blooms began to appear. A few more weeks, and the mountainsides would be covered with alumroot and Indian paintbrush, giving way later in the summer to asters and harebells.

He hadn’t called. Maybe he never would.

She had anticipated this bereft loneliness, way back when she gave into the aching need he had instilled in her. But in spite of the seemingly eternal rift in her soul, she wouldn’t change a thing. She had received something special in that short little snapshot of time. Something beautiful that she could look back on and hold close to her heart.

For that short time, she had felt a glimmer of what could have been love. She had almost felt loved in return. And even though it was now over, it had been so worth the loneliness that still hovered over her like a dark cloud. The warmth of those moments in the firelight carried her through the cold winter nights. It had only been a few days, a sliver of time in the long the Montana winter, but she had known he would leave a mark.

Four months since she’d heard from him, since she’d seen him and touched him. Since she’d boarded her plane to come home.

And she missed him every day.

Where was he? How was he?

As Shea hiked out of the thicket of trees behind her cabin, Wolfie’s ears pricked forward, and he bounded ahead of her with a deep and throaty bark. Probably some poor innocent little ground squirrel who had ventured out of his warm little burrow to look for something to eat. Crazy dog…

Walking towards the woodshed to grab an armload of firewood, she saw an unfamiliar pickup truck parked in front of her place. For a second, her hopes rose, thinking maybe it was Rhys.

Stop it, Shea, she berated herself sternly. She did this every time. Every time she saw a strange vehicle on the mountain roads or pulling into town. And every time, her heart broke once more.

It wasn’t him.

He hadn’t even called.

But then a gentle, deep voice caught her ear. Her steps quickened as she rounded the little cabin, and then her heart veritably stopped at the sight before her.

There was Rhys sitting on her the top stair of her porch. Wolfie’s tail wagged in recognition as he tried to lick the man’s face.

“Hey, old boy…” he was chuckling softly to the large dog, scratching him behind the ears. “Where’s Shea, huh?”

He was dressed in a blue plaid flannel shirt and jeans, a down vest over his broad torso to ward off the late spring chill. His hair was a little longer, and his jaw was covered in a thick scruff of beard. A small sob escaped from her throat, drawing his attention, and his strikingly deep blue eyes lifted to hers.

Shea couldn’t move. Just a tremor through her body as her brain tried to process the fact that he was there, flesh and blood before her. Wolfie nudged him with a heavy nose, and Rhys stroked the dog’s thick fur for another moment while he stared at Shea. Finally, he rose and took a few steps towards her.

“Hey…” he said softly.

“You didn’t call…” Shea’s voice cracked with the emotion flooding through her.

“I wanted to, sweetheart,” he murmured. “Every day. Every minute of these last few months.” He looked down at his feet for a moment and lifted his head again, scrubbing his hand over his scruffy chin. “Shea… I feel so unworthy.” His voice trailed off and he shook his head. “I’ve been trying to figure out who I am, because nothing’s the way I thought it was. The guilt I feel for everything I’ve done is overpowering. I’ve been trying to figure out how to make things right… to absolve my sins, I guess.”

Shea took a step closer, then another. “Rhys, you can’t just undo everything that happened.”

His brow knitted with frustrated scowl, and he took a deep breath. “I know… I just wanted you to know that, the pain I caused you, it altered me somehow. Seeing how much I hurt you… I never want to hurt someone like that again. That drowning regret hits me every time I think of you.” He looked at the ground again, shuffling his feet nervously. “Part of me hoped you weren’t alone anymore. That you had found someone who made you happy. The other part of me wanted to fucking murder anyone who might have touched you.”

Shea gave him a wistfully sad smile. “Rhys, I’m twenty-eight years old. I was married for three years, and it’s been seven since I left my husband and came home. But, in just those few short days, you made me feel more than I ever did with him… with anyone. It was kind of a once-in-a-lifetime thing, I think. Do you really think I would rush off and start something new with someone else?”

With another couple steps, Shea stood only a hair’s breadth away, and the familiar scent of Rhys infused her with the strength to speak in a strong, calm tone.

