Chapter Eighteen
Ian paced the living room, waiting for signs of life from Breanna’s suite next door. Well past nine, and it didn’t appear she was awake yet. Subdued throughout their dinner of Thanksgiving leftovers last night, she excused herself during dessert, pushing aside a half-eaten piece of banana cream pie.
Maybe he should have gone after her, but thought it best to let her be. He’d laid a lot on her yesterday. Breanna needed some time to herself to sort through it, process it, and come to her own conclusions.
From her spot by the hearth, Hera lifted her head. Ears pointed up, tail thumping, ice-blue eyes tracked his path back and forth. She barked at him, though it sounded more as if she were speaking without words.
“Time to wake up our princess. Is that what you’re thinking, girl?”
Her pink tongue hanging out, the dog got up on all fours.
“Yeah, I am too.” With a pat on his thigh, Ian signaled Hera to follow him. “Let’s go.”
She’d left the glass door to the deck unlocked again. Tsk, tsk. He made a mental note to speak to her about it. Breanna shouldn’t be so careless with her safety.
Dying embers littered the firebox. Ian added some wood and lit the kindling, so the room would be warm, a fire burning, when he woke her. Then he made them some coffee, got water from the mini-fridge, and quietly slipped inside her room.
He set the coffee down on the nightstand and watched her sleep, all alone in the middle of the king-size bed. Hair a mess. Arms stretched over her head, elbows bent. With the covers jumbled at her waist, Ian fixed his gaze on the gentle rise and fall of Breanna’s chest and the taut, little breast that peeked out from the loose nightshirt she wore.
Jesus.
She looked so beautiful like that. Reminded of the first morning he woke up beside her, Ian was of the mind to crawl into that bed and rouse her with his cock in her cunt and that nipple between his teeth. His dick more than twitched at the thought.
He eased himself down onto the bed, carefully, so as not to wake her just yet. The sweet scent of fresh oranges drifted from her hair. He buried his face in it. Ian inhaled, infusing his lungs with her, and slowly, softly, he trailed his fingertips over the delicate, silky fabric. He cupped her breast, her warm breath fanning his ear, his thumb circling her nipple.
With a puff of air blowing past her lips, Breanna squeaked.
“Wake up now, princess.”
She moved. Soft hands settling on his back, her sleepy voice whispered, “Sinjin?”
“Good morning.”
Dark lashes fluttered. Fingertips grazing his cheek, Breanna looked at him with those fairytale eyes. “Good morning.”
“Here.” Reaching for the cup on the nightstand, Ian offered it to her and winked. “I made you coffee. Cream, no sugar. Just the way you like it.”
“Thanks.” Sitting back against the headboard with a yawn, she took it from him. “Is this a cousin thing?”
Huh? His brows cinching together, he cocked his head.
“Showing up in a girl’s room uninvited.”
“You left the door to the deck unlocked,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders.
“Oh, my bad.” She made a face, lifting the cup to her lips. “I didn’t realize an unlocked door meant an open invitation.”
“For some people, it does.” Ian smirked, twisting her hair around his finger. “Unsavory characters…”
“Like you?”
“Exactly.” He watched the silken strand unravel. “I hope you’re not this reckless at school…and what do you mean, cousin thing?”
“Derek has a habit of sneaking in here, too.”
The no-good sonofabitch.
Anger surged. His cousin’s threats weren’t empty then. He meant what he said. If Breanna didn’t sign Derek’s phony documents, and Ian would make sure she didn’t, he’d get what he was after some other way.
Fisting the hair in his fingers, Ian brought her face closer to his. “Keep the fucking doors locked, Breanna.”
“Yeah, okay,” she said, snickering. “Except he knows the key code.”
“I can change it,” he gritted.
Blue eyes searching his, Breanna nodded. “All right.”
“I don’t want you alone with him. Ever.” Loosening his grip, Ian’s lips brushed over hers. “Am I clear?”
“Perfectly.”
“Good girl.” He let her go. “Now, I want you to take a shower and get dressed. I hope your roommate sent you something warmer than your leather jacket because we’re going out after breakfast.”
“We are? Where?” Setting her coffee down, Breanna didn’t sound very thrilled with the idea. “I wanted to go back upstairs and…”
“Later.” Ian captured her lips between his. “There’s something I want you to see first.”
She came down the stairs, floating like a cloud in a white puffer jacket, pulling a beanie on top of her head. Good thing he still had his wits about him, because if he didn’t, he’d have taken her right back up those stairs and into his bed. That would come later, too, but right now, Ian needed her to realize just what Derek was trying to take from her.
Extending his hand as she neared the bottom, Breanna took it.
“Are you taking my advice, dear?” Francie asked, coming down the hall.
“Yes, Auntie.” He laced their fingers together to stop himself from kissing her.
“It’s lovely outside today,” Francie said, giving each of them a hug. “So make good use of it. Last I heard, that storm may hit sooner than expected—as early as tomorrow.”
Fine by him. It would buy them some time, and with any luck at all, Derek would keep his sorry ass in Sacramento.
Ian opened the front door, and taking Breanna by the hand, led her down the walkway, past the portico, to the service garage. He entered the code, and the panels lifted, her stunned gaze sweeping over an array of ATVs, snowplows, and power shovels.
She ignored his Mercedes-AMG GT, walking right over to the Raptor parked next to it. “I remember you.” Running her fingers along the glossy black paint, Breanna glanced back at him. “Okay, let’s go.”
“We’re not taking the truck.” With a grin, he nodded toward the waiting Polaris. “Hop on, princess.”
“I am so not getting on that thing,” she said, her head tossing from side to side.
“Yes, you are.” Ian lifted her onto the sled’s passenger seat. “How else am I supposed to show you your mountain?”
“I’ve seen enough of it, thank you.” Putting her gloves on, Breanna blew out a breath. “Besides, it isn’t mine.”
“Yes, it is.” He sat down on the sled in front of her, placing her arms around his waist. “And, baby, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”
It took but a moment for the rush of adrenalin to hit her. Taking a drink of brilliant sunshine, surrounded by the bluest winter sky and the purest white snow, Breanna held onto him tight, the sound of swooshing wind accompanying her gleeful laughter.
Ian took her up past the edge of the tree line. Stopping there, he sat her on his lap and pointed. “See that shimmer way out there on the horizon?”
“Yes, I see it.”
“That’s Tahoe.” Watching her face, he rubbed her gloved hand with his.
She smiled. “We went there the summer my brother turned two.”
So close. Why didn’t her mom bring her to see Valerie?
Breanna would have been thirteen then, and Ian, twenty-two. He’d spent so many of his days—and wild nights with women he could no longer remember—at Tahoe that summer before law school. He could’ve walked right past his princess, not that he’d have noticed her then.
“You’ve got a lake here too.” Kind of. “There’s a waterfall that empties into a large pool, then makes its way down the mountain. We swam there as kids. I know your dad did, too.” He chuckled at the memory. “The water’s always fucking freezing. We never did seem to mind, though. C’mon, I’ll show you.”
And he did.
Ian took her to see the bighorn sheep. Told her all about the mountain lions who preyed on them, the black bears that would slumber until the return of spring, while pointing out redwood, and cedar, and pine. He wanted Breanna to fall in love with this place. Needed her to. She’d fight for it then. If she didn’t, Derek would surely win.
Powder flying, he followed the stream on his path down the mountain. Then, reaching his destination, he skidded to a stop. After switching off the engine, he removed his gloves and lifted her from the sled. “You’re tied to that house, this land, whether or not you want to be. It’s in your blood, baby.” Warming her cold, windburned cheeks in his hands, he touched his lips to the fading bruise on her forehead. “That’s our cabin.”
“Your castle in the storm, princess.”
She turned around. Knee-deep in snow, thirty feet from the back of it, Breanna gazed at the small frosted window and smiled. “I want to go in.”
His arms came around her, holding her back to his chest. Seven days. Why did it seem like a lifetime ago? Ian brought her here, fed her soup, and fucked her bare—except it felt like a lot more than just fucking. He made love to her, didn’t he? And that was something he’d never done with anyone before.
Nope, and I told myself I never would, so, how’d you get me to do it, princess?
“We can.” Ian gripped her nape, and bringing her mouth to his, he nipped at her lips. “But I have a much better idea.”
“Yeah, and what’s that?”
“I’ll show you.” He kissed her. “Let’s go home.”