He Hadn’t Expected A Deal With The Devil To Taste This Good.

God help him, he wanted Sabrina in a way he shouldn’t want a woman. She’d been forced down his throat as part of a business deal, but they had something between them, and while the chemistry might be temporary, it was damned impressive and worth exploring.

She scooted away on the blanket and pressed her fingertips to her mouth. “What was that?”

“Proof” was all he could force out. Her taste lingered on his damp lips, making him ache to tug her down on the blanket and cover her body with his.

Her dazed expression morphed into disbelief. “Proof of what?”

“That you want me. And trust me, Sabrina, the feeling is mutual.”

Dear Reader,

What isn’t romantic about snuggling under a fur blanket with your significant other or making love in front of a roaring fire in Aspen, Colorado? For me, researching my book in the Jarrod continuity set in this Rocky Mountain town became a minivacation. Aspen, with its small-town setting and big-city jet-set lifestyle, is so rich in history, culture and things to do that anyone could find something to do there—even if only vicariously.

I hope you enjoy your ringside seat as Sabrina and Gavin, who’ve been running from their pasts, get together and discover they generate enough heat to melt the snowcaps from the surrounding mountains.

Emilie Rose

EMILIE ROSE

WEDDING HIS TAKEOVER TARGET

Thanks to my friends in PA
for making me feel like family and to the staff at Nash General for taking such good care of my mom.

Books by Emilie Rose

Silhouette Desire

Forbidden Passion #1624

Breathless Passion #1635

Scandalous Passion #1660

Condition of Marriage #1675

[*]Paying the Playboy’s Price #1732

[*]Exposing the Executive’s Secrets #1738

[*]Bending to the Bachelor’s Will #1744

Forbidden Merger #1753

†The Millionaire’s Indecent Proposal #1804

†The Prince’s Ultimate Deception #1810

†The Playboy’s Passionate Pursuit #1817

Secrets of the Tycoon’s Bride #1831

[**]Shattered by the CEO #1871

[**]Bound by the Kincaid Baby #1881

[**]Wed by Deception #1894

Pregnant on the Upper East Side? #1903

Bargained Into Her Boss’s Bed #1934

††More Than a Millionaire #1963

††Bedding the Secret Heiress #1973

††His High-Stakes Holiday Seduction #1980

Executive’s Pregnancy Ultimatum #1994

Wedding His Takeover Target #2048

EMILIE ROSE

Bestselling Silhouette Desire author and RITA® Award finalist Emilie Rose lives in her native North Carolina with her four sons and two adopted mutts. Writing is her third (and hopefully her last) career. She’s managed a medical office and run a home day care, neither of which offers half as much satisfaction as plotting happy endings. Her hobbies include gardening and cooking (especially cheesecake). She’s a rabid country music fan because she can find an entire book in almost any song. She is currently working her way through her own “bucket list,” which includes learning to ride a Harley. Visit her website at www.emilierose.com or email EmilieRoseC@aol.com. Letters can be mailed to P.O. Box 20145, Raleigh, NC 27619.

From the Last Will and Testament of Don Jarrod

…and to my son Gavin I leave my stable of horses. I have such fond memories of you spending hours in the big barn, taking care of all the animals. How many meals did you miss, insisting you had to feed the horses first? It gave me such pride to see you grow into your own, riding “your” horses across the field. How carefree you were. Did you know it broke my heart when you left and didn’t look back? I hope being responsible for the horses once more will help you find your way home.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

One

“You said urgent. Here we are,” Gavin Jarrod said as he preceded his oldest brother Blake into Christian Hanford’s office Monday morning. Not a great way to start the week.

The attorney handling their late father’s estate indicated the chairs in front of his desk and waited until Gavin and Blake sat. “I appreciate your coming in. Unfortunately, the news is not good.”

Gavin shot a what now? look at his brother. “Not surprising since none of the news since our father’s death five months ago has been good, beginning with him requiring each of us to put our lives and careers on hold and spend a year at Jarrod Ridge or we all forfeit our inheritance.”

“This regards your project and the permits needed to build the new bungalow you’ve designed on the resort property.”

Gavin tried not to let his frustration and resentment show. Leave it to their father to try to control their lives from his grave with posthumous demands.

“What’s the holdup? It’s November first. We need to get the foundations dug and poured before the ground freezes solid.”

“You can’t get the permits because the land isn’t part of your father’s estate.”

“What?” Gavin and his brother exclaimed simultaneously.

Blake leaned forward in his chair. “The site is in the middle of Jarrod property. How can the family not own it?”

Christian pulled an aerial map of Jarrod Ridge from the file in front of him and slid it across his desk. He indicated an X on a five-acre tract outlined in red.

“This is where you wanted to build. When we researched the deed we discovered your grandfather transferred ownership of this plot to Henry Caldwell fifty years ago.”

Gavin searched his brain for Caldwells and came up empty. He’d spent the first eighteen years of his life in Aspen, but he had no reason to know any of the locals anymore. He’d escaped the town and his domineering father when he’d left for college a decade ago—he only returned when he absolutely couldn’t avoid it. To say he and his father hadn’t gotten along would be a gross understatement. “Who in the hell is Caldwell?”

“He owns the Snowberry Inn, a bed-and-breakfast here in Aspen that’s been around as long as Jarrod Ridge.”

“Why would our grandfather sell him a defunct mine?” The old mine had been Gavin’s favorite hideout as a kid. He and his brothers had spent countless hours wandering through the tunnels, and in high school Gavin had taken girls there to make out.

“The real question is why would anyone want to buy it?” Blake countered. “There’s not enough silver on the site to make extraction cost-effective.”

“That’s the interesting part. In my digging, I discovered your grandfather didn’t sell the acreage. He wagered it in a poker game. And lost it.”

Surprise pushed the air from Gavin’s lungs. “We’ll buy it back.”

Christian eyed him across the map. “Good luck with that. There are numerous letters in our files indicating that your father tried and failed to repurchase the land more than a dozen times over the years. Caldwell refused to sell.”

Blake sat back in his chair looking more relaxed than he should given the revelation that had just blown their plans to hell and back. “The plans are already drawn for a high-security bungalow for the resort’s A-list guests. The construction crews have been contracted and the materials ordered because we had no reason to expect a glitch like this. We’ll have to choose another site.”

“No,” Gavin insisted. “If I’m condemned to waste another seven months here I’m not giving up on the only place on the estate that holds good memories for me. I’ll convince Caldwell to sell.”

One corner of Blake’s mouth lifted. “You just want to do what Dad couldn’t.”

A smile tugged Gavin’s lips. His brother knew him and his competitive streak too well. Gavin never had been good at passing up a challenge. “I wouldn’t mind besting the old man. He’ll probably roll over in his grave when I succeed.”

“If you succeed,” his brother cautioned.

“I will.” Having older twin brothers who’d often teamed up against him had given Gavin a persistent streak that some called stubborn, but that same trait had taken him to the top of his field.

Blake pulled his wallet from his pocket and flashed a Ben Franklin, then laid it on the desk. Gavin caught a gleam of gold on his brother’s finger. What in the hell was that? It couldn’t be what he thought it was. But first things first. The mine. He’d deal with the new jewelry after they left Christian’s.

“A hundred bucks says you won’t,” Blake challenged. “Dad might have been an uptight pain in the ass, but he was a shrewd businessman. If there was a way to get that land back, he would have found it.”

Gavin shook his head and withdrew a matching bill. “You’re on. If there’s one thing engineering has taught me, it’s that there’s a solution to every problem. It’s a matter of whether you’re willing to pay the price. All I have to do is find Caldwell’s price and that land will be ours.”

“Hey,” Gavin called out before Blake could climb into his car outside Christian’s office. “What in the hell is that thing on your finger?”

Blake smiled, looking as satisfied as if he’d just finished a five-course gourmet dinner. “Samantha and I got married in Vegas.”

Shock popped Gavin in the gut. “I thought you were there for work on your hotel.”

“Not this time. We were there for our wedding and honeymoon. We’re going to tell the family tonight.”

“Are you out of your mind?”

Blake looked him dead in the eye. “Yes. With happiness.”

“Samantha’s been around for years and you never noticed her in that way before. In fact, you always said never mix business with pleasure unless you want pleasure to bite you in the ass.”

Blake’s skin reddened. “What can I say? I was a little slow on the uptake.”

“You did this because you didn’t want to lose her as your assistant, right?”

“Our romance started that way, but it’s more than that now. I love her.”

Gavin laughed. And then he realized Blake wasn’t joking. His brother’s expression was serious and more than a little sappy. “You’re kidding, right?”

“No. Love is the only reason to take that step.”

Not in Gavin’s world. In his world love was something to avoid, like standing in front of moving trains or jumping off a bridge. “You’re saying you love Samantha—the ’til death do you part kind of thing?”

“Yes, I am.”

Blake looked happy instead of miserable. How had that happened? It didn’t matter how, the euphoria wouldn’t last long. His brother was as much of a workaholic as Gavin. Women hated that. And when they’d had enough solitude they packed up and left. “Is she pregnant?”

“Not that I know of, but I wouldn’t mind if she were.”

“Did you get a prenup?”

“I’m not worried about a prenup.”

“Blake, I’ve never known you to be blind or stupid.”

“And I’m not now. In fact, I’m seeing clearly for the first time. Samantha is the only woman I want and I trust her implicitly.”

Poor deluded sucker.

“You’d risk it even knowing how crazy losing Mom made Dad?”

“I’d be just as crazy, maybe more so, if I were too much of a coward to try to make this work.”

“I can’t talk you into an annulment?”

“No.” Blake wore his stubborn, don’t-mess-with-me face. “And I’d suggest you back off. Remember, you like Samantha.”

“As your assistant, yes, she’s damned good at her job, probably the best assistant you’ve ever had. But marriage?” He faked a shudder.

“Yes, marriage. You should try it.”

No way. He and Trevor were the only ones who’d eluded pairing up in the past few months. Good thing he knew he wasn’t susceptible. Otherwise he’d be worried. “I guess all I can do is wish you luck and tell you I’ll be here when you need me.”

“To pick up the pieces? I won’t be needing those services.”

“You hope.”

“I know. Samantha is the one for me. The only one.”

Gavin opened his mouth to continue the argument then swallowed the words. Blake was infatuated and probably brain-dead from getting laid well and often. Gavin wasn’t going to be able to change his mind. The best he could do is hope like hell that when the marriage ended, Samantha wouldn’t take a chunk of Jarrod Ridge with her.

The Snowberry Inn looked as homey as Jarrod Ridge was opulent, Gavin decided as he ran an assessing eye over the large Victorian after circling the block to appraise his opponent’s property. Located in the heart of downtown, the B and B had a homey charm reminiscent of Aspen’s silver mining boom in the 1880s, whereas his family’s resort catered to affluent guests who demanded modern amenities and world-class service.

He pushed open the door of one of The Ridge’s fleet of luxurious black Cadillac SUVs, and the irregular beat of an unskilled carpenter’s hammer striking wood greeted him as he slid from behind the wheel. Glancing up and down the street, he surveyed the area, his breath fogging the chilly autumn air. The location couldn’t be faulted. Guests could easily stroll to the shopping district’s art galleries and designer boutiques or to the upscale restaurants overlooking the Roaring Fork River.

A prime piece of valuable real estate and a relatively large parcel if the barns beyond the main structure were included.

He followed the winding walk through bare Aspen trees and leafy snowberry shrubs with their white fruits glistening in the afternoon sunlight. It seemed like a lifetime ago that he and his brothers had used clusters of the small berries as ammunition for their homemade slingshots whenever they’d stolen a few moments away from their father’s eagle eye.

Though the B and B appeared structurally sound, the clapboards could use a fresh coat of forest-green paint. The butter-yellow railing wobbled slightly in his grip as he climbed the brick steps leading to the front porch. His offer would give Caldwell an influx of cash that would more than cover the cosmetic work.

Rather than ring the bell by the front door Gavin followed the banging sound around the wide covered porch spanning the front and side of the building, hoping to find Caldwell or someone who could direct him to the man. He found a red-coated, hammer-wielding female, kneeling with her back to him. A matching red toboggan capped long, dark curls winding down her back. Definitely not Henry Caldwell.

“Ow. Oh. Dammit,” a feminine voice cried out. The hammer clattered on the floorboards.

“You okay?”

The handywoman shot to her feet and spun around, clutching her left thumb in her right hand. Wide, bright blue eyes found his.

“Who are you?” Pain tightened her voice.

“Gavin Jarrod. Need some help?”

“Are you looking for a room?” She ignored his question.

“No. I’m here to see Henry Caldwell.”

He automatically catalogued her assets. Early- to mid-twenties. Smooth, clear skin. Above average height and probably slender beneath the parka if her long, jeans-clad legs were any indication. In short, beautiful and worth getting to know better.

Then he appraised the problem, a half hammered-in nail, toenailing the railing to the column. Not an easy angle for an amateur. “Let me get that for you.”

He bent and scooped up the hammer—one too heavy for her—and slammed in the nail with one swing. “There you go.”

“Thanks,” she offered grudgingly. Still holding her injured hand close to her body, she accepted the tool he offered with her other.

“Let me look at that.” He grabbed her wrist and inspected her reddened thumb. The unpainted nail plate remained intact with no blood pooling beneath it.

The warmth of her soft skin heated his and did something wacky to his pulse rate. Single? Her ring finger was bare. He dragged his thumb over her palm.

With a quick hiss of her breath, she jerked away.

Too bad. He hadn’t reacted that instantly to a woman’s touch in a long time. “You’ve probably just bruised it. Work gloves would have offered a little protection.”

Her eyes narrowed, drawing his attention to a thick fringe of black lashes that looked real. In fact, if she wore any makeup, it was the kind a straight guy couldn’t see. “I couldn’t hold the nail with gloves on. Is Henry expecting you? He didn’t mention an appointment.”

“I didn’t make one.” He’d wanted to catch the man off guard and perhaps get him to agree to sell on impulse.

“Are you selling something?”

“No. I didn’t catch your name.”

“I didn’t throw it.” She gathered the box of galvanized nails, her discarded gloves and the hammer. “Follow me.”

She headed toward a back entrance and led him into a warm kitchen. The combined scents of pot roast and freshly baked bread made his mouth water and his stomach growl as he followed her down the center hall to the front parlor. “Wait here. May I tell him what this is about?”

“An old poker bet.”

Her dark eyebrows dipped. “He owes you money?”

“No.” And that was all she’d get out of him. No matter how attractive she might be he wasn’t sharing personal business with her—unless it was over dinner.

Her curious gaze slid over him, making him overheat under his ski jacket. “You don’t look like one of his poker buddies.”

“I’m not.”

“Then you are…?”

“Here on personal business.”

She stood straighter, her chin snapping up. “I’ll see if Po—Henry’s available.”

Gavin hadn’t dated since arriving in town, and watching her peel the knit cap off those thick, gleaming curls and then unzip her coat reminded his libido of the long dry spell. He visually tracked her until she turned a corner out of sight.

He’d definitely have to take this one to dinner. And then maybe to bed. His heart pumped faster in approval of the plan.

Unzipping his coat, he surveyed the room. Antiques. But not the kind a man would be afraid to sit on. Lace, velvet and flowery fabrics predominated. But not enough of the girly stuff to threaten his manhood. The inn wasn’t bad. But it definitely wasn’t competition for The Ridge.

“Are you related to the Jarrods of Jarrod Ridge?” she asked from behind him.

He hadn’t heard her return. She’d shed her outerwear, revealing a purple turtleneck sweater clinging to a long, lean torso with curves in all the right places. Nice. And definitely worth pursuing. “Yes.”

Her lips mashed together as if his reply displeased her—drawing attention to the fact that she’d added some gloss to her wide, red mouth. An encouraging sign. If she wasn’t interested she wouldn’t have bothered.

“My grandfather will be with you in a moment.”

His plans sputtered and stalled like a faulty airplane engine. “Your grandfather?”

“Yes.”

The revelation killed any chance he had of taking her on a date or to bed. With his relationship track record, he couldn’t risk souring the sale with another romance wreck. Business came first—especially family business. But perhaps after the deed had been transferred…

He couldn’t imagine going a year without sex, but he’d ended his last relationship two months before his father’s death, and thus far none of the women he’d met at the lodge had tempted him like this one did.

“You’re not from here, are you?” he asked. Not that many people were Aspenites these days between the celebrity invasion and the ski season’s tourist ebb and flow.

“No.” She folded her arms across her chest, looking protective, defiant and delicious. Down, boy.

“I’ve worked all around the globe, but I can’t place your accent.”

“Good.”

Man, she had it in for him for some reason. “Have I done something to offend you, Ms. Caldwell?”

“Taylor.”

He hiked a brow.

“My last name is Taylor.”

He noted she’d ignored his question. Again. Apparently, Ms. Taylor, like him, operated on a need-to-know basis. His gaze flicked briefly back to her bare ring finger. “Married?”

She glanced away, but not so quickly that he didn’t catch a glimpse of pain, and then she checked her watch. “Not anymore. Can I get you something? Coffee? Tea? We usually have high tea at four.”

That would give her an excuse to leave the room, and he wasn’t ready to let her go yet—not until he’d made sense of her cool demeanor. “No thanks. Are you visiting your grandfather?”

“I manage the B and B for him.”

“Been doing that long?”

“A while.”

He almost laughed at her quick, succinct response. He’d never met a woman who made him sift so hard for information, like a miner panning for precious metals. He was used to ones who chattered nonstop. He’d have to employ a different strategy if he wanted to get details out of her.

“I am a local—or I used to be. But I’m only back for…a while.” He mimicked her words.

“Yes, I heard.”

“Did you?”

“Don’t get excited. I wasn’t fishing for information about you Jarrods. In a city with a population of roughly six thousand residents, most of those not full-time, the gossip mill works overtime. Your father’s death and the stipulations of his will are a hot topic. My condolences on his passing.”

He digested the you Jarrods part of her reply. “Thanks, but if the grapevine is working efficiently, then you know there was no love lost between my father and me. I’ll only be here another seven months and then I’m gone.”

“Your loss. Aspen is beautiful.”

He let his gaze wander to her booted feet and then back to her eyes. “Exquisitely beautiful. But not as warm as I’d like.”

She stiffened, obviously receiving the message that he wasn’t discussing the city’s climate. A fresh rush of color flooded her cheeks and her lips parted.

“Yeah, well, you’re old enough to know you can’t always get what you want.”

A clearing throat preempted further discussion. An older gentleman, tall, thin, but bearing military-erect posture and a shock of snow-white hair stood in the entry. Blue eyes the same shade as his granddaughter’s met Gavin’s. “Jarrod, huh?”

“I’m Gavin Jarrod. I’d like to talk to you about—”

Caldwell held up a blue-veined hand. “Sabrina, be an angel and get me some coffee to wash away the cobwebs my nap always leaves behind.”

Not a good start. Gavin fought the urge to check out the brunette’s backside as she left. “I apologize if I woke you, sir.”

Caldwell waved his apology aside. “Fell asleep watching the news channel. Damned depressing babble. All gloom and doom even if it is delivered by hot blondes in short skirts and high heels. Time to get up anyway. Can’t sleep what’s left of my life away. What can I do for you, Gavin Jarrod?”

