From the outside the structure looked extremely rustic—like a miner’s cabin with its rough cedar siding and steep shingled roof—unless you paid attention to the details. Every element of the building’s design and landscaping had been intricately planned and cared for in a way that only those with a surplus of money could achieve. The windows gleamed like diamonds in the setting sun, and not even a trace of the snow that had fallen on and off during the day remained on the walk or front steps.
Gavin opened the door. “Come in.”
Said the spider to the fly. Her legs trembled as she climbed the steps.
The only way to conquer your fears is to face them.
Russell’s voice echoed in her head, startling her. She didn’t want to think about him now, didn’t want to remember his overlapped-tooth smile, his bravery or anything else about him when she had another man’s seed still deep in her womb and she was about to embark on something as sordid as a cheap, temporary, meaningless affair.
The urge to turn and run barreled into her chest like a runaway horse, but she gathered her flagging courage and crossed the threshold. Strangely, excitement intermingled with shame.
Gavin flicked a switch and a chandelier made from antlers and candelabra bulbs cast a cozy light over the large open space with its steep vaulted ceiling. “I’ll take your coat.”
Before she could protest he stood behind her, waiting to help her remove the garment. She reluctantly shrugged it off and hugged herself, not because she was cold, but because she was totally out of her element. How did one go about a tempestuous affair anyway?
After hanging their coats in the closet he crossed the room to light the logs stacked and waiting in the massive stone fireplace, giving her an opportunity to scan her surroundings. The lodge looked more like someone’s home than a temporary accommodation. Hardwood floors gleamed in every direction. One side of the rectangular room housed the kitchen and dining area, and on the other a pair of black leather sofas jutted perpendicular to the hearth. The walls on either side of the fireplace were made of glass, offering a breathtaking view of the mountains fading to a dusky pink as the sun set.
Black dominated the decor. Charcoal sketches graced the walls. She strolled closer to a rendition of an ice-covered lake and noted the artist’s signature—one she recognized from her trips to the many art galleries in downtown Aspen. An original. Translation: very expensive and not even remotely within her budget.
She turned a slow circle. The black marble vases flanking the mantel and the onyx-framed mirror hanging between them screamed money in an understated, elegant way. Ditto the knickknacks sparingly dotted along the flat surfaces. She’d seen enough of this type of art through exclusive shops’ windows to know the value.
She lifted an exquisitely carved wooden bear. Nope, it wasn’t nailed down, and yes, the artist’s initials had been burned into the bottom. No mass-produced decor here. She set the bear back on the polished surface. What hotel could afford to risk a guest tucking even one of these objects into his bag?
The fire popped, startling her and drawing her gaze back to the man watching her in silence. Gavin’s sensual expression made her shiver. Rubbing the goose bumps popping up on her arms, she glanced away and spotted a staircase. “What’s in the loft?”
“An office.”
“Are you working while you’re here?”
“I’m doing some consulting and preliminary work for future jobs. It’s not enough to keep me busy, but it staves off insanity.”
Another surprise. She’d expected him to enjoy his year of leisure. Oh, sure, he’d claimed he needed the handyman job because he was bored without work, but she hadn’t really believed him.
He crossed to a black slate-topped wet bar, pulled a bottle of white wine from the refrigerator, opened it and poured two glasses and brought one to her. “To our mutual pleasure.”
She gasped and nearly choked on her own saliva. Having him verbalize the purpose of this visit sent a jolt of adrenaline though her. He’d said he’d brought her here for dinner, but she knew better. One look at his eyes told her getting nak*d was on the agenda.
The chime of his rim tapping hers sounded light compared to her dark and dangerous thoughts. She tried to focus on something besides making lo—hav**g s*x on the white fur rug in front of the fire. But she couldn’t seem to shove that idea from her head now that it had burrowed into her brain.
Tonight was all about sex. Nothing more. Nothing less. Just physical pleasure with a man she didn’t particularly like but one who knew how to ring her bell.
She gulped her wine and tried to work up the courage to jump him and get it over with. Not happening. She licked her lips. “You said during the carriage ride that most of your siblings were staying in lodges or hotel rooms. How can the resort afford for so many of your family members to take up guest quarters?”
The twitch of his mouth told her he’d noted her change of subject. “Our budget can handle it, but I’ll move to the main house when the tourists arrive and we reach maximum occupancy. For now, I’m enjoying roughing it here.”
“Roughing it?” She snorted, touched a pewter horse statue and rolled her eyes. Three of her and Russell’s old military base apartments could fit into this great room alone, and there would be even more space in what she suspected were massive bedrooms through the archway on her right. One of which she’d probably see tonight. Her abdominal muscles contracted. She took another hearty swallow of wine. “You call living in the lap of luxury roughing it?”
“It is compared to living in the hotel where the concierge hovers, the maid comes by two or three times a day and you can have your own personal chef and wine steward serve a meal in your suite whenever you desire it. At Jarrod Manor every want is anticipated and provided for before I even make the request. Even my underwear gets ironed.”
Don’t think about his underwear.
That anyone could see having their needs taken care of as a nuisance astounded her. “I can’t imagine living that way.”
“Our guests demand it. Jarrod Ridge is known for pampering its clientele.”
“Moving away and leaving all this…assistance behind must have been difficult for you.”
“Not at all. It’s impossible to figure out who you are and what you want out of life when someone else is forcing you down his path, telling you who he expects you to be and making all your decisions for you.”
Again, she heard the bitterness and she understood it. She didn’t like having this in common with him. “Your father.”
He inclined his head.
“My parents did the same. They pressured me to follow in their footsteps and get multiple degrees. They couldn’t understand that college just wasn’t for me even though I scored high on all the entrance exams.”
“Why wasn’t college for you?”
She sipped her wine, trying to figure out why she’d just volunteered something she’d not shared with anyone before. Must be the liquor loosening her tongue. She wasn’t much of a drinker. “I don’t like taking classes. There’s too much reading and talking about stuff and not enough doing it.”
“You’re a hands-on learner. Nothing wrong with that.”
Something in her softened. She’d never had anybody understand her like that before. And how could he? He barely knew her. Even though her grandparents had emotionally supported her, they had assumed she was delaying college, not skipping it altogether. She’d eventually caved and taken several business classes to keep herself occupied during Russell’s deployments, but she’d hated being confined to a classroom. However, she was grateful for those classes now. They helped her manage the inn’s budget.
Gavin moved closer—close enough to touch. But she didn’t reach out. She wasn’t ready to take that step—the one that would end up with the two of them bare-skinned and against each other. But her belly clenched in anticipation of having him deep inside her.
“Let’s soak in the hot tub while we wait for dinner,” he said in that low rumbling jets-coming-over-the-mountain voice of his.
Her skin flushed hot and her gaze shot to the glass doors leading to a deck. “I didn’t bring a swimsuit.”
“You don’t need one. The tub is completely private.”
“But…what about the staff serving dinner?”
“They’ve been instructed to leave it in the kitchen.”
“I—I—” Planning to be bold and actually doing it were apparently two different things. And then she noted something out of place in Gavin’s perfect world. “There’s still snow on the deck. I’m surprised the grounds crew didn’t sweep it away like they did on the front walk.”
“I asked the staff to leave it. There’s nothing like sitting in a bubbling hot tub, surrounded by snow and staring up at a clear blue star-filled sky through the steam rising from the water.”
The man had a way with words.
“The stars aren’t out yet,” she replied hastily.
“True.”
“And more snow is predicted. Won’t it be too cloudy to see them?”
“So it will. You’re quite practical, aren’t you?”
She’d had to be. She’d run away from home on a romantic fantasy of love and collided with cold, harsh reality. While Russell had been off doing his job and supporting his country, she’d been home alone, trying to learn how to manage on a meager budget and hold onto what was left of their life together after she’d miscarried. Luckily, she’d had the guidance and support of a few experienced and big-hearted military wives to point her in the right direction.
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be a wet blanket.”
Gavin set his glass on the table. “Sabrina, you have nothing to fear from me.”
Like she believed that. The moisture between her legs already proved she had plenty to fear. He had decimated her scruples this morning. And where were those scruples now? She was very tempted to take him up on his offer. To see those broad shoulders glistening wet in the moonlight. To feel those big callused hands rasping over her skin, on her br**sts, between her legs. She’d barely been able to think of anything else all day.
She exhaled shakily, turned her back on him and took another sip of wine. C’mon. You can do this. “All right. Let’s get in the hot tub.”
She started shaking even before she finished the sentence. Golden liquid sloshed around the bowl of her glass.
Gavin moved up behind her. She felt the heat radiating from him even though he didn’t touch her. One long arm reached around her and removed the glass from her hand. “Why don’t we take a walk before dinner and save the hot tub for later?”
Suspicious, she spun to face him. “Why?”
“You said you’d never toured Jarrod Ridge. We’ll burn off a little excess energy and then relax afterward.”
That sounded suspiciously like him being considerate, and she hadn’t expected that from him. But she’d take the reprieve. Maybe by the time they returned she’d have found her courage to plunge into the affair. “I’d like to see the grounds.”