“I should regret it all. I didn’t want to be drawn to you. And I felt so betrayed…”

His head dipped low and to the side. Shea caught his jaw with her mittened hand, and urged his gaze back to hers as she softly spoke.

“But I don’t regret any of it. Not even a second. Because, in spite of how I fought it, I think I actually needed you.” Her voice dropped to a whisper as she lifted her lips towards his. “I love you…”

Rhys felt all the breath leave his body with those three little words. He pulled her tightly in his arms as his lips crushed down to hers.

She loved him.

Fuck… after all the shit he pulled, she loved him.

“God, Shea,” he murmured against her lips. “I don’t deserve you.”

Shea backed away slightly, framing his face with her hands. “You saved me. I didn’t even know I was lonely. I was so afraid of my heart breaking that I had myself convinced I didn’t want love.” Her hazel eyes swam with unshed tears. “But I was just dying inside, slowly and all alone… until you. You brought me to life.”

Rhys gathered her small, soft body close to him as she embraced him and buried her face in his neck. He lifted her against him, straightening until her feet dangled in the air.

“I love you, Shea…” he whispered. “I’ve never loved anything in my life like I love you.”

Epilogue ~ The Dream

Two years later…

Rhys walked down the stairs into the unfinished greatroom with an appreciative eye. Now that the walls were closed in, the windows were installed, and the rockwork on the fireplaces had been completed, he could almost picture everything in its place.

Wolfie’s bed in the corner, thick and soft to rest the big old dog’s weary bones. A large table in the dining area near the wide-open kitchen, big enough to seat ten with ease. The glass doors that opened onto a large deck looking out west across the gulch, perfectly aligned to catch the glorious Montana sunsets.

And one of the rooms was entirely finished out. With a little help from Michelle, it looked incredible.

It had taken him almost a year to convince Shea to build. Sometimes he’d cajole her, sometimes he’d sweet-talk her, sometimes he’d piss her off just to see the fire light up in her eyes. Then he’d ravish her until she was begging for release.

Through it all, though, Shea couldn’t bear the thought of leaving her grampa’s cabin behind. Nor did she want to alter it with more rooms. It was sacred to her. As much as Rhys understood this, he wanted a space for the two of them, a space they could grow into.

And so he continued to cajole and sweet-talk and piss her off and then ravish her until she begged.

And then one day, it hit him. He started to sketch out a plan.

After coming back to Snowcreek, back home to Shea, he’d begun to work with an architecture firm in Polson. Twice a week, he’d make the long drive into town, spending long hours there meeting with clients. The trade-off was that he was able to work from home the rest of the time.

When this idea had come to him, he spent every spare minute creating his vision of the perfect home. The blueprints grew and expanded until he had the specs all mapped out. A similar look, almost identical from the front, but bigger, roomier. A wing on the back with a few extra rooms on the main floor and an expansion of the loft above.

Plenty of room for the both of them.

Plenty of room for a family.

When he was done, he had taken the original sketch and cleaned it up, in essence creating a smaller copy of the design. Rhys rolled it tightly until it could fit through a dainty silver Yogo sapphire ring.

With his heart in his throat, he walked over to where Shea sat in front of the fireplace staring into the flames. It was their first fire of fall. The days were getting shorter and the nights were getting colder. But the smell of the pine burning in the fireplace brought the warm memories back to him.

Some scorchingly hot ones as well.

The facets of the large, light blue stone glimmered in the flickering firelight as he walked up behind the couch. Rhys didn’t say a word. He simply slid the rolled up plans along her shoulder.

“What’s this?” she had murmured absentmindedly, but then she froze at the sight of the ring. She slowly sat up straighter, turning to look up at him.

“It’s a surprise.” Rhys said back, his voice deep and warm.

“It’s a ring.” Shea’s eyes warily rose to look at him.

“It’s more than that, sweetheart.”

Shea gently slipped the ring off the rolled paper and held it cradled in the palm of her hand. On a delicate silver band, the unique dusty blue gem was set in the center with a few smaller diamonds on either side. Rhys watched her closely as she studied it. It was the perfect ring for her. Not huge and ostentatious, but delicate and sweet.