“I’d like to buy back the property my grandfather lost to you.”

“Should have known one of you would pick up where your father left off. Badgering me seems to be the Jarrod way. At least you had the gumption to pester me face-to-face instead through a damned lawyer. Can’t respect a man who won’t handle his own dirty work.”

Gavin digested the animosity. He’d have to work around it. “As you’ve no doubt discovered, the mine is worthless.”

“Depends on what you consider the valuable part. Ain’t necessarily the minerals.”

Cryptic old coot. “The acreage is in the middle of Jarrod Ridge.”

“And me owning it is like a burr in your butt, ain’t it, boy? Drove your daddy nuts, too.” Mischief fanned crinkles from the old, but sharp eyes.

“My oldest brother and I would like to build a bungalow on the property.”

“Don’t you folks have enough going on up there already? Lodges all over the damned place plus Jarrod Manor.”

“This would be a different caliber accommodation for guests needing more privacy and additional security than the hotel or existing lodges could provide.”

Henry snorted. “Married Hollywood types sneaking off with somebody they oughtn’t to be with.”

Another strike. “We were thinking more along the lines of heads of state.”

“Don’t care if you’re putting up the president. The land’s not for sale.”

Gavin struggled to keep his frustration in check. “What purpose does keeping it serve you, Mr. Caldwell? There’s no road access which means you can’t build on it. You can’t even get to it without obtaining written permission to cross Jarrod property.”

“Y’think so? Son, I’ve been visiting that mine for fifty years—often enough to know you’re one of the young’uns who used to camp down in the shaft.”

Interesting. Until his most recent return Gavin had never seen signs of anyone visiting other than him and his brothers. The entrance was pretty well hidden. “Yessir. All three of my brothers and I did, but I probably spent more time there than the rest of them combined.”

“Cleaned up after yourself, too.”

“Our father forbade us to go there. We didn’t want to leave any tracks.”

“He forbade you because he didn’t own it.”

“A fact he didn’t share with us, and one we’d like to rectify. I’m prepared to offer you—”

“Don’t matter how much you offer. I’m still not selling. Which one are you? The architect, the engineer, the marketing man or the restaurateur?”

Caldwell knew quite a bit about the Jarrods, but considering the family had been a fixture in Aspen for generations, the interest in their lives wasn’t surprising. “I’m a construction engineer. My brother Blake is a developer who commissioned the design for the bungalow we’d like to build. Our offer is more than generous.”

“Don’t care about your money.”

“Your inn could use a little work.”

Caldwell snorted. “I’ll get to it.”

“Opening day for the ski slopes is only a few weeks away.”

“That’s not news.”

Gavin didn’t like bringing personal issues into a business problem because it gave his opponent leverage, but he had no choice. “Mr. Caldwell, as you’ve noted, that mine has sentimental value to me. I spent a lot of my youth there. The site holds some good memories.”

Those intensely blue eyes held his. “For someone who never comes home, you’re sure tied to the place. Could be the mountain’s dug her claws into you. Some folks claim once she gets hold of you, she never lets go.”

The old man’s folktales didn’t change the fact that Gavin intended to get the hell out of Dodge as soon as he’d fulfilled his part of the will. “Our plans will preserve the mine and its historical value. The bungalow will blend into the setting.”

“I’m still not interested in selling.”

“What can I do to change your mind? Would you like to see the blueprints?”

“I don’t care about any blueprints.”

Gavin clenched his teeth so hard he was lucky he didn’t crack a molar. He had to find a way to get through to the man, and at the moment his mind was blank. He pulled the written offer from his pocket and offered it to Caldwell. “Take a look at our price.”

When the man made no move to take the envelope, Gavin laid the package on the coffee table. “Think it over. Thank you for your time.”

He strode toward the entry.

“What’d you think of my Sabrina?” Caldwell called after him.

Gavin stopped and pivoted. “Excuse me?”

“Liked her, didn’t you?”

What was the old man up to? “Your granddaughter is quite attractive.”

Caldwell nodded. “She’s easy on the eyes, that’s for sure. Like her grandma, my Colleen. Shut that door.”

Unsure of where the conversation was headed, Gavin complied. The envelope remained unopened on the table where he’d left it.

“How badly do you want that land?”

That sounded like a loaded question. “I want to see the Jarrod property intact.”

Caldwell scratched his chin. “A deed will earn you the deed.”

What in the hell did that mean? The man seemed lucid, but Gavin wondered if he’d misjudged him. Gavin slowly crossed the rug. “I’m not following.”

“Marry Sabrina and I’ll sell you the land.”

Shock knocked Gavin like a wrecking ball to the chest. Was everybody marriage-crazy today? First Blake, now this. “Marry her?”

“It could work.”

Gavin shook his head. Caldwell had to be senile. But Gavin couldn’t afford to offend him. “I just met Sabrina, sir, and you weren’t in here long enough to notice she’s not exactly impressed with me.”

Caldwell smiled, smirked, really. “She’s interested.”

Gavin’s pulse spiked. “She told you that?”

“Nope. I just know.”

This conversation seemed surreal. What could be so wrong with the woman that her grandfather had to bribe someone to marry her? “Mr. Caldwell, you don’t know me well enough to wish me on your granddaughter.”

“My Colleen was one of those mail-order brides. Didn’t set eyes on her until the week of our wedding. But we had chemistry from the minute we met at the train station. Same as you and Sabrina.”

Gavin didn’t bother to deny the attraction. “I’m glad that worked for you, but frankly, I’m not interested in marriage. My career keeps me on the road. I move from site to site, usually only staying in one place for six months to a year. No woman wants to live like that.”

He’d learned that the hard way.

“The mountains still call you home. Court Sabrina. Marry her. And I’ll sell you that parcel for whatever you’ve written on that paper.”

“You haven’t even looked at the offer.”

“I told you. Money ain’t the issue, son.”

Hell. Ask anything else of him and he’d be all over the deal. But marriage? “I’m sorry, Mr. Caldwell. I’m not your man.”

“Sabrina’s all I have left. And you might have noticed, I’m not a spring chicken. I’m seventy-five, and my health ain’t what it used to be. But that’s between my doctor and me and now you. Sabrina doesn’t need to know. Once I’m gone there won’t be anyone around to look after her since my head-in-the-clouds son and his wife can’t be bothered. I want to see to Sabrina before I’m gone.”

The genuine concern in the tired blue eyes yanked at something in Gavin’s chest. Sap. He’s playing you like a fiddle.

“I’m not the man for the job,” he repeated.

“I think you are. The fact that you turned me down despite the fact that Sabrina could inherit everything I have only reinforces my opinion. I ain’t talked to you more than ten minutes, Gavin Jarrod, but I can already tell you’re twice the man your daddy was. He used the land, stripping away whatever got in his way, without thought for anything more than the profit he could make. You, with the way you took care of one good-for-nothing hole in the ground, proved you’re smarter. You respect the land and nature.”

True. “That’s a broad assumption, Mr. Caldwell.”

“But a valid one. You’ll treat my girl with the same respect.”

Gavin backed toward the door. “The answer’s still no.”

“If you’re thinking you can wait ’til I drop dead and buy the property from Sabrina, think again. If I die before she marries I’ve willed that plot to the National Parks Service.”

Damn. The park system would condemn land to get road access to the mine. Jarrod Ridge would end up losing even more property and have to deal with tourists wandering off the path. Their secluded retreat atmosphere would be shattered.

“If you agree I have one more stipulation. I don’t want our girl knowing anything about our little agreement. Ya hear? You’ll court her like a woman deserves to be courted. She won’t marry ya without loving ya. That much I know.”

In Gavin’s opinion, making a woman fall for him under false pretenses was about as low as a man could get. How could he respect himself if he pulled that kind of crap? Refusal hovered on his tongue.

“Son, if you want that five acres, this is the only way you’re gonna get it. That’s my deal. Take it or leave it.”

Man, this was insane.

A tap on the door preceded Sabrina returning with a laden tray. Gavin’s pulse thudded harder and faster.

Marry her?

There are worse things than being married to a beautiful woman.

This had to be flat-out the craziest scheme he’d ever heard in his life. So why was he still standing here?

If marriage was the only way to get the land back, to succeed where his father had failed and to keep his family from losing even more acreage, what choice did he have? For the good of his family and Jarrod Ridge, he had to accept the deal.

But the marriage would be temporary. Once he returned to his regular job nature would take its course and, aided by his long absences, the relationship would die a natural death—as had all his previous liaisons.

Hell of a way to start a relationship—planning its demise.

But he was attracted to Sabrina and the idea of sharing her bed appealed tremendously.

He’d need an ironclad prenup.

“Can I get you anything else?” Sabrina asked, her suspicious gaze drilling his. The familiar clench of desire fisted in his gut and pounded through his veins.

“This’ll do, love,” Caldwell answered.

She left the room, her protectiveness of her grandfather clear in her reluctant steps.

Gavin took a deep breath, willing sanity to return and offer him a better option. It didn’t. “I’ll do it.”

Two

Her grandfather had closed the door.

Sabrina couldn’t remember any other time in her life when Pops had shut her out of a conversation. She blamed their unexpected visitor—one who couldn’t be bothered to make an appointment—for the exclusion.

Gavin Jarrod epitomized everything Sabrina disliked about the soon-to-be-arriving ski season guests. Rich guys like him, with their perfectly tousled hair, flawless faces and gym-buffed bodies swaggered into town like they owned the place. They threw around their money and entitled attitudes, expecting the world to revolve around their wants and acting like the local businesses should kiss their expensively-shod feet and be grateful for whatever crumbs the rich guests threw their way.

Well, not her. She’d had enough of that holier-than-thou behavior throughout school from the wealthy snobs who’d attended the elite private college where her parents had taught. Those snotty students had made sure Sabrina knew she was not one of them. As if being a professor’s daughter made her somehow genetically inferior to someone born to money.

She swished the cleaning cloth over the countertop and tried to ignore the anger and worry making her stomach churn. She knew her grandfather’s health wasn’t as good as it had been when she’d arrived three years ago. He slept more, ate less and had trouble keeping up with the inn’s routine maintenance—a job he used to tackle with enthusiasm. But he wouldn’t let her hire anyone to help him. He always claimed he’d get to the tasks, but the to-do list kept growing and the clock ticked down on the upcoming Thanksgiving holiday when the ski slopes would officially open and the guests would arrive—whether the inn was ready or not. Unless a miracle happened, this year the inn wasn’t going to be ready.

Was Gavin Jarrod here to try and buy the inn? She couldn’t imagine her grandfather handing over the reins, but that day was coming, she realized with a heavy cloak of sadness. She’d hoped—prayed, really—he’d let her take over, but a few months ago while cleaning his office she’d come across a pamphlet on his desk on donating property to the historic trust. When she’d asked him about it he’d told her not to worry, he had everything under control. But how could she not lose sleep? If he donated or sold the inn she’d have to find a new home and job.

In the meantime, the only thing she could do was try to help more. She glanced at her sore thumb. Carpentry wasn’t her strong suit, but she’d get better with practice.

The sitting room door opened, and footsteps—too sure and firm to be her grandfather’s—approached.

“Thanks for the coffee and snack.”

Who was Gavin Jarrod and what business did he have with Pops? Reluctant to face the brown, gold-flecked eyes that seemed to see straight through her, she turned slowly. “You’re welcome.”

“Your coconut cake is probably the best I’ve ever tasted.”

Pleasure sent another blast of heat through her already warm body. She struggled to suppress the reaction. No doubt his charm and flattery combined with his money and looks made it easy for him to coast through life. “It’s my grandmother’s recipe.”

“Henry said you don’t have any guests tonight.”

Why would Pops volunteer that? “No. Early November is like the lull before the storm.”

“It’s been the same back at The Ridge ever since the Food & Wine Gala ended. I’m exploring the area restaurants before the tourists hit town. Show me your favorite tonight.”

She fought a grimace. He wasn’t the first of his kind to assume she could be had as easily as booking a room. “I don’t have a favorite, and I’ve already prepared dinner for myself and my grandfather.”

His eyes narrowed. “Henry can serve himself. Let someone cook for you for a change.”

Eating someone else’s cooking was tempting, but not with Gavin Jarrod or his ilk. She’d been led on by too many rich boys and then dumped when she wouldn’t get naked for them or get her parents to give them better grades.

“No. But, thank you.” She tacked on the last hastily because she could almost feel the ghost of her grandmother rapping her knuckles for being ungracious and impolite.

His steady gaze continued to drill her. She felt like a butterfly fighting to get free of a collector’s pin. “Henry is worried that you don’t get out often enough.”

Embarrassment bubbled inside her. Thanks, Pops. “That’s because I don’t date.”

“Ever?”

“No.”

His square jaw dipped. “Are you gay?”

Typical. “Do you assume every woman who turns you down is gay?”

A slow smile curved Gavin’s full lips. “Only the ones who ignore the obvious chemistry between us.”

So he’d caught that, had he? She hadn’t experienced that rush of response since before her husband had died and it had caught her off guard. She had no interest in pursuing it. “There is no chemistry.”

The fire in Gavin’s eyes told her she shouldn’t have challenged him. Two long strides brought him within touching distance. Within smelling distance. An outdoorsy, woodsy and clean scent mixed with a hint of something spicy and exotic clung to him.

She stared into his handsome face, alarm prickling the hairs on her nape and arms. He wasn’t particularly tall—six feet, maybe a little more—but he seemed bigger in an intimidating, turf-conquering way despite the snowboarder-disheveled hair that should have made him appear easygoing and approachable.

“No chemistry?” He lifted a hand.

Sabrina backed out of reach. “Don’t.”

“Don’t prove you’re lying?”

“Calling a woman a liar is a unique way to win points. Does that approach usually work for you, Mr. Jarrod?”

The corners of his eyes crinkled. “You seem like the type who’d appreciate honesty.”

“Good deduction. Let’s start with what business do you have with my grandfather?”

“I’d be happy to tell you.” Gavin’s smile broadened, revealing an orthodontist’s dream of straight white teeth. “Over dinner.”

Sabrina ground her molars in aggravation. How could she protect her grandfather and the inn without information? “Nice try. The answer’s still no.”

“Not even if I tell you your grandfather has something I want?”

Warning sirens blared in her head. “What?”

“Join me and I’ll tell you.”

She really hated being backed into a corner, but she wasn’t going to let Gavin have the upper hand.

“Make it lunch.” It wouldn’t be a date. It would merely be a fact-finding mission.

Those gold-flecked eyes probed hers. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow at eleven. Dress warmly. Wear walking shoes.”

Without waiting for an answer he brushed past her and exited via the back door.

Dress warmly? Wear walking shoes? What had she gotten herself into? At the sound of the lock catching, the tension deflated from her muscles like air escaping from a balloon.

The creak of a floorboard brought her around. Pops made his way down the center hall, his steps lacking the vigor that had once radiated from him. She tucked her concern away for later and parked her hands on her hips. “What was that about?”

“Jarrod’s just being neighborly.”

The fact that he didn’t look at her when he spoke sent tingles of worry down her spine. “Baloney. What does he want?”

“Can’t a body converse with a neighbor?”

“He told me you had something he wanted.”

He shrugged. “The Jarrods own half the damn valley. What more could they want?”

When Pops wore that stubborn expression trying to get him to talk was a waste of time, but she didn’t believe the just-being-friendly story for one second.

“Pops, why did you tell him I don’t go out?”

“You don’t.”

She shook her head. “You know I’m not interested in—”

“You should be. Your husband died. You didn’t.”

She flinched at the quick stab of pain. “I’m not ready.”

She’d never be ready. She’d given up everything for love, and when Russell had died she’d had nothing left—nothing except Pops and the Snowberry Inn. And now she could lose those.

His shoulders drooped. “When I’m gone—”

“Stop. You know I hate it when you talk that way.”

“Hating it doesn’t change the facts, girl. You can’t run this place by yourself. It’s too much. You need someone to help you. Someone who doesn’t punch a time clock or resent the long hours.”

“I don’t have to be married to be a good businesswoman. I can take care of the inn the way you and Grandma taught me.”

He shook his head. “You’re missing the point, Sabrina. Life is meant to be shared and enjoyed, not endured. If you try to run this place on your own you won’t have time for a life. Russell would be the last one to want you to sit on the bench for the remainder of your days.”

Sabrina swallowed to ease the grief tightening her throat at the mention of her husband. “I haven’t noticed you dating since Grandma passed.”

“That’s because I already had forty-six years with the best woman God ever created. No one else can measure up. I don’t want to lead a lady on only to disappoint her, ’cuz I ain’t settling for second-best, and I ain’t getting hitched again. I’m too old to change my ways to suit another. You’re only twenty-five. Too young to quit living. Tarnation, I have more of a social life than you do.”

“I could always join your weekly poker club.” Her tongue-in-cheek comment deepened the concern shadowing his eyes.

“Don’t sass me, Sabrina. You once talked about traveling the world and filling your home with a passel of young’uns. You still have time for both. But not if you keep hiding here.”

The cold ashes of dead dreams stirred inside her. “I’m not hiding. I’m working. And I don’t need children to have a full life. As far as seeing the world, I have everything I want right here, Pops. The world’s travelers come to us.”

“The world might come to Aspen, but hearing about somebody else’s adventures secondhand and watching from the sidelines ain’t the same as playing in the game.”

“I certainly don’t have a future with some rich guy who’s only counting days until he can leave town.”

“He ain’t your father. Jarrod might have left town, but he came back the minute his daddy died. Don’t try to tell me you’re not interested in him. I saw you putting on lip gloss in the hall.”

Guilt burned Sabrina’s cheeks. “I was working outside trying to fix the loose railings when he interrupted me. My lips were dry.”

“Yep, I’m sure that explains why you couldn’t take your eyes off each other when you were in the same room.”

She didn’t bother to deny it. “You don’t know him. How can you or I trust him? I’ve heard you refer to the Jarrods as land-hungry thugs too many times to count.”

“That was their daddy. Donald Jarrod turned into a heartless, selfish bastard after his wife died. He gobbled up everything around him, and he rode his kids so hard it’s no wonder they all skedaddled as soon as they could. But I know more about the Jarrod boys than you think. I watched ’em grow up. The whole town did. And while those boys might have gotten up to some high jinks like reg’lar kids, they were hard workers and always respectful.”

Hard workers? She couldn’t imagine anyone with the Jarrods’ wealth doing anything that required them to break a sweat except maybe watching the stock market play with their investment portfolios. Jarrod Ridge catered to the wealthiest clients who wanted pampering and spoiling. Their guest list read like a global who’s who of famous names, and a day at the resort’s spa cost more than she made in a month’s salary. She knew that much from the grapevine and the local paper.

But that didn’t tell her why Gavin had come here and secluded himself in a room with her grandfather. Was Pops going to donate the inn to the historic preservation society or was he thinking of selling to the Jarrods? “He’s not here to buy the inn, is he?”

“He’s not interested in the inn.”

“Then what?”

“Nothing you need to worry about.” But again, his gaze drifted away from hers.

She had to find out what was going on. The only way she’d get her answers was to get as wily as Pops. She wouldn’t tell him she’d already been coerced into lunch.

