Snowbound Seduction (2 page)

She glanced at the window and shivered. “Too late to leave tonight, I guess.”

He cocked his head and studied her for a second. There was something beneath the tough exterior that pulled at him. She showed it rarely, and definitely not to him, but he knew it was there. He would glimpse it every now and then—plus Mick had always treated her like she was made of glass.

“Yeah. By the time Harold gets to the bottom of the mountain to answer our call, it’ll be dark.”

She nodded. “I’m sure he has other tenants to kill.”

“What?”

She looked at him then blushed. “Sorry. We drove for so long I thought he might be a serial killer, and he was taking me out to his place to kill me.”

He could only stare at her, trying to discern whether she was lying to him or not. Then he laughed. “He is a little…strange.”

She nodded. “Speaking of corpses, let’s call Mick.”

Chapter Two

“I had no other choice. You both need to work out your issues,” Mick said over the speakerphone.

Trevor gritted his teeth. He loved the man like a brother, but Mick exaggerated on a regular basis. Mick had a bit of a storyteller in him, and Trevor knew for a fact they hadn’t been that bad.

“You had no other choice than to send us to a rundown cabin in a snowy wasteland?”

He thought he heard Lainey snort, but Trevor ignored her. Being in the same room alone with Lainey had his body humming. Knowing they were stuck there together for the night was almost unbearable.

“Really, Mick, you could have sat us both down and talked to us if you wanted to,” she said, as if it made all the sense in the world. In her mind, she probably thought she did. Lainey did everything in a neat and orderly fashion.

A sound of disgust vibrated over the speaker. “I’ve tried that, together and separately. Then, last week you got in an argument that ended up with Trevor wearing whipped cream on top of his head. We were lucky that the reviewer who was there that night didn’t walk in and see it. Can you imagine what would have happened then?”

That
had
been a bad night. He’d started a fight with her about the presentation of a dessert and it escalated into name calling, mostly from him. As executive chef he had a right to do that, although he wasn’t known for fits like that. In his world, temperamental chefs were common. Trevor had always taken pride in the fact that he was known for being rational.

In the last few months, though, he knew he’d lost some of his reputation. That night his behavior had nothing to do with the restaurant. Lainey’s work was always perfect…at times too perfect. No, this had nothing to do with the restaurant. It had more to do with the need he’d felt building inside him each time they were together. It hadn’t been that difficult to deal with at first, but now…well, it was a good thing he could hide his emotions so well.

“Our reservations would fill up,” Trevor said.

He smiled at Lainey but she wasn’t smiling at him. She was frowning. Worse, he had some kind of deep need to see her smile. It was a sickness he’d developed in the last few months. He didn’t like seeing her unhappy about anything, except when they argued. It was the only way he could keep his hands off her. Still, every time he saw her lips turn down he wanted to do something—anything—to get her laugh. It hadn’t been an easy task.

“Listen, just take tonight to work out whatever is under your skin. Then come home. I’ll pay for the return flights, since I’m you’re stuck there until Thursday, right?”

He glanced at Lainey who nodded. There was no way he would last three days with her in the cabin.

“Yeah,” Trevor said. “We are both here until Thursday.”

Lainey stepped closer, and Trevor caught a hint of the sugary sweetness he always associated with her. “We’re not done with you, Mick. You know how I hate being duped.”

There was a hint of pain in her voice that had Trevor wondering at it. It went beyond being tricked; it sounded like she felt betrayed. When Mick spoke, his voice was softer.

“I’m sorry, Elaine. I was at the end of my rope. It’s only been six months, and you two cannot get along. It is causing issues with the staff. Morale is at an all time low.”

She didn’t look any happier with the situation. In fact, she looked so sad he had to fight the need to pull her into his arms. It was another impulse that had almost done him in. Each time it rose up, he had to beat it down with all his self-control. It was embarrassing how often her mood would affect his.

Self-preservation had him saying, “You were losing it before that, old chap. I’m with Lainey on this. You’re in trouble if you think you will not have to answer to us.”

Without waiting for a reply, he turned his phone off, irritated. It had always bothered him that Mick knew Lainey better, knew of her past. While she was a celebrated chef, she kept her personal life so private people who worked with her had no idea who she was beyond the kitchen. He knew she had a life outside of work, and it bothered him more than a little that he didn’t know about it.

