Chapter 4
MARCUS
Aknock at the door makes me look up from my laptop. I close the browser with Culture Slam’s webpage on it, not wanting whoever it is to see that I’ve been reading every piece by Hazel Lumley.
She’s a good writer, but she’s only done gallery openings and a few interviews with collectors. I wonder why she was sent to get my story.
I pull open the door and stop dead in my tracks at the sight before me. Hazel’s wrapped in one of the fluffy bath towels from the rental cabin. The moss green towel barely covers her full figure. The pale skin on her bare shoulders is dimpling in the cool air.
My gaze sweeps down her body taking in the line of the towel that pushes up her cleavage and the way she’s clasping it across her body as if the thing might fall off at any minute.
The towel’s too short and her thick thighs are on display, as luscious as I knew they would be when I first saw her in that tight skirt.
My mouth goes dry, and I’m instantly hard. I want to pull her inside and out of the cold, and at the same time I want to rip the towel off her to discover if she’s wearing panties underneath.
“There’s no hot water.”
My gaze lifts to her face and the innocent wide eyes.
She has no idea what she’s doing to me, knocking on my door in nothing but a towel. If I thought she was even remotely interested, I’d rip it off her and take her here on the doorstep.
I swallow hard, not even attempting to keep my eyes off the soft rise of her breasts that swell, tantalizingly soft and creamy, above the towel.
She’s saying something but I must have missed it, because she’s looking at me expectantly.
“Huh?”
I draw my gaze back to her face, and she’s staring at me with a slight smile.
“I said there’s no hot water.”
Hot water, right. My mind’s foggy, and all I can think about is yanking the towel off her and finding out what those breasts feel like cupped in my hands.
“I went to take a shower…”
She speaks slowly, like she’s talking to a child, and finally I realize what she’s saying and why she’s here.
“There’s no hot water?”
She looks nervous, and I guess she should with the way I’m ogling her. With a monumental effort, I keep my gaze on her face. She gives me a half smile, but her eyes flicker to the side.
She’s nervous.
She should be, showing up on a stranger’s doorstep in nothing but a towel. I’m twice her size. I could pull it off and push her against the door…
“Do you think you can fix it?”
“Huh?”
“Fix the shower.”
She puts a hand on her hip in exasperation and the towel slips a little, opening at the seam and giving me a flash of upper thigh. I make out a dark spot between her legs, a glimpse of wiry dark hair.
No panties.
“Fuck.” I turn away and run a hand through my hair.
This woman.
If I don’t get her out of here, I’m going to slam her up against the wall and take her right in the doorway.
“I’ll grab my tool kit. Meet you over there.”
“Thank you,” she calls after me as I retrieve my tool kit from under the sink. When I come back, she’s still standing in the doorway.
“For god’s sake, put some clothes on.”
Her eyes bug out of her head, but there’s a small smile on her lips. I wonder if she came over here on purpose to seduce me.
I’d be so lucky. I’m just trying to give myself an excuse to take her up against the wall.
No, she’s too innocent for that. Hazel went to take a shower, and the water was cold. She’s not trying to seduce an old grouchy mountain man like me.
I stride toward her cabin, and I hear her bare feet crunching on the leaves behind me. She’ll catch her death out here walking around in the cold in nothing but a flimsy towel.
When we get to her cabin, I don’t dare to look back. I toe my boots off and head into the bathroom. I had it fitted out a few months back when I started renting the place out.
The property came with both cabins and a shed, which I’ve turned into a workshop. I don’t need the money. I have shares in the family sawmill, and with my army pension and my carvings, I have everything I need. But it can get lonely on the mountain, and I like the company of an occasional visitor.
But right now I’m regretting my life choices.
The sexiest woman I’ve ever met is behind me in nothing but a towel. My knuckles turn white from gripping my toolbox so hard to keep from gripping her.
I head to the bathroom and try the shower. The knob is turned all the way to cold, so I switch it to hot and turn the shower on, staring at the water and waiting to see if it’ll heat up.
She’s behind me. I can tell by the scent of coffee and rose water. But I don’t dare look at her. Not if I want to avoid a lawsuit.
After a few minutes, steam rises off the water. I put my hand under the shower, and it’s scalding.
I risk a look at Hazel and she’s still in the goddamn towel, leaning casually against the bathroom door.
“You’ve got to turn it to the left for hot.”
“Oh.” She looks sheepish, biting her lower lip.
I frown. She’s a smart girl. I can tell by the way she writes. How’d she get the tap wrong? Maybe it’s the other way around where she comes from. All I know is I have to get out of here before I do something stupid.
“I’ll leave you alone to have your shower.”
“Stay.” Her voice comes out as a whisper that makes my cock jerk.
Her eyes widen, and her hand flies to her mouth. “I mean, stay and have a coffee with me. I’ll only be a minute. I’d like to explain.”
If I stay here with only a wall between us knowing she’s naked in that shower, there’s no telling what I might do.
“I can’t.”
Her brow furrows in that little frown she does when she’s not getting her way. With the dark smudges under her eyes, she suddenly looks tired. Maybe I’m being too harsh. It can’t be easy coming all this way only to be turned down.
“Look, Hazel, I’m not going to do the interview. Not even for a pretty girl in a towel.”
She looks down, and I can’t read her expression. I wonder if she came over in the towel on purpose to get my attention. It’s something a woman would do.
“I’m sorry you’ve come all this way.” Or am I?
My head’s been in a spin ever since she walked into HQ this morning.
I’m not going to give her the interview, but I’d sure as hell like to spend some time with her.
“I’m not going to talk to you about my work, but since you’re here, let me show you the mountain. ”
Her chin lifts up, but she looks defeated, resigned to some fate that I can only guess at. If she loses her job because of this, then her boss is more of an asshole than I thought.
But that doesn’t explain the worry in her eyes and the dark smudges. She looks like she needs some fun. Whatever’s got her up at night, she needs to put it out of her mind for a while.
“Then your trip won’t be wasted.”
Steam’s filling up the bathroom now, heating me up and doing nothing to help the fact that I’m on fire just being around her.
“I’ve never been to the mountains.”
The confession floors me. But I shouldn’t be surprised. She’s from New York. There’s so much to show her here.
“Good. I’ll collect you after breakfast tomorrow.”
She smiles, and a look of triumph crosses her face.
“I’m not changing my mind about the interview,” I warn before she gets any ideas. “But I will show you my mountain.”
I leave her to the shower and walk uncomfortably back to my cabin, trying not to let it show that I’ve got a massive boner.
As soon as I’m inside, I take my aching cock from my jeans and think about Hazel soaping herself down in the shower as I tug at myself.
My release comes fast, but it’s not satisfying. It won’t be until I’ve had the real thing.