Smiling to herself, Kate made coffee and stared out the window at the world of white. The snow was still coming down and the straight-as-a-soldier pines were beginning to bow beneath the weight of the heavy, wet snow on their branches. This was a big storm showing no signs of ending yet—and she was glad. In fact, she’d never been so happy about being snowed in.
Logically, of course, Kate knew this wasn’t the most brilliant move she’d ever made. Getting involved sexually with her boss was crazy, but at the moment, she really couldn’t regret it. That, she knew, would come later. But for now, all she could do was marvel at the memories of everything Sean had done with her—and to her.
A flush of heat rushed through Kate, tingling across her nerve endings until she felt as if her skin was burning. Until she put a stop to it. Last night, she’d been so swept away by what she was feeling, there hadn’t been time for guilt to grab hold of her. Now, there was too much time.
Everything she’d experienced with Sean was fresh in her mind, and Kate couldn’t help feeling disloyal to the husband she had lost. As much as she had loved her husband, Kate was forced to acknowledge that Sam had never made her feel what Sean had. During her marriage, Kate had assumed that it was her own fault that somehow, something was lacking that kept her from experiencing the mind-shattering orgasms her friend Molly loved to describe in intricate detail. Of course, a part of Kate had always believed that Molly was exaggerating. Now after last night, Kate realized she owed her friend an apology. And her brain was jumping from one thought to another.
Her subconscious was probably doing it on purpose to keep her from focusing too much on what happened next. What was she supposed to say to Sean? How was she supposed to act?
“I smell coffee.”
She whipped around to watch Sean walk into the kitchen. Her heart gave a hard thump, and Kate took a breath trying to calm that stir of something hot and wonderful that happened with a single look at him. His black hair tumbled across his forehead, his blue eyes were narrowed. He wore black jeans and a white long-sleeved shirt, unbuttoned. He hadn’t bothered to pull on his boots, and Kate couldn’t have said why she found the fact that he was barefoot so damn sexy. But she knew without a doubt that she was in serious trouble.
“Coffee’s almost ready,” she said, focusing on the job at hand rather than the gorgeous man headed toward her with a long, slow stride.
“Good. Need the caffeine.” He leaned one hip against the counter and crossed his arms over the chest she wanted to stroke like a kitten. “You wore me out. Who knew once I got you out of that tool belt you’d be so...insatiable?”
Heat and memories rushed through her again, tangling together in her mind. “It was quite the surprise for me, too,” she muttered.
“Re-al-ly?” He drawled that word into three syllables.
“It’s not that big a deal,” Kate said, snatching up the now-ready coffeepot and pouring each of them a cup. She needed a second or two to gather thoughts she’d only been considering for the last few minutes herself. Insatiable. She had been. And that had surprised the heck out of her. “I just never really cared that much about sex is all.”
A half smile tugged at the edge of his mouth. “But you have such a talent for it.” He paused thoughtfully, then asked, “So it must be that your former lovers weren’t very good.”
Kate snapped a look at him. It was one thing for her to reconsider the intimacies of her marriage, but she wouldn’t stand there and let Sean insult Sam’s memory. “He was just fine, thanks.”
“Just fine?” Sean laughed shortly, took a sip of his coffee and said, “Fine is not a word you want to use about sex. Cookies maybe, but not sex.” He stopped, straightened up and looked at her in disbelief. “Wait a minute. You said he. You’ve only been with one other guy?”
A new tidal wave of guilt roared over her, making Kate think she’d drown in that dark, dismal sea. Yes, before Sean she’d only been with her husband. Sam’s smiling face rose up in her mind and Kate’s heart ached. She couldn’t talk about him with Sean. Didn’t want to hear sympathetic noises or see a sheen of pity in his eyes. Kate didn’t even talk about Sam with her friends or her father, so she wouldn’t consider it with Sean. She was dealing with Sam’s loss, but she was doing it her own way. “I don’t think we need to discuss our pasts. Unless you’ve got something you’d like to share...”
