Chapter 22 - Paisley
Yes, I had probably lost my mind, jumping on Dan like that.
But in the grand scheme of things, with my shady corporation out there killing people off of a list I was surely next on, this wasn’t the worst mistake I could have made.
I was nice and warm in Dan’s arms, which was definitely better than stubbornly trying to sleep on that hard bench all alone.
I was more than warm, I was burning up and loving it.
The little voice of reason in my head was good and silent as I basked in Dan’s kisses.
The night at the resort was no fluke. He wasn’t just the best I’d ever had because I had no one to compare him to.
I was convinced now, with my body still tingling, that I’d probably never be with another man who could do what Dan did.
That should have pissed me off, or been severely depressing. He was still bossy and insufferable and would probably revert to making me miserable the moment we were rescued and back in the lodge. But that wasn’t on my mind right now when his hand was sliding down my belly on a mission.
I could hate him again when we were back to normal.
None of this was real, anyway, just an interlude that could have been full of anxiety and discomfort, huddled alone trying to stay warm in front of the rapidly dying fire.
I would much rather enjoy what he had to offer than be consumed with the bleak outlook of my life when this job was done.
Why did I want to think about having to go on the run when Dan’s fingers found the spot that had me gasping again?
Nope, this was better, at least for now.
After yet another amazing display of his prowess, we eventually fell asleep, cozy under the blankets despite their roughness and warm even when the fire died completely. The next morning I woke up to icy toes since I’d rolled over and stretched out, one foot breaking free of the covers.
I yanked it back under and rolled to cuddle up to Dan’s furnace of a chest. He lazily swung his arm around me, then hissed when my foot touched his leg. With a laugh, he pulled my leg up and began chafing my toes to warm them up.
I lay there watching him rub my foot, not certain he was the same guy who relentlessly teased me the last few days.
Was he secretly sweet? He certainly wasn’t being secretive about it now, finally getting up to put the last few logs in the stove and stoking a fire.
Strolling around in all his naked glory like it wasn’t around fifty degrees in the cabin, he filled up the kettle and put it on the stove so we could have morning coffee.
“I’d give half my fortune for a toothbrush,” he teased.
I was sure my breath was on par, so it hardly mattered. “I’d give half your fortune for more firewood,” I said seriously.
Getting out of the tangle of blankets, I hurriedly got my long underwear back on and pulled one of the curtains aside.
There were snow drifts up past the level of the glass, and everywhere as far as I could see.
It was still coming down, but much slower, and there was a faint ball of sun trying its hardest to break through the clouds.
Tiny flakes landed on the glass, the beautiful crystals shining against the weak sunlight before melting.
“I think it’s warming up outside, but it’s still snowing.”
Dan nodded, getting dressed and trying the front door. Thankfully it opened inward or we would have been truly trapped. Two feet of snow greeted us, some of it tumbling in. Dan jumped back like he was dodging the tide, but resolutely put his clothes and boots on.
“Are you crazy?” I asked.
“You’ve asked me that before,” he told me. “I would think you’d know the answer by now. We need firewood.”
With his long, muscular legs straining and his gloved hands swiping away as much of the thickly packed powder as he could, he managed to get several yards from the door. Turning in a circle, he smiled and turned back to me.
“There’s a shed. I’ll be back—eventually.”
“Oh for goodness’ sake,” I muttered, pulling my snowpants and parka back on.
I followed the path he made and caught up with him, still trudging with great effort toward the woodshed. At least I hoped there was wood in it.
“Now who’s the crazy one?” he asked with a scowl when he heard me struggling through the ravine he created.
“I can’t not help out,” I argued.
“Of course you can. Get back inside.”
“Quit being sexist. I’m as strong as you are.”
He cracked up at that, then took a long look around him. “It’s certainly beautiful out here, isn’t it?” he asked, his gaze settling on me.
It was, with the craggy mountaintops looming above us, surrounded by a blinding white expanse. “Don’t deflect,” I said, turning back to him with a fake scowl, then returning his appreciative stare. “But yes, the view’s not too bad.”
His laughter soon turned to a stream of obscenities, some of them in Russian, when he realized the door of the shed opened outwards and was wedged shut by a heavy drift of snow.
“What did you just say?” I asked. “I know they were bad words, but give me a Russian lesson while we dig.”
We both hunkered down and began sweeping and tossing snow. “Not on your life. I shouldn’t have even uttered such words in front of a woman. Go ahead and call me sexist again and I’ll pick you up and tie you to one of those metal bed frames.”
I blushed and he grinned, raising his eyebrows. “So it seems like you’d like that.”
I tossed a handful of snow at him with a satisfying splat. When he began gathering up a huge pile in his shovel sized hands, I quickly retreated, holding up my hands in defeat.
“Okay, I get it, you’re bigger and stronger. Let’s get that darn door open before I lose a toe.”
“I’ll rub them again,” he promised, making me blush harder. “Perhaps while you’re tied up.”
I had to get off this line of discussion in a hurry, because to my dismay, I kind of liked the idea of being at his mercy.
Wasn’t I already? So far I hadn’t suffered very much and that was thanks to him.
I looked around again, then up at the sky.
It was no longer coming down with blizzard force, but the clouds that kept gathering as far as I could see were dark and threatening.
“I don’t think they’ll send anyone out when it’s like this,” I said.
Dan heaved the door open with a final grunt of exertion and turned to me in triumph. “That’s fine. Look here.”
The shed was piled high with dry logs and I breathed a sigh of relief. At least we wouldn’t be popsicles when we were eventually found. After we carried armloads of it into the cabin, Dan remembered his phone, hurrying back outside to see if he could get a signal.
I stood in the doorway, my hands clasped in front of me, hoping as well as not hoping that he could get a call out to let someone know we were still alive and needed help. Could I actually want to stay there with him another night? My body sure did, even if my mind was racing with worry.
It was impossible to know exactly where we were since we wandered in those woods for a while, but I could at least explain to a rescue team which trail we’d been on before we got sidelined by the blizzard.
His ruddy face went pale and his usual cocky grin slid off of it. He shook his head and held up his phone for me to see when he was back inside.
There was still no signal and the thing was down to three percent battery, seconds from shutting itself off. Dan turned it off himself, citing that maybe that would keep it from completely dying.
“We’ll try again as soon as these clouds disperse,” he said, sounding so confident there was no room for me to worry.
As soon as the stove was piled high with fresh logs and a fire was blazing, he pulled out the deck of cards and motioned for me to join him at the counter. “Want to try to win back some of what you owe me?” he asked. “And then we can have lunch. I feel like protein bars, how about you?”
“A protein bar is exactly what I was craving,” I said, going along with his game of pretending everything was all right.
Another storm was brewing, the wind was back to rattling the window panes once again. The snow was already up past our knees and might completely block us in the cabin if it came down as hard as it did the day before. No one had a clue where to start looking for us.
I should have been horrified, trapped in a rickety cabin with limited food and no way to call for help. And yet, as I sat down across from Dan and he began to deal a hand of cards, I just wasn’t.