“I’ll go out with Gavin if you’ll agree to let me hire a handyman to get this place in shape. We’re booked solid beginning the Monday before Thanksgiving all the way through mid-March.”

His pride obviously ruffled, Pops puffed up his narrow shoulders. “I can handle the chores.”

“I’m sure you can. There’s not that much to do. But this way you can focus on the important items and let someone else sweat the small stuff.”

His eyes narrowed and his thumb jabbed his chest. “You got yourself a deal but only if I get to pick the handyman. And you’ll give Jarrod a fair shot. Y’hear?”

“I’ll go out with him once. It’s up to him to make me want more.” And she could safely guarantee that would never happen. She was through with love and all the heartaches that went with it. And she specifically wanted nothing to do with Gavin Jarrod.

The knock on the front door filled Sabrina with dread. She’d rather slam her thumb with the hammer again than go on this outing.

Determined to get this over with, she shrugged on her coat and zipped it to her chin, then marched across the foyer and opened the door. Gavin, wearing a black ski jacket that accentuated his broad shoulders, filled the entry. Her insides did an inexplicable gelatin jiggle thing, and the frosty air sweeping inside did nothing to cool her suddenly warm cheeks.

Okay, so he was attractive. But nothing was going to happen between them no matter what Pops hoped.

Gavin’s dark gaze skimmed Sabrina from her barely behaving curls to her scuffed boots. “Bring gloves and a toboggan.”

She glanced past him and spotted a Jeep with monstrously large tires in the inn’s parking lot. No luxurious Cadillac today. “Where are we going?”

“On a picnic.”

Was the man stupid or just into torturing her? “It’s forty degrees outside.”

“I won’t let you get hypothermia.”

“And how exactly do you plan to keep me warm? If this is some rich-boy ruse to get physically close you’re going to be disappointed.”

“It’s not. Trust me. I know what I’m doing.”

Trust him? Not on her life. She snagged her gloves and hat from the hallstand. “Let’s go.”

The gold flecks in his eyes glittered with amusement. “Said with the enthusiasm of a woman on her way to have cavities filled at the dentist’s office without Novocain.”

“Does your ego require me to pretend I’m eager to go out with you? You know I only agreed because you’re withholding information.”

His grin broadened—like a shark’s—at her sarcasm. “You won’t regret spending the day with me.”

“That remains to be seen. And it’s not the day. Just lunch. Two hours, at the most. I have chores to do this afternoon.”

His confidence—or was it arrogance?—came through loud and clear in the cocky way he indicated the four-wheel drive vehicle with a sweeping arm and a slight bow. Sabrina traversed the walk, conscious of him looming behind her. He reached past her to open the door. Avoiding contact, she climbed inside the Jeep.

She caught a glimpse of her grandfather’s face at one of the inn’s windows. Why did he look so serious? He was getting his way. She hoped he appreciated her sacrificing an afternoon of repairs for this. But he’d agreed to hire help, and that would make suffering through the next couple of hours worth it. Resigned to her fate, she buckled her seat belt.

Gavin slid into his seat and started the engine. He turned the car toward Jarrod Ridge. Sabrina sat back and took in the scenery of Aspen’s grid of streets. Art galleries, designer clothing and jewelry boutiques and famous chefs’ restaurants lined the sidewalks, alternating old-world charm with more modern architecture. For such a small city, Aspen’s downtown and the surrounding ski areas brought in a lot of tourists and generated a lot of jobs and revenue. She was lucky to be a part of it. And she didn’t want to lose it, but there was no way she could afford to live here without the inn.

All too soon Gavin turned through the resort’s arched entrance. She’d never had a reason to come down this road, and her curiosity got the better of her, but before she could catch more than a glimpse of the reportedly ultra-luxurious lodges, Gavin veered off the driveway and onto a dirt track.

“Where does this go?”

“My favorite spot.” He shot a short, stabbing, breath-stealing glance her way. She shut down her response. Charming or not, she wasn’t interested in him or a bored, rich guy’s flirtation.

The track grew rougher and steeper. She gripped the seat and stared out the window rather than at Gavin. The Jeep bounced along until he took a sharp turn around a boulder and stopped on the edge of a small clearing. “We’re here.”

She swept her eyes across the snow-dappled scene. No picnic tables. Nothing, in fact, except nature. Dirt. Rocks. Trees. “This is it? We’re in the middle of nowhere. How far are we from the lodge?”

“Not far as the crow flies, but I wouldn’t recommend trying to hike it unless you’re a seasoned climber. The terrain is pretty rough.”

She wasn’t an outdoorsman. She shoved open the car door and cold air gusted inside making her shiver. “Maybe we should eat in the car.”

“Coward.” He delivered the insult as a challenge, then climbed from the vehicle and walked to the back to retrieve a bulging backpack which he shrugged on. After tugging on her hat and gloves she followed.

When she reached his side he tossed a thick blue blanket at her. “Think you can carry that?”

“Sure.” She’d probably need to wrap up in it.

After locking the Jeep he headed down an almost indecipherable trail scratched through the low-growing junipers. Sabrina trudged after him, inhaling the crisp, clean air. This is what Gavin smelled like, she realized. Evergreens and earth and sunlight. An odd combination for a city guy.

“Watch your step,” he cautioned over his shoulder as the ascent steepened. “Do you need a hand?”

“I can manage.” She hadn’t been hiking in ages—not since the summer before she’d run away to get married. Back then her grandfather had had the energy to take her exploring in the mountains around Aspen, sometimes on horseback, but usually on foot. When the inn hadn’t been busy her grandmother had joined them. Those carefree days had been some of the happiest in Sabrina’s life.

Brushing off the sadness and worry, she studied the green firs, pines and bare aspen trees around her rather than the taut leg and butt muscles flexing in front of her. Gavin probably paid a trainer an obscene amount of money to keep him in shape.

For the next ten minutes she concentrated on her footing and her breathing. Just when she thought her lungs would burst from the unaccustomed exercise he stopped. “This is it.”

She scanned the clearing at the base of a rock face, noting the carefully laid fire pit stacked with split logs and surrounded by stones. He’d obviously been up here earlier to prepare for this outing. “There’s nothing here.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” He shrugged off his knapsack, removed his gloves and then lit the fire. The dry wood caught quickly. “How much do you know about Aspen’s history?”

Sabrina moved closer to the crackling flames even though the climb had warmed her. She shed her gloves to enjoy the heat on her palms. “I know Aspen began as a silver mining town called Ute City in 1879, but I’m sorry to say that’s the extent of my knowledge even though I spent most of my summers here while my parents went away on research trips. I only learned enough of the city’s history to point the inn’s guests in the right direction.”

“What kind of research do your folks do?”

She considered dodging the question, but what did it matter if he knew? “They’re university professors back in Pennsylvania specializing in animal science. They’re always jetting off somewhere around the globe to study behavior patterns of some critter or another.”

“You didn’t go with them?”

“They claimed it was safer for me to stay with my grandparents.” Personally, she didn’t think her parents wanted to be distracted by looking after her when they had much more interesting things like polar bears or penguins in their sights.

He spread out the blanket on an area that had been raked clean of snow then proceeded to lay out an assortment of covered containers, a pair of thermoses, and finally a loaf of crusty bread wrapped in a cloth napkin.

Her instinct was to offer to help, but he’d forced this outing on her, so she let him do the work. Shoving her hands in her pockets, she wandered a few yards from the fire, trying to see what lay beyond the next turn in the path. Even though Gavin appeared occupied with the preparations, she could feel his attention focused on her like an alpha wolf’s would be aware of his pack—or his next meal.

He glanced up, finding her instantly and proving her point. “We’ll explore after we eat. Lunch is ready. Have a seat.”

Skeptical of how she’d enjoy a meal when she was so cold, she returned and eased down onto the blanket, trying to stay close to the fire and in reach of the food but not too close to her unwanted companion.

Gavin Jarrod unsettled her. Being near him made her feel as if she were perched at the top of the highest double black diamond ski trail and teetering on the verge of plunging downhill at breakneck speed. She wasn’t an expert skier by any means, and Gavin, like the most advanced slopes, was far out of her league.

“The mining heyday didn’t last long, did it?” she asked to change the subject to something less agitating.

His gaze hit hers like a falling tree, knocking the wind from her. “Most of the mines closed down after the Panic of 1893 and by the 1930s Aspen had less than a thousand inhabitants after maxing out at close to fifteen thousand. The region didn’t recover until the mid-1940s when it became a designated ski area. Jarrod Ridge weathered it all.”

The pride in his voice spurred her own. “So did Snowberry Inn. My ancestors have been here just as long as yours.”

“So they have.” He indicated the thermoses, giving her an excuse to break the connection his eyes seemed to have forged with hers. “You have your choice of hot coffee, hot chocolate or bottled water. We’re having chili for lunch. There’s freshly shredded cheddar in that tub, sour cream in this one and raw vegetables and dip in there.”

“This is a pretty decent spread,” she admitted grudgingly.

“For a guy?” He unscrewed the cap on one of the containers and steam mushroomed into the air. The aroma of the spicy chili filled her nose and her mouth watered.

She shrugged. “For a rich guy.”

He hiked a brow. “What did you expect?”

She shrugged. “An unimaginative, candlelit meal in some fancy place that doesn’t put prices on the menu, has obsequious waiters and a wine list the size of a telephone book.”

He studied her, and she couldn’t tell from his neutral expression if she’d annoyed him. “If I did that you might think I was trying to impress you.”

Was that deadpan humor or was he serious? “You’re not?”

He poured the thick chili into a bowl and passed it to her along with a spoon and a mug. “If I were, you’d know it. Eat before it gets cold.”

She frowned as she tried to make sense of the conversation and took a bite of the chili. The rich beefy flavor exploded on her tongue. “Mmm. This is good.”

“It’s one of my older brother’s recipes. Before Guy got too big for his britches he used to be a good cook. Now he owns a restaurant and lets others man the stove.”

“My compliments to the chef.”

He lifted his mug in a toast. “Glad you like it.”

“You cooked?” Surely he had a staff at his beck and call at the resort.

“Even rich guys have been known to stir a pot now and then.”

Chastened, she broke off a piece of bread, dipped it into her bowl and then ate while she tried to figure out what Gavin wanted from her. There were certainly far more attractive available women in town. Why her? Boredom? Slumming? The inn?

“What brought you back to Aspen?” His question chiseled into her thoughts.

Sabrina chose her words carefully. The full truth tended to elicit either pity or an anti-war tirade, and she wasn’t in the mood for either, so she edited. “My grandmother died and Pops needed my help with the inn.”

“Planning to stay?”

“Yes.”

“What did you do before moving here?”

“Work and school.” Wife. But enough about her. She shifted on the blanket. “What about you?”

“Work. Travel.”

She guessed she deserved the brief response. “Travel to where?”

He shrugged. “Anywhere the job or the mood took me.”

That sounded like heaven. She and Russell had intended to work their way around the country when he’d gotten out of the service, but his death on his last mission had derailed their plans.

The remainder of the meal passed with nothing but the sound of some small animal foraging for food in the background interrupted by an occasional jet overhead. After he’d packed away the dishes he extracted graham crackers, chocolate bars and marshmallows from his backpack along with a couple of skewers.

The ingredients looked familiar. “You’re making s’mores?”

“It’s a tradition. My brothers and I used to make them whenever we camped here.”

An image of him as a gangly kid chipped away at her dislike. “I haven’t had s’mores in a long time.”

She focused on his hands as he skewered the marshmallows then roasted them over the fire. His weren’t the pampered hands of a pencil-pushing millionaire. Small scars marred the tanned flesh and his palms had calluses. The imperfections didn’t fit with the Cadillac-driving, Tag Heuer watch-wearing, swaggering image she had of him from yesterday. “What do you do when you’re not killing time in Aspen, Gavin?”

“I’m a construction engineer.”

She’d been wrong. He wasn’t a man of leisure, and an engineer had to be smart despite the evidence to the contrary of his bringing her here to freeze her fanny off. But now that she considered it, she wasn’t all that cold with the warmth of the fire in front of her and the outcropping of rocks behind her to block the wind.

But his occupation told her nothing about why he’d be interested in her grandfather or the Snowberry Inn. “Working on what?”

“Bridges, dams, mines, buildings. I go wherever the project sounds the most interesting.”

“You love your job.” The enthusiasm in his tone gave it away.

“I never wanted to do anything else.”

“Then I can see why being grounded here for a year must be hard.” He had the world waiting for him.

“I’ll survive it.” He sandwiched a gooey semi-melted marshmallow and a piece of chocolate between two crackers and offered it to her.

She took it, bit into the crisp crackers and chewed, savoring the rush of memories the sweet treat brought back. She and her grandmother had made s’mores often. “Okay, I have to admit, I was skeptical about your picnic, but this was a good idea. It’s beautiful up here.”

“It’s better at night when you can see the stars.” He took a bite of his dessert.

“It’s a little late in the season for that with the night temperatures in the single digits.” She licked a sticky bit from her lip. “You still haven’t told me what my grandfather has that you want.”

“This.” His gesture encompassed the area around them.

A tiny dot of chocolate clung to the corner of his mouth. She had a weird urge to reach out and wipe it away with a fingertip. Or her tongue. Shocked by the errant thought, she averted her gaze and rescanned the setting rather than focus on that strangely tempting spot. “And what is ‘this’ exactly?”

“Five acres surrounded by Jarrod territory and a defunct silver mine started by one of my ancestors before Aspen was founded.”

When she looked back, the tempting daub of chocolate was gone, thank goodness. “Pops owns this land? But you said something about a poker bet.”

“Henry won the plot and the mineral rights from my grandfather fifty years ago. I want both back.”

“That’s all? Just this land? If he sells it to you, you’ll leave him alone?”

He picked up a stick and poked the fire, avoiding her gaze—exactly the way her grandfather had. “Yes.”

She didn’t believe him. Cradling the now-empty mug of coffee in her hands she searched his tense face. “And what do you want from me? Do you expect me to convince Pops to sell it to you?”

“We’ve already agreed on the terms.”

Something didn’t add up. “If Pops has already promised to give you what you want, then why am I here, Gavin?”

Silent seconds stretched between them. “Because I want you, Sabrina Taylor. And you want me, too.”

Her stomach swooped and burned in a way that had nothing to do with the spicy chili or the gooey, yummy dessert. Denial galloped in, making her heart pound like stampeding horses. “You’re mistaken.”

His teeth flashed in a brief, but predatory smile. “One of these days you’ll learn I rarely refuse a challenge. Looks like I’m going to have to prove you wrong.”

He hooked a hand behind her nape and pulled her forward, covering her mouth with his.

Three

Gavin took advantage of Sabrina’s surprise-parted lips to sweep his tongue across the slick surface of hers. Her squeak of protest filled his mouth, but before he could force himself to let her go, her shocked stiffness eased and the hands she’d planted on his chest flexed into his coat, anchoring him. His heart pounded approval.

He hadn’t expected a deal with the devil to taste this good, but the combination of sweet dessert, spicy chili and hot woman hit him like a prizefighter’s right hook, making his head spin.

God help him, he wanted Sabrina in a way he shouldn’t want a woman being forced down his throat as part of a business deal, but they had something between them, and while the chemistry might be temporary, it was damned impressive and worth exploring.

She returned his kiss, tentatively at first, with soft flutters of her lips against his, then with increasing pressure and hunger. Her hand slid upward until her short nails teased the underside of his jaw. Her fingertips were cool against his overheated skin, but her kisses burned hot. He snaked an arm around her waist and tugged her forward onto her knees. She leaned against him, her weight supported on his chest, her hands braced on his shoulders, digging into his muscles.

Cursing the insulating layers between them as their tongues tangled and their breaths mingled, he deepened the kiss, tunneling his fingers into her curls, surprised to find the coils soft instead of wiry. He couldn’t get enough. Air or her. His body steamed inside his coat. Skin against skin would be good right about now. He reached for the zipper tab under her chin.

She gasped, pushed his hand away and jerked back, falling onto her butt. Eyes wide with horror, her breath panting as rapidly as his made clouds in the air between them. She scooted away on the blanket and pressed her fingertips to her mouth. “What was that?”

“Proof,” was all he could force out. Her taste lingered on his damp lips, making him ache to tug her down on the blanket and cover her body with his.

Her dazed expression morphed into disbelief. “Proof of what?”

His blood slowly drifted north, reviving brain cells her kiss had decimated. “That you want me. And trust me, Sabrina, the feeling is mutual.”

Shaking her head, she shot to her feet. “No. You’re wrong. I’m not interested in getting involved with you. Or anyone. Take me home, Gavin.”

He could argue that her actions contradicted her words, that even now the flush on her cheeks and the rapid rise and fall of her breasts gave away her arousal. But he didn’t want to scare her off. Instead, he rose slowly, being careful not to jar the lingering ridge behind his zipper. “Not yet.”

“Then I’ll walk.”

He couldn’t let her go. Not with the bargain he’d made. If he did she’d never agree to see him again let alone marry him. And at the moment, marriage wasn’t looking like the death sentence it once had.

He caught her elbow. “I don’t recommend walking out. It’s a long way and it’s cold. I brought you up here to show you the mine. Take a look, then I’ll drive you back.”

She scanned the area as if searching for the mine portal. Or the path to freedom.

Cupping her shoulders, he steered her to the left and pointed. She stiffened in his hold. “The entrance is behind that line of firs. I planted them when I was a teenager to conceal my hideaway.”

She shrugged off his hands. “I’ve seen old mines before. The area is littered with them. I don’t need to see another one.”

“Even though your grandparents spent time spelunking in this one?”

She bit her lip, curiosity invading her blue eyes, then stomped her feet and shoved her hands into her pockets. “Did Pops tell you that? I mean, I know you said he owned it, but how do you know he or my grandmother were ever here?”

“After I discovered Henry owned the mine I realized the initials I’d found carved into one of the beams were his, and when he told me your grandmother’s name was Colleen I guessed the set beside his might be hers.”

“Maybe he carved both.”

“Come and see. Judge for yourself.”

“I could just call him and ask.” She pulled out her cell phone.

“You get poor, if any, reception up here.”

She checked the phone, frowned, then shoved it back into her pocket. Her eyes clouded with suspicion. “Is this your version of showing me your etchings?”

Her accusation surprised a bark of laughter out of him. Sabrina was a tough case, and she really didn’t like him. He had his work cut out for him to win her over. “I confess I used that trick when I was a dumb kid, but I don’t need a cold, dark tunnel and a repertoire of ghost stories to get women these days.”

She folded her arms. “And yet here we are. I had given you points for originality with your hearty picnic, but now you tell me this is your old tried-and-true seduction routine?”

Guilty. “This is my favorite place. I wanted to share it with you. Put on your gloves and let me show you a bit of history—your history. Our history.”

Shifting on her feet, she looked back down the trail, blew out a frosty breath, then snatched up her gloves. “Make it quick.”

If she was half as curious as he hoped she’d be, “quick” wouldn’t be an option. He still had a lot to learn about his wife-to-be, and the only way to figure out if the old man had hoodwinked him into agreeing to marry a nut-job was to spend time with Sabrina. “Follow me.”

