Snowbound with the Boss(5)

“Wow, really hate the thought of family that much?”

Something flickered in his eyes—a shadow—and then it was gone, so fast, Kate wasn’t really sure she’d seen it at all.

“No,” he said, half turning to lean one hip against the battered kitchen counter. “Just not interested in having one of my own.”

“So no driving need to be a father,” she said flatly, thinking this was just another insight into the man she would be dealing with for months.

“God, no.” He shook his head and laughed shortly. “Can’t see me being a father. My brother maybe, but not me.”

Though he was brushing it off, Kate remembered that shadow and wondered what had caused it, however briefly. Curiosity piqued, Kate couldn’t help asking, “Why?”

He blew out a breath, crossed his arms over his chest and said, “I like having my own space. Doing things on my own time. Having to bend all of that to fit someone else’s schedule doesn’t appeal to me.”

“Sounds selfish,” she said.

“Absolutely,” he agreed affably. “What about you? If you like kids so much, why don’t you have three or four of your own?”

Her features froze briefly. She felt it, couldn’t prevent it and could only hope that he didn’t notice. One thing she didn’t want was to tell Sean about her late husband and the dreams of family they’d had and lost. “Just hasn’t worked out that way.”

“Hey.” Sean moved closer and his voice dropped. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” she said briskly, lifting her chin and giving him what she hoped was a bright—not bitter—smile.

This was simply another reminder of the differences between them, Kate thought. Mister Billionaire Playboy probably thought having a family was like being chained in a cage. But it was all Kate had ever really wanted. She’d come close to having the whole dream—home, husband, kids—but it had been snatched from her grasp and now she was left with only the haunting thoughts of what might have been.

Something Sean clearly wouldn’t understand. But that wasn’t her problem, was it?

“Anyway,” Kate said, “we’ve got enough food for a few days if we’re careful.”

“Right.” He accepted the change of subject easily enough. “Do we have enough coffee to last?”

We. Now they were an unlikely team. As long as the storm lasted, they would be we. And she could admit, at least to herself, that in spite of everything, she was grateful not to be stranded up here by herself. Even if it did mean that she and Sean were going to have far too much alone time together.

But for now, dealing with their shared addiction to caffeine took precedence. “I’m on it.”

The water in the pan was boiling, so she carefully poured it into the drip filter on her travel pot. She felt Sean watching her. How odd, she thought, that the man’s gaze could feel as tangible as a touch. And odder still, she caught herself wishing he was touching her, which was just stupid.

For heaven’s sake, hadn’t she just been reminding herself how different the two of them were? How he was temporary in her life—not to mention being her client, so in effect, her boss. It was undeniable, though. This flash of something hungry between them. It was dangerous. Ridiculous. And oh, so tempting.

It was the situation, she told herself. Just the two of them, stranded in an empty hotel with several feet of snow piling up outside. Of course, her mind was going a little wonky. And the only thing wrong with that explanation was that her mind had been wonky since the moment Sean had arrived in Wyoming.

Over the sound of the howling wind outside, Kate listened to the water plopping through the filter into the coffeepot. A rich, dark scent filled the air, and behind her, Sean inhaled deeply and released the breath on a sigh.

“Man, that smells good.”

“Agreed,” she said and carefully poured more water into the filter. While the coffee dripped into the reservoir, Kate walked to the pantry, where she’d stored a few paper supplies for the crew. She grabbed two cups, tossed one to Sean and then turned to the now-ready coffee and poured some for each of them. The first sip seemed to ease some of the jagged edges tearing at her mind.

Leaning back against the counter, she turned to stare out the window above the sink. It was a bay window, with plenty of space for fresh herbs to grow and thrive in the sun. Right now it was empty, but Kate could imagine just how it and everything else about the hotel would look when she and her crew were finished. Still, it was what was happening beyond the glass that had most of her attention.

