“Oh, I was terrified all right. But it was worth it.”
Guy shot her a narrow-eyed look. “You know what? I may still get you up in that balloon after all.”
The first thing Guy did on his return to the resort was to close himself up in the wood-paneled study that had been his father’s and put a call through to Jeff Morse.
Vivienne, his partner’s very efficient PA, promised to have Jeff call him back shortly. An hour later, Jeff hadn’t called. So Guy tried again. By the third call, Vivienne sounded uncharacteristically flustered as she advised that Jeff had just left to go hunting for a couple of days on a property that was out of cell phone range.
Guy set the phone down, propped his elbows on the walnut desk and stared for a long time at his steepled fingers.
Finally he moved to the computer in the corner of the study and booted it up. Fifteen minutes later he was satisfied with the e-mail he’d drafted. He hit Send.
Notifying Jeff of his intention to dissolve their Go Green partnership would provoke a response.
The picnic beside the river changed something between them.
Guy didn’t raise the confession Avery had made about Jeff. But every night they met for dinner at Chagall's, obstensibly to discuss work, and afterward Guy would escort her to her room, and here they would make love. Not sex. Silent, desperate love.
After the first night Guy had refused to leave and they’d ended up sleeping in each other’s arms. Even though the next morning Avery had complained that he would be missed on the family floor.
“I have my own suite, it’s self-contained,” Guy said. “Melissa prefers the peace of Willow Lodge. Erica’s moved out into Christian’s house. Trevor’s living in town. And Blake probably spends more time at airports commuting between Aspen and New York than he does at Jarrod Ridge. We’re hardly living in each other’s pockets. Too often I’m down in the kitchens checking the produce coming in from the markets early in the morning. Trust me, no one’s going to miss me if I don’t come to breakfast in the family kitchen.”
When Guy put it like that, her reservations sounded absurd.
“You should move in with me.”
“I don’t want to be seen emerging from the private elevator early each morning,” she said stubbornly clinging to her convictions. “People…staff…will talk.”
“Then I’ll fire them.”
Her eyes went wide.
“Hey, that’s a joke—bad one, but still a joke.”
But it did remind her of the kind of power a man like Guy Jarrod had. He did have the power to make decisions about people’s lives. Even hers.
Later that day Avery felt restless and found herself needing more space than the resort, crowded with the continuous bustle of the Food and Wine Gala, allowed.
A drive into Aspen accomplished that. Without any conscious volition, Avery found herself back at the gallery where Margaret Jarrod’s work hung. The gallery owner greeted her, and she smiled politely back before walking to the alcove in the back of the gallery to stare at the riverscape, as though that might give her the answers she sought.
Clearly Guy must’ve grieved when his mother had died. He’d missed her. Yet he never spoke about her.
Speak to me, Avery implored the painting. Help me understand.
But the picture remained a swirl of angry color and eventually Avery sighed and took herself off for a cup of coffee at a sidewalk cafe. Half an hour later she returned to her hatchback and made her way back to the resort.
On the stretch of tarmac just before the right turn onto the bridge that crossed the Roaring Fork River, a red sports car swerved to pass an oncoming white van.
Avery suppressed the fierce urge to scream. Faced by the sports car blocking her vision, Avery gritted her teeth and swung the steering wheel hard to one side.
The car bumped across the verge and lurched to a bone-jolting stop in a roadside ditch. Avery was flung forward as the airbags activated.
The radio hummed country music. Beyond the window she glimpsed bits of a tilted world. Dirt and shrubs and blue sky. Closing her eyes Avery said a silent prayer of thanks. When she opened them, it was to find herself staring through the windshield into a pair of feminine eyes.
“Are you okay?” The young woman asked, pushing her dark hair off her face.
“I think so.”
Avery unclipped her seatbelt and tried to open the door. It was jammed solid. A wild sense of panic filled her. She had to get out!
“The car is on its side. You’ll have to climb out. Are you sure you should be moving? Maybe it would be better to wait for the paramedics?”
“Yes, I’m fine.” Avery couldn’t bear the thought of being trapped. The opposite door swung open. Avery clambered over the gearstick and hoisted herself out.
“I thought we were both finished when that idiot overtook me so recklessly.” The other woman’s expression turned to concern. “You’re bleeding. There’s a graze on your forehead.”
Avery touched a hand to her head. “I’m fine—but I’m not sure if the other driver will be if I ever lay my hands on his throat.”
“I’ve called 911, help is on its way.”
Oh, thank God. “You must be an angel,” Avery said with relief. “He was driving like a maniac, I didn’t think I was going to be able to avoid a crash.” Reaction was starting to set in.
“I thought we were all dead.”
The brunette was ashen, too.