He stepped into the adit running horizontally into the side of the mountain and lit the kerosene lantern he kept inside the portal. “Once in a while we get a few bats, but they shouldn’t bother you.”

She flashed a startled glance at him. “That better not be a cheap trick to get your hands on me again.”

Give her points for intelligence. He hid a grin by ducking under a crossbeam. “Guess you’ll have to figure that out yourself. Stick close and watch your head. It’s a small mine, but I don’t want you to get lost.”

“Gee, thanks. Should I drop bread crumbs?”

“Not unless you want wildlife to come looking for you.”

She gasped and hung back.

“I’ll take care of you, Sabrina. Come on.”

He was used to the deep shadows cast by the lantern, but she wasn’t. Every now and then she jumped and hustled closer to him.

She paused at the first ventilation shaft, looked up into the dark hole and then down and stomped her foot. “I didn’t expect a wooden floor.”

“A solid surface makes rolling the ore cart out easier. The boards have held up well because it’s dry and cool in here. If you’ve toured larger mines then you know most have tracks, but this was a one-man operation for the most part, although my great-great-grandfather must have had help setting the supports.”

She eyed the square-set timbers warily. “How safe are the supports?”

He heard the apprehension in her voice and stopped, making her jerk to a halt just short of colliding with him. The small circle of light forced an intimacy between them. She stared up at him with dilated pupils and parted lips, and the need to kiss her again seized him. With the taste of her still fresh on his mind and mouth, it was difficult to remember to take it slow rather than act on his desires and risk scaring her.

He suppressed the hunger. “I spent countless hours in here as a kid and more as an experienced engineer. The mine is as safe as any mine can be. There are always risks when you’re underground.”

“There you go trying to scare me again.”

“Relax. Short of an earthquake—which is unlikely—you’re safe. I’ve been in here several times since returning home and checked to make sure there aren’t any unwelcome visitors hibernating.” He hadn’t intended that to be a cheap shot, but she startled and shuffled closer.

She scowled. “Cut it out. But I’m warning you, Gavin Jarrod, if there are any bears or fanged creatures, I’m pushing you into them and running for it while they feast on you.”

“Thanks for the heads-up.” Her feisty attitude would definitely make their relationship interesting. He led her toward the mine’s newest section. “Some mines have steep drops or winzes that go straight down. Our ancestors kept the tunnels relatively level, but there are plenty of drifts to explore.”

“Drifts?”

“Dead-end tunnels. The one where your grandfather left his mark is ahead on your right.” He lifted the lantern, illuminating a broad beam as they approached the turn. “The depth and shape of the second set of initials is different from the first. It doesn’t look like the same person carved the letters.”

She stepped closer, brushing against him in the narrow space. He caught a trace of her flowery scent over the earthy smell of the tunnel and his pulse quickened. She peeled off a glove and lifted her hand to trace the letters of the second trio. “CDC. Colleen Douglas Caldwell. You’re right. These are my grandmother’s initials. She always used to put a little heart like this one after her name.”

He had a crazy urge to coil a curl around his finger, but focused instead on why he’d brought her here. “The carvings and this section weren’t here when I left for college, and I don’t remember seeing them when I came home on school breaks. Your grandparents must have dug this sometime in the last six years.”

“My grandmother died five years ago.”

The pain in her voice sounded fresh. “You were close?”

Her fingers lingered, then her arm slowly lowered, as if she hated breaking the connection. “She was more of a mother to me during those summer months than mine was for the rest of the year—not that my mother was or is a bad parent. She’s just totally absorbed with her Arctic mammals.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.” He reached into his pocket and dug out his pocketknife then flicked open the blade. Sabrina stumbled back, fear flashing in her eyes. He’d never had a woman be afraid of him before, and he didn’t like it.

He offered her the butt of the knife. “Keep the family tradition alive and carve your initials into the beam.”

The wariness faded from her face, replaced by a vulnerability that jump-started his pulse and made him want to take her in his arms, but if he did that he was going to kiss her again—and reinforce her suspicions that he was using old tricks on her.

“Thank you. I’d like that.” She took the knife from him.

She tucked her tongue into the corner of her mouth as she worked. The gesture was damned adorable. And sexy. Then in the lantern light he caught the glistening of tears brimming in her eyes and rolling down her cheeks, and it hit him low and hard that Sabrina could be hurt by the marriage scheme.

But what choice did he have except to carry on? His family was counting on him.

She had to get rid of Gavin Jarrod, Sabrina decided as he shadowed her to the inn’s front door as the sun set. But more immediately, she had to avoid kissing him again.

Guilt and fear intertwined inside her. For a moment up on the mountain she’d weakened and let herself be swept away by the strength of Gavin’s arms as he held her and the passion in his kiss as his lips plied hers. She’d taken pleasure in the leashed power of his muscle-packed form against her, the smell of him, the taste of him—all that manly stuff her life had been lacking lately—and her body had awakened with a rush of desire.

In that moment, she’d forgotten Russell.

She’d forgotten how much loving him had cost her, how much losing him had hurt and the vow she’d made while standing at his graveside to never open herself up to that kind of pain again.

Determined to keep her distance from Gavin, she stopped at the door, pivoted and offered her hand. “Thank you for lunch and for showing me the mine.”

Eyes narrowed, he studied her extended arm, then searched her face. “You’re welcome.”

His long, warm fingers closed around hers, but instead of shaking her hand and releasing her, he anchored her in place and bent his head. Her heart sputtered in panic. She ducked at the last second to dodge his kiss, and his lips settled on her temple. She tried to pull away, but he kept her tethered with his strong grip, then he feathered a string of soft branding caresses along her cheekbone. A shudder of awareness shimmied over her. She struggled to clear her head with gulps of chilly autumn air.

“Stop, Gavin,” she croaked and pushed against him with her free hand. How could she tell a man that he’d made her feel and she preferred being numb?

Without loosening his grip Gavin slowly straightened. “I’d like to take you out again—maybe to one of those restaurants you described—the ones with no prices on the menu and a long wine list.”

She blinked up at him. Was he teasing or serious? His direct gaze held no humor. It held something much more frightening—hunger. Alarm prickled through her followed by a chaser of heat that started at her core and radiated outward, making her skin hypersensitive.

“I really—today was—I’m sorry. No, thank you.” She couldn’t string sentences together when he looked at her like he wanted to devour her mouth…and then the rest of her.

“I don’t give up that easily, Sabrina. We have something worth exploring.”

Even though she’d failed in her mission to discover what Gavin really wanted from her grandfather she couldn’t risk another outing. Pops was a safer target. She’d work on prying the details out of him. “We don’t share anything more than a history of ancestors settling in the same town about the same time.”

One corner of his mouth lifted in a sexy half smile. “You love issuing challenges, don’t you?”

She wriggled her hand free and hugged her arms around her middle. “That wasn’t a challenge. I’m sure you’re a nice guy, but I just don’t have time for a social life right now. There’s too much to do before the season starts. Go play with one of your lodge bunnies.”

“I’m not interested in lodge guests. I’m interested in you.”

Her stomach flip-flopped at the intensity of his gaze and his low, gravelly tone. She shook her head. “Good-bye, Gavin.”

She fumbled behind her for the doorknob, but the door swung open before she could locate the brass orb.

“Don’t keep the man out in the cold, Sabrina. Invite him in,” her grandfather said.

Denial screamed through her. “Pops, Gavin has to g—”

“Thanks, Henry, I appreciate it.” Gavin overrode her objection and moved forward, forcing Sabrina to scramble out of his path. Now what?

The three of them stood in the foyer with an odd, expectant tension she didn’t understand stretching between them. Sabrina could feel Gavin’s and her grandfather’s gazes on her. She didn’t know what they were looking for and she couldn’t come up with an acceptable excuse to escape.

Gavin shifted his attention to Pops. “I’m trying to convince Sabrina to join me for dinner.”

Her grandfather nodded. “Good idea. I have a hankering for leftover pot roast, so there’s no need for her to cook tonight.”

“Pops,” Sabrina squeaked in protest. “I’ve explained to Gavin that I have too much to do getting ready for our guests.”

“Not if I hire that handyman you insisted on to help with your to-do list.” Pops looked at Gavin. “Know anybody who’s skilled with power tools and has a few hours to spare each day over the next three weeks?”

“As a matter of fact, I do. Me.”

“No,” Sabrina all but shouted on a wave of panic. “We’re going to hire someone local. Someone who needs the work.” She shot her grandfather a warning look—to which he seemed oblivious.

Gavin shrugged, splaying his big hands, palms up. “I need the work. Not financially, but because I’m going stir-crazy up at The Ridge with nothing to do. We already have a full staff. They don’t need me. I’ll donate whatever salary you intended to pay to the charity of your choice.”

“Well, ain’t that nice.” Pops sounded far too smug for Sabrina’s liking.

“I’d rather hire a local, Pops.”

Gavin smiled. “I am a local, Aspen born and bred.”

She gritted her teeth. “You know what I mean. There are unemployed people in town who actually need the income.”

Pops clapped Gavin on the shoulder. “Glad to have your help. And if you two aren’t going out tonight you can stay for dinner. By the time I finish going over Sabrina’s list with you, she should have something ready. She’s a pretty good cook. My Colleen taught her.”

Sabrina wanted to scream. The only thing she wanted to cook up for Gavin Jarrod was food poisoning. “I’m sure Gavin has better things to do.”

“My evening’s free,” the pig-headed rat replied with an innocent expression she didn’t buy for one second. “Henry, show me that list, and we’ll see what tools and supplies we’ll need. I can be at the builder’s supply store tomorrow morning as soon as they unlock their doors.”

“Sounds like a good plan,” her grandfather said before turning and heading for his study with a spring in his step Sabrina hadn’t seen in a while.

Having Gavin underfoot for three weeks sounded like a disaster to her, and the glint in his eyes as he smiled at her made it clear he knew he was irritating the daylights out of her—and was loving every second of it. He followed her grandfather. If she’d had her grandmother’s cast-iron skillet in hand, Sabrina would have hurled it at his head.

For her grandfather’s sake and to get the work done that the inn desperately needed, she would endure Gavin’s company. But that was it. There would be no more dates.

And there definitely wouldn’t be any more kisses.

“I took Sabrina to the mine,” Gavin told Henry as the old man rifled through the slips of paper piled on his desk.

Henry’s chin popped up. He examined Gavin over the top of his gold-rimmed bifocals. “Why in tarnation would you do that?”

“She wouldn’t go out with me until I bribed her. Is she always that stubborn?”

“If she’s strong-willed it’s because life’s made her that way. Ain’t necessarily a bad thing. Reminds me of my Colleen. In my day we called it ‘grit,’ and we wanted our women to have it. The ones who lacked it didn’t last long.”

The declaration raised red flags. Gavin had kept Sabrina at the mine for an extra hour, showing her through the tunnels, explaining the mining process and subtly grilling her, but getting information out of her was damn near impossible.

“What made Sabrina tough?”

“You’ll have to figure that out yourself. I’m not making it easy for you. Hiring you to help with the inn’s as far as I’ll go. If you want her you’ll have to work to woo her, and I won’t lie and tell you it’ll be easy. But we agreed to keep the whys and wherefores of this deal between us. You breaking your word already, Jarrod?”

“No, sir. I intend to be as honest with Sabrina as possible and still keep to our agreement. I told her you’d agreed to sell me the land, but not the conditions of the sale.”

Caldwell drilled him with a hard stare. “Guess that’s fair enough. Once you sign the marriage license, I’ll sign the deed.”

Henry extracted a piece of paper and passed it to Gavin. Neat, loopy, girly script covered the page. Sabrina’s. Gavin scanned down the list. Nothing major. “This won’t take three weeks.”

“Then you’d better work slow on the chores and fast on Sabrina.”

What choice did he have with the winter freeze approaching and the old man’s obstinacy? Gavin knew if he didn’t seal this deal soon, he’d have to wait until next spring to break ground. Postponing meant staying longer in Aspen, and that wasn’t going to happen. For his siblings’ sakes he’d stay his year, but not a day more.

The old man chuckled. “Gotta admit, this is gonna be fun to watch.”

Four

It was hard to remember a day Sabrina had dreaded as much as she did this one. She shuffled toward the kitchen Wednesday morning, intent on preparing breakfast, leaving it on the buffet and getting out of the way before Gavin arrived.

Last night she’d taken the coward’s way out by claiming the necessity of paying bills. She’d put dinner on the table for the men and then retired to her office to pick at her meal at her desk. Avoiding Gavin wouldn’t be as easy today.

At the sound of male voices, she stopped abruptly in the back hall. She identified Pops’s then Gavin’s and her stomach sank. He was already here. She checked her watch. Six-thirty. Pulse accelerating, she backed out. A floorboard squeaked beneath her foot, betraying her presence. She cringed.

“Coffee’s ready, girlie. C’mon in,” her grandfather called.

Ugh. Trapped. She debated ignoring the summons, but she’d be darned if she’d let Gavin Jarrod think her a coward. Squaring her shoulders, she fluffed her damp hair, took a deep breath and marched forward.

The men sat at the table, her grandfather with his paper, Gavin with a mug cradled between his big hands. He looked good in a white turtleneck that showed off his tan. His light brown hair looked like a snowboarder’s after a lightning-fast run down the mountain. The mussed strands seemed somehow sexy.

No. Not sexy. Messy.

His gaze drifted from her eyes to her mouth and her stomach did a swan dive. Knowing how he kissed and how he tasted changed everything.

No, it didn’t. She still wasn’t interested.

She gulped. “Good morning.”

He nodded. “Morning.”

She forced her attention to her grandfather. “You’re up earlier than usual for a day when we have no guests.”

He shrugged. “No point in lying abed when there’s so much to do. You’ll want to go over the repairs with Gavin before the two of you head to the builder’s supply center.”

Aghast, she stared at Pops. “I thought you were going with him.”

“Storm must be brewing. M’bones are aching this morning. I’ll take it easy today.”

She worried more than a little that his aches and pains had worsened in the past year, making it impossible to ignore his physical slowdown. Was he also losing his mental acuity?

All the more reason for her to make sure Gavin Jarrod wasn’t trying to pull a fast one on her grandfather and cheat him out of the mine and/or the inn. Hadn’t Pops groused on more than one occasion about Gavin’s dad, Donald, being a greedy, land-hungry bastard? Were all the Jarrods a bunch of swindlers?

She could feel Gavin studying her and headed for the coffeepot to avoid letting him see he’d unsettled her. She wanted to escape this excursion, but if she did then Pops would go. A no-win situation. She didn’t want to go, but she didn’t want Pops and his checkbook alone with Gavin either.

She focused intently on the dark brew streaming into her favorite mug and tried to pretend she couldn’t feel Gavin’s gaze boring into her back like twin laser beams. The way he always watched her—as if she were a puzzle he couldn’t quite figure out—made her nape prickle. She turned toward the sink, reaching for the faucet.

“You won’t need to water down your coffee,” Pops said. “Gavin made it instead of me.”

The territorial invasion made her hackles rise. The man had been messing with her coffeepot.

The perfect excuse to avoid Gavin came to her as she stirred sugar into the liquid. “Your joints are a pretty accurate weather gauge, Pops. Maybe we should postpone repairs until after the front passes.”

“No, ma’am,” Pops snapped. “You’re the one all fired up to get through this list. Best to start now and have spare time at the end than to be pushed to work ’round the clock before our guests arrive.”

True, but that didn’t make it any easier to work with her new handyman.

“I can go with you,” Pops offered grudgingly, “if you’re afraid the job’s too big for you.”

Her spine snapped with indignation. She was practically running the inn single-handedly now. “Do you really believe I can’t handle the shopping?”

“I don’t know, girlie. The maintenance on this place is a daunting job.”

She didn’t like the sound of that. “It’s a job I love and do willingly. I lack a few skills, but I’m learning every day.”

Gavin rose and crossed the kitchen, invading her space and making her move out of the way. He casually refilled his mug as if he weren’t a guest. Pushy bastard. “I borrowed a pickup truck from The Ridge, but it’s a single cab. The bench seat will hold the three of us, but it’ll be a tight squeeze.”

And she’d be sandwiched between the man she loved the most in the world and the one she wanted to avoid at all costs. One who’d stirred up all kinds of dormant feelings she’d prefer to leave sleeping. No more passion for her. No passion meant no pain. She liked it that way.

She tipped her head back to glare at Gavin. “I can do the shopping. In fact, I don’t need your help.”

“Your van isn’t going to carry twelve-foot timber, and I can’t loan you the truck because of liability issues.”

She clenched her teeth in frustration. Did he have to be logical? “I’ll have the order delivered.”

“You’d lose several days’ work time waiting for the materials.”

He had an answer for everything, she fumed silently, and it didn’t help that he was right. “Fine. I’ll ride with you. Pops can stay here.”

Instead of returning to the table, Gavin leaned a hip on the counter right beside her. She scalded her tongue on her first, hasty sip of coffee.

“Did you know our grandfathers were friends?” Gavin asked.

“Best friends,” Pops added. “’Til your grandpappy stiffed me with a bum mine. He claimed he’d found silver chunks the size of a goat’s head in there, but that was bull.”

“I’ve never found anything that large,” Gavin confirmed, “but I still do a little digging and look for a vein each time I come home.”

The comment instantly carried her back to the seclusion and intimacy she’d discovered in the mine—not a mental journey she wanted to revisit. She pivoted away. “What would you like for breakfast today, Pops?”

“Y’might want to ask our guest that since you’re gonna put him to work.”

She bit the inside of her lip. Gavin wasn’t a guest. He was a temporary employee and a pain in her backside. “Gavin?”

“Henry’s been bragging about your blueberry pancakes. Might as well see if he’s all talk.”

“And bacon,” Pops added without a trace of guilt. “Crisp.”

She glanced from man to man. They’d been discussing her? Why? Surely her grandfather wasn’t matchmaking? He knew better. And he knew what kind of man she preferred—one like Russell. Generous, smart, loyal and fearless, as an army medic her husband had been willing to put his life on the line and even die for any member of his unit—a point he’d proven by throwing himself on a grenade to save his team.

Egotistical jerks who swaggered around being excessively bossy and sneaky did nothing for her.

She narrowed her eyes on Gavin. He gave her a half smile. “If you don’t have the ingredients, I could always take you to breakfast at Jarrod Ridge.”

No way. She’d walk barefoot over broken glass to get what she required before she’d have breakfast with him on his turf. It was bad enough he’d forced his presence on her for the shopping trip and chores, but if she wanted to keep her life flowing in the comfortable groove she’d carved for herself since moving to Aspen, avoiding additional one-on-one time with Gavin was a necessity.

“I have everything I need. If you’ll excuse me…?” She made a shooing motion with her hand and waited for him to return to his seat at the table before she pivoted back to the pantry.

She’d made the recipe a hundred times, and she assembled the ingredients by rote. But this time felt different. Her hands were clumsy, her movements awkward as she furiously whisked the egg whites. She realized her frenzied actions were probably giving away more than she intended and deliberately slowed her strokes. She folded the froth to the flour mixture, egg yolks and milk, then ladled the thick liquid onto the hot griddle. The sizzle of butter and batter didn’t drown out the sounds of the men’s voices as they discussed politics, cars and sports. No matter how hard she tried to block them out, she couldn’t escape Gavin’s deep, velvety tone.