So very, very Shea.

He gently took the rolled up paper from her and unfurled it to reveal the drawing it held, drawing Shea’s attention from the ring that was cupped in her palm.

“What is this? Plans? Rhys, we talked about this. I don’t want to change Grampa’s cabin…”

“It’s not for this cabin…” Rhys motioned to the small cabin around them. “But we’ll build out in front, on this land, down the hill a little. And this, your grampa’s place, can be your own. To do your transcription, or maybe a guesthouse. Maybe just a quiet place to read or relax. Whatever you want. It will be untouched, kept whole.” Then he tapped his finger lightly on the plans. “But this one is bigger. The overall scale is about double.” He pointed to the diagram for the second story. “Upstairs in the loft, this can be my office for the days I work from home. These doors will open into the master bedroom that spans the whole upper level of this wing. A big bathroom with a nice soaker tub. A beautiful retreat… just for you and I.”

Shea nibbled at her lip, and looked up at him with a soft, adoring smile. “Rhys, this whole house is kinda for you and I, isn’t it?”

“Not totally,” Rhys shook his head. “The lower level of this new wing, under the master… it’s got a few more bedrooms.”

Shea looked back down at the blueprint spread out before her, and then she grinned sweetly. “Family-sized?”

Rhys nodded. “Yeah, family-sized.”

“And this?” She held up the ring. “So is this what I think it is?” she whispered as she studied it.

“Yeah,” Rhys soft answered. “I love you, Shea. I need you. You’re my lifeline. I want to marry you. And I know what this little cabin means to you. I don’t ever want you to have to leave. So, I want to stay here… with you… forever.”

Shea looked back at the ring in her palm. Slowly, deliberately, she placed it on her left ring finger. Then she turned around, kneeling on the couch, and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and kissed him hard.

“Okay,” she murmured against his lips. “Deal…”

On midsummer night of Shea’s thirtieth year, she walked through a path to a small clearing in the trees. She was dressed in a simple, long sheath dress draped with a silky, diaphanous material. Sparkly slipper flats (Shea had quickly vetoed Rhys’ request for heels) covered her feet, and the sparkles caught the faint light as they peeked out beneath the skirt.

Michelle and Shea had woven what seemed like a gazillion strings of solar lights through the branches of the surrounding trees, and, combined with the bright moon, they cast an iridescent glow over the small gathering. A small number of people from town sat in the small audience of chairs… even Trinity, because there was no way she was going to miss this. Michelle’s boys stood by Wolfie, Sam holding the big dog steady while Joey carried a little round box cut out of a short and narrow log with a little carving in the bark along the outside.

It was hollowed out and inside were two silver bands.

Jenna stood by her mother, both with harebells and shooting stars woven through their hair, both of them holding small bouquets of wildflowers similar to the one Shea carried. Robert stood just across from Michelle… next to Rhys.

Rhys in a suit.

Damn he looked hot in a suit.

Shea’s eyes pricked with tears as her heart felt outgrown. Bursting at the seams.

Her breath caught in her throat, and she leaned a little on the arm of the man beside her. His weathered hand patted her small, delicate one, and she glanced up into the eyes that were so familiar. An older version of the ones she loved so dearly—a bit of crow’s feet and some deep smiles lines.

Looking at Rhys’ dad, she felt a frisson belonging that had so long eluded her. He would now be family. Grampa to her future children. And, as soon as the new house was finished, he would be moving in the little cabin behind it, living there just as her own grampa had.

“Let’s go, sweetheart,” Thomas Weland said with a gentle smile. “My boy’s never been the most patient fella in the world.”

The rest of the evening was a bit of a dream. A lovely swirl of hugs and kisses and the sweetest of words.

I do… forever and ever…

The night wore on and the guests began to leave. Michelle and Robert stayed for a bit, putting their kids to work cleaning up. Finally, they too said their goodbyes, and Rhys swooped Shea up into his arms, holding her tightly against his chest.