So she wasn’t the only one who’d been terrified out of her wits for those moments, Avery realized. Moving off the verge, she flinched as she put her weight on her left leg. She felt unexpectedly shaky. “I’m going to sit down,” she announced.
“Try putting your head between your knees.”
Avery bent forward.
“Shock. My name is Nancy, by the way. Can I call someone for you? The tow trucks will probably be arriving soon.”
“Guy.”
“Which guy?”
Avery raised her head and caught Nancy’s troubled look. The woman thought she was in shock. “Guy Jarrod—he lives at Jarrod Ridge.”
“Okay.” Nancy’s face cleared, and she pulled a cell phone out the front pocket of her jeans.
Closing her eyes, Avery was dimly conscious of Nancy telling someone what had happened. She concentrated on trying to stop the shaking that seemed to consume her.
At the sound of a vehicle slowing, she looked up.
“The paramedics are here,” said Nancy, rising to her feet.
While the paramedics—a young beanpole of a man and a plump, motherly woman—tended to Avery, she tipped her head up to Nancy.
“How can I ever thank you enough for stopping to help me?”
The young woman shrugged. “It was nothing. It could as easily have been me who ended up in a ditch. And I didn’t even get that idiot’s license plate number.”
“Me, neither.”
They shared a smile.
The shaking had stopped. “Thank you for staying with me.”
There was the sound of several vehicles pulling up. “Oh, and here’s the tow truck, they’ll probably take your car to town,” said Nancy.
“I’ll have to inform the rental company of the damage to the car.” Avery winced at the thought. That was a call she was not looking forward to making. At least there would be insurance to cover the mess.
“Looks like your Guy is here too. So I’ll be off.”
Avery started. She was tempted to beg Nancy to stay.
“Is that sore?” The young paramedic asked, prodding gently around her knee. “No.”
“Avery!”
She jerked her head up at the sound of that all-too-familiar male voice.
“You are hurt!”
Guy moved faster than Avery had ever seen.
“Don’t worry,” she said, “it’s only a graze—it barely stings.”
“But that ankle will need X-rays,” said the motherly paramedic. “We’ll take you to the hospital.”
“I’m fine.”
“I’ll take her.” Guy was grasping her hand. It gave Avery an unexpected sense of comfort, of being cared for.
She let him help her to her feet but as she put her weight on her foot, her ankle crumpled. “Ow.”
“Definitely to the hospital.” Guy’s tone brooked no argument.
Yet Avery tried. “I don’t need to go to the hospital. I’m sure it’s nothing terrible—ice and elevation and it will be fine by tomorrow.”
Guy shook his head.
“Guy, I’m fine. If you absolutely insist I can go to the medical center at the resort.”
“You’ll need X-rays.”
“Don’t be such a pessimist.” Avery tried to make light of it.
But Guy only put his arm around her waist and said, “Lean on me. The sooner you get treatment, the better.”
“He’s right, my dear,” added the motherly paramedic. “And if the only way to get you there is to let him take you, then so be it. But I need you to sign here for me.” She produced a clipboard with a form.
With them all ganging up on her, Avery quit arguing and signed.
Once Guy had her in the SUV the drive to town went quickly. At the hospital a receptionist handed Avery a further sheaf of forms to complete. Full of questions about personal details. Medications. Consent.
Whether she was pregnant.
Pregnant. The word jumped out at her. If only…
She hesitated, before dismissing the sudden, startling fear. She wasn’t pregnant. The test she’d taken—twice—had confirmed that. Before she could have second thoughts, she signed the form and gave it back to the receptionist with a smile.
“How long is the wait?” Guy loomed over the desk, his posture far from comforting.
“Not too long.” The receptionist gave him a polite smile. “There’s a coffee machine, feel free to help yourself.”
Avery limped away to the seating area.
Guy came up behind her. “Can I get you a hot drink?”
“I’m fine.”
Instead of settling beside her, Guy started to pace.
More out of a desire to give Guy something to do, than from thirst, Avery said, “I wouldn’t mind a bottle of water, I saw a kiosk when we came in.”
“Right.”
Guy was gone before she could say more.
The receptionist caught Avery’s eye and said, “Good idea to keep him busy.”
Avery laughed in agreement. “I’ve only twisted my ankle, but he’s behaving like it’s broken.”
The woman clucked. “Some men fuss when they’re worried.”
Avery didn’t set her right. Guy wouldn’t possibly be concerned about something so minor.
He still hadn’t returned by the time Avery was ushered into an examining room. The doctor had kind brown eyes that looked years younger than her cropped, gray hair suggested.
“You’ve hurt your ankle.”
Avery nodded and told her what had happened. “Just one thing,” she tacked on, “why do you need to know whether I’m pregnant?”
“So that we can take the necessary steps to protect the baby. It’s always better to be safe than sorry. Is it possible that you may be pregnant?”