Escaping gained appeal by the second, and it seemed to take forever to fry the final piece of bacon and pile the last golden disk on the platter. She carried the plates to the table and turned to leave.

“Whoa, girlie. Sit down and eat.”

“I need to wash the dishes.” She’d done most of the work while cooking, but still—

“I’ll do them while you’re at the store. You’re not hiding in the office like you did last night. These chores were your idea. You need to contribute to the planning.”

Her cheeks burned at being called out in front of Gavin, but again, Pops spoke the truth. Refusing to join them would be both ungracious and cowardly. She retrieved her coffee, a carafe of orange juice and three glasses, stalling, she admitted, before returning to the table.

She had no appetite. How could she when awareness of Gavin made her jittery? Russell had never made her uncomfortable. He’d been dynamic and exciting, but he’d never made her feel crowded, breathless or restless.

She forced down a pancake without tasting a bite. She’d almost finished when Pops pulled his checkbook from his back pocket. She smiled at his old-fashioned gesture. Almost everyone she knew used debit or credit cards these days. No one wrote paper checks anymore—except Pops.

“Pops, I can charge our purchase to the inn’s card.”

“Don’t trust that electronic junk. Too many accounts get hacked.” He made the check out to the store and signed it, leaving the amount spaces blank, then tore it out of the book. She put down her fork to take it, but he passed the check to Gavin.

Tension snarled in Sabrina’s stomach, turning her fluffy pancake into a lead brick. How could Pops be so trusting to a virtual stranger? He’d literally handed Gavin a blank check.

It was up to her to make sure Pops’s trust was not abused. She wasn’t letting Gavin Jarrod out of her sight until this job was done and he crawled back under the rock from which he’d come.

Sabrina surreptitiously checked her watch, willing time to pass quickly.

“Relax and drink your coffee. The cashier said our order would be ready in an hour,” Gavin said from across the table.

She pleated her paper napkin. “I’ve never known them to take so long to pull an order.”

“They only have one guy licensed to drive a forklift working today. Are you sure you don’t want something to eat? You barely touched your breakfast.”

“I’m fine.” With her nerves already stretched to the breaking point, the last thing she needed was more caffeine. As for eating…no way. Her stomach churned like the cement mixer rattling the diner’s windows as it thundered down the street.

Gavin’s calmness only agitated her more. But then he was getting his way. “Dragging me to a restaurant has been your goal all along. Congratulations. You’ve succeeded.”

“And the enthralled expression on your face will make every woman on the sidewalk want my phone number.”

His dry sarcasm made her lips twitch. She wasn’t going to like him. No way. Not after the past hour.

In a store as large as the one they’d just left, how could there have been such a shortage of space that she and her unwanted shopping partner had repeatedly made contact? But they had. Their hands had bumped over banisters and their hips by the hedge trimmers. Every time she’d turned around he’d been in her personal space, crowding her and not giving an inch.

Her pulse hadn’t been in the normal range since she’d climbed into his cramped truck cab, and she’d gasped so many times while shopping that anyone who didn’t know her would think she had a chronic lung condition.

How could she get rid of him and still protect Pops? She traced the lip of her mug, then glanced at Gavin. His attention seemed riveted to the movement of her finger, and then abruptly shifted to her face. The impact of his dark gaze swept her into an out-of-control, lighter-than-air feeling that made no sense considering she was sitting in a diner in the middle of downtown Aspen. But she felt as if her parasail had suddenly been caught by a strong gust and she’d been lifted off her snowboard, off solid ground and carried up the mountain.

She snatched her hands from the table and gripped the booth’s bench waiting for her breathlessness to ease. She scrambled to find a rational thought. “Did you have to order top-of-the-line everything?”

“The more expensive products have better warranties. If you have problems the replacements are free.”

That much was true. But still…the total of the supply bill had been about twenty percent higher than she’d anticipated. Luckily, she’d balanced the checkbook last night and knew the account had enough to cover the amount. The inn wasn’t hurting financially yet despite some zero occupancy days, but it was the principle of Gavin being so free with someone else’s money that bothered her.

She sipped her unwanted coffee, grudgingly admitting the brew he’d made this morning was better than the trendy diner’s—maybe even better than hers, and she prided herself on making great coffee for the inn’s guests.

So the man made decent coffee. Big deal. That wasn’t a reason to keep him around.

“What do you want from my grandfather?”

“I told you. The mine and the acreage surrounding it.” He sounded sincere, but the way his eyes turned guarded and he tensed ever so slightly contradicted his words.

With almost fifty years between him and Pops, the men’s sudden friendship seemed unnatural and calculated. Gavin had to be up to something. That blank check he’d managed to get from Pops spoke volumes. There had to be more. She just didn’t know what yet, and the only way to figure out his agenda was to get to know him better. Not a project she relished.

What made Gavin Jarrod tick? “Where do you live when you’re not here?”

“I divide most of my time between Vegas and Atlanta.”

“Why two such different places?”

“Because Vegas is where my brother’s hotel is located and Atlanta is close enough to the Appalachian Mountains for hiking and river rafting and has a major airport hub.”

“You’re an outdoorsman?” The breadth of his shoulders implied as much.

“Yes.”

“A hunter?”

“I shoot nature with a camera these days, although I have nothing against putting food on the table through hunting.”

Good answer. She’d have to find something else to dislike about him—other than that he was rich, he’d forced his company on her and she didn’t trust him. As if that weren’t enough.

“What makes you think you’re qualified to be our handyman? Aren’t construction engineers pencil pushers?”

“I’m a hands-on manager. I work with my team, and I worked part-time construction jobs during college.”

He worked construction? That might explain the faded scars on the backs of his hands. So much for proving him unqualified for the job. “Didn’t your father pay your bills?”

“He paid tuition, and for that I had to come back and work at The Ridge every summer. But during the academic year I earned my own wages rather than answer to him on how I spent my money.”

So maybe Gavin hadn’t lacked responsibilities the way so many of her parents’ wealthy students had. “Why engineering?”

“I like figuring out how things work and finding ways around obstacles that others consider impossible. What about you?”

She startled. “What about me?”

“Did you always want to manage the inn?”

She bit her tongue on the automatic no. In high school all she’d cared about was getting as far away from her parents and their stilted, judgmental university community as she could. She’d had no grand goals beyond escaping. Initially, she’d been drawn to Russell because he’d been everything academics were not—big, brawny, into action more than higher learning. He also wanted out of their small college town, and he’d had a plan to achieve his getaway.

She’d fallen head over heels in love with him and ended up pregnant. Her parents’ ultimatum—terminate the pregnancy or get out of their house—had left her with no choice. She and Russell had eloped on her eighteenth birthday—just days after her high school graduation. She’d planned to be a good military wife and raise Russell’s babies. But that hadn’t happened.

She pressed a hand to the empty ache in her belly, then blinked to chase away the past. “Does it matter? I’m where I’m needed right now, and I’ll never let my grandfather down. Nor will I let anyone take advantage of him.”

“What would you do if your grandfather sold the business?”

Alarm raced over her. She’d come to love making a warm, welcoming home away from home for their visitors, the way her grandmother had always done for her. She couldn’t imagine doing anything else now, nor did she have the qualifications for anything else. “He wouldn’t do that. He knows I love Snowberry Inn.”

Pops knew the inn was her refuge, the one place she’d always felt wanted and loved regardless of her choices. But she’d seen that blasted pamphlet and she had her doubts. However, she wasn’t giving Gavin Jarrod that information.

His brown eyes searched her face. “What if you marry someone who lives elsewhere?”

“I won’t.”

“You sound certain.”

“I am.” She’d done that before, and during her four-year marriage she hadn’t seen Snowberry Inn or her grandparents. Russell had been stationed in North Carolina, too far from Aspen to drive the distance in their old car, and she’d been too proud to tell her grandparents she couldn’t afford the airfare for a visit. During that time her grandmother had died, and Sabrina hadn’t been able to say good-bye. She’d had to borrow money from Russell’s friends to come to the funeral because her own parents wouldn’t loan it to her.

Time to change the subject. “Why did you leave Aspen?”

His face hardened. “My father was determined to turn us into clones of himself.”

“And that was a bad thing?”

“Yes. He was excessively controlling. But I escaped. We all did. Until now.” Anger flattened his lips into a thin line.

Demanding parents and a desire to escape were two things they had in common. Her perfectionist parents had never forgiven her for failing to meet their standards. They’d considered her an embarrassment and she hadn’t spoken to them in years.

But this wasn’t about her. “What about your mother?”

He focused on the mug cradled in his big hands. “She died from cancer when I was four. I barely remember her.”

Her mother may not have been the milk-and-cookies type, but she’d always been there at least physically…until Sabrina had needed her the most. “I’m sorry.”

“It happens. If we finish the repairs on time you’ll have a few days to relax before your guests arrive. What will you do with the time?”

Relax? What was that? She’d been so busy doing her job and picking up Pops’s slack that she couldn’t remember the last day off she’d had. She shrugged. “I don’t know. I used to ride horses on the trails, but—”

She bit off the thought. She didn’t want to imply the inn wasn’t financially secure to a shark like Gavin. Besides, her hobbies were none of his business.

“I didn’t see any horses.”

Busted. “Pops sold them after my grandmother died because they were too much work for him to manage alone and they reminded him of her.”

“We have horses at The Ridge.”

They had everything at the resort. “Goody for you.”

“That was an invitation, not a boast. If you want to ride I’ll take you.”

Tempting—except for the part about having to endure his company. The man irritated her like a blister forming on her heel halfway through a long hike. She just knew he wasn’t going to get better as time passed. “Thanks, but no.”

She had to get out of there and away from him even if all she did was freeze her fanny off with an hour of window shopping. The waitress provided an opportunity when she strolled by with the coffeepot. Sabrina caught her attention with a wave. “Excuse me, could I get the check, please?”

“Sure.” The woman peeled off the ticket and laid it on the table.

Sabrina reached for the bill, but Gavin moved a split-second faster. Her hand landed on the back of his. The contact uncorked something in the pit of her stomach, releasing a flood of fizzy heat that gushed through her like froth from an ineptly opened bottle of champagne.

She snatched back her hand, severing the connection, but her palm continued tingling, and her body bubbled with excitement she never expected or wanted to experience again. “Hey, I was going to pay that.”

He shook his head. “I’ll get the coffee. It’s the least I can do considering you’re going to be feeding me three meals a day for the next three weeks.”

Horrified, she stared into his dark eyes in dismay. “Says who?”

“Henry. He actually offered me room and board, but I already have a place to stay.”

Thank God for small favors. “I’m sure the food will be more to your liking at Jarrod Ridge.”

“I’ve been eating gourmet food for months. It’s time for a change. I’m looking forward to your good home cooking.”

At that moment she didn’t like her grandfather very much. What had he gotten her into?

Five

Caldwell’s old bones had been right, Gavin concluded as a cold gust of wind cut through his turtleneck, chilling the sweat he’d worked up while unloading the building supplies from the truck bed.

He monitored Sabrina’s progress as she carefully picked her way down the brick sidewalk through the snow that had begun feathering down five minutes ago. The stubborn woman had insisted on helping him empty the truck despite the worsening weather. And while he admired her grit, as Henry called it, Gavin didn’t want her doing any heavy lifting or slipping and cutting herself on the pane of glass she carried toward the porch. If that made him a male chauvinist too bad.

After he stacked the last two gallons of paint inside the storage closet he grabbed his coat from the railing where he’d tossed it then let himself into the warmth of the cozy, good-smelling kitchen. The kitchen at Jarrod Manor had never had this welcoming atmosphere.

The glass pane lay on the table, still in its brown paper wrapper, but there was no sign of Sabrina. He caught the tap of her boots down the hall as he hung his coat on a peg by the back door, shed his gloves and mentally shuffled the chore list. Having weather change a timeline on a job was nothing unusual for him, but usually there were tens of thousands of dollars in penalties at stake. This time the delay was a reward rather than a punishment because it worked in his favor.

Sabrina returned. “Pops is napping.”

Her discarded knit cap had ruffled her curls, giving her a sultry, just-out-of-bed look that contrasted with her reserved expression. She’d shed her outerwear giving him another chance to appreciate her lean curves in a body-skimming sweater, this one a pale blue that accentuated her eyes. Her gaze met his and he experienced a now-familiar punch to the solar plexus.

“Go home, Gavin. We can’t work in the snow.”

She wasn’t getting rid of him that easily. If the only thing they had going for them was chemistry, then he intended to exploit it shamelessly to get what he wanted. “We can’t paint when it’s snowing. I’ll start with replacing the window.”

Her breath hitched. Wrapping her arms around her middle, she briefly glanced away. “That can wait.”

“It’s the quickest job on the list, and with the temperature dropping it makes sense to fix the broken glass rather than lose heat. Show me which room.”

She pinched her bottom lip between her teeth and shifted on her feet. “Pops can do it. Or you can tell me how and I will. It’s something I need to know anyway.”

“It’s easier to show you. Sabrina, I’m here to work. I can either get on with it, or I can spend the afternoon sitting in the kitchen watching you cook and waiting for the weather to clear enough for me to tackle another job.”

Wide-eyed horror morphed into resignation in her features. “This way.”

He’d never encountered anyone so determined not to like him, and he had to admit the novel experience wasn’t an enjoyable one. He picked up the glass, points and glazing compound and shadowed her down the hall instead of upstairs as he’d expected. He took the opportunity to enjoy the angry sway of her hips. She had a nice butt—slender, but with just enough meat on it for a man to grip.

She paused, puffed out a breath and then pushed open a door and motioned him to go ahead. He stepped through the doorway. A subtle, but unmistakably familiar scent filled his nose and stopped him in his tracks. Sabrina’s cinnamon, vanilla and flowers scent. This wasn’t a guest room.

“This is your room,” he stated.

“Yes.”

His attention shot to the bed—a bed they would share in the near future because, damn it, he would not fail. He couldn’t wait to see her hair spread across those pristine white pillows and feel her naked body against his beneath the old-fashioned quilt. He might even shove one of those prissy lace pillows under her shapely behind to improve the angle when he drove into her. The pressure in his groin increased and his pulse pounded in his temple.

He exhaled and examined the rest of the space, searching for clues about his mysterious bride-to-be. The furnishings were traditional and uncluttered, but feminine nonetheless with white painted furniture and a mostly white décor dotted with pastel shades. The only thing that didn’t fit the pale color scheme was the U.S. flag in its triangular glass and dark cherry wooden case sitting on a desk in the corner.

He wouldn’t have pegged her as the patriotic type.

A picture frame rested on each bedside table. Henry and a woman, presumably Colleen, smiled in the photo Gavin could see from his position by the door. The angle of the other concealed the subject. Intent on seeing who else Sabrina kept by her bed when she slept, he stepped deeper into the room.

Sabrina moved between him and his goal. “The broken window is in my bathroom. That way.”

Rather than reveal his curiosity, he headed in the direction she indicated. She followed him. Her bathroom seemed to shrink in size with the pair of them in it. They stood within touching distance, and he was tempted to reach out and stroke the smooth, flushed skin of her cheek. But she seemed on edge. There was a time to make a push for the finish line and a time to maintain the current pace. This was the latter.

Rather than moving in for kiss number two prematurely and risking spooking her, he scanned the work space. A white claw-foot tub with brass feet sat in one end of the room. His mind instantly filled with images of Sabrina naked and wet with her damp dark curls streaming over the rounded tub edge as she waited for him there. His heart pumped faster.

Hoping to derail the train of heat steaming south, he averted his gaze to the vanity which, like her bedroom, lacked the clutter of makeup, perfumes, toiletries and junk the women he’d known in the past deemed necessary for life.

She pointed to the window. “I’m not sure what broke the glass. A bird, maybe. I didn’t find one outside.”

A diagonal line, patched with wide clear tape, split the pane. But her rushed speech interested him more than the cracked glass. Why was she so uneasy around him if not for the sexual chemistry? She might deny it, but she felt it.

“Should be a simple repair. I’ll talk you through it.”

She backed a quick step. “No. Go ahead. I’ll leave you to it.”

He caught her hand and she gasped. “I thought you wanted to learn how?”

Her gaze flicked to his, then away. A line formed between her brows. She tugged at her hand and he let her smooth fingers slide through his. The rose of her cheeks darkened. “I—I need to start lunch.”

“This will only take a few minutes. We can remove the sash and work inside rather than tackle the job from outside. It will take a couple of extra steps, but you can handle them.”

“I’ll learn another time, and I’ll close the door to keep the cold air from sweeping into more than this room.” She left hurriedly, the door snapping close behind her.

More curious now than ever, Gavin let her go. There was no doubt his touch affected her as strongly as hers did him, but she was resisting. The question was why?

He quickly finished the simple job, then gathered the broken glass and tools and returned to her bedroom, determined to see whose face she looked at when she laid in bed.

The photo frame was gone. Sabrina must have moved it.

What did she have to hide? It was imperative that he uncover her secrets and get on with his plan.

Sabrina tried to be as quiet as possible while washing the lunch dishes, but no matter how hard she strained, the men’s voices didn’t carry clearly enough from the living room for her to make out their words.

Eavesdropping! How low was she going to have to go to get rid of Gavin Jarrod?

She shouldn’t leave Pops alone with him, but until she made sense of her jumbled thoughts, she had no choice, and washing up was her first break away from Gavin’s intense scrutiny since he’d returned from fixing her window.

Having him in her bedroom had felt like an invasion—but in an agitating way, not a repulsive one. Her skin had flushed and her pulse and respiratory rates had increased.

Only because you haven’t had any man other than Pops in your bedroom since Russell.

Right. She’d been uncomfortable, not anything else. She definitely had not been turned on.

When Gavin’s gaze had looked toward the flag, then moved on to Russell’s picture, shock quickly followed by panic had seized and chilled her. She used to end each day looking at the flag and remembering her husband had been willing to die for a cause he’d passionately believed in. Every night before she’d closed her eyes she’d told the image of Russell’s beloved face good-night.

When had she stopped? She couldn’t remember.

Guilt poured over her. Shaken and weak, she’d hidden the photograph because she couldn’t bear Gavin asking about Russell. And he would, the nosy bastard. She hated that she’d been so rattled she hadn’t even been able to stay and learn basic window repair. How could she take care of the inn if she didn’t tough it out?

And then Gavin had watched her throughout lunch with that wolf-like predator’s awareness of his. Her nerves had stretched to almost the breaking point as she’d waited for him to voice the questions in his eyes and rip the scabs off barely healed wounds. But he hadn’t. Instead he and Pops had discussed the dam Gavin had built in Namibia. If she’d been less tense she would have been fascinated by the stories Gavin told of his adventures. He’d worked in places she’d only dreamed of seeing and done things she couldn’t even begin to fathom. It must be amazing to look up at a massive dam or bridge and know you’d had a part in its creation.

Pops shuffled into the kitchen, followed by Gavin. The men headed for the coatrack.

She quickly dried her hands. “Where are you going?”