“I guess we should figure out dinner.”

She glanced at him then started toward the fridge. “I guess so. I’m famished. I haven’t eaten anything since breakfast.”

“That’s not good,” he said, following her. “You’re already too thin.”

Her spine straightened, but she said nothing as she opened the refrigerator door. He walked up behind her and peeked over her shoulder. “Looks like we’ll have enough to eat for the winter.”

She jumped and looked back at him. Her eyes were wide, and he felt himself drowning. They weren’t a normal, ordinary blue. They were blue-green like the Caribbean, and he always found himself mesmerized by them. There was something almost otherworldly about them. Then she blinked.

“Back off, lover boy,” she said as she let the refrigerator door shut, but he heard the huskiness beneath the surface. The way her voice deepened playing over the vowels. He caught a bit of her scent. She wore no perfume. Instead, the medium she loved to work with seemed to linger on her skin. Vanilla and brown sugar. He licked his lips. Months of depriving himself, of keeping himself in check for the good of the restaurant, slipped away as arousal surged ahead.

“Trevor?”

“Why don’t you call me Trev? Everyone else does.”

She shrugged and took a step back and hit the fridge. He knew it was wrong, but he took advantage of the situation. He slid closer and set his hand on the door beside her head. Her lips parted, and all he could think was he wanted a taste.

“We work together.”

“What?” he asked, staring at her mouth. She had an amazing mouth. It was full, so full most people would think she had some kind of procedure to make it that way, but he knew it was all Lainey. Every time they were together, he couldn’t think of anything other than stealing a kiss. At least, when she wasn’t yelling at him. Right now, he watched as her tongue darted out over that full bottom lip, and he felt his heart kick up a notch. Heat flooded his system.

“I call you Trevor because we work together. We aren’t pals.”

He inched closer, enjoying the way she shivered. “But I want to be a pal.”

She visibly swallowed. “That’s not a good idea.”

“Why?”

She shivered again. “Uh…”

“Exactly.”

Then he did the one thing he’d been dreaming of for months and brushed his mouth over hers. At first she didn’t respond. She stood frozen, as if she were an ice sculpture. Worry shimmered in the back of his mind the longer she didn’t respond. About the time he was sure he’d read her wrong, she moaned and parted her lips for him. He immediately stole inside and lost himself.

She was a decadent treat, the most forbidden of indulgences. He had wondered about her passion. Every chef had it, and when she responded to him, he discovered hers. Heat danced through his blood; his desire soared. Trevor barely noticed when she slipped her arms up over his shoulders. By the time he pulled back, they were both breathing heavily. She lifted her hand and traced her swollen lips with shaking fingers. His body still buzzed with arousal, his fingers itching to touch. The stunned look on her face told him she was as affected as he was.

Reality crashed down on him. He had attacked her as if he had no self-control. She didn’t just look shocked; she looked shattered. He didn’t know what to say. He knew his mother had raised him better than to jump a woman like he did. And because of his British upbringing, he could only do one thing.

“I’m terribly sorry. I apologize,” he said.

If anything, her face lost even more color. “Just…stay away from me.”

Her voice was shaky, as if she had been handed the worst news possible. She said nothing else, just slipped past him and practically ran out of the room. He watched until she disappeared into the other bedroom, shutting the door with a
snick
.

Damn, he didn’t know what had gotten into him. He’d stepped over a line he never crossed. Work and sex didn’t mix, especially with a partner who despised him. The look of disgust on her face had been enough to tell him what she thought of him.

He set his hands on the counter and closed his eyes. His body was still reacting to the simple kiss. Heat sung through his blood, his hands still shook, and he was in desperate need of a cold shower. This was why he nitpicked, complained, and made her life a living hell. He didn’t think much of himself for doing it, but it helped him keep his distance. Mick had sent him up there to make things right. Instead, Trevor had practically jumped her bones.

Brilliant, Trev
.

He sighed. There wasn’t much he could do to make it up to her, but he knew there was one thing. Brushing away the regret he felt, and trying to ignore the lust coursing through him at the moment, he rolled up the sleeves of his sweater and got to work.

