A Deal With the Devil (7 page)

“
This way
just arrived on a silver platter. You can’t ignore that,” Kate said.

“Yes I can.” Furthermore, she intended to.

“Chances like this don’t sashay by every day. The door opened. You
have
to walk through,” Kate said. “It’s a sign.”

At best, it was a sign she should
sashay
for the hills. Jake broke her heart and almost a year later, the pieces were still scattered about. She hadn’t even attempted to gather them back up let alone put them back together again. “My gut tells me if I try, the door will either slam in my face or smack me in the ass as I walk through.”

“I swear. You’re such a Negative Nellie today. Can you at least pretend you’re capable of positive thought?”

“I prefer to think of myself as realistic. Unlike you, Miss Scarlett, your tomorrow-is-another-day philosophy doesn’t work for me. Certain things are better left in the past.”

“Whatever,” Kate said and Amanda heard Sam calling Kate’s name. “I have to run, hubby’s waiting. Think about it and call me later.”

Amanda hung up and tapped the phone against her chin as she stared at the ceiling. Maybe Kate was right and Jake’s proposal could solve her money problems. Maybe it
was
a sign. She pondered the possibility for a few minutes and then shook her head. She didn’t believe in signs
or
happy endings. She hadn’t since the night her parents died. That night, she’d become a hardcore realist. But two years ago, she’d met Jake at Kate and Sam’s wedding and their instant attraction had fueled dreams she hadn’t allowed herself since she was a young girl. Unfortunately, the dreams died when Jake dumped her, claiming they were too different to make it work.

He’d been right about that. They were different. His family was loaded; she’d been raised solidly middle class. He rolled out of bed looking like a Greek god. It took her an hour plus twenty different beauty products just to make herself barely presentable. He chewed women like her up and spit them out on a fairly routine basis. She was an idiot when it came to men and had been far too naïve to understand she meant nothing to him until it was too late.

But he’d taught her an important lesson. Going forward, her dreams would be firmly rooted in reality. When she married, she’d choose a nice, safe, reliable, normal guy. Not some over-the-top, unattainable commitment-phobic freak like Jake. Now, she knew better.

Kate couldn’t be more wrong. Jake’s proposal was a bad idea. Besides, listening to Kate is what had gotten her snowbound in the first place. No. She’d stick with her original plan and develop her own way out of this mess; a way that didn’t rely on Jake Lowell. Her approach might take longer, but at least she wouldn’t get burned.

Chapter Four

manda swung her legs over the side of the bed and hopped down. She shoved her feet into her slippers and padded to the window, pulling aside the white chintz curtains so she could peer outside.

It wasn’t snowing as hard. At this rate, they might be able to leave later that day. Hope stirred at the thought. But for now, she had her plan for the day. She was going to head downstairs, grab a cup of coffee and her tote bag and haul it back upstairs. The overcast, snowy weather offered the perfect excuse to lie around and craft her plan of action and doing so would be a great way to avoid Jake.

She slipped on sweatpants and a white V-neck sweater and plodded into the bathroom where she splashed cold water on her face and brushed her teeth. Then she pulled her thick brunette hair into a ponytail and headed for the stairs.

When she got to the top, the sound of Jake’s off tune whistle stopped her in her tracks. She had loved his whistling when they were together. It had given her an odd sense of comfort.

Amanda gave herself a mental pep talk.
You can do this. Tune him out.
Still, as she started down the stairs, her pulse raced and a confusing mixture of excitement and dread percolated inside.
The man is the devil. Keep your distance.

The cabin lights flickered. She stopped and gazed about in bewilderment as the lights flickered three more times. Then, they shut off completely. She clutched the stair rail and called down, “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” Jake called back. “I’ll check the circuit box, but since they all went out at the same time, I doubt the breakers are the issue.”

Grasping the rail for dear life, Amanda descended the rest of the way with care. Once her feet were on solid ground, she padded into the utility room and peered over Jake’s shoulder while he flipped switches and muttered a few choice words.

“Like I thought; the electricity went out.” He swore under his breath as he shut the door on the circuit box. Then he strode into the kitchen, where he opened and closed cupboards until he located a stockpile of candles and matches. In a nearby drawer, he found a stash of flashlights and some batteries. He piled the loot on the kitchen counter and strode toward the foyer.

Amanda traipsed after him and chewed a fingernail as she watched him pull on hiking boots. “Where are you going?”

“To the garage,” he said. “Hopefully, Sam keeps a gas-powered generator out there. Damned electrical heating,” he said as he yanked his boot lace tight. “If the power stays off, we’ll need a way to keep this place warm. I’m not sure the fireplace alone will do it, but it may be all we have.” He slipped on his coat and gloves. “I’m also going to haul more wood up to the porch. The pile out front looks a little low.”

“I’ll help.” Amanda spun around and trotted upstairs to change. Jake’s shout of laughter caused her steps to slow. She turned and tilted her head. “What’s so funny?”