“Henry wants me to take him to the mine,” Gavin answered.

No. “But it’s snowing.”

“It stopped an hour ago and we checked weather radar. The next band of snow won’t move through for a couple of hours.” Gavin helped Pops with his coat.

She scrambled for excuses. “The ground will be slick.”

“I’ll drive him as close to the mine entrance as possible,” Gavin replied in a deep, patient tone that made her want to scream. “With the forecast we have we won’t be able to make the trip later in the week.”

If she couldn’t make the lug head see reason, she’d work on Pops. She turned to her grandfather. “What about your aches?”

“They’ve eased a might since my nap. The exercise will do me good. Might even loosen me up.”

She couldn’t let them go alone. Gavin had already gotten a promise to sell land and a blank check. No telling what else he would wheedle out of Pops. “I’ll go with you.”

“We’re taking the pickup,” Gavin warned.

She smothered a grimace. That would put her in the sandwiched-between-two-men position she’d fought so hard to avoid this morning. “Fine.”

Gavin held out her coat, leaving her no choice but to turn her back and let him assist her. She shoved her arms into the sleeves and before she could step away he scooped his hands under her hair to pull it free of her collar. His fingertips grazed her nape. A shiver of awareness trickled down her spine.

Startled, she jumped out of reach. She was not attracted to him. Absolutely not. She wouldn’t let herself be. She had too many good reasons to dislike and distrust him.

“Pops, wouldn’t you prefer your beaver hat?”

“B’lieve I would.” He shuffled toward his bedroom.

Sabrina waited until he was out of earshot, then scowled at Gavin. “The climb will be too much for him.”

“He can handle it if I take it slow and stop to show him points of interest along the trail.” He kept his voice at the same low volume as hers.

“Gavin—”

“He needs to do this and you need to let him.” His firm I’m-the-boss tone warned her not to argue. But that wasn’t going to stop her from trying to protect Pops.

“He doesn’t have to do it today. He can wait until it’s warmer.”

“Today is the anniversary of the day he and your grandmother carved their initials into the beam. He claims it’s the last time they were happy together before her pancreatic cancer was diagnosed. He wanted to go alone, but I insisted on tagging along.”

Sabrina’s heart clenched and her anger deflated. Could Gavin be a complete ass if he were this considerate of Pops?

“I didn’t know about the anniversary. He’s never said anything before. In fact, they never told us about the diagnosis until close to the end. I guess I should thank you for insisting on going.”

He snagged her knit cap from the peg and tugged it over her head. The intimate gesture startled her and made her chest tight, but she couldn’t move away since he still gripped her cap.

“Sabrina, I like your grandfather. You have nothing to fear from me as far as he’s concerned.”

Gavin looked and sounded sincere—and she wanted to believe him—but there was too much at stake to risk being wrong. “You’d better not be lying.”

“I don’t lie.” He slowly trailed his knuckles down her neck and then his palms over her shoulders, her arms. His fingertips raked along the back of hers, making her jump at the jolt. Static electricity. That’s all it is. He ended the contact seconds before Pops entered the kitchen.

With her pulse banging wildly in her ears, she trailed the men to the truck and reluctantly climbed into the middle of the bench seat. Gavin slid in beside her. His big body pressed hers from knee to shoulder and not even several layers of clothing could block the heat radiating from him. Her skin tingled. Her heart skipped. Awareness pooled in the pit of her stomach, heavy and hot. She wanted out of this vehicle, and yet she couldn’t avoid this excursion and still protect Pop.

Time seemed to crawl as they crossed the valley and ascended the ridge with each bump in the road making her burn from the friction of Gavin’s hard male body chafing against hers. Relief surged through her when Gavin finally parked the truck. She jumped out of the cramped cab as soon as Pops was out of her way and took a deep, sobering breath. But a nagging part of her noticed and missed the warmth Gavin had provided.

Gavin took a different path than the one he’d hiked with her last time. They hadn’t gone a hundred yards before she noticed her grandfather’s raspy, rapid breathing. Before she could say anything Gavin stopped. “This is the best view of the valley. If I ever decided to return to Aspen for good, I’d build a house here.”

Pops leaned against a rock. “You could be right. I can see the inn and Colleen’s favorite spot by the river.”

The sadness in Pops’s voice tugged at Sabrina’s heart. She hooked her hands through Pops’s elbow, offering support. She ached over losing Russell, but she’d only had him for a fraction of the time her grandparents had been together. How would it feel to lose someone who’d shared almost a lifetime with you? She didn’t want to know because she didn’t think she could survive it. Would she always ache for Russell the way her grandfather did for her grandmother?

The old anger stirred. She only half-listened as the men made small talk about the city’s history as if they’d known each other for years. She’d wanted the rest of her life with Russell and she’d been robbed of it. He’d sacrificed his life so others could return to their wives. He’d chosen his men over her.

When Pops caught his breath, Gavin continued up the path only to stop again at the first sign of Pops struggling and point out some odd rock formation. She was both impressed and appalled at the smooth way Gavin manipulated her grandfather. This consideration was the last thing she’d expected of him, and if he hadn’t warned her what he’d planned she never would have guessed each pause in their trek was deliberate and not incidental. But that he did so without giving a clue to his motive worried her. How else could he fool her—and Pops?

When they finally reached the clearing her grandfather tramped ahead of them toward the mine entrance.

She held back with Gavin. “That wasn’t the way you brought me the other day.”

“You could handle a more strenuous ascent.”

The rat bastard. “You had me huffing and puffing and sweating just for fun?”

“The tougher trail is more picturesque, but I doubt Henry could handle it.”

He was right on both counts. Her anger died quickly. She turned to follow her grandfather. Gavin’s big hand curled around hers holding her back and making her wish she’d taken time to put on her gloves.

“Give him a few minutes alone.”

He had to stop touching her. Each time he did, something inside her fanned an ember she didn’t want rekindled. She tried to pull free, but he held fast and stuffed his hand, along with hers, in his coat pocket. His body emitted heat like a roaring fire. “You left your gloves in the truck. Your hands are cold.”

So she had. “I can get them.”

“No need. We won’t be here that long.” His fingers laced through hers, pressing her knuckles against his abdomen and narrowing her focus to his flesh against hers, his calluses against her palm, his height looming over her. “Who hurt you, Sabrina? Who made you so wary?”

Her breath caught. “No one. No one hurt me. I’m fine.”

“Yes, you are fine, quite beautiful, in fact.” The words should have sounded like a cheesy pick up line, but the sincerity in his eyes held her transfixed. He lifted his free hand and stroked her cheek. Despite the cold, she felt flushed and too hot in her down coat. His proximity messed with her head, making her slightly dizzy. Tension stretched between them.

Back away.

But then his gaze dropped to her mouth and it was as if her feet had grown roots anchoring them in the hard ground. Her stomach fluttered. He bent and she gasped in surprise, then his lips settled over hers with a brush, a nudge, a sip. The heat of his tongue swept her bottom lip and a shower of sparks rained over her. He cradled her head in his palm, holding her captive as he ravaged her mouth with hot, hungry kisses.

She needed to push him away, but he tasted so good, like the mint chocolate chip cookies she’d served for dessert and like…Gavin. She didn’t mean to kiss him back. But somehow, her tongue twined with his. Somehow she moved closer until his hard chest supported her. He released the hand he held captive in his pocket to wrap an arm around her waist and pull her even closer.

Excitement coursed through her, making her feel alive and womanly and desirable—a trio she hadn’t experienced in far too long. A combination that had brought her nothing but pain. A sobering chill rushed over her.

She jerked free, backing up one step, two. Her heavy breaths fogged the air between them. “I don’t want you to do that again.”

“When was your divorce final?”

The question blindsided her. “I’m not divorced.”

His eyes narrowed. He lifted her hand. “But you’re not still married. You don’t wear a ring.”

She yanked her hand free and debated telling him to mind his own business. But maybe a dose of the truth would scare him away. “My husband was an army medic. A hero who died saving his team in combat.”

Gavin’s jaw shifted. “That was his funeral flag on your desk and his picture on the nightstand.”

“Yes.”

“How long ago?”

“Three years.”

“And you’re not over him.”

“I’ll never be over him, Gavin. You never forget a love like that.”

“You can’t move forward when you’re living in the past, Sabrina.”

“Maybe I don’t want to move forward.” Because forgetting the past meant opening her heart to that crushing pain again.

He was competing against a damned saint, Gavin realized. No wonder Caldwell had to bribe someone to woo his granddaughter. The old geezer had deliberately set an unattainable goal. Had Henry known all along that Gavin didn’t stand a chance of winning?

The hell you don’t.

Gavin wanted Sabrina more than ever—not just for the mine or because he liked her protective lioness attitude toward Henry, but because the passion she ignited inside him promised to be stronger than any he’d experienced before. Convincing her to test that passion would be a challenge, but he liked nothing better than tackling obstacles. He’d built his professional reputation on making a success out of projects others deemed impossible.

Peeling off his gloves, he stomped the light dusting of snow off his boots and knocked on the kitchen door Thursday morning. Caldwell opened the door and glanced past him. “Bringing out the big guns, ain’t you?”

“Yessir.”

“C’mon in and pour yourself a cup of coffee. Sabrina will be in momentarily.”

“Thanks, but I have a thermos of coffee in the carriage along with breakfast. I hope you don’t mind if I kidnap her for an hour or two.”

Henry raised his mug and smirked. “Good luck with that.”

“You could have warned me about her husband.”

“And have you quit before you started? Now that would spoil the fun, wouldn’t it?” The old man’s eyes twinkled with mischief.

“Glad I can entertain you.”

Sabrina’s soft tread carried down the hall. Gavin saw her before she spotted him. The softness of her face before her expression turned guarded had his heart slamming hard against his rib cage. Sabrina Taylor was definitely worth the battle.

She glanced from him to her grandfather and back, her wariness palpable. “Good morning.”

“Gavin here has a surprise for you.”

“What?” Suspicion laced the word and narrowed her eyes.

“A carriage ride,” Gavin told her.

Her lips parted. Interest flickered across her face before she shut it down. “It’s snowing.”

“It’s barely coming down. I have blankets, coffee and breakfast waiting in the rig.”

She brushed past him, heading for the window. The gentle bump of their shoulders aroused him like a damned schoolboy getting his first peep at a girl’s panties. If he ever— When he got her into bed, they were going to generate enough heat to melt the snowcaps surrounding the valley.

She looked over her shoulder at him. Excitement pinked her cheeks and sparkled in her baby blues. “I shouldn’t. Pops—”

“Go on, girlie. I’ll be fine for a few hours. We both know how much you miss the horses.”

Biting her lip, she hesitated. Outside the horses shifted and the tinkle of sleigh bells carried inside. He could feel her excitement, sense her indecision, and decided to give her a nudge. “If you want to see the sun rise over the mountains we need to leave now.”

“Go, Sabrina, before the road gets slick. He’s got wheels on the thing, not runners. Time’s a-wastin’.”

Gavin observed her changing expressions, and it was a toss-up whether he’d win or lose this round. He’d never met a woman more difficult to decipher.

She huffed out a breath. “Just a quick ride.”

Victory pumped through his veins. One step closer to his goal.

Six

She needed to end this Christmas card moment now, Sabrina decided as the carriage turned the corner and the inn came into view. But telling herself to snap out of the romantic fantasy Gavin had created with his horse-drawn tour of the city at sunrise and doing it were two different things. She adored horses and buggy rides—thanks to her grandmother.

Warm and toasty despite the frosty temperatures, she snuggled deeper into the fur blankets. Gavin had plied her with hot coffee, fresh beignets and stories about growing up in Aspen, and sometime during the past hour the steady clip-clop of the horses’ hooves and the quiet tinkling of the bells on their harnesses had combined with the light drifting snow and the crisp start of a new day to blur the line between reality and fantasy.

“You have good hands,” she offered grudgingly.

He shot her a look filled with sexual intent and the fire in his dark eyes nearly roasted her.

She gulped. “I meant you’re good at this carriage-driving thing. Your grip is steady but firm on the reins. My grandmother always said good hands were the mark of a good horseman.”

“My father made us work a variety of jobs. I drove the carriages when I had the chance.”

“What other jobs did you have?”

“We did whatever needed doing. Dad wanted us to learn the resort business from the bottom up.”

Once again, Gavin blew her preconceptions out of the water. Could he truly be that different from the spoiled men who’d attended the college where her parents taught? “You were good with Pops yesterday. How did you know how to handle the situation? Every time I try to talk to him about Grandma he gets ornery.”

“I’ve learned from experience with friends and co-workers who’ve lost loved ones to listen if they want to talk and give them space and privacy to grieve when they need it. Men don’t like to share their tears.”

When he said insightful things like that it was difficult to believe he was scheming to steal the inn from Pops. In fact, at the moment she actually liked Gavin. And that wasn’t good. Her guard was down, and she needed to keep a clear head around him. Being with him threatened the inner peace she’d fought so hard to find. But as long as they stayed out in the open nothing could happen.

He guided the horses into the inn’s driveway and then steered the carriage toward the barn. She straightened, letting the fur blanket slip. “Where are you going?”

“Henry’s letting me keep the horses in your barn while I’m working here. This pair is good for riding as well as pulling the carriage. You miss riding. So do I. We’ll ride together.”

No. No. No. “I don’t have time to ride.”

“You have to make time for the things that matter. Besides, Henry likes watching you. He says you and your grandmother rode together.”

Making it a request from Pops made it impossible to refuse. “She’s the one who taught me to ride. Her horses were her babies.”

He climbed from the carriage and opened the barn’s double doors then returned. The coach rocked as he resettled himself in the seat, his body nudging hers and bumping her heart rate right off the charts, then he clucked to the mares, driving them inside.

The barn smelled different. Instead of dust and disuse, Sabrina smelled fresh hay, shavings and oats. She scanned the stalls as she descended. Two of the four had been prepared. “When did you do this?”

Gavin made closing the heavy sliding doors look easy when she knew it was anything but. She grunted and groaned and had to put her entire body weight into it when she opened them. “Henry and I cleaned up after we returned from the mine.”

She’d wondered where the men had gone. “Usually Pops naps in the afternoon.”

“He naps because he has no sense of purpose. He needs to feel useful,” he said as he began unhitching the harness from the horses.

Without the pale sunlight the shadowy interior created an intimacy she didn’t want—not while she battled this push-pull thing between them. “But the inn’s chore list—”

“Is beyond his capabilities at the moment. He’s not ready to admit it yet.” One corner of his mouth lifted in a half smile that made her stomach flutter.

“Mucking stalls is too much for him.”

“I had him clean the tack room while I did the heavy work.”

His consideration surprised her yet again. How could he be a swindler? She automatically helped him remove the tack from the horses. Her fingers fumbled with the once familiar task of slipping pliable leather through buckles. Gavin, she noted, did not fumble. After they finished and the gear had been hung on the wall, he handed her a brush. She caught herself watching him, specifically his hands, and unconsciously matching his rhythm as she stroked the bristles over the mare’s glossy hide.

Would his hands be as gentle on a woman?

She pushed the disturbing thought aside. Gavin was as good with the horses as he was with her grandfather. But was it an act? A means to an end? Or was he the real deal? Evidence said he was no stranger to hard work, but her years of experience with men of his ilk said otherwise.

She needed to focus on something besides his positive attributes. “So your twin brothers, Blake and Guy, are a year older than you, and Trevor is a year younger?”

“Yes.” He bent over to clean his horse’s hooves and her attention zeroed in on his backside. Tight, firm, with enough muscle development to keep it from being flat.

Gavin straightened. She pried her gaze away and kept it focused on the dust motes dancing in the murky light while he tended her horse’s hooves. Then he led the bay mare he’d been grooming into the first stall. She led the sorrel into the second and latched the door. The slurp of the horses at the water buckets broke the silence.

Sabrina cleared her throat. “Are you and your brothers close?”

He shrugged. “Close enough.”

“Then there’s Melissa and…Erica Prentice? But she’s not a Jarrod, right?”

“We share the same father, but he never acknowledged Erica when he was alive.”

The bitterness in his voice caught her attention. “Don’t you like her?”

“Erica’s nice enough.”

“But?”

He pitched the brushes into a caddy. “My father had an affair immediately after my mother died.”

“You think he forgot her, and you’re angry that he moved on.”

“I don’t care.”

But he did. It showed in every stiff line of his body as he carried the caddy and blankets to the tack room.

She followed him inside. The smell of Lexol brought back memories of spending hours in here cleaning and oiling saddles and bridles. A small window filled the room with diffused light.

“Gavin, maybe he simply needed someone to prove he hadn’t died with her.”

He dropped the blankets on the sofa. “Is that what you need? Someone to prove you didn’t die with your husband?”

The unexpected attack and resultant stab of pain made her flinch. “This isn’t about me.”

He closed the distance between them in two long strides. His dark gaze burned into hers. “I think it is. It’s about you being afraid to let go of the past.”

She shook her head as denial raced through her, quickly chased by a thrill of something exciting and energizing. She tried to squash the latter, but failed. Her heart raced and her palms tingled. “No. You’re wrong.”

“Not this time. Come out of hiding, Sabrina.” He cupped her shoulders, and before she could convince her feet to carry her out of trouble’s way, he bent and settled his mouth over hers.

His lips were warm, firm, sure. Persuasive. A response she couldn’t prevent streamed through her like a waterfall pouring over the mountains and crashing into her stomach, but instead of filling her veins with icy mountain water, a warm thermal spring bubbled in her veins.

Her brain and body worked against each other. One demanded she push him away. The other stubbornly held on tight. If her internal battle wasn’t enough, Gavin’s passionate embrace evoked so many long-suppressed memories. She’d forgotten the experience of having a man’s strong arms hold her tight, forgotten the heat of a muscle-packed body pressed against hers, and she’d forgotten how deliciously feminine the combination made her feel. But mostly she’d forgotten how it felt to crave more.

More deep kisses. More firm, but gentle hands buffing her body. More of this heady, dizzy, free-falling sensation that made her cling even tighter to him for fear of losing her balance.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not with him. Apparently she didn’t have to trust the man to desire him. He was attractive and she hadn’t had sex in a long time, so her reaction to him was probably just deprived hormones at work. But he and Pops were wrong. She wasn’t hiding. She wasn’t afraid.

She wanted Gavin Jarrod, she admitted as their tongues dueled. And what was wrong with that? What was wrong with wanting to experience hot, sweaty mind-numbing passion one more time? It didn’t have to mean anything. In fact, she wouldn’t let it mean anything. She’d already had a man who’d loved as ardently as he’d lived, and like her grandfather, she’d never settle for second-best.

Gavin’s hands skimmed her waist, her breasts, and her heart banged wildly. He lowered her coat’s zipper tooth by tooth. The rasp shattered the silence of the small room, then welcome cool air soothed her overheated skin. He parted her coat and spanned her rib cage, palms burning hot through her sweater as he stroked his thumbs back and forth beneath her breasts with breath-stealing effectiveness. The urge to press herself into his palms surged through her. It had been so long she almost didn’t recognize the bite of lust gnawing her middle.