“I have one last little surprise…” he murmured.

Shea looped her arms around his neck and kissed the bristly, coarse hair on his jaw. “What is it?” she asked playfully.

“Close your eyes,” he whispered.

For a second, with a mischievous glint in her eyes, he thought she might challenge him a little. But then her eyes drifted closed and she buried her face in his neck, inhaling deeply as though she could breathe him in.

He carried her into the new house and up the split-pine stairs. Through his would-be office space. Through the double doors leading to their future bedroom.

“Okay, sweetheart… open…”

Shea’s eyes went wide as she looked at the room before her. Michelle’s last chore had been to rush up here and light the candles that were scattered on every level surface throughout the room. The large log-frame bed was made up with soft, plaid flannel sheets, piles of pillows, and a heavy down quilt. The fireplace along one wall had a lovely little blaze dancing about and tossing shadows across the room.

Rhys lowered her to the floor as she gaped around her, and he watched her with fascination. He gently kissed her soft, auburn curls, the tendrils dotted with wildflowers, and murmured softly in her ear.

“Like it?” he asked.

Shea turned around in his arms. “It’s beautiful. How did you do this?”

“Your, um… your kiwi helped. A lot. As much as I’d like to take all the credit, she’s the one with the decorative touch. I kinda mentioned that I’d like to stay in here tonight, and she said ‘Sweet as!’ and went to town.” His forehead furrowed. “What the fuck does ‘sweet as’ mean?”

Shea laughed softly. “Kiwi-ism,” she explained. “I’m not sure I understand it either.” She brushed her fingertips along his jaw, studying him lovingly. “So this… this was all your idea?’

He nodded slowly.

“Good God, I love you,” Shea murmured as she lifted her lips for his kiss.

It started so gently. Rhys tenderly kissed his wife, sweetly pouring the depth of his love into her. With a whimper, Shea pressed closer, triggering the wildness to build inside him.

Shea put her hand to his chest, pushing him back slightly.

“I have a little surprise for you, too…” she smiled as she bit her lip and took a step back. Reaching behind her, she slowly pulled the zipper down at the back of her dress. Then she lowered the straps and slowly let the gown slip to the floor.

She was standing there before him in only her sparkly little shoes and thigh-high stockings. Nothing else…

Rhys groaned. “Fuck, sweetheart…” he swallowed hard. “You were fucking naked under that dress?”

“Yeah,” Shea said with a quiet, breathy voice. “I seem to recall that you kinda liked the whole no-panty look before.”

“Oh… you have no idea…” Rhys muttered with a wicked smile.

Shea slowly stepped towards him, hypnotizing him as she moved in the warm light. She stood close to him and touched her fingertips to his jaw, sliding them back into his hair and urging his lips down to hers.

They lightly kissed, Shea’s lips dancing along his, her tongue slipping into his mouth, drawing him more firmly into the kiss. Her hands slid down to the front of his shirt, and she began to undo the buttons while her kisses moved down his neck to savor the skin she was slowly uncovering.

Once all the buttons had been undone, her small hands slowly pushed his suit jacket and shirt from his shoulders in one bundle of fabric. Shea’s arms circled his neck and she stretched against him, pressing her soft naked curves to him, lifting her lips for another sweet kiss.

Rhys tangled his fingers in her hair, dislodging the wildflowers that had been scattered amongst her curls. He kissed her firmly, ravenously, sweetly. One of his hands slid down the bare skin of her back to rest on the naked curve of her ass, and he cupped it gently and smiled against her lips.

“My sweet little wife, standing in front of half the town, talking to the preacher… with no fucking panties on.” His lips swept over hers again before he murmured, “You dirty, dirty girl…”

Shea giggled and ducked her head to watch her hands slide down his sculpted abs towards the buckle of his belt. As she began to work him free, his hands grazed along her shoulders, down to follow the soft curves of her breasts, lifting them and lightly pinching at her hardened nipples. Shea’s breathing grew labored with his possessive, worshipping touch. Rhys kicked off his shoes, groaning aloud when she released him, stroking him firmly as she rained kisses across his broad chest.