The snow was coming down so thick and fast, swirling in a wind that rattled the glass panes, she couldn’t see past the yard to where the lake stretched out along the foot of the mountains, and the forest was no more than a smudge of darkness in the world of white.

“This happen often?” Sean asked, as he moved up beside her.

His arm brushed against hers, and Kate sucked in a gulp of air to steady herself. “Often enough,” she said, determined to get a grip on the rush of something hot and delicious pulsing inside her. Another sip of coffee sent a different kind of heat sweeping through her. “Ask anyone and they’ll tell you. If you don’t like the weather in Wyoming, wait five minutes. It’ll change.”

He leaned forward and tipped his head back to see what he could of the sky. “So five minutes from now, the sun should be shining and the snow melted?”

She had to laugh because he sounded so hopeful. “Not likely. This looks like a big one. I figure we’re stuck here for a couple of days. Maybe more.”

He sighed, nodded and looked at her. “At least we have each other.”

And that, Kate told herself, was the problem.

* * *

They decided to ration what food they had, so an hour later, the two of them split a sandwich and shared a few crackers. Sitting in front of the fire, with the wind and snow pelting the windows, Sean glanced at Kate beside him. They’d pulled the old leather couch closer to the hearth, and now each of them had claimed a corner of the sofa for themselves.

Kate stared into the blaze, and firelight danced across her features and shone in her hair. Her eyes were fixed on the flames, as if looking away from the fire would mean her life. Her behavior told him she was nervous around him. He liked knowing it. Made his own unease a little easier to take.

He frowned to himself as that word reverberated a few times in his mind. Unease. Hell, Sean hadn’t been uneasy around women since freshman year of high school. Dana Foster—her red hair, green eyes and wide, smiling mouth had turned Sean into a babbling moron. Until he’d kissed her for the first time. That kiss had opened up a world of wonder, beauty and hunger that Sean had enjoyed ever since.

The women in his life—most of them—had come and gone, barely causing a ripple. Of course, there’d been one woman, years ago, who had affected him, changed him. But he didn’t allow himself to think about her or what had happened between them. Ancient history that had nothing to do with who and what he was today.

Now there was Kate. And what she did to him was so much more than that long-ago woman. Admitting that really bothered him and acted as a warning bell. Kate had him tied into knots, and he didn’t appreciate it. She made him feel nearly desperate to have her. And while his body clamored for him to go for it, those warning signals continued to ring out in his brain, telling him to keep his distance and to get the hell away from her as fast as he could. But that wasn’t going to happen, thanks to this blizzard.

He’d avoided any kind of entanglements for years and wasn’t looking for one now. But logic didn’t have a lot to do with anything he was feeling at the moment.

He wanted her. Wanted her badly enough that his mind was filled with images of her all the damn time. When he was with her, his body was tight and hard, and the longer he was with Kate, the worse it got. That need clawed at his insides, demanding release. Still, sex with her would only complicate matters, and Sean was a man who didn’t like complications.

His life would have been a lot easier if only he’d been able to escape Wyoming and put several hundred miles between himself and Kate. That wasn’t going to happen, though, so he had to find a way to survive this enforced closeness.

“Why are you staring at me?”

He came out of his thoughts and focused on the woman now looking at him. “Just thinking.”

“Now I’m worried,” she said, a half smile curving her mouth. “Thinking about what?”

Well, he wasn’t going to tell her the truth—that he was thinking about how soon he could get her out of her clothes—so he blurted out something that had been on his mind lately. “Wondering how you became a contractor.”

Her brow furrowed, her eyes narrowed and he had the distinct feeling she didn’t believe him. But then she shrugged and answered.

“My dad is the easy answer,” she said, shifting her gaze back to the fire snapping and crackling just a few feet away from them. “He’s a master carpenter. Started his own business when I was a kid.” She smiled in memory, and Sean noticed how her features softened. “I used to work for him every summer and he and the guys on his crew taught me everything I know about construction.”