And then his hands slipped under the hem of her sweater and his skin found hers. She jumped. The chilly air contrasting with the heat of his touch set her core on fire. Breaking the kiss, she threw her head back and gasped for breath, for sanity, for control. Her head spun. Her knees wobbled. His lips scorched a path from her cheek to her temple then down the side of her neck. Desire thundered over her like a storm coming over the mountains, rumbling with a strength she couldn’t remember experiencing before. But she must have. With Russell.

Was she making a mistake? Playing with fire? Taking on more than she could handle?

The heady rush caused by Gavin’s warm breath on her skin combined with the slick heat of his tongue teasing the sensitive spot behind her ear and his teeth grazing the cord of her neck provided her answer. She had to taste the passion, had to sample the need of a hungry man. She’d missed that feeling so much. Too much. She’d allow Gavin into her life long enough to take the edge off. But that was it. Nothing more. No promises. No long-term. Just this. Today.

She shoved Gavin’s coat off his shoulders. He whipped hers down her arms. Breathing heavily, he cupped her face, traced her jaw as if he were trying to slow down. Then he pressed his lips together, and with a rueful grimace shook his head and yanked her close.

The impact of his ravenous kiss robbed her breath, her balance, her reason. He kissed her as if he couldn’t get enough of her and a similar sensation swelled inside her. She clung to him. The hard length of his erection burned against her hips. Cool air swept her midsection, then he eased his upper torso away only far enough to whisk her sweater over her head. She had a moment to feel uncomfortable and exposed in her plain white bra before he ripped off his own shirt, and then her doubts vanished and her appreciation focused on him.

His chest was all male—wide shoulders, brawny pectorals, dark swirls of hair, tiny, puckered nipples, and hot, so, so hot to the touch. She dragged her fingertips down his sternum. Satisfaction rose in her when she left a crop of goose bumps in her wake. She pressed her cheek to his chest and inhaled deeply, filling her lungs with his masculine scent, then she licked his golden skin and tasted a slight tang of salt.

His breath hissed and his grip tightened on her waist as she licked across the tiny hard tip. A groan rumbled from his chest. “I like your mouth, your hands on me, Sabrina.”

Hot palms buffed her back, her waist and then he covered her breasts. He captured her gasp with his mouth, swallowed the Mmm of pleasure she couldn’t contain. She wanted, needed skin on skin. Her bra was in the way. She reached for the hooks in the middle of her back, but he beat her to them and dispensed with the garment. He cradled her aching breasts in his palms. His thumbs teased the tips, sending bolts of need straight to her center. Intense. Too intense.

She eased back to map the supple skin covering the ropy muscles of his shoulders, his thick biceps, his hard pectorals. She flicked her short nails over his beaded flesh then raked downward over his six-pack abs to his waistband.

He shuddered an inhalation, then swept her into his arms and carried her to the sofa where he laid her on top of the fur blankets before following her. His weight pinned her down and being trapped beneath him felt good. So good. She lightly raked his back and then his mouth found her breast. Hot. Wet. Slick. Pleasure bathed her as his tongue laved her, and she moaned. He sucked, nipped, rasped her with his chin stubble, and all she could do was struggle to control her growing urgency. Her legs shifted restlessly, trying to soothe the knot of nerves between them.

She ached to tear off the remainder of their clothing and fill the emptiness expanding in her belly. Her fingers tangled in his hair, holding him close. He worked his way down her midline until he reached the button of her jeans. He released it. The fabric gave way and the zipper parted letting in a kiss of cool air. He skimmed her pants and panties down her legs, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses in the fabric’s wake. Then her pants, boots and socks were gone.

She lay naked before him and she should have had second thoughts, but she didn’t, not with the way he devoured her with his eyes. She attributed the depth of her hunger to the length of time it had been since she’d allowed herself even a teensy sexual urge. Why else would this feel so right, so necessary? She reached for the fly of his jeans.

He covered her hands, pressing them to the ridge beneath his denim, groaned and then shook his head. “Not this time. I can’t handle it.”

She took comfort in knowing she wasn’t alone in her over-the-top response. He brushed her hands aside and quickly stripped. His body was long and lean, but corded with thick muscles. She wanted to stare, to map his contours with her fingertips, but she also wanted him on her, surrounding her, inside her. She lifted a hand to him, beckoning him. He rejoined her, pressing her into the soft blankets with his weight.

While his mouth consumed hers she palmed the muscles of his back, his buttocks, his strong thighs. He kissed and laved his way to her breasts, sucking, licking, nipping until she squirmed beneath him, impatient for more. Then he blazed a trail down her middle. Her muscles clenched in anticipation, and then he was there—his hot breath a prelude to the scalding sweep of his tongue. He found exactly the right spot instantly. How did he do that? Pleasure quivered through her, making her whimper, causing her to bow off the sofa and toward the mouth working magic on her body.

Tension built, adding more and more pressure until she cracked like a dam and an orgasm erupted though her in wave after wave of breathtaking release. It wasn’t enough. She’d waited so long for this. She needed more. Digging her fingers into his arms, she tugged him upward. He resisted, forcing one more breath-robbing climax on her before he rose above her, spread her legs and positioned himself. He paused.

Confused and gasping for air, she looked into his lust-darkened eyes. His passion was too intense. She lowered her lids. “Please, Gavin. Now.”

“Open your eyes,” he rumbled almost inaudibly.

Reluctantly, she did as he ordered. Once their gazes locked he eased into her, inch by inch, filling her, stretching her.

“You’re so wet.”

Having a lover talk was a new experience, and surprisingly it increased her arousal. He felt good. So good. And then he withdrew. She pulled him back again and again, chasing another climax with each thrust and withdrawal, feeling the heaviness build low in her belly and waiting, waiting for the explosion. When it hit, it hit hard, racking her body with spasms. “That’s it, baby. Squeeze me.”

She bit his shoulder to muffle her cry, and then before the aftershocks faded he groaned as he found his own release.

Gavin rested atop her, the majority of his weight braced on his forearms as she struggled to catch her breath and to still the quaking of her legs. His long, hot thighs burned against hers and his chest pressed hers with each rapid breath.

Reality slowly nudged fantasy aside. How had she and he come together so naturally when she and Russell had worked long and hard to achieve such satisfaction? Guilt settled heavily on her at the traitorous thought.

It’s only because you and Russell were inexperienced kids when you first made love. You and Gavin are experienced adults.

As she mentally withdrew from him she became aware of the soft furs tickling her back, the unheated air cooling her skin, the hot, damp man still buried deep inside her and the stickiness joining them.

Stickiness?

They hadn’t used a condom. Shock raced over her, quickly chased by panic. What had she done? She hadn’t simply answered a biological call as planned.

She’d made a mistake of potentially disastrous proportions—one that could have lifelong repercussions. She’d risked a pregnancy—something she’d sworn she’d never, ever do again.

Satiation and satisfaction blended in Gavin’s blood like a top-shelf cocktail. His heart pumped faster and yet his limbs felt weighted. His brain raced, searching for the next step in his plan to seduce Sabrina Taylor into marriage. But for some crazy-ass reason he was having trouble thinking about anything except the warm, soft woman beneath him, the hot, wet grip of her body and the smell of sex hanging in the air.

He ought to feel ashamed for enjoying the act as much as he had considering he was using her as a means to an end. But he didn’t because she’d enjoyed it as much as he had.

She stiffened beneath him, jarring him out of Shangri-la.

“That shouldn’t have happened.”

Not what a guy wanted to hear when he was still buried deep inside a woman. “With chemistry like ours it was inevitable.”

She squirmed as if trying to get free, and the slick slide of her body on his signaled his erection for an encore. “No. It wasn’t. I don’t do…this with men I barely know.”

“Good to know.” Marriage and more of this appealed more with each of her wiggles.

“Gavin, we didn’t use a condom.”

The statement rocked him, instantly dousing the smoldering embers of desire. He never neglected to practice safe sex. “My company requires physicals on a regular basis. I’m clean. You?”

Face flushing, she pushed against his chest, her fingers digging into his pectorals until he eased off her and sat beside her on the sofa. “Of course.”

“Good.” Without the warmth of her body pressed against his, the chill of the unheated tack room—and the woman beside him—penetrated his consciousness.

She sprang to her feet, frantically scooping up clothing and clutching the wad of fabric to her spectacular chest. Her breasts might not be large, but they were perfectly formed. A handful. A mouthful. The pink tips lured him ba—

“You’re ignoring the big picture. I’m not on the pill.”

Arousal once more derailed, he processed the bad news. Their union was supposed to be temporary. A baby was a long-term commitment—definitely not in the works for a rolling stone like him who didn’t know how to be a good father. “The odds of you conceiving from one encounter are slim. We’ll take precautions next time.”

“There won’t be a next time, and any chance is too big of a chance.” She tugged on her bra, concealing the breasts he hadn’t had enough of yet, then her shirt. Without the delicious distraction, he had to focus on her eyes—eyes filled with regret.

“We’ll deal with that situation if it arises.”

She bent to look for her panties and he shamelessly enjoyed the view of her long legs and tight, round butt. He couldn’t help reaching out and skimming his hand down her flank and savoring the satiny smoothness of her pale skin.

She jumped out of reach and spun around, shielding the dark triangle of curls between her legs with her jeans. “Stop that. And there is no ‘we.’ We have no future. You’re leaving Aspen. I’m not.”

Why did her words hit him like a punch in the gut? They were true. But admitting the truth could cost him everything.

She stabbed her legs into her jeans—sans panties, zipped and buttoned them. “And if any situation requires a decision it will be my decision. Not yours. I don’t want anything from you.”

It would be partly his decision if he married her. “Don’t expect me to walk away from a connection like ours without a fight.”

Panic widened her eyes even more. “There is no connection. It was just sex.”

“Great sex.”

She bowed her head and took a deep breath, then lifted her chin. Her eyes were hard, determined. “Look, Gavin, this was a mistake that won’t be repeated.”

Yes it would. Often, if he had his way. But not in an unheated barn. As much as he liked the way her nipples tightened from the cold and pushed against her shirt, he wanted her naked and spread across his Egyptian cotton sheets, warm and willing.

He rose and stepped closer to her, enjoying her quiet gasp of surprise. “Not repeating what we just shared would be the mistake.”

Her pupils dilated, her lips parted and her cheeks flushed. He could see the hunger in her eyes and waited for her to admit he was right, but instead she shook her head and backed away. “No. Pretending this never happened would be the wisest course of action. That’s what I intend to do. What we both should do.”

He couldn’t allow that to happen. He caught her face in his palm. Her body stilled and her expression turned wary. “There’s no way you can forget how good we are together. I guarantee it.”

She jerked her head out of his grasp and set her jaw at a stubborn angle. “Watch me.”

Seven

She might have been a little overconfident in her ability to ignore Gavin, Sabrina admitted Friday afternoon.

In the eight hours since they’d made lov—had sex, she hadn’t been able to get him out of her head. Thoughts of him lurked around corners of her mind, leaping out to startle her at inopportune moments. It didn’t help that he was rarely out of sight, and even when he was she could hear the low baritone of his voice as he talked to Pops.

Worse, she still smelled of him—of them—because she couldn’t sneak off to wash his scent away without making Pops question why she’d taken a second shower in the same day. And the seam of her jeans rubbed sensitive places—places that should be covered by panties, but weren’t since she hadn’t found hers and hadn’t wanted to linger in the barn to search.

How could she have become intimate with someone she’d only known four days? Shame burned her cheeks. That wasn’t like her. Russell had been her only lover, and it had taken three months and falling head over heels in love with him for him to talk her out of her clothes. Luckily, she’d figured out the guys before him had only wanted one thing from her—copies of her parents’ course exams—before she’d done more than heavy kissing and a little uncomfortable groping.

Footsteps approached—her grandfather’s soft shuffle followed by Gavin’s purposeful tread. Her spine snapped straight and her pulse went wacky. She wanted to run, but she wouldn’t give Gavin Jarrod the satisfaction of knowing she was uncomfortable around him.

Pops preceded Gavin into the kitchen. “I’m off, girlie.”

Alarm raced through her. “Off where? What about dinner?”

“I’m eating with my poker buddies.”

“But this isn’t your usual night, and I was about to grill steaks.” She couldn’t care less about the steaks. She didn’t want to be left alone with Gavin.

“Save mine for tomorrow. Horace is making his famous venison stew.”

“Why don’t you take Gavin with you? He might enjoy meeting your poker pals.”

“I’m not about to bring a card shark to the table. He’d steal the pot, and the boys would never forgive me. Good night. Don’t wait up.” Pops grabbed his coat and hat and let himself out the back door, leaving Sabrina staring after him in dismay.

Now what?

Get rid of Gavin, that’s what.

She delayed facing him until she absolutely couldn’t anymore, then turned. He leaned against the doorjamb, ankles and arms crossed, watching her. The wolf-like watchfulness and hunger in his eyes as his dark gaze rolled over her thickened her tongue and made the spot between her legs tingle.

She gulped. “You’re a card shark?”

He lifted one muscled shoulder. “When we’re stuck on a job and the weather’s not cooperating we sometimes kill the time with cards. I do okay.”

She shifted on her feet, searching for a way to rid herself of his company. “You have an evening off. Go home.”

“Not without my date.”

Her stomach swooped. Good. She was glad he had a date. She wanted him to bother some other woman and leave her alone. But that burn in her belly felt a lot like anger. How dare he romance her and then hours later turn to another woman while her scent still clung to his skin. But what had she expected? Hadn’t those spoiled college boys tried the same tricks? They’d flirted with her, plied her with beer neither she nor they had been legally old enough to drink, then they’d gone back to their girlfriends when she hadn’t given them what they wanted.

“I hope you have a nice time,” she forced through clenched, smiling teeth.

He moved closer, making her retreat until the counter bumped her spine. The look of intent on his face caused her legs to quiver. “We will. Grab whatever you need. Let’s go.”

She blinked in confusion, then when his meaning sank in panic prickled her skin. “We? Go where?”

He parked a hand on the counter on either side of her, effectively boxing her in. “We’re having dinner at my place.”

“Your place,” she parroted back and then could have kicked herself for sounding like an idiot.

“The lodge I’m using at Jarrod Ridge.”

No way. She folded her arms, intent on avoiding that trap and forcing a few inches between them. “I am not going to your place.”

“Would you rather your grandfather come back unexpectedly and catch us in bed?”

Her chest hurt. She realized it was because she’d forgotten to breathe. She inhaled shakily, hoping the oxygen would clear up her light-headedness and slow the rush of blood through her veins. It didn’t. “That’s not going to happen.”

He checked his watch, giving her just enough space to dodge out of reach. “The lobster, buttered asparagus, maple-glazed carrots and German chocolate cake will be delivered in an hour.”

Her favorites. Her mouth watered like one of Pavlov’s dogs’. “Pops has been talking.”

“You’re his favorite subject.”

She cringed. “I’m sorry you have to endure his ramblings.”

“I’m hanging on every word because pleasing you, pleases me.”

Oh, boy. The man personified testosterone in a turtleneck, and when he spoke in that low sexy growl she wanted to lap up everything he said like a dog in heat. Good thing she wasn’t that gullible.

“Come for dinner, Sabrina. If you can resist the pull between us I’ll bring you home—untouched—afterward. But if you can’t…” He dragged a knuckle down the side of her neck, making her shiver. “I’ll spend the rest of the night exploring every inch of you. First with my hands. Then with my mouth.”

Her knees melted. She clutched the counter for support. Shattered by the image he painted with his words, she shook her head, trying to clear it. “I’d rather have a quiet night. Alone.”

A smile of pure devilment curved his lips, and her heart flipped like a pancake on a hot griddle. “No, you wouldn’t. I can’t erase the taste of you or the feel of your skin from my mind. This morning was only an appetizer. I want more, and I’d bet my truck you’re fighting the same battle. You’ve watched me all day with the same hunger in your eyes that’s chewing up my insides.”

Could her skin possibly get any hotter? Her heart beat any faster? Had she ever been more tempted to throw caution to the winds and seize what he offered? No, no and no.

And then her panic subsided as quickly as it had risen and a sense of calm settled over her. Well, a sort of calm if you discounted the tremor racking her limbs and making a cold sweat bead on her upper lip.

Why couldn’t she accept his proposition? Why shouldn’t she enjoy a brief, temporary affair with Gavin? He was the perfect candidate to help her work the logjam of hormones from her system. He was rich, entitled, and even arrogant—qualities she would never find attractive. He’d be leaving Aspen as soon as he fulfilled the terms of his father’s will. It wasn’t as if she’d fall for someone who was counting the days until he could break free. Not when she understood how all-consuming that yearning to escape could be. It overrode everything, including reason.

An affair. Seven months of sex.

Excitement rippled through her, then waned. Her last affair—with Russell—had cost her so much. Her home. Her family. Her friends. And then when she’d lost her baby and hit rock-bottom she’d had no one to turn to because Russell had been deployed overseas. But that had been years ago. She wasn’t a naïve eighteen-year-old anymore. And her family, other than Pops, already acted as if she’d died.

What did she have to lose? Certainly not her heart. Not to a man like Gavin “His Family Owned Half the Valley” Jarrod.

It didn’t matter that he was handsome and hellaciously good at finding her pleasure points. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—love him. Not in this lifetime.

You have no idea how to have a no-strings affair.

But she could learn. She could learn anything if it meant finding a way to hold onto the inn and easing the discomfort Gavin had created.

But her grandfather could never find out. He wouldn’t approve.

“I’ll get my coat.”

The flash of victory in his eyes gave her pause, but she pushed it aside. She would not let this be a mistake.

Sabrina wiped her damp palms on her jeans and swallowed the lump of nerves rising to block her throat. “Black Spruce Lodge,” she read on the tastefully carved wooden sign outside the building. “Are all Jarrod Ridge’s lodges named after trees?”

“Yes,” Gavin said as he pulled the key card from his pocket.

From the outside the structure looked extremely rustic—like a miner’s cabin with its rough cedar siding and steep shingled roof—unless you paid attention to the details. Every element of the building’s design and landscaping had been intricately planned and cared for in a way that only those with a surplus of money could achieve. The windows gleamed like diamonds in the setting sun, and not even a trace of the snow that had fallen on and off during the day remained on the walk or front steps.

Gavin opened the door. “Come in.”

Said the spider to the fly. Her legs trembled as she climbed the steps.

The only way to conquer your fears is to face them.

Russell’s voice echoed in her head, startling her. She didn’t want to think about him now, didn’t want to remember his overlapped-tooth smile, his bravery or anything else about him when she had another man’s seed still deep in her womb and she was about to embark on something as sordid as a cheap, temporary, meaningless affair.

The urge to turn and run barreled into her chest like a runaway horse, but she gathered her flagging courage and crossed the threshold. Strangely, excitement intermingled with shame.

Gavin flicked a switch and a chandelier made from antlers and candelabra bulbs cast a cozy light over the large open space with its steep vaulted ceiling. “I’ll take your coat.”

Before she could protest he stood behind her, waiting to help her remove the garment. She reluctantly shrugged it off and hugged herself, not because she was cold, but because she was totally out of her element. How did one go about a tempestuous affair anyway?

