Ian nodded. “I’m not going anywhere.”
True. They were stuck together until this trip ended. And she’d thought Josef walking in on them was awkward.
Straightening to her full height, she turned and walked away. It took effort, but she managed to reach upstairs without running. She’d be damned if she’d let Ian see how much his rejection hurt. Her blood pressure might shoot through the roof, but she would spend the rest of this road trip with a smile on her face. What she didn’t understand, she thought while brushing her teeth, was why he’d kissed her in the first place. Some kind of game? A challenge? Or was she remembering the moment incorrectly, and she’d been the one who’d made the first move?
Whatever happened, it was her fault for letting her guard down. Something about being with Ian had her opening up about parts of her life she never shared with anyone else. For crying out loud, she’d told him about her father!
As if she wasn’t disgusted by herself enough, she took a good look at her reflection upon donning the flannel shirt. She looked like a plaid circus tent with legs.
And swollen, thoroughly kissed lips.
Dammit, Ian. Stepping back into the bedroom, she found her attention going straight to the rumpled spot on the comforter where he’d lain earlier. He’d looked so comfortable stretched out there. So weirdly...right.
It was an image too good to be true. For her, anyway.
For the first time in eighteen months, Ian rolled out of bed cotton mouthed, and lucky him, he hadn’t had to drink to get it. No, he’d earned the bleary-eyed state by spending most of the night thinking about the woman next door. The woman he had no business kissing, but had kissed anyway. Might as well have been alcohol, because once he started, he didn’t want to stop. Thank heaven for Josef. God knows what might have happened if he hadn’t shown up.
Ian pictured the disappointment that had flashed across her face when he’d stepped away. If only she knew how hard it was.
Once his body cooled down and common sense returned, he’d realized just how smart it was for him to stop. Maybe if she’d been some mercenary socialite...but she wasn’t. She was sweet and funny. His past was already littered with good women who’d offered their hearts, only to discover he was incapable of returning their feelings. He didn’t want Chloe to become one of them.
Man, though, could she kiss.... He could still taste her, still feel how her long lean body had ground against him.
He groaned aloud. Thinking about last night did not help. If he was back in New York, he could distract himself with the paper while watching the staff brew the first pots of the day. Lying here, he had too much access to his thoughts.
It was the quiet that had woken him. All night he’d listened to the pelting of freezing rain against the glass. There was no rain now. No wind, either. The only sounds Ian could hear were those of birds chirping.
A tug on the window shade revealed a mottled sky of blue and gray. The storm had left damage, though. The entire world was coated in ice. Branches, cars, even the sides of a work shed glistened as part of a frozen wonderland. Fortunately, he saw some of the branches already beginning to drip. This time of year, ice never stuck around long. The downed tree in the road was a far bigger problem. It couldn’t be moved until the power company cleared the lines. Who knew how long that would take? Chloe and he could be stranded here another night.
He ignored the thrill that arose at the thought.
Yanking on his jeans and sweater, he headed downstairs in search of coffee. If this place kept its promises, then a pot would already be brewing. Otherwise, Josef and Dagmar would have to deal with him making his own.
Chloe’s room was silent as he walked by. Nice to know one of them could sleep following last night. As he passed, he ran a hand across the door’s painted surface, a poor substitute for Chloe’s burnished gold skin, but probably the closest he’d come to a caress again.
“Good morning!” Josef stepped through the front door as Ian reached the landing. “You are up early. Did you sleep well?”
Ian gave the man credit; he acted as though last night’s awkward encounter had never happened. “Very well, thank you,” he said, playing along.
“Glad to hear it.” The man propped a hiking pole against the wall, then hung his jacket on a wooden hook. “I was spreading salt on the front steps. If you and your friend go for a walk this morning, you will need to be careful. Until the sun warms everything up, the ground is an ice skating rink.”
“Any word from the power company?” Ian asked.
The innkeeper joined him at the buffet and poured himself a cup of coffee. “I called this morning and got a recording that said they had crews on the job. Unfortunately, I also heard on the radio that there are power outages all over the state. Forty thousand people without power, I think they said. Even with your generous offer, I have a feeling repairs will be a while. I hope you were not in too much of a hurry to leave.”
“Would it matter if I was?” Ian asked.
“Not really.” Josef offered him the creamer, which Ian declined. “I noticed your car has New York plates. Were you coming or going?”
“Going. My son is a student at the state university. We were heading out to see him.”
“What a shame you were unable to make the trip. But I am sure your son will understand.”
“Hope so.” The man had no idea how much. As Ian stared at the black contents of his mug, he wasn’t so sure.
Behind him, the stairs creaked softly. “Good morning,” Josef greeted. “I wondered if you would be joining us at this hour or not.”
Ian’s body tensed in awareness. Without turning around, he could tell who it was Josef spoke to. His insides sensed her approach.
Sure enough, when he turned, Chloe stood on the bottom stair.
He’d been wrong to tease her about the flannel shirt. The oversized garment looked sexy as hell on her—even with the jeans she’d tugged on to cover her legs. Soft and flowing, with a wide neckline that revealed the honey-colored skin around her neck. His body tightened as he remembered just how that skin tasted.
She’d pulled her curls into a topknot, but a handful of corkscrew tendrils had managed to work their way loose. It was those she brushed at with her hand before offering a small wave. “Good morning,” she replied.
She smiled as she joined them, but Ian could tell it was for Josef’s benefit only. The corners of her mouth were pulled too tightly, and while her eyes avoided looking directly at him, he still caught the embarrassment shining in their depths.
“Hope there’s enough coffee left for me,” she said, turning to their host.
“Why, of course. Allow me to pour you a cup.”
“I thought you preferred to drink iced coffee,” Ian remarked. He hoped the innkeeper took the hint and went to get some ice so the two of them could have a moment alone. Chloe, however, must have known what he was doing.
“I’ve been known to drink both. Besides, if you add enough milk, the coffee cools down fast and it’s almost like iced.”
“Almost but not quite.”
“Close enough.” She took the cup Josef offered and began adding what amounted to a second mug of cream. All to avoid standing alone with Ian. So much for friendship. He wanted to kick himself.
“Ian and I were just talking about the two of you spending an extra night.”
The knuckles on the hand gripping her mug handle tightened. “Is that so?”
“All our guests will, unless we can get the tree moved by the end of the day. At the moment, it does not seem likely.”
“Josef, can I get your help in the kitchen?” Dagmar’s voice called out.
The innkeeper drained the rest of his coffee. “The boss beckons. I had best see what she wants.”
“Will you be coming back?” Chloe sounded so nervous, Ian’s stomach dropped.
“Afraid not. When Dagmar signals she needs help, it is usually the end of my spare time for the day. I will let you know when breakfast is ready to be served. Hope you two like eggs because we have a lot of them to cook up.”
“Farm fresh eggs,” Ian remarked. “Don’t see those every day.”
“No, I suppose you don’t.”
Chloe’s smile had vanished along with Josef. “Another day, huh?” she said, staring at her mug. “You must be disappointed.”
“A little.” At the moment, he was more disappointed that she continued to avoid his gaze. Unable to stand her evasion any longer, he caught her chin with his forefinger, forcing her to look in his direction. The apology in her eyes tore his guts out. “We need to talk.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
BUT NOT IN the main salon. There were too many opportunities for interruption. Before Chloe could say a word, Ian grabbed her hand and led her down the hall to the first empty room and shut the door.
She blinked in disbelief at the unlit fireplace. Startled as she was by Ian’s abrupt maneuver, it took her a minute or two to realize they’d returned to the library. “I didn’t think you’d feel comfortable going upstairs,” he explained. “And this way we can speak in private.”
“Do we have to?” If he wanted to talk about last night, Chloe would rather not talk at all. She’d spent enough time rehashing the evening while not sleeping.