…

Elaine splashed her face with more cold water and ignored the fact that it already felt frozen. Still, she couldn’t stop the one thing that had been plaguing her since she ran away from Trevor. Nothing, no matter how cold, would wash away the memory of that kiss.

She grabbed a towel and looked at herself in the mirror. Her face was still flush and her eyes were slightly dilated. She knew if she held her hands out they would be shaking. The man had aroused her more with a kiss than any man had. Heck, she was more aroused by the thought of kissing him than sex with other men.

She sighed. It had been wonderful, thrilling, amazing. Of course, this was Trev Macmillan, who had a world-class reputation as a seducer. His list of conquests was long and riddled with models, royals, and actresses. He didn’t seem to have a problem getting a woman into his bed. More than likely he had just used the kiss to shut her up. She’d lost herself in the taste of his mouth, the way his tongue slid over hers…and then he had apologized. Stammered it even. It was as if he’d forgotten she was someone he didn’t like. And in that one instant, she had been ready to jump, to ignore her better instincts and throw all caution to the wind.

“Then he came to his senses,” she whispered.

Elaine blinked, trying to ignore the tears that were burning the backs of her eyes. Dammit, she would not cry. She would not let the jackass get to her. Elaine knew she wasn’t a woman most men went for. It had been proven time and time again in her relationships. Of course, she had always comforted herself with the thought that they were intimidated by her. But with Trevor she knew that wasn’t the case. He just didn’t like her.

It had started the first day they met. Mick had taken her up to Trevor’s apartment in New York. Mick had used his key to the apartment, and they had walked in on Trevor cooking nude…along with his lover. The woman had been irritated they interrupted them, but Trevor just laughed. His tone told her all she needed to know—he disrespected women. Or…that’s what she had thought. But looking back on the months since they’d opened, she had seen him more than once show respect to the women who worked for him. He might tease and flirt, but it was all very sweet. There had not been one complaint. The only person he didn’t seem to like was her.

She hung the towel back up on the bar then walked out of the bathroom. She knew she had the smaller of the two rooms, but that suited her. Big spaces weren’t something she liked when she was by herself. Trevor was a man who needed it. She figured with his aristocratic roots he was used to the grand things in life. The daughter of an alcoholic, who happily put her in foster care before Elaine turned two, didn’t expect grand.

She pushed that thought aside. Her background, her mother and lack of a father, had nothing to do with her now. She had to deal with the sexy man downstairs. She’d been hiding in her room for about thirty minutes, trying her best not panic. It was only one night and she could deal with it. Besides, she was hungry so she figured she would have to face him sometime.

Straightening her shoulders, she opened the door and stepped out onto the landing. The smell of garlic and onions grew stronger. He was cooking, of course. He was a lot like her in many ways. When they couldn’t deal with the situation, they cooked.

The air was tinged with the smell of boiling noodles, and she sighed. He was cooking pasta, her favorite. If it was a noodle, she loved it, and more than likely he knew that. It was the only thing she ever ate of his. Trevor was a pain, but he was perceptive when it came to food.

She watched him and smiled. It was hard not to appreciate the man when he worked. There was something so sensual in his mannerisms when he stood in a kitchen. The steam from the boiling water filled the air, and he had a look of a mad scientist. He was a master there, and she had often wondered what he was like in the bedroom. Elaine shivered. There was a good chance the man was a master there, too. She couldn’t imagine having all that concentration settled on her. It would be overwhelming.

“If you don’t come down here soon, I’m going to eat this all myself.”

It bothered her that he could sense her thoughts, her movements. Before she ever said something, he knew she was there. It was like he was in tune with her in some way, and that she did not like. It was the opposite for her. She never knew what to expect of him. It put her at a disadvantage and she hated that.

She said nothing as she walked down the stairs. When she reached the kitchen, he glanced over his shoulder at her then back to his work.

“I haven’t looked for bowls yet.”

Not a word, just back to being professionals who owned a restaurant. So that was the way he wanted to play it. She could handle that. She actually did better when ignoring those messy emotions.

“Okay.” She used the task to have something to do. She found good stoneware pasta bowls in the second cabinet, grabbed some silverware, and took them to the table. There was a bottle of wine opened, and two glasses.

She noted the label and her eyebrows rose. It was pricey.

He set a bowl of linguine in the middle.

“I thought we deserved to nick something expensive for the situation Mick put us in.”