Spanked by an Angel [Notorious Nephilim 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (3 page)

Zach turned and signaled to their waiter for another round.

“No, really,” said Abigail, placing her fork next to the half-eaten salad, “I don’t plan on getting drunk.”

Zach frowned at her. “No indirect answers to questions and no getting drunk. I thought you said you know how to have fun?”

“What is this? The Grand Inquisition? Do the two of you always tag team your guests like this?”

Emmett glared at Zach. “What my associate means is that we’d love to see you relax and enjoy yourself while you’re here.”

Abigail shook her head slightly. “I apologize. That was rude of me.”

“No, it was rude of Zach.”

Emmett gave Zach a look that left no room for ambiguity, but quickly realized Zach was already past the point of caring. He was determined to put Abigail in her place. Emmett regretted asking him to come to dinner, but there was nothing he could now except try to control the situation. He’d been in this spot before. In the morning, he’d let Zach have it again, knowing it wouldn’t change anything.

“I’m not rude,” said Zach, “just direct.” He raised his glass. A half smile settled over his face as he regarded Abigail.

Time for damage control. “What took you so far from home for college?” asked Emmett.

“Is four hours away far?” she asked.

“I suppose that would depend on how much of a homebody you are.”

“Or on how much Mommy and Daddy wanted to control what you did while there,” said Zach, his words dangerously close to slurred.

“My parents allow me to make my own decisions,” she said in a voice as frosty as the winter wonderland outside the window behind her.

“Is that why you work for Daddy?”

“Zach, that’s enough.” Emmett believed in a united front when it came to Zach and the others, but his friend was on the cusp of crossing a line. He wasn’t about to sit here and simply watch it happen.

“Does it really matter who I work for as long as the bill is paid when I leave?” she asked, her dark eyes flashing with anger.

“You think this is about your money?” Zach’s voice was soft, but Emmett knew that tone.

“Why are you so angry with me?” she asked, lowering her voice and leaning closer. At least they were both conscious of their surroundings. Usually when Zach laid into someone, the entire dining room heard it.

“I’m not angry. I’m drunk.”

When their food arrived, Emmett watched Abigail pick at hers, wishing he could think of the perfect thing to say. He was afraid that any conversation he’d try to engage her in would end up with Zach insulting her.

“This is really good tonight,” he finally said, hoping the taste of the food was neutral-enough territory for Zach.

“Yes, it is,” she said.

“Then why aren’t you eating it?” asked Zach.

Abigail slammed down her fork and glared at him. Her hands visibly trembled. “I’m afraid I’m not very hungry. Please excuse me.”

Abigail paced her sitting room, tears streaming down her face. Why the hell had she come here? And why hadn’t her so-called friend warned her about Zach? She’d mentioned two other men, whose names Abigail couldn’t remember, but had said nothing about either Zach or Emmett.

What the hell was Zach’s problem, anyway? She was a paying customer. How dare he treat her like that? And more importantly, why hadn’t she done anything about it? That was her typical response to someone backing her into a corner. She’d cut and run, then cry about it and come up with perfect retorts for the next several hours.

Un-fucking-believable! She was almost thirty years old, and she’d never learned to stand up to anyone. Certainly not her father or her husband, and now she’d let some drunken asshole chase her away from a delicious dinner.

A knock on the door caused her to jump. She almost didn’t answer it, but decided that would be childish. Her heart raced as she wiped her face and opened the door, leaving the safety latch intact. No way was she letting Zach into her room.

“I’m so sorry about Zach.”

When she looked into Emmett’s unusual eyes, her head became woozy. Or maybe that was because she’d barely eaten anything?

“You shouldn’t have to apologize for him.”

“May I come in? I’ll have more food sent up so you can finish your dinner.”

A dozen reasons why she should let him in flitted through Abigail’s mind, but she pushed them away. She needed time to think. Coming here had been a mistake. It was too soon after the divorce, and she wasn’t ready for two weeks of no-strings-attached sex. Hell, she’d never been ready for that. What had possessed her to believe she could let loose and enjoy this place?

“I’m really not hungry, just tired. It’s been a long day.”

Disappointment flooded his features, along with a profound sadness that almost made Abigail change her mind. Casual mind-blowing sex with a handsome stranger might be exactly what she needed to forget about Zach and the anger his words had caused. Then again, maybe that performance downstairs had been part of the act? She’d caught the longing looks from some of the female guests as they glanced at Zach and Emmett.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

His question hung in the air, every nuance and implication crystal clear, as if he’d spoken a dozen sentences instead of only one. The more she stared into those ice-blue eyes, the more she felt her resolve slipping, but this couldn’t be solved with sex. That had been one of the many problems with Malcolm. He thought sex was the answer to everything.

She blinked and averted her gaze. “Good night, Emmett. Thanks for coming up to check on me. It was very considerate of you.”

“Call the front desk if you change your mind. They’ll know how to reach me. Will I see you at breakfast?”

She nodded and closed the door. As she listened to his soft footfalls fade, Abigail stared at the door half expecting him to return. She swore she could feel the heat from his body still warming the air next to her. His scent lingered in the air as if her room had been infused with it.

Abigail brushed her teeth and climbed into bed. She’d leave in the morning. This wasn’t for her.

* * * *

When she awoke, Abigail thought it was morning already, but one glance at the alarm clock told her it wasn’t even midnight. She rolled out of bed and stretched, used the bathroom, then went out into the sitting room. They certainly had put her in a quiet room. She couldn’t hear anything in the hallways or outside. The feeling of isolation was peaceful until Zach’s words at dinner came back as forcefully as a slap in the face.

Crossing the room, she looked out over the frozen landscape. Directly below were what appeared to be horse stables. Two men were hooking up a team of horses to a sleigh as several guests stood stomping their boots and shivering in the cold while they waited. In the distance, the lights from the trails flickered through the fir trees. What a romantic setting. Too bad she wouldn’t be part of it.

A man who reminded her of Zach walked up to the men and stood close. He had the same build and slightly wavy hair. The water vapor puffs in front of his face told her he was speaking, but she couldn’t hear his words. As one of the animals started to neigh and prance, the man put his hand on the horse’s snout and leaned close to the animal’s ear. To Abigail’s astonishment, the horse immediately calmed down.

When the guests climbed aboard the sleigh, one of the women said something to him, and as he turned his face toward the light, Abigail was shocked to discover that it was Zach. He shook his head, said something to the men, then turned and walked toward the building.

How odd. He calmed horses with a whisper, yet had treated her like dirt beneath his shoe. Why should she let him get away with it? She was wide-awake, and he obviously was as well. Why wait until morning to give him a piece of her mind?

She tossed on her clothes and boots, grabbed her coat, scarf, and gloves, and went down to the lobby. No one was at the front desk, so she wandered around, reading the signs. Access to the stables was through a heated breezeway. If Zach wasn’t there, she’d ask the men who’d hitched up the horses how to find him.

Abigail caught the scent of baked apples and cinnamon, causing her stomach to rumble. When she stepped inside the stables, she hugged her elbows. Heat lamps were scattered along the floor, but the temperature still had to be below freezing. A couple of horses whinnied at her presence, and one stuck its muzzle over the stall door as she walked past. She stopped to stroke his forehead, when Zach rounded a corner.

The smell of baked apples grew stronger, and Abigail realized it had to be coming from him. What was with the owners here? Did they all smell like something delicious and mouthwatering? She’d obviously been too distracted to notice his scent at dinner.

His pewter eyes regarded her with surprise. Snow dotted his wavy hair, and his cheeks were ruddy, as though he’d been outside for some time. “Abigail. Are you signed up for a sleigh ride?”

She shook her head, struggling to remember all the things she’d planned to say to him. Her breath came in short gasps as they stood staring at each other. What was wrong with her? She had nothing to fear from this man.

“Taking a walk then?” His speech was no longer slurred and his tone pleasant, not sarcastic or insolent, as it had been earlier. She started to wonder if she’d hallucinated the entire conversation at dinner.