It was gone so quickly, Kate couldn’t be sure she’d seen it at all. But there was a flicker of something dark in his eyes. Apparently, he was as protective of his own memories as she was of her own. Well, good, then he would understand.
“No,” he finally said, “we don’t have to talk about the past.”
Relieved, Kate nodded. “In that case, why don’t we talk about the future instead?”
In a blink, his features went stiff and tight, his eyes glittered wildly with a typical sort of blind, male panic. “What future?”
Laughter shot from her throat, startling her and making Sean scowl in response. His expression only made her laugh harder and boy, it felt good to let go of the guilt, the awkwardness and the morning-after conversation.
“What’s so damn funny?” he demanded.
Still laughing, Kate held one hand up in a silent request for time to get herself under control. Sean waited, but he wasn’t happy, as evidenced by his scowl deepening.
Shaking her head, Kate realized that for the first time since awakening in Sean’s arms, she felt like herself. Nerves were gone, that odd sense of guilt mingled with regret had faded away and she remembered exactly who she was. She didn’t have to walk on eggshells around Sean because they weren’t in a relationship, so to speak. They were each strong individuals and as long as she kept that in mind, she could handle whatever came next.
Laughter, though, continued to spill from her in a long, rich torrent until she struggled to catch her breath. Looking at Sean didn’t help because he looked so...irritated. Men were just amazing, she told herself, amusement continuing to bubble in her mind.
Sean was a prime example. He’d done everything he could to get her into bed...well, sleeping bag. Then the following morning, all she had to do was say the word future and she could practically hear him stepping on the metaphorical brakes. She was only surprised he hadn’t tried to leave—blizzard or no blizzard. He was no doubt assuming she had visions filled with white picket fences and rosy-cheeked children. Her laughter faded away as she recalled that she’d had those very dreams once. And then they died. She had no interest in resuscitating them.
When she had the laughter under control, she said, “Relax, Sean. I’m not expecting a proposal and a vow of eternal devotion. God, you should see your face. You look like you’re ready to chew off a cartoon ball and chain from around your ankle.”
“That’s ridiculous.” If anything, his frown deepened as he took a long drink of coffee. “And I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sure,” she said, shaking her head as she sipped at her coffee. “You stick with that. Anyway... I was talking about the hotel’s future, not ours.”
He stiffened and pushed away from the counter with a move that was too studiedly casual to be real. “I knew that.”
“Please.” She laughed again, waved that away and took another hit of her coffee. “When you walked in here, you were braced for some emotional meltdown from me. You figured I’d throw myself at your feet and beg you to marry me or some weird thing.”
“Weird?” His eyebrows lifted.
“Well, you have no worries on that front,” she assured him, meeting those icy blue eyes squarely. “I’m not interested in a husband and if I was, it wouldn’t be you.”
He just looked at her for a long minute before blurting, “What the hell’s wrong with me?”
Kate laughed again. “Wow. Now you’re insulted.”
“No. Yeah. I guess I am. Why wouldn’t you want to marry me?”
“Let’s see,” she said thoughtfully, tipping her head to one side to look up at him. “For one thing, your first thought was to bolt out of the room when you thought I might be swooning over you.”
“I wouldn’t bolt,” he told her stiffly. “It’s snowing.”
“Uh-huh. For another, you’re irritating.”
“Ha!” He flashed a quick grin. “Hello, pot? This is kettle. You’re black.”
“Funny,” she admitted. “Fine. We irritate each other. Good enough reason to steer clear. Another is the fact that you’re California and I’m Wyoming. Not exactly geographically desirable. And then there’s the fact that anytime I see you in some magazine, you’ve got a hot blonde with boobs bigger than her IQ on your arm.”
“That’s sexist,” he pointed out wryly.
“I’m a woman. I can say it,” she said. “Face it, Sean. You’re just not marriage material. You don’t want a permanent woman and I have no use for a permanent man, so why on earth would I want to marry you?”