“Arms around my neck, sweetheart,” he gruffly said, and she complied, pulling herself tightly against him and straining to reach his height. Their breath mixed in the scant space between them, and Shea began to tremble with anticipation.

Rhys leaned down, skimming his hands across her hips, over the curve of her ass, and down along the back of her thighs. He gripped her and lifted, bringing her flush up against him, raising her until she was lined up with his throbbing length. Shea whimpered breathlessly as he penetrated her hot core, then moaned a heady sound as he pushed her tightly against him to fill her completely.

At first, they barely moved, savoring the connection, their intimate bond. Slowly, Rhys lowered his head, his lips slipping past hers to trail down her neck. Kissing, nibbling, sucking lightly at the tender skin. Shea squirmed a little, her hips moving in small circles that slid her up and down on his swollen length.

Rhys felt weakened in the knees at the sensation, the heaven of her gripping heat squeezing and pulling at his hard cock. He stepped towards the bed and, without breaking their intimate contact, he laid her down covering her. Sheltering her small body beneath him and cradling her head in his hands. His lips found hers for a long, hard kiss, mimicking the touch of his hardness inside her as he pressed deeply into her with long, strong strokes. Shea let out a trembling moan.

“Mine...” he whispered against her skin. “My sweet, delicious wife.” His kisses left her lips and trailed across her collarbone, down over the swell of her breast, firmly suckling at her nipple. His tongue explored her tender flesh, alternating a steady suction with light nips.

“Baby,” Shea choked out against his hair, her body curling around him and holding him tightly to her, “I love you, Rhys. Oh, God… I love you.”

Rhys lifted his head to look down at her, her features soft with the erotic sensations, her eyes shining with deep emotion. His arms encircled her, pulling her shoulders up from the bed slightly as he kissed her long and hard. Protectively, he enveloped her in his body, wanting to absorb her into him, to fuse them together.

“So fucking sweet, Shea…” he whispered against her lips. “Oh, God… you’re mine now. All mine…”

His words triggered something inside her, and he felt the rhythmic constrictions of her vaginal walls clamping down around him. It was almost too much, her soft cries and her shaking body, the way she gasped and tightened and unfurled around him. But he rode through her orgasm, slowing his thrusts to kiss her deeply, to sweetly caress her cheeks and her eyelids with his lips, to gently bring her back down so he could build her passion again.

“Mine… my wife…” he groaned.

“Yes, baby… yours,” she whimpered with each slow, drawn-out thrust. “Yours… I’m all yours… I love you...”

He continued to stroke deeply inside her, rebuilding her need. He kissed her passionately, lovingly and trailed his lips down her neck as she began to grow mindless with the pressure once again swelling up within her. Rhys lifted up to his elbows to look down at her as she writhed beneath him.

“You’re gonna come again, aren’t you, sweetheart,” he asked roughly.

“Oh my God,” she gasped. Her fingernails cut into his skin, urging him to be rough and wild. “Oh please, Rhys…oh please…”

And then she was coming undone around him once more, her erotic cries reverberating off the solid cabin walls. Rhys groaned, the sound coming from deep in his chest, as he felt her compress and shake around his hard length with shuddering, rhythmic constrictions.

“That’s it, sweetheart…” Rhys moaned as he began to thrust faster. “Oh, Shea, yeah. I love to watch you explode around me.”

Her breath caught in her throat as another wave took hold of her. All Rhys could focus on was his throbbing length inside her. Her voice was raw from the sharp exhalations and raspy cries. The tight pressure of her muscles around him, and the wet slap of their skin. Suddenly, his arms tightened, grasping her against him, and the hot wash of his passion exploded deep within her core as he let loose with a guttural groan.

He collapsed against her, melting into her, faint with breathless emotion. Sheltering her in his arms, Rhys softly brushed the hair from her eyes and set a gentle kiss on her lips.

“I love you, Shea,” he murmured, “so fucking much…”

“I love you…” she whispered back against his mouth, with a voice that sounded purely exhausted and dreamy.

For a while, they just lay there, their lips meeting in soft caresses, faint breathy words of love floating between them. Shea pressed her cheek against the bare skin over his heart, inhaling his scent and soaking him in. Rhys brushed her hair from her face with his fingertips, smoothing it over the pillow as he pressed light kisses along her hairline.

“My wife…” he murmured softly, and her lethargic arms tightened faintly against him.

“I love you, Rhys,” she breathed. Wrecked and sated, Shea tucked her face against his chest, her breath tickling the course smattering of hair.

The room began to darken as the glow from the fire died down. Rhys lifted her gently against him and pulled the soft blankets down, peeling off her stockings and tucking her weary body into the warm flannel sheets. After getting up to place another piece of wood in the fireplace, he joined her in the warm bed, gathering her against him and holding her securely in the warm flickering light of their new bedroom. Gently, he caressed the smooth skin of her back, skimming across her curves, soothing her and lulling her to sleep.

She was eternally his.

His lifeline.

His love.

His wife.

The End

Excerpt from Broken Truth

By Beth Ashworth

Sitting on a stool at the breakfast bar, Charlie nervously tapped her fingers against the white granite counter top whilst watching the hands tick by on the large kitchen clock. Her tummy was filled with the usual pre-weekend butterflies before Callum came home.

With her free hand, Charlie shyly fingered the flimsy material of her black satin nightie. It was one of the many unnecessary purchases she had made during her shopping spree with Lucy after work. From new lingerie to designer evening gowns, they had managed to add to the already bulging expanse of clothing that Charlie owned.

“Oh, Callum won’t mind,” Lucy had continuously repeated throughout the afternoon as they made use of the platinum credit card he had given her a few months ago.

After arranging for Charlie’s wages to be transferred into a savings account each month, Callum had made sure to set her up with an additional card on his account. He had claimed that it was for her benefit and enjoyment, but secretly she knew it was his way of monitoring what she did whilst he was away.

Although apprehensive at first, Charlie soon found that the small piece of silver was her gateway to the more expensive items in life. Instead of saving every penny from her earnings to buy the latest pair of designer shoes, she now had the power to buy the same pair in as many colours as she could possibly fit in her wardrobe. It was a life she couldn’t have even dreamed of and she made sure she was thankful everyday whilst it continued.

The apartment’s intercom system buzzed noisily, jolting Charlie from her thoughts. Jumping up from her position at the breakfast bar, she hurried towards the intercom phone on the opposite side of the kitchen.

“Hi John, is he here?” she practically squealed, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet.

“Yes, Miss Harris. His electronic fob has just been used on the underground garage. He should be with you shortly,” he replied.

“Thanks John,” Charlie said as she disconnected the call and placed the phone back on to the wall receiver.

Knowing Callum was mere minutes away, she moved swiftly through the apartment to wait by the private penthouse lift. Fidgeting nervously with her hands, she watched as the numbers on the panel steadily increased through the floors of the building. Growing more and more impatient, she eventually heard the heart stopping ding of the doors opening and Callum’s smooth and sensual voice as it echoed across the marbled foyer.

“Damn, Baby,” he growled, running an appreciative eye over her body as he entered the foyer. “You look absolutely gorgeous.”

With a little squeal of excitement, Charlie found herself rushing straight into Callum’s open and waiting arms. His firm and strong grasp held her body tightly against his as his mouth dipped low to claim her lips in a ferocious and practically starved kiss.

She felt his hands slowly drift down the length of her back to cup her bottom, before he squeezed tightly to encourage her to wrap her legs around his waist. She complied silently, raising one leg to his hip so that Callum could lift her effortlessly against him.

Sliding her hands to lock around the nape of his neck for support, Charlie gasped at the feel of his erection straining against the material of his trousers.