After hanging their coats in the closet he crossed the room to light the logs stacked and waiting in the massive stone fireplace, giving her an opportunity to scan her surroundings. The lodge looked more like someone’s home than a temporary accommodation. Hardwood floors gleamed in every direction. One side of the rectangular room housed the kitchen and dining area, and on the other a pair of black leather sofas jutted perpendicular to the hearth. The walls on either side of the fireplace were made of glass, offering a breathtaking view of the mountains fading to a dusky pink as the sun set.

Black dominated the decor. Charcoal sketches graced the walls. She strolled closer to a rendition of an ice-covered lake and noted the artist’s signature—one she recognized from her trips to the many art galleries in downtown Aspen. An original. Translation: very expensive and not even remotely within her budget.

She turned a slow circle. The black marble vases flanking the mantel and the onyx-framed mirror hanging between them screamed money in an understated, elegant way. Ditto the knickknacks sparingly dotted along the flat surfaces. She’d seen enough of this type of art through exclusive shops’ windows to know the value.

She lifted an exquisitely carved wooden bear. Nope, it wasn’t nailed down, and yes, the artist’s initials had been burned into the bottom. No mass-produced decor here. She set the bear back on the polished surface. What hotel could afford to risk a guest tucking even one of these objects into his bag?

The fire popped, startling her and drawing her gaze back to the man watching her in silence. Gavin’s sensual expression made her shiver. Rubbing the goose bumps popping up on her arms, she glanced away and spotted a staircase. “What’s in the loft?”

“An office.”

“Are you working while you’re here?”

“I’m doing some consulting and preliminary work for future jobs. It’s not enough to keep me busy, but it staves off insanity.”

Another surprise. She’d expected him to enjoy his year of leisure. Oh, sure, he’d claimed he needed the handyman job because he was bored without work, but she hadn’t really believed him.

He crossed to a black slate-topped wet bar, pulled a bottle of white wine from the refrigerator, opened it and poured two glasses and brought one to her. “To our mutual pleasure.”

She gasped and nearly choked on her own saliva. Having him verbalize the purpose of this visit sent a jolt of adrenaline though her. He’d said he’d brought her here for dinner, but she knew better. One look at his eyes told her getting naked was on the agenda.

The chime of his rim tapping hers sounded light compared to her dark and dangerous thoughts. She tried to focus on something besides making lo—having sex on the white fur rug in front of the fire. But she couldn’t seem to shove that idea from her head now that it had burrowed into her brain.

Tonight was all about sex. Nothing more. Nothing less. Just physical pleasure with a man she didn’t particularly like but one who knew how to ring her bell.

She gulped her wine and tried to work up the courage to jump him and get it over with. Not happening. She licked her lips. “You said during the carriage ride that most of your siblings were staying in lodges or hotel rooms. How can the resort afford for so many of your family members to take up guest quarters?”

The twitch of his mouth told her he’d noted her change of subject. “Our budget can handle it, but I’ll move to the main house when the tourists arrive and we reach maximum occupancy. For now, I’m enjoying roughing it here.”

“Roughing it?” She snorted, touched a pewter horse statue and rolled her eyes. Three of her and Russell’s old military base apartments could fit into this great room alone, and there would be even more space in what she suspected were massive bedrooms through the archway on her right. One of which she’d probably see tonight. Her abdominal muscles contracted. She took another hearty swallow of wine. “You call living in the lap of luxury roughing it?”

“It is compared to living in the hotel where the concierge hovers, the maid comes by two or three times a day and you can have your own personal chef and wine steward serve a meal in your suite whenever you desire it. At Jarrod Manor every want is anticipated and provided for before I even make the request. Even my underwear gets ironed.”

Don’t think about his underwear.

That anyone could see having their needs taken care of as a nuisance astounded her. “I can’t imagine living that way.”

“Our guests demand it. Jarrod Ridge is known for pampering its clientele.”

“Moving away and leaving all this…assistance behind must have been difficult for you.”

“Not at all. It’s impossible to figure out who you are and what you want out of life when someone else is forcing you down his path, telling you who he expects you to be and making all your decisions for you.”

Again, she heard the bitterness and she understood it. She didn’t like having this in common with him. “Your father.”

He inclined his head.

“My parents did the same. They pressured me to follow in their footsteps and get multiple degrees. They couldn’t understand that college just wasn’t for me even though I scored high on all the entrance exams.”

“Why wasn’t college for you?”

She sipped her wine, trying to figure out why she’d just volunteered something she’d not shared with anyone before. Must be the liquor loosening her tongue. She wasn’t much of a drinker. “I don’t like taking classes. There’s too much reading and talking about stuff and not enough doing it.”

“You’re a hands-on learner. Nothing wrong with that.”

Something in her softened. She’d never had anybody understand her like that before. And how could he? He barely knew her. Even though her grandparents had emotionally supported her, they had assumed she was delaying college, not skipping it altogether. She’d eventually caved and taken several business classes to keep herself occupied during Russell’s deployments, but she’d hated being confined to a classroom. However, she was grateful for those classes now. They helped her manage the inn’s budget.

Gavin moved closer—close enough to touch. But she didn’t reach out. She wasn’t ready to take that step—the one that would end up with the two of them bare-skinned and against each other. But her belly clenched in anticipation of having him deep inside her.

“Let’s soak in the hot tub while we wait for dinner,” he said in that low rumbling jets-coming-over-the-mountain voice of his.

Her skin flushed hot and her gaze shot to the glass doors leading to a deck. “I didn’t bring a swimsuit.”

“You don’t need one. The tub is completely private.”

“But…what about the staff serving dinner?”

“They’ve been instructed to leave it in the kitchen.”

“I—I—” Planning to be bold and actually doing it were apparently two different things. And then she noted something out of place in Gavin’s perfect world. “There’s still snow on the deck. I’m surprised the grounds crew didn’t sweep it away like they did on the front walk.”

“I asked the staff to leave it. There’s nothing like sitting in a bubbling hot tub, surrounded by snow and staring up at a clear blue star-filled sky through the steam rising from the water.”

The man had a way with words.

“The stars aren’t out yet,” she replied hastily.

“True.”

“And more snow is predicted. Won’t it be too cloudy to see them?”

“So it will. You’re quite practical, aren’t you?”

She’d had to be. She’d run away from home on a romantic fantasy of love and collided with cold, harsh reality. While Russell had been off doing his job and supporting his country, she’d been home alone, trying to learn how to manage on a meager budget and hold onto what was left of their life together after she’d miscarried. Luckily, she’d had the guidance and support of a few experienced and big-hearted military wives to point her in the right direction.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be a wet blanket.”

Gavin set his glass on the table. “Sabrina, you have nothing to fear from me.”

Like she believed that. The moisture between her legs already proved she had plenty to fear. He had decimated her scruples this morning. And where were those scruples now? She was very tempted to take him up on his offer. To see those broad shoulders glistening wet in the moonlight. To feel those big callused hands rasping over her skin, on her breasts, between her legs. She’d barely been able to think of anything else all day.

She exhaled shakily, turned her back on him and took another sip of wine. C’mon. You can do this. “All right. Let’s get in the hot tub.”

She started shaking even before she finished the sentence. Golden liquid sloshed around the bowl of her glass.

Gavin moved up behind her. She felt the heat radiating from him even though he didn’t touch her. One long arm reached around her and removed the glass from her hand. “Why don’t we take a walk before dinner and save the hot tub for later?”

Suspicious, she spun to face him. “Why?”

“You said you’d never toured Jarrod Ridge. We’ll burn off a little excess energy and then relax afterward.”

That sounded suspiciously like him being considerate, and she hadn’t expected that from him. But she’d take the reprieve. Maybe by the time they returned she’d have found her courage to plunge into the affair. “I’d like to see the grounds.”

He retrieved their coats and then pulled a couple of his thick scarves from the closet. He draped a white one over her head, covering her ears, and then he wound it around her neck. His scent clung to the soft cashmere caressing her cheeks.

He wrapped the black one around his neck, but left his head bare. Within moments they were back outside, their breath fogging the air. Snow had begun falling while they were inside. Big, fat flakes floated down, piling up on the grassy surfaces. With the temperature dropping it wouldn’t be long before it stuck to the sidewalks despite the diligent landscaping crew’s efforts to remove it.

She hadn’t brought gloves. Bad habit. She tended to forget. Before she could shove her hands into her pockets Gavin caught one and folded his long fingers around her palm. She jumped and tried to pull free.

“Easy. I just want to hold your hand.”

Holding hands. Something so basic and innocent. Something she’d once taken for granted and hadn’t bothered to do often enough with her husband. And now she was palm-to-palm with a virtual stranger, and the simple contact rocked her entire body. Gavin’s heat seeped into her, traveling up her arm and down her torso to pool in an area that had been dormant for a long time.

He led her along the sidewalks winding through the resort. Snowflakes sparkled in his brown hair like gold dust. Lights glimmered through the trees from the windows of the occupied lodges they passed, then streetlamps flickered on as the sun slipped behind the mountains in the distance.

“Why me, Gavin? You could have your pick of women.” She blurted the question that had been haunting her.

He briefly squeezed her hand, sending a pulse of energy through her. “Why not you? You’re beautiful, intelligent and your touch ignites me.”

His quick, decisive answer blew her away. She stumbled. He caught her elbow, keeping her upright. His eyes searched hers then his expression changed from concerned to challenging. “Are you up for a little fun?”

Adrenaline pulsed through her veins. “Maybe. What did you have in mind?”

“Come with me.” He walked a little farther down the sidewalk then ducked between a pair of tall cedars, tugging her along in the near-darkness to a better lit area. He broke into a jog. She hustled to keep up as he zigged and zagged through the trees. A few hundred yards later, he slowed to a halt in a well-lit clearing behind a shed that looked as if it might house landscaping equipment. Her quickened breaths fogged the air. He wasn’t breathing any faster, she noted. He released her, then knelt to open a door hidden in the foundation and pulled out a flat-bottomed wooden snow sled with a curled end.

He straightened with a huge, devilish, big-kid grin on his face that was so contagious she couldn’t help smiling back. “It’s still here. I wasn’t sure it would be after so many years.” He knocked on it in several places with his fist, the sound echoing off the buildings around them in the near-silence of the evening. “The wood is still solid.”

Flakes drifted down around them, heavier now than before. “You’re taking me sledding?”

He swept the dust off the surface. “Sure. Why not?”

It was a far cry from flipping her on her back and having his way with her, but as he said…why not? “I’ve never been sledding.”

His eyes narrowed. “It snows in Pennsylvania.”

“My parents weren’t the sledding type. And snow wasn’t common in the eastern part of North Carolina where Russell was stationed.”

“Russell? Your husband?”

Speaking his name in front of Gavin seemed…strange, but it had just slipped out. And it felt…okay. “Yes.”

“And you never sledded with your grandparents?”

“I was usually only here in the summers except for quick trips some Christmases with my parents. My father didn’t get along with Pop—his father—and he couldn’t wait to get out of here, so we didn’t stay long.”

“Then it’s time to make up for what you’ve missed.” He tucked the sled under one arm, draped the other across her shoulders and guided her through the darkness away from the lights of the resort and across the snow-covered slope. Their torsos and thighs bumped and nudged with each step, overloading her senses so much she barely noticed the cold.

“Watch your step. The ground is slick.”

“Where are we going?”

“Up the mountain a bit. This same path leads to the mine.” At the top of a slope he turned. “Climb on. Put your feet against the front.”

Nervous, she shifted in her boots. “How do you steer this thing?”

“By shifting your weight or dragging a hand. But let me worry about that.”

She reluctantly eased onto the flat surface. Gavin settled behind her with his strong legs flanking hers, his hips snug against her bottom, and his chest flush with her back, warming her in the rapidly dropping temperature. His arms encircled her and her breath hitched. He held the rope in his fists. “Ready?”

“Ummm.” Excitement and anxiety shimmied over her. “I guess so.”

His cheek pressed hers. He nudged her scarf aside until his lips brushed her ear. “You’re going to have to trust me, Sabrina. I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”

Trust seemed a lot to ask from someone he barely knew, but it was too late to back out now. “Let’s go.”

Eight

Sabrina had never looked more attractive than she did now, flat on her back with her cold-reddened nose and cheeks, excitement sparkling in her eyes and a huge smile on her face.

For about two seconds Gavin considered making love to her out here in the open in the powdery snow. But while instant gratification might be exciting and physically satisfying, it wouldn’t be comfortable for either of them. First, it was too damned cold, and second, security was bound to spot them out here in the milky moonlight.

So he offered her a hand and tugged her to her feet instead of giving in to his body’s demands. Her fingers felt like ice in his and white clumps of snow caked the ends of her long hair as she turned to admire the snow angel she’d made in the deepening snow. Her third. But she’d been having such a good time he’d hated to interrupt.

“Your hands are frozen and your clothes are wet. Let’s get you back to the lodge to warm up.”

“Do we have to?”

Her enthusiasm acted as one hell of a payoff for his patience. “There’s no need to risk frostbite.”

“That was fun.” She grinned up at him. “Thank you.”

“For?”

“Teaching me to play in the snow.”

Her sincerity tightened his chest. As much as he’d hated his childhood, hers must have been worse. At least he and his brothers had had those stolen moments when they’d escaped their father. “You’re welcome. I’m glad I could share a few firsts with you.”

And he meant it. Her enthusiasm and excitement these past two hours had been contagious. From her squeals as they raced down the slope to her learning to make snowballs and snow angels, he’d found more enjoyment watching her have fun than he’d had in a long time. Meeting Sabrina almost made his year of exile worth it.

And then because he couldn’t resist, he bent to taste her smile. She met him halfway, going on tiptoe, leaning into his chest and wrapping her arms around his neck. Her lips and nose were cold, but her kiss was hot—hot enough to make his head steam and his groin heavy.

Their tongues sparred, their breaths blended. How could he possibly want a woman this badly when he’d already had sex once today? The hunger gripped him so tightly he reconsidered risking an embarrassing encounter with The Ridge’s security staff. His brothers would never let him live that down. But once he got Sabrina back to the lodge he could linger over her soft skin, her long legs, her—

Scratch that. He’d linger the second time. The first time was going to be fast. And hot. And hard. He pried his mouth from hers to suck air into his lungs. Chest bellowing, he grabbed her hand, snatched up the sled and towed her toward a warm bed.

“In a hurry?” she panted a few minutes later.

He slowed his steps. “I want you naked.”

She gasped and tripped. He caught her and kissed the O of her mouth, adding fuel to the fire in his gut. Her earlier reservations apparently forgotten, she clutched his jacket and held him close. But not close enough. The layers of down and assorted shirts and sweaters and wet denim blocked him from what he wanted.

He broke the kiss. “Let’s go.”

He avoided the paths that would take him past his siblings’ accommodations because he didn’t want to be waylaid. Sabrina hurried alongside him. His plan to get her to relax by taking a walk had succeeded beyond his wildest dreams. Now she seemed as eager to get back to the lodge as he was. And he was the one wound up. Embarrassingly so.

He said a silent thanks when his temporary home came into view. After propping the sled against the porch wall he wasted no time swiping the key card and shoving open the door. Warm air, carrying the scent of dinner, rushed through the portal to greet them. His stomach grumbled, but he had a more urgent appetite to satisfy before he could eat. He craved the taste of Sabrina. Her mouth. Her breasts. The sweetness hidden within her dark curls.

“It feels good in here,” she said as she reached for her coat’s zipper.

“Over here.” Grasping her shoulders, he steered her to the fireplace. He pitched another log onto the flames then turned to face her. “We’ll leave our clothes by the fire to dry out.”

A moment of doubt flickered over her face, but he wasn’t going to lose ground now. He reached for her scarf, unwound it from her head, then dispensed with her coat. He draped each over a chair which he angled toward the flames, then shed his own gear. Her shirt, like his, was dry because of the outerwear but her jeans were wet from the melted snow.

“Sit.” He pointed to the raised hearth.

With a hiked eyebrow, Sabrina sank onto the stones. He removed her boots and socks, then massaged warmth back into her cold feet. “I kept you out too long. You’re cold.”

Her smile nearly blinded him. “No. Not too long. Tonight was perfect. I wouldn’t have wanted to miss a minute of it.” Then as his thumbs dug into her instep, she purred, “That feels good.”

He’d make her feel even better before the night was through. “Stand.”

“You like giving orders.” But she rose.

“Hazard of the job. Comes with being the one in charge.” He unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans, then peeled the soggy fabric over her hips. It bunched around her thighs. She wasn’t wearing panties—the reminder punched him hard in the solar plexus. She wasn’t wearing them because he’d spotted them on the tack room floor earlier and stuffed them into his coat pocket. “You’re missing something.”

He retrieved the plain white cotton bikinis from his coat and dropped them on the floor.

“You had them in your pocket all day?”

Her scandalized tone made him chuckle. “Yes.” And the knowledge had driven him wild. He hadn’t forgotten until the sight of her playing in the snow had overridden the idea.

He eased the wet, clingy jeans down her legs. “Sit.”

“Are you always this bossy?”

“Only when there’s something I want very badly. And I want you so badly my jaw aches from gritting my teeth against the need to be inside you.”

Her lashes fluttered and her pupils widened. “Are you always so…verbal?”

“Yes. Does it bother you?”

“No. I—I think I like it.” She sat. He stripped the garment from her and tossed it onto the hearth where it could dry without catching fire, then he chafed her cold, reddened thighs with his hands.

But as her skin warmed beneath his palms, he discovered touching her legs wasn’t nearly enough. The hem of her shirt played peekaboo with the dark triangle between her thighs, mesmerizing him, tantalizing him, beckoning him. He whisked her shirt over her head, then released and removed her bra and tossed both aside.

He considered planting his face in her lap and bringing her to a climax, but he wanted more. “I want to caress you, to taste you—your skin, your breasts. But I specifically crave this spot.” He dragged a fingertip beneath each soft curve, making her gasp. “You smell so damned good there.”

He rose, his legs unusually unsteady as he took in her almost naked form in front of the fire. His erection pulsed behind his zipper, demanding release.

She arched her back to the heat, thrusting her puckered nipples in his direction with mouthwatering effectiveness. The fact that she was probably trying to dry her wet hair and seemed unconscious of the eroticism of the move made it all the more irresistible. He stripped off his boots and clothing, pulled her to her feet and yanked her close.

She gasped and stiffened. “You’re cold.”

“No, baby, I’m burning up. For you. Feel what you do to me.” He pressed his erection into her belly and her soft skin teased him.

He lost control of the kiss even before his lips met hers. He wanted to absorb her, better yet, to burrow under her skin. Instead, he wound his arms around her as tightly as he could and devoured her mouth with hungry bites and greedy swipes of his tongue—all of which she returned.

How had she done this to him? He usually had more control.

He tried to tame the need, tried to slow his caresses. But she felt too good in his arms and the fire in his belly burned as hot as molten steel. He couldn’t get enough of her. He cupped and massaged her breasts, tweaking her nipples until she whimpered into his mouth. He thrust his leg between hers, and gripping her hips, encouraged her to ride him. She eased back and forth, hesitantly at first and then found her rhythm.

“You are so wet,” he groaned against her cheek, then gasped for air. The knowledge sent a sharp stab of hunