CHAPTER TWO
Harrison
I didn’t make a habit of inviting strangers into my house.
I’d built this place because I could — because there was nothing left to prove to anyone and no board meeting worth missing a sunrise for.
Two hours from the nearest town, cell signal only when I bothered to flip the booster on.
Not hiding. Just done. There’s a difference, no matter what the pop psychology says about men who move to mountains.
Or why others thought I had.
And now there was a woman drying out by my fire, hair the color of good whiskey, still damp from the storm, filling up my silence.
Fuck. The way that blouse clung to her under her ill-fitting blazer.
Full, soft curves that made my body hard.
I wanted to peel it off her and find out if she tasted as good as she looked.
I was self-aware enough to know that wanting something and being smart enough not to take it were two different decisions.
“You have a guest room, I assume,” she said, not quite a question. “Since apparently I’m stuck here.”
“I do.” The paperwork was still sitting where I’d dropped it, smudged and dirty. She hadn’t looked at it once since we’d come inside. The first person who’d come up here as my grandfather’s errand boy, had gotten himself literally kicked off my mountain. And more had followed.
“Well, Mr. Cole, since we’re apparently roommates until this storm passes, you should know I intend to spend every spare minute of it trying to get you to approve this project.”
I wanted to tell her to drop the formality and call me Harrison and then decided against giving her the inch. “That won’t be happening.”
She looked at me, open curiosity on her face. “You really don’t want anything to do with your grandfather’s company.”
“Not with the company. With people trying to entice me back to the company. There’s a difference, and my granddad knows it. You can tell him I said the answer’s still no, and he can stop wasting good assistants on a bad bet.”
She lifted her chin. “I’m not a bad bet. I’m very good at my job.”
“I don’t doubt it. Doesn’t change the answer.”
“You could at least hear why he wants your approval. Maybe he has doubts.”
“My grandfather is still sharp as a tack and if you work for him, you know that. No, he wants me back in the boardroom I walked out of a decade ago. He’s decided the direct approach isn’t working, so now he’s trying something new.
Send his minions to convince, coerce or charm me.
It’s not going to work better just because he’d sent someone I couldn’t stop looking at.
Her arms came up, wrapping around her ribs instead of crossing them.
I suspected for a moment she did that on purpose.
The first person my grandfather had sent had been a tall, willowy blonde who’d tried to get my approval with a bright smile.
After that, I’d called my grandfather and told him to call off his vultures.
Apparently, he’d decided to up his game.
I couldn’t help the look I gave Elle. There was nothing artificial about her body. All natural curves. Everywhere.
She didn’t push, which I hadn’t expected. Just perched on the edge of the couch. She undid her blazer, letting it fall open. Her scent carried to me. Soft and sweet and completely fucking dangerous.
The blouse underneath was thin enough that I could see the faint outline of her bra. My cock started to harden. I forced myself to look at the fire.
“For what it’s worth,” she finally said. “This is a good deal. I’ve read the file. You, your grandfather and your shareholders will stand to make a substantial amount of money.”
“And what’s in it for you?”
“What? I’m just doing my job.”
“Mm. No one volunteers to drive six hours round trip into the wilds of Montana. What’s in it for you?”
She tossed her head. The move a tell of defiance. “Maybe keeping my job? Not all of us can afford to walk away from everything.”
That made me pause. I looked at her again, this time without the lust covered glasses.
She barely wore any makeup. Her jacket was two sizes too small, and her dress looked about as comfortable as a grain sack, but she wore it anyway.
Why? Because it was the expected attire of an assistant to the CEO.
I followed the long line of her legs. Her shoes had a few scruff marks if you looked close enough.
I knew instinctively, she wore those because of expectation and not comfort.
“I must admit, he’s getting smarter. Sending an assistant instead of another attorney.”
“Why is that?”
“He knows I won’t take my bad temper out on you.”
“Well, that’s one saving grace for being poor, I guess.” She drew in a deep breath. “He thinks you hung the moon, and it breaks something in him every time you won’t return a call.”
“Careful,” I said quietly. “I might think you’re doing this for something other than the bonus you were no doubt promised.”
“Does that mean you’ll look at that?” She pointed to the document on the table.
“No.”
Old memories came sliding through. Ten years ago I’d stood at an altar in a suit that cost more than most people’s cars and watched a woman in white walk toward me wearing a smile that turned out to be entirely rehearsed.
She hadn’t wanted me. She’d wanted the power associated with the Cole family name.
The kind of life my money bought — and if I was being honest with myself, which I generally was, I hadn’t exactly been offering much beyond that either.
I hadn’t walked away that day with a broken heart.
Just more jaded when it came to trusting people.
I’d bought the side of a mountain and never looked back.
My heart hadn’t been broken. My pride hadn’t been wounded.
But my trust? That was still bent.
I still liked my life. I’d simply stopped extending trust to anyone who hadn’t earned it first, and decided that suited me fine.
I hadn’t given up the company because it broke me.
I’d given it up because staying in that world meant staying in rooms full of people who looked at me the way my ex had.
Like a number with a face attached. I’d gotten arrogant enough, and rich enough, to simply stop showing up.
The mountain wasn’t a retreat. It was a decision.
I could afford the house, the land, the isolation, and I could just as easily afford to walk back into any boardroom I chose.
I chose not to. That was the whole point.
I stood by the fire, watching Elle. First woman in longer than I wanted to admit who’d made it past the front hallway without me deciding inside thirty seconds that I wanted her gone.
I studied her in silence. Her hair was a mess but somehow suited her more than the tight bun.
Taking in her clothing, I realized the meaning of her earlier muttered words.
Saving grace for being poor. She did not spend money on clothing or makeup.
Her blouse clung to her big breasts and rounded belly.
And her skirt. That ass in that skirt was making my self-control lapse just a little.
More than a little. I wanted to get my hands on it and find out exactly how well it filled my palms, and I was annoyed at myself for wanting it less than five hours into knowing her.
“I shouldn’t have said that,” I said. “About you being an assistant.”
She didn’t turn around. “No. You shouldn’t have.”
“I say ugly things when people push.”
“Noted. For the record, I’ve never had a helping hand in my life.
Not one. I worked three jobs through community college.
I clawed my way into your grandfather’s office through a temp agency, and I stayed because I’m good at it, not because I’m angling for anything from anyone named Cole.
So you can be as arrogant as you want up here on your mountain.
But don’t you dare accuse me of being under anybody’s thumb.
I’ve spent my whole life making sure I never have to be. ”
I allowed myself a small smile, enjoying her show of determination. She had teeth. I liked teeth. I liked them more than I liked being agreed with, which was most of what I got from people these days.
The attraction that I was already finding difficult to suppress rose higher. How much fun would it be to show her how good it would feel to let someone else be in charge?
The fire cracked between us. Outside, the wind had picked up, throwing snow against the windows in long white gusts.
Maybe it was the storm. Maybe it was that I hadn’t had company in longer than I wanted to count, particularly the kind wearing a blouse like that.
Whatever it was, some of my irritation at finding her on my porch had quietly rearranged itself into something else entirely.
“Storm’s coming in faster than they said,” I said instead, because it was easier than anything else I might have said.
I repeated my earlier words. “You’re not going anywhere tonight. ”
“You already said that.”
“And you didn’t believe me, now did you?”
She looked out the window again. It was almost dark and her car was covered and the trees were already bowing under the weight of the snow on their branches. It was a beautiful sight. The fall colors looked brilliant under the layer of white.
She didn’t answer, but then I hadn’t expected her to. She’d been thrown into a situation she hadn’t asked for. “Is there somewhere where I can...”
“Third door on the left.”
She got up and smoothed that skirt down her thick thighs. Again, my body registered the fact that she was a curvy woman. Big breasts, wide hips, thick thighs. The kind of woman I usually preferred.
She brushed past me and I didn’t move out of her way.
I let her shoulder graze my chest. Allowed myself that brief moment of heat along my arm.
First real interest I’d felt in a woman in years that had nothing to do with scratching an itch and everything to do with wanting to know what she’d sound like arguing with me in bed instead of my living room.
I’d slept with exactly three women since the wedding that wasn’t, and decided somewhere after the third that even that wasn’t worth the bother anymore. Most of them bored me. Elle Marsh was, so far, doing the opposite of boring me, and that was going to be a problem.
I watched her walk to the bathroom, a slight sway to her hips that wasn’t manufactured. It was just the way her body moved. I had to remember that she was here to get me to do something I had no intention of doing.
No matter how tempting the package might be.