His lips twitched, but he made an obvious effort to keep a straight face as he said, “I’ll handle it. You stay inside.”

“What.” She arched a brow. “You don’t think I can carry wood?”

His smirk said it all.

“I work out, you know.” She balled her fist and flexed a bicep, displaying the small round bump she’d worked so hard to acquire the past few months. “I even hired a trainer for a while.” Before Rob’s antics had brought her to her financial knees, that is. The trainer was long gone.

“Impressive,” he said, eyeing her bicep in a way that clearly conveyed it was anything but.

She put a hand on her hip. “You really think I’m a high maintenance cream puff, don’t you?”

Jake’s broad grin softened his strong, aquiline features and caused the corners of his eyes to crinkle. He flipped up the collar of his coat and winked as he drawled, “If the stiletto fits . . .”

* * *

High maintenance cream puff. He couldn’t have said it better himself. She sure was a cute cream puff, though. But right now, he had other, more pressing matters to contend with.

He pushed Amanda from his thoughts and lowered his head to block the wind. The snow had blown into drifts higher than his knees in some places and looked even deeper in front of the garage. He had to give the barn-style garage door a few good yanks, but finally got it open. Then he walked inside and tore the place apart in his search for a generator.

Ten minutes later, he accepted defeat. No generator. Nice going, Sam.

Jake strode outside, vowing to have a few choice words with his ill-prepared friend. Sam should know better than to buy a place in the middle of nowhere with all electric heating and no generator on hand. Now, their only source of warmth was the fireplace and since the wood pile looked low, he needed to haul up several armfuls to get them through the next day.

As he turned toward the side yard, Amanda came up beside him.

“What are you doing out here,” he shouted above the wind and pointed to the house. “Go inside.”

“I came to show you a woman can carry wood,” she shouted back. Her blue eyes flashed and her dark hair blew around her face like a storm cloud.

His eyes studied her rosy cheeks and flashing blue eyes and he felt a sudden urge to lean down and kiss the tip of her pert little nose. But he forced himself to look away as he said, “I’m not going to fight with you. Go back inside.”

“Don’t talk to me like I’m a child.”

He’d never thought of her as a child, but with her lower lip pushed out in that way, she did have a major little-girl pout going at the moment. He supposed he shouldn’t point that out, so instead he said, “Then stop acting like one.”

Jake turned toward the wood pile and tried to remember if she’d always been this difficult.

He had barely taken a step when he felt a sharp thud in the middle of his back. Snowballs. Really? He rolled his eyes and turned to confront her, but before he could speak, a wet icy ball smashed in his face. “What the hell?” He wiped globs of snow from his face and shook his gloved hands to flick it off.

“Consider it payback for your chauvinistic views.”

“A chauvinist?” Given a choice of unsavory shingles, he preferred being called an ass. At least he could agree that one fit on occasion.

“Just because I’m a woman, you think I can’t carry wood?”

“A lot of women can carry wood. I just can’t see
you
doing it.”

“Why?”

He eyed her boots and arched a brow as he said, “Heels in a snowstorm. Seriously?”

She glanced down and cocked her foot to the side. “They’re kitten heels. Only two inches.”

Kitten
heels. He shook his head. No need to say anything more.

She squatted to gather more snow. “I didn’t pack for frolicking outdoors, but I’m improvising.”

He frowned and watched her pack another snowball. Did she really think he’d let her lob another one at him without retaliation?

She reared back her arm. “Heels or not, I still throw a mean snowball.” She took careful aim and then threw it with all her might, emitting a delicate grunt as it left her hand.

Jake dodged it and decided retaliation couldn’t wait another minute. He launched himself toward her, taking care to adjust his weight so he wouldn’t hit her straight-on. He didn’t want to hurt her; merely to teach her a lesson.

Amanda’s blue eyes grew ever rounder as his two hundred ten pound frame flew toward her. He grasped her around the waist and she screamed as they collapsed together. The blanket of snow buffered their fall and Jake rolled until he’d pinned her beneath him.

“Now,” he propped himself up on an elbow and gazed down at her. “Say you’re sorry and I’ll let you up.”

She opened her mouth, but instead of the verbal onslaught he’d anticipated, she shoved a handful of snow in his face and then collapsed in a fit of giggles.

Jake grabbed her hands and pinned them above her. She squealed and her eyes grew round as saucers. Then he shook his head and showered her with icy droplets.

Amanda shrieked and scrunched her eyes closed.

“Say you’re sorry,” he commanded again.

Her laughter faded as she opened her eyes. In them, he saw pain—a pain he knew he’d inflicted. He felt a pang of guilt.

“
You
say you’re sorry,” she said, her voice husky as her eyes searched his face.

“What am I sorry for?” He knew what, but pretended not to understand.

“How about an apology for the ‘
it’s not you, it’s me’
lame-o break-up line?” Her blue eyes flashed. “Or maybe you can apologize for your timing, since you dumped me the night before my birthday.”