On a Snowy Night: The Christmas Basket\The Snow Bride (24 page)

“It's a secret?”

“Not exactly, but it's private.” He wished he knew how to turn the conversation in a different direction, but verbal maneuvers had never been his forte.

Jenna's voice rose with enthusiasm. “Now I'm fascinated.”

“Tell me something about you first.”

“Me? No fair. We're discussing you.”

“Tell me a secret. Something few people know about you.”

“I don't have any secrets,” she insisted.

“You do. Everyone has secrets.”

“All right.” She sighed, and Reid could see she wasn't happy about this. “I bit my nails until I was sixteen.”

“Now
that's
shocking.”

She slapped playfully at him and managed to graze his elbow.

Reid chuckled. “You really are an innocent, aren't you?”

“It's men,” she said, speaking in a whisper. “I don't have what it takes to attract them.”

“How do you mean?”

“Oh, I don't know. Look at me—I'm thirty-one and the only successful relationship I've ever had was over the Internet. I think there must be something seriously wrong with me.”

Oh, boy. Reid was stumbling into territory he had no desire to explore. It did explain why she'd sought out Dalton Gray, though. She was getting desperate and afraid, and a man, especially one she'd met online, must have seemed safe. Little did she know she was about to tangle with a tundra rat.

“I'm like everyone else. I want a husband and family but I just don't know how to attract a man.”

“And that's why you're in Alaska.”

She didn't confirm or deny the statement. The words fell between them, and then she seemed to gather herself emotionally, reminding him it was his turn. “What's
your
deep, dark secret?”

Reid wasn't ready to drop the matter. “Why, Jenna? I don't understand it. You're a beautiful, desirable woman.” It probably wasn't good manners to admit that, especially while they were sitting in the dark, both of them a little tipsy.

“I'd rather not discuss me anymore, okay?”

That was a problem, because Reid wasn't eager to drag his private life into the open, either. “I need another drink.”

“Me, too,” she said. As he got up to refill their glasses,
she added, “Don't think you're going to escape from telling me your secret.”

He returned a couple of minutes later and they sat beside each other on the sofa, so close their shoulders touched.

“Does it have to do with being spurned by a woman?” she asked in a low voice. “Or did you commit a crime? Or—”

His nervousness made him laugh. “Not exactly. Okay, here's my secret. You asked me what I do with my free time. Well, I draw. I'm—”

“What?” she demanded, outraged.

“I said I like to draw. Especially landscapes. I—”

“You mean to say being an
artist
is your deep, dark secret?” She set aside her drink and got to her feet. “I should've known you'd pull something like this. I spill my guts, tell you how hopeless I am with men and you—you tell me you like to draw.”

Reid stood, too. “Well, I'm sorry, but that really is my biggest secret.”

“You're making fun of me.”

He caught her by the shoulders. “I'm not. I swear I'm not. I've had a knack since I was a kid, but I never did anything with it and now…I guess I'm not ready to tell anyone because I'm not sure I'm any good, beyond having a…superficial facility, I suppose you could say.” He shrugged. “I'm not ready to have my work judged.”

He ran his hands over the curve of her shoulders. With all his heart he wanted her to understand he wasn't teasing her. “I draw, Jenna, and that's the honest-to-God truth.”

“This is baring your soul?”

“I've never told anyone about it before.” He'd fumbled this whole conversation.

“No one else in Snowbound knows? Not even your sister?”

“No one.”

“Oh.” Her response was the merest whisper.

His fingers relaxed against her shoulders. She felt so small and soft and utterly feminine. His pulse started to react to her nearness—the first sign he was in trouble—but he didn't break away from her. He knew he should drop his hands and back off before he did something they'd both regret. Instead he drew her closer. He refused to listen to common sense, which was ordering him to stop. Ignoring all caution, Reid lowered his mouth to hers.

Jenna leaned into him. A tiny sound came from her just before their lips touched, but for the life of him Reid didn't know if it was a sigh of welcome or a groan of protest. Either way, she was in his arms and she seemed willing enough to be there. He fully intended to follow through with this.

The instant their mouths connected, Reid swore he felt something explode inside him. Jenna must have felt it, too, because the next thing he knew, they were both sitting on the sofa again, their arms locked around each other. His fingers were in her hair, and hers were tugging at his shirt collar. It took him far longer than he wanted to collect his wits and move away.

Breathing hard, Jenna hung her head.

Reid was having a difficult time recovering his own breath. He thought she might want an apology, but it simply wasn't in him to find any regret.

“That shouldn't have happened,” she said sternly.

Unable to speak, he simply nodded.

“That kind of…physical contact is asking for trouble.”

“Right.” Thankfully one of them was smart enough to recognize that. “Do you want me to apologize?” he asked warily.

She thought about it, then shook her head. “I was as much at fault as you.”

Reid reached for his drink. He needed it, even more than
he had the first one. As he'd told her, she'd taken ten years off his life, frightening him the way she had, and now he'd easily subtracted another ten by kissing her. If he spent much more time with Jenna Campbell, he'd be dead inside a week.