“You feel that, Baby?” he rasped breathlessly, looking at her with eager and desire filled eyes that penetrated straight through to the centre of her heart. She shivered nervously from the tingling pleasure his gaze could elicit from her body. “My dick has been as hard as steel for five fucking days thinking about you. I’ve lost count how many times this week I’ve thought about ramming my dick in your hot little pussy, Baby,” he growled roughly against the lobe of her ear. Charlie licked her lips and moaned against his mouth. “You want that don’t you? My dick pounding into that pretty, pink pussy of yours?” he asked as he walked forwards with Charlie held firmly in his arms.

Keeping her eyes fixed on Callum, Charlie heard the sound of the flower vase scrape across the stone table before it shattered loudly against the floor. Without breaking their eye contact, Callum lowered her body onto the cool hardness of the table in the centre of the penthouse’s foyer.

Broken Truth by Beth Ashworth

Copyright © 2013 Beth Ashworth

Available now!

Amazon US:

http://www.amazon.com/Broken-Truth-Beth-Ashworth-ebook/dp/B00GOJF290

Amazon UK:

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Broken-Truth-Beth-Ashworth-ebook/dp/B00GOJF290

Music that inspired the story

Listen to Sibylla’s In the Firelight playlist on Spotify

http://open.spotify.com/user/sibyllamatilde/playlist/6GPKpEwjupFZVB0K8ZaYdO

Set Fire to the Rain ~ Adele

Fire ~ Augustana

Howlin’ For You ~ The Black Keys

Lonely Boy ~ The Black Keys

Run Right Back ~ The Black Keys

Royal Blue ~ Cold War Kids

Fire Starter ~ Demi Lovato

Lonely Lonely ~ Feist

Born and Raised ~ John Mayer

Roar ~ Katy Perry

Be Still ~ The Killers

Shot At The Night ~ The Killers

Beautiful War ~ Kings of Leon

Comeback Story ~ Kings of Leon

Coming Back Again ~ Kings of Leon

Don’t Matter ~ Kings of Leon

I Want You ~ Kings of Leon

Last Mile Home ~ Kings of Leon

On the Chin ~ Kings of Leon

Rock City ~ Kings of Leon

Sex On Fire ~ Kings of Leon

Temple ~ Kings of Leon

Tonight ~ Kings of Leon

Work On Me ~ Kings of Leon

Castle of Glass ~ Linkin Park

Waiting for the End ~ Linkin Park

A World Alone ~ Lorde

Teardrop ~ Massive Attack

The Burn ~ Matchbox Twenty

Sanctified ~ Nine Inch Nails

Terrible Lie ~ Nine Inch Nails

The Hand That Feeds ~ Nine Inch Nails

Give It 2 U ~ Robin Thicke

Set Fire to the Third Bar ~ Snow Patrol

Battle of One ~ Thirty Seconds to Mars

Closer To the Edge ~ Thirty Seconds to Mars

Conquistador ~ Thirty Seconds to Mars

End of All Days ~ Thirty Seconds to Mars

Other books by Sibylla Matilde

Little Conversations

available at Amazon.com and Amazon UK

Acknowledgements

First and foremost, I need to thank all the readers who loved Little Conversations. Writing it simply started out as a way to get the story out of my brain, and you guys loved it and asked for more. The pressure is on. I hope this one doesn’t suck!

Also, thank you to my husband, the love of my life. Yeah, I’m a mushy perv, but you ‘get’ me like nobody else. Thank you for not complaining too much when I sit like a lump on the couch with my laptop for hours on end. Someday, I promise to cook and clean and do all those other ‘wife’ things. In the meantime, you’re very good at helping me work off the pressure of writing a dirty, dirty book.

To my SmutSisters and my pimp, thanks for letting me bounce ideas off you. You inspire me in all kinds of crazy ways and, for some reason, seem to find me entertaining enough to keep around. Love you bitches.

Oh, and, speaking of inspiration…

Henry… mmmm…

Manuel… yum…

To my kids, you better not be reading this. There are some aspects to your mother that it is just best that you never know about.

And finally, to my own parents. You’ve assured me that you will not read my books. And for that I thank you. Kinda the same vein as the kid thing.

About Sibylla

Sibylla Matilde grew up in the mountain valleys of Southwest Montana, and grew up exploring the alfalfa fields on the back of a horse. She attended a two-room schoolhouse 1st through 6th grade where she had same teacher the whole time. Beginning at about age 12, Sibylla discovered historical romance, feeding off of work of Jude Devereaux, Lisa Kleypas, and Karen Robards. She loves a book that can make the reader run the gamut of emotions, from the sweet glow of new love to gut-wrenching heartache. She always has stories floating around in her head, living in some fantasyland until she writes them down to free them. She is a true romantic, a bit of a Pollyanna, and a deeply emotional soul.

Music is her emotional trigger. Growing up with a Wagnarian-opera-loving mother, Sibylla grew up with music that digs deep into her soul and pulls out emotion. The soundtrack to her life includes different genres and generations. She looooooooves Thirty Seconds to Mars (rather obsessively, actually) with a little Kings of Leon to mix things up, and pimps them out regularly to all her friends through Spotify. She also enjoys watching Met Opera HD broadcasts at her local movie theater, and hopes (listening Met?) to someday see Diana Damrau reprise her role as Mozart’s Queen of the Night in Die Zauberflöte – The Magic Flute.

Sibylla lives with her husband, Mike, a man who she firmly believes saved her from her self-destructive, hot mess self. He makes her laugh every day, even when things seem to be falling apart around them, and has proved to her that love really can heal a shattered soul. In 18 years, they have never had a fight, but argue regularly with their two teenage kids who have, unfortunately, inherited their father’s quick wit (unfortunate as it is a quick wit that Sibylla, herself, definitely does not possess – there is a reason she is a writer and not a stand-up comedian), and live a quiet life with their two weird little rescued Chiweenies. Wait… teenagers and little yap-dogs? Okay, maybe not so quiet.

Goodreads author page:

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7226522.Sibylla_Matilde

Facebook profile:

https://www.facebook.com/sibylla.matilde.5

Facebook author page:

https://www.facebook.com/SibyllaMatilde

Pinterest:

http://www.pinterest.com/LETObsessed/boards/

Twitter:

https://twitter.com/SibyllaMatilde

Table of Contents

Table of Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1 ~ The Cabin

Chapter 2 ~ The Target

Chapter 3 ~ The Guest

Chapter 4 ~ The Store

Chapter 5 ~ The BFF

Chapter 6 ~ The Meeting

Chapter 7 ~ The Bar

Chapter 8 ~ The Escape

Chapter 9 ~ The Night

Chapter 10 ~ The Fire

Chapter 11 ~ The Morning

Chapter 12 ~ The Dress

Chapter 13 ~ The Dinner

Chapter 14 ~ The Library

Chapter 15 ~ The Surrender

Chapter 16 ~ The Truce

Chapter 17 ~ The Awakening

Chapter 18 ~ The Betrayal

Chapter 19 ~ The Anger

Chapter 20 ~ The Conscience

Chapter 21 ~ The Goodbye

Chapter 22 ~ The Spring

Epilogue ~ The Dream

Music that inspired the story

Excerpt from Broken Truth

Acknowledgements

About Sibylla

Table of Contents

Table of Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1 ~ The Cabin

Chapter 2 ~ The Target

Chapter 3 ~ The Guest

Chapter 4 ~ The Store

Chapter 5 ~ The BFF

Chapter 6 ~ The Meeting

Chapter 7 ~ The Bar

Chapter 8 ~ The Escape

Chapter 9 ~ The Night

Chapter 10 ~ The Fire

Chapter 11 ~ The Morning

Chapter 12 ~ The Dress

Chapter 13 ~ The Dinner

Chapter 14 ~ The Library

Chapter 15 ~ The Surrender

Chapter 16 ~ The Truce

Chapter 17 ~ The Awakening

Chapter 18 ~ The Betrayal

Chapter 19 ~ The Anger

Chapter 20 ~ The Conscience

Chapter 21 ~ The Goodbye

Chapter 22 ~ The Spring

Epilogue ~ The Dream

Music that inspired the story

Excerpt from Broken Truth

Acknowledgements

About Sibylla