“I came to find you.” Squaring her shoulders, she held his gaze. “I have a few things to say to you.”

He strolled next to her and patted the horse. “He’s beautiful, isn’t he? Name is Antares. We’ve named them all after stars.”

Abigail was stunned into silence. A few hours ago, this man had been drunk and incredibly rude. Now he stood here, smelling good enough to eat, talking about horses and stars. Had she stepped into
The Twilight Zone
?

When he fixed her with an intense gaze, her heart skipped a beat. “Will you take a ride with me? We can talk in the sleigh.”

What game did he think he was playing? “We can talk right here.”

“I’d love to show you the trails. They wind through the pines, and we’ve lit them with torches to keep them warmer.”

“I don’t understand you at all, Zach.”

His gaze dropped to the floor for a moment, then regarded her again with a mixture of sadness and regret. His eyes were the most unusual shade of gray she’d ever seen, and had almost an iridescent quality to them. She blinked to keep from staring.

“Come on. Let’s hitch up Antares. He hasn’t been out in a few days, and I think he’s itching to take a walk in the snow.”

As if the horse were a coconspirator, he whinnied and began to prance. Abigail watched Zach put the bridle on Antares, then followed him outside where several men waited to help him hitch the horse to a sleigh. What was it about this man? Why didn’t she simply insist they talk in the stable? It was freezing cold out here.

As he took her hand to help her into the sleigh, an electric jolt shot through her body, despite the fact they both wore gloves. Soon her arm was infused with warmth that spread all the way down to her toes. What the hell?

He climbed in next to her and grabbed the reins as she took a deep breath, trying to shake off the power this man seemed to cast over her. If she didn’t get this out now, she never would. It was time to stand up for herself.

“You were incredibly rude at dinner. I’m a paying customer.”

“I agree.”

“What?” She turned to face him, expecting to see mockery on his face, but his gaze was fixed on the trail ahead of them.

“I said I agree with you. I was rude. You’re a guest and should be treated with respect. I hope you’ll forgive me.”

Well, that certainly took the wind from her sails. Now what? “Why did you speak to me that way?”

“Because when I get drunk, I can’t control my tongue.” He sighed, glanced sideways with what could almost be called a grin, then turned his attention back to the trail.

“Then perhaps you should refrain from drinking alcohol?”

He chuckled softly. “Right again.”

“I sound like I’m lecturing you. Sorry.”

“No, you’re right. I shouldn’t touch the stuff.” He gave her another sideways glance, this time filled with curiosity. “My turn for a question. Why did you come on this vacation?”

Abigail was grateful for the dim light, and the fact her sudden flush could be attributed to the cold. “I told you at dinner. Sharon enjoyed it.”

“But that’s not why you came. I want to know what Abigail Emily Cosslin expected from this trip.”

Shit. She’d walked right into this one. If she evaded his question, she’d come across as rude and bitchy. Plus she’d already nailed him for not responding to direct questions, and here she was doing the same thing.

“Sharon’s description sounded intriguing.”

“What specifically intrigued you?”

“I’d rather not say.”
Coward.

She’d expected Zach to keep pushing, but instead he settled back against the leather bench. Abigail would never admit this to him, but it was quite breathtaking out here. The torches cast enough warmth to make the ride comfortable, and the pines sighed and whispered in the soft breeze. Bells jingled softly on the sleigh as they rode. With any other man, this would be incredibly romantic.

Their legs touched as the horse trotted along. There was no room to inch away. Abigail tried not to notice the way his thigh muscles flexed each time he shifted his weight. The smell of apples and cinnamon was stronger now, and she wondered if that was because of the night air. When she realized she no longer felt chilled to the bone, a sudden ripple of alarm sent a shiver through her.

Men didn’t smell like food or have the power to charge the air around them with electricity. They didn’t seduce her with a glance or warm her entire body by their mere presence. Abigail had to admit she hadn’t believed most of the things Sharon had told her about this place. But now that she was here, she had to accept the fact that Sharon might not have been exaggerating.

“Then at least tell me why you were crying at dinner.”