“I think the best thing I can do is go back to the bedroom. In the morning we'll both forget about this…indiscretion. Agreed?”

“Agreed.” He was grateful, too, although he didn't say so.

She stood. “Um…I probably shouldn't tell you this—and my experience is pretty limited—but you're a very good kisser.”

Reid didn't know if it would be proper etiquette to thank her, so again he said nothing.

She rubbed her finger across her upper lip and he realized his beard had probably grazed her tender skin. “I didn't hurt you, did I?”

“No, your mustache tickled me. That's all.”

“Sorry.”

“Good night, Reid.”

“Good night. The storm probably won't be so bad in the morning and you can make that phone call to your mother.”

“I'd appreciate it.”

Just before she went into the bedroom, she stopped. “Is your artwork at the pump station?”

“Some of it.”

“Would you mind showing me your pictures?”

He hesitated, then figured he might as well. “Sure.”

“Thank you.”

“I'll talk to you in the morning.” He waited until she disappeared into the darkness of the bedroom before he lay down on the sofa. This time when he closed his eyes all he could see, feel and taste was Jenna.

J
enna woke at first light and memory came flooding back. Not only had she revealed her deepest fears to Reid Jamison, she'd welcomed his kisses. Even more damning, she'd
enjoyed
them. She'd read about people in instances such as this—instances in which captives fell in love with their captors. It was called the Stockholm syndrome. Except that Reid appeared to be as regretful over these unfortunate circumstances as she was.

She could hear him moving about the cabin and the smell of freshly brewed coffee wafted in from the other room. Jenna hurriedly dressed and combed her hair.

“Good morning,” she said, entering the small kitchen.

“Morning.” He kept his back to her. “Would you like a cup of coffee?”

“Please.” Something wasn't right. Reid seemed to make a point of not facing her. “Reid?”

He turned then and she saw that he'd shaved off his
beard. “When did you do that?” she asked, although the real question was
why
. He was the one who'd stressed the importance of a beard for an Alaskan male.

“This morning,” he barked.

“There's no need to snap at me.” He was in a horrible mood, and she'd done nothing more than walk from one room to the next. “Why'd you do it?”

“Hell if I know. And it wasn't for you, if that's what you're thinking.” He slapped a mug of coffee down on the table, half of it sloshing over the sides.

“Did someone get up on the wrong side of the bed this morning?” she asked in a singsong voice.

“I didn't sleep in a bed, as I might remind you.”

“And why is that?” she asked sweetly. “Could it be because you offered your one and only bed to your kidnap victim?”

He scowled at her. “The storm's still raging, but we'll head out anyway.”

“Can I drink my coffee first?”

“Fine,” he said gruffly, stomping out of the room. He reached for his coat and shoved his arms into the sleeves. It took him another five minutes to lace up his boots and add the extra protective gear. “I'll be back in a few minutes. Be ready to go when I return.”

“Yes, sir.” She saluted him smartly.

He paused to glare at her. “Don't get cute with me, Jenna. I'm not in the mood for it.”

“Now, just one minute.” Jenna had endured enough of his temper tantrum. “I don't know what's wrong with you this morning, but I suggest you get over it. If anyone has the right to be annoyed, it's me. I'm not holding
you
hostage.”

“You're not a hostage! Trust me, if I knew how to get you safely out of here, I'd do it.”

“And I'd go, partying all the way.”

He snorted loudly and threw open the door.

A blast of cold air enveloped her, sending a chill up her spine and spraying the room with fresh snow. Snuggling under her blankets, all warm in bed, she'd fantasized about Reid and their kisses. The charm of those few moments had been a fluke and any lingering pleasure had best be forgotten. He slammed the door, which only seemed to emphasize her decision.

Between tentative sips of hot coffee, she hurriedly dressed in her warmest clothes before Reid had any reason to change his mind about that phone call. No sooner was she finished than he came back into the cabin.

“You ready?”

“Ready,” she said, echoing his clipped tone.

Reid hesitated. “Addy and Palmer saw me warming up the snowmobile.” He glanced at her. “It seems Jake and Pete and the two of them plan to come over here for dinner tonight.”

“I hope you don't expect me to do the cooking.”

“No,” he said, disgruntled. “I'll cook, but I wanted you to be aware of what they were planning.”

“All right.” Frankly she'd welcome the company. It would certainly be preferable to another evening trapped inside the cabin with Mr. Personality.

“Addy intends to bring his musical saw and Palmer plays the harmonica—and well, they're probably all going to want to dance with you. I just thought I should give you fair warning.”

“I've been duly and properly warned.”

“Good.” He paused before opening the door. “You'd better take my arm. I know you'd rather not, but for safety reasons you should. Technically it isn't a blizzard anymore, since the wind's down to thirty-one miles an hour, but it's still damn strong.”

