Chapter Sixteen #2
“Or you’re friends with someone, and then one day you realize you could be more than friends.” Raz didn’t look at Renee as she spoke, but she hoped her meaning was clear.
“Yeah, I guess so.” A hand gripped Raz’s under the table, and Raz looked over at Renee, startled. The other woman smiled. “Sometimes it takes a while to see what’s right in front of you,” Renee said.
Raz didn’t have time to answer before the server began setting their food in front of them. But Renee kept hold of her hand. That was probably a good thing, since otherwise, Raz thought she might float away from sheer happiness.
“One thing’s for sure,” Brian said as he poured ketchup on his fries. “If Nina’s stalker is here, he’s not following her and Liam to that ski hut.”
“Right,” Connor said. “No way will he find her way out there.”
* * *
Nina added another stick of wood to the stove at the ski hut, then settled onto the sofa to watch the blaze flare as the fresh fuel caught.
Next to the windows that looked out over the bowl, the cabin was cold, but here by the fire, snuggled beside Liam with the dogs on either side of them, they were cozy and warm.
The only real drawback to the hut was a complete lack of cell service.
Not being able to summon help if needed made her a little nervous, but as long as they were careful, they would be safe here.
And getting away from the clamor of the outside world for a couple of days would be good.
“This has been one of the best days in a long time,” she said, and laid her head on his shoulder.
“Mine, too.” He patted her thigh. “Do you remember the hut we visited in Austria?”
“The one that looked like a little hobbit home, tucked in the deep snow? It had that huge tile stove, and a sauna.”
“After the sauna, we ran naked through the snow all the way back to the cabin and dove under the covers in front of that huge stove.” He traced the silken curve of her shoulder, remembering.
“And made love most of the night,” she said, and eased her hand beneath his shirt.
He turned to her eagerly. No more apologies for the past or for the future. She seemed as content as he was to focus on the now and being together. Experience had taught him the secret to getting through the worst times—by focusing on whatever bit of good you could glean from each day.
He helped her out of her pants and underwear, but suggested she leave on her thermal top. “I like the way that silk feels against your breasts,” he said. He bent and licked her nipple through the fabric.
“I like that, too.” She arched against him, head back, as he continued to focus on her breasts. Then she stilled.
“What was that?” she asked.
“What was what?”
“I thought I heard a snowmobile.”
He raised his head and listened. He heard it now, too—the low whine of an engine. “I didn’t think they were allowed up here,” he said.
“I don’t think they are,” she said. “But it’s a hard rule to enforce, with no regular patrols up here.” She sat up, the mood destroyed. “You don’t think the stalker followed us up here, do you?”
Liam was sitting now, too. “How would he know we’re here? Listen, whoever it is has gone past.” The roar of the snowmobile had almost completely faded. “There’s another hut a few miles away. Maybe whoever that was is headed there.”
“It seems dangerous, riding around up here in the dark,” she said.
“Probably not to someone familiar with the area.”
“You’re right.” She glanced toward the front door. “Did you lock the door?”
“Yes.”
“Thanks. I feel better now. They’re gone.” She snuggled against him once more, her hand on his hip, then moving around to caress his buttock.
They made love there on the sofa, beneath the blanket in front of the fire, while the logs crackled and flared.
They took their time, drawing out their pleasure, comfortable with each other in the way of longtime lovers for whom passion still burns.
It wasn’t as if they had physically been with each other that long, only that being with her felt so right.
Afterward, they lay together drowsing, until discomfort forced him to pull away from her. “I need to go out to the outhouse,” he said. “I’ll take the dogs with me, so they can run around a bit.”
“All right.” She sounded sleepy. She would probably drift off as soon as he left.
It took a few minutes to get dressed and put a jacket on Angel.
They stepped out into air sharp with cold.
The snow crunched beneath his boots like gravel, and he didn’t need to turn on his headlamp—the light of the nearly-full moon was so bright.
All around snow lay as smooth as fondant on a wedding cake, and the silence was so complete he could hear the rushing of blood in his ears.
When he reached the log outhouse, he could make out snowmobile tracks fifty yards away, veering away from the hut.
He’d been right, then—someone was headed to the hut beyond this one.
Funny they had traveled this way, since that hut was actually closer to a different trail.
They’d either gotten confused, or purposely taken a longer route.
He emerged from the outhouse a few minutes later and called the dogs. He hadn’t bothered to don his mittens when he left the hut, so he shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his parka.
A heavy weight slammed him in the back, and he staggered, then gasped as something tightened around his neck.
He clawed at the binding—a rope or string—fighting desperately to breathe as the ligature tightened.
The person who had jumped him clung to his back, a burden he couldn’t shake.
He was vaguely aware of a dog—Sky?—barking, then the world grayed, and he sank to his knees, then toppled over, surrendering to blackness.