Baby, It's Cold Outside (23 page)

Heat speared her gut and moved lower. Maybe she was better off not knowing what she’d said. But now that she’d asked Wes to share, he appeared to be really warming up to the task.

“And then there was the mention of kitchen utensils,” he said.

She coughed hard and sat up straighter, her mind racing. “Kitchen utensils?” Her voice sounded embarrassingly husky. “What kind of kitchen utensils?”

“Pastry brushes,” he said. “For the chocolate sauce.”

She’d never been that creative.

His mouth twitched, as if biting back a smile. “Cheesecloth in lieu of handcuffs.”

Her heart slid into third gear.

“And my personal favorite,” he said, the amused flicker in his eyes growing stronger. “The spatula.”

The words sent her pulse into overdrive. When the rest of his expression didn’t budge, she tipped her head at him, a glimmer of suspicion taking root. The pause was awkward for Evie, but apparently not for him. And who would have guessed Wes Campbell had a devilish side?

Bastard
.

Wes went on in a brisk, businesslike tone, as if reciting the latest financial figures of the Dow Jones Industrial Average. “But my favorite part of the event was when you promised to let me keep your Hello Kitty undies as a souvenir.”

The underwear she’d been given as a gag gift. But she would never, ever demean the ridiculous panties, or any other article of her clothing, to the level of a “souvenir.”

Would she?

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Are you teasing me?”

The faint smile was breathtakingly sensual, and frustratingly enigmatic.

“About the Hello Kitty part?” he said, and then his voice shifted lower, making her uncomfortably aware of him as a man. “Or the promise that I could keep them?”

Screw it. She didn’t want to know anymore. She wasn’t sure which was worse, her vodka-induced words or Wes’s delighted delivery.

Evie tamped down the surprising attraction and struggled to regain control of the situation. Definitely time for a change in topic. “How long have I been asleep?”

“Since I plopped you on the bench,” he said. “About five hours.”

Her voice came out as a squeak. “What?”

“Five hours,” he repeated matter-of-factly. “Long enough for the second winter storm they’d predicted to close in faster than they’d thought.”

Oh, crap
.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she said, frantically bending to gather her bags. “I should try to get out of here while I can.”

“Won’t do any good,” he said. “All flights have been canceled and the roads are a mess.”

Evie pushed the hair out of her face and eyed the crowd. For the first time she noticed the chaos went beyond the usual holiday madness. Mixed in with the festive, seasonal music and decorations, the airline passengers looked frazzled, many of them camped around the terminal, settling in for a long wait.

“I tried to wake you up,” Wes continued. “But you were passed out.”

She stared at him, dumbfounded. “Why didn’t you just leave me?”

“I couldn’t abandon you here, unprotected. Vulnerable to any crazed lunatic that wondered by.”

Of course not, because he always did the right thing. The responsible one who believed in his authority. And after spending years on the road with Chuck’s band, the footloose and not-so-fancy-free existence had slowly worn her down. Because, over time, she’d learned that someone had to be responsible. Someone had to ensure the bookings were made. So she’d assumed the role of manager, assuring that the bills were paid and the bus repaired. And the girl who had bolted from home looking for escape from the impossible expectations of her family had gradually learned that the free-spirited lifestyle came with a cost, too.

She stared at Wes’s face, the eyes that, at one time, had irritated her with their authoritative, no-nonsense air. Chuck would have left her sleeping, vulnerable, with a note that he’d gone on to their destination.

Blinking back the surge of gratitude, she held his sexy gaze.

“We might have made it out if we’d left right away,” he went on. “Unfortunately, we’re stuck here until the weather improves.”

She blew out a quiet breath. Hadn’t she humiliated herself enough? Was she to endure more?

“It’s only an hour commute,” she said. “I’ll take my chances on the road.”

Not that she was in any hurry to face her family.

“No, you won’t,” he said. “While you were sleeping, I called Dan. He said the roads were impassable. And I promised your brother I wouldn’t let you do anything reckless.” He paused, as if waiting for her to object—to what, she wasn’t sure. To his unilateral decision? His use of the word reckless? Evie worked hard to keep the embarrassment from showing on her face. “As soon as I heard the news,” he said, “I got us the last hotel room within walking distance.”

If he’d been anyone else Evie would’ve suspected a lead-up to a seduction. With Wes, she was as safe as they came.

And after a brief moment of reflection, she felt a piercing pain of disappointment.

Wes stood, towering over her—she’d forgotten how tall he was. “Tomorrow is going to be a busy day at work,” he said. “And now that you’re awake, I’d really like to get to the room.”

The potentially suggestive words skittered across her senses like a caress. Ignoring the surprising pulse of awareness, she studied him closely. For the first time she noted the fatigue in his eyes. Obviously his New Year’s Eve celebration had ended late. If he hadn’t felt the need to stand guard over her, he would be sleeping in his own bed about now.

Guilt hit hard. He wouldn’t let her risk braving the storm to get home, and the longer she resisted the longer he had to wait to catch some sleep. With a sigh, she stood and tossed her cup in the trash, glad the coffee and rest had cured most of her hangover.

“Okay, let’s go,” she said. “If I attempted the commute, you’d feel obligated to follow, just to make sure I arrived safely.”

And the thought briefly warmed her heart.

“True,” he said slowly. He tipped his head. “But that wouldn’t have stopped you before.”

Those gorgeous hazel eyes studied her for moment, as if seeing her in a new light. She was certainly seeing him differently, with his ruffled hair and fine, powerful physique. But, after all these years, it appeared their first encounter hadn’t left him with the best of impressions. Normally her fear of flying would have been easier to handle. Unfortunately, after her recent run of bad luck, a plane crash had seemed a very real possibility.

“Don’t be too impressed,” she said, biting back a cynical smile. “After my recent string of catastrophes, I figured we both would have wound up dead in a snow-filled ditch somewhere.”

“Then I guess we’ll have to be extra careful on our walk to the hotel.” The answering crinkle of humor bracketing his mouth added to his appeal, leaving her longing for the possibility their destination brought.

Great
.

A cold walk outside was definitely in order.

…

Carrying both suitcases was difficult as Wes trudged through the bitter wind and blowing snow, the lamp-lit sidewalk leading to the hotel almost knee-deep in the cold white stuff. His dress shoes were hardly appropriate, his feet freezing, but the knee-high black boots Evie was wearing were worse. Her leather jacket was ridiculously inadequate, as were the knit gloves with the cut-out fingers. And her knit hat was more for show than warmth. Twice she’d slipped and fallen in the snow. Twice Wes had helped her to her feet and offered her his coat, only to be refused.

Her stubborn insistence was no surprise, but the fact that she hadn’t fought him about heading out onto the road
was
. Time and experience had changed her. The old Evie would have stormed off, fueled by his declaration that he wasn’t about to let her go. Because the surest method to get her to do something had been to tell her she couldn’t.

But the new Evie had simply studied him, a newfound wisdom in her gaze that was both unexpected and disturbing. And, like the hint of vulnerability, added to the complexity of her allure.

A gust of icy wind stung his face, but Wes wasn’t cold enough. Because the fire that the sexy little vixen had started on the plane had persisted—her sloppy yet seductive come-ons totally adorable.

And incredibly erotic.

Wes tamped down the memories, glad his frigid feet were available to cool the heated blood in his veins. Any hotter and he could melt a path between here and the hotel.

“What did you say to Dan when you talked to him?” she said.

“That I’d run into you on the plane,” he said. The worried look on her face was entertaining, and he couldn’t resist letting a slight smile slip. “I didn’t share your attempt to seduce me.”

She stopped on the sidewalk and narrowed her gaze at him. “Did I really mention kitchen utensils?”

Wes halted beside her. The skeptical look on her face bunched her brow in a way that was too charming for comfort. No, the culinary tools had been the result of his own overly imaginative libido. But since she’d subjected him to the torture of offering him something he couldn’t have, it had only seemed fair to pay her back.

And he wasn’t ready to let her off the hook so easily, not when he was still revved up from her intoxicated seduction attempts.

He continued up the sidewalk. “Are you really wearing Hello Kitty underwear?” He brushed off the crackling sizzle the question created in his body.

She huffed out a breath and trudged on beside him, clearly declaring the topic an impasse. After a few more moments filled with the sound of whipping wind, the sting of pelting snowflakes, and a pregnant silence, she said, “What else did you tell Dan?”

His heart pinched a touch, and he gave up the teasing tone. “I didn’t mention the part where you passed out.”

“Thank you,” she said, and then she winced. “He would have told Mom and Dad. And my return home is going to be difficult enough.”

He tried for an encouraging tone. “They’ll simply be happy to see you.”

But Wes knew her father well enough to know there would be rough times ahead. Through the years, Wes had witnessed enough of the man’s tendency to fire disapproving words at his daughter. In truth, Wes had always admired the way she’d stood up for herself, refusing to change in the face of overwhelming pressure on all fronts. At home. At the exclusive private school. By the very town she’d been raised in. If she’d lived somewhere else, with a different family, he doubted she would have been quite so obstinate.

He glanced at her set face and let out a silent scoff. Or maybe she would have.

“Happy to see me?” Evie’s brow furrowed with pure skepticism. “I doubt that.”

“They love you,” he said.

“Not as much as they love you.”

An annoying flare of guilt made his words harder than he’d intended. “That’s not true.”

“Oh please, my parents love me because they’re supposed to, but they
adore
you,” she said with a wry crinkle of her brow. “You’re so…so…” She looked him up and down and sent him a faint frown of disgust that held no heart. “Perfect.”

Perfect? How could a man whose life had been reduced to spending New Year’s Eve with a
client
be considered perfect? “How do you figure that?”

“With your fabulously successful investment firm”—she rolled her eyes—“your perfect looks, and your perkily perfect, Stepford-esque girlfriends.” She glanced at him curiously. “Whatever happened to that girl you dated in college?”

“We got married.”

Evie’s gasp was loud enough to be heard over the whipping wind, and she came to a halt, closing her eyes. “Oh, God,” she croaked, sounding miserable and looking entirely too cute. “I threw myself at a married man?”

Technically, she’d thrown herself at a man who was rapidly approaching the definition of a pathetic workaholic.

“Don’t worry,” he finally said. A muscle in his cheek twitched as he went on. “Sara and I got divorced two years ago.”

Her eyes flew open, her warm gaze meeting his. “Oh.”

She looked as if she didn’t know whether to be happily relieved or appropriately sad.

He relaxed a fraction. “But, cheer up,” he said with a slight shrug, pushing aside the unhappy memories. “You’ll be glad to learn the divorce went perfectly, too.”

Her smile was infectious—her eyes lit, and he fought the answering smile. Until the shared amusement, the need to connect won out. A tiny grin crept up his face, kicking Evie’s up a notch as well.

Which only made her more beautiful.

Time stretched until awareness encroached, flickering through her chocolate-colored eyes and bringing a tension best ignored. Exactly what he’d wanted to avoid. He cleared his throat and, without a word, restarted their trek through the drift-covered walk.

The howling gusts increased, dropping the wind chill to almost unbearable. The light from the streetlamp lit up the snow, the swirling white flecks cutting through the dark winter night. Ten minutes later they were halfway there when Wes noticed that her lips looked an alarming shade of blue, her face as pale as when the flight had taken off. He wasn’t sure, but he thought he saw her shiver.

He set their suitcases down. “Take my coat.”

“No,” she said. Huge snowflakes stuck to her hair. “It wouldn’t be fair if I had two and you had none.”

“Evie, you look as if you’re one step away from hypothermia.” Concern made his tone sharper than he’d planned.

But despite her misery, the stubborn tilt to her chin remained fixed. “Dude, I’ve been taking care of myself for a very long time. I’m fine.”

And then her boot slipped again. But this time, she landed butt-first in a pile of snow. When she didn’t pop right back up, he knew things were worse than he’d thought. After he’d convinced her not to attempt the drive, the stubborn little rebel was
still
going to wind up dead in a snow-filled ditch.

“Jesus, Evie,” he said, his voice rough as he stepped forward. He pulled her up and wrapped her arms around him until she was flush against his chest, enveloping her inside his coat, and a whole host of sensations hit him at once.