She slipped her arm through his and once outside, was grateful she had. Blizzard or not, the snow was thick and
falling fast. The road was barely recognizable and drifts had formed against the sides of the house, stretching up toward the roofline.

“You okay?” Reid asked as they approached the snowmobile.

“I'm fine.”

The pump station seemed to be half a world away. Driving slowly and carefully they made it, but Jenna could feel the tension in Reid. She didn't reveal her own apprehensions.

Inside the station, Reid led her into his office. The man was a constant source of contradictions. His house was an environmental disaster area, but his office couldn't be neater. It didn't stop there, either. He was unreasonable, demanding, bad-tempered and yet he'd kissed her with a gentleness that had practically melted her bones. He barked at her as if he was angry and then risked everything to get her to a phone so she could reassure her mother.

The telephone line was bad. Jenna heard heavy static as she waited anxiously for the number to connect to her mother's cell phone in California. When the first ring came, Jenna relaxed.

“Hello,” the familiar voice said.

“Mom, it's Jenna.”

“Jenna! Hello, honey! I was wondering when I'd hear from you. How's Alaska?”

“It's great, Mom.” No need to worry her, Jenna decided.

“Why didn't you call earlier? Still, I'm glad you called now. I'm having a pedicure and you know how boring it is just to sit here.” Jenna heard a little snuffling sound and realized her mother must be baby-sitting Bam-Bam, her neighbor's Pomeranian. Chloe found this the perfect way to have a pet—the benefits of companionship without the responsibilities of meals, vets or training.

“Well, honey,” she said. “Tell me what's been going on.”

Jenna hardly knew where to start.

“That Dalton friend of yours phoned,” her mother announced before Jenna could tell her anything.

“Dalton called for me?” Her heart pounded crazily.

“He sounded worried.”

“When was that?” Jenna pressed the phone hard against her ear, straining to make out every word.

“Oh, dear,” her mother said, sighing. “I can't remember. You know how bad I am with details like that.”

“Mom, I'm in Snowbound, Alaska. If Dalton phones again, tell him that right away.” She glared at Reid, defying him to challenge her. She'd find her own way out of here, since she obviously couldn't depend on him.

“Snowbound, Alaska,” her mother echoed. “Oh, that sounds romantic.”

“Tell me everything Dalton said,” Jenna insisted. He might be her only chance of escape.

“Let me think.” Jenna could hear her mother tapping her fingernail against her teeth. “Well, I don't remember all of it, only that he was in Fairbanks and you weren't. We talked for a few minutes. He's very concerned about you.”

“I'm with a man called Reid Jamison, Mom. If Dalton calls again, you tell him that, all right?” Reid stared at her, but he said nothing.

“Sure, honey. I'll do that. Are you having fun?”

“Yeah, Mom. Lots of fun. I just didn't want you to worry.”

“Worry? Jenna, why would I do that? Well, okay, I was a
little
worried. But you're perfectly capable of taking care of yourself.”

How Jenna wished that was true.

The line faded in and out. “Mom…Mom?”

“I'm here. Oh, before I forget, Brad Fulton's new secretary called asking about you, too.”

“Brad phoned?” Jenna was hardly able to take it all in. “What did he say?” she asked eagerly.

“Not Brad,” her mother said. “His new secretary who, if you don't mind my saying so, isn't worth a hill of beans compared to you. She's the one who phoned.”

“What did Ms. Spencer want?”

“Apparently Mr. Fulton's looking for you.”

“Brad's looking for me?”

“According to Ms. Spencer, he wants you back.”

Jenna bit her lower lip. She had no idea what to think—or say.

“Is there anything you want me to tell him?” her mother asked. “Because I'm sure he'll be contacting me himself.”

“Oh, Mom, I don't know.” Jenna had wasted years being infatuated with her boss. In all that time, Brad hadn't seen her as anything other than an efficient and capable assistant, and she suspected that wasn't going to change now. Brad viewed her the same way he would a comfortable pair of shoes. As soon as he broke in a new pair, he'd forget about her. Besides, Brad was married to his job. He didn't need or want a wife.

The connection started to fade. “Mom?” she shouted. “Mom?”

“I can't hear you. Jenna? Jenna? You're fading out.”

“Mom, I'm here.”

“Oh, good, that's better,” her mother said. “Okay, now what should I tell Dalton if he phones again? Oh, heavens, what was the name of that town?”

“Snowbound.”

“And you're with some other man?”

“Yes, Reid Jamison.”

“My goodness, Jenna, Alaska must be some kind of state. You haven't been there three days, and already you've got two men on the line. Maybe I should come up and check it out myself.”

“Mom…no, don't do that.”

The line went dead. Emotionally drained, Jenna replaced the receiver.

Reid stepped back and crossed his arms over his chest. “Who's Brad?”

Jenna frowned at him. “Although it's none of your business, Mr. Fulton is my former boss.”

He let that information sink in. “Now I know why you hooked up with Dalton,” he muttered.

She raised her eyes to meet his. “Why?”

“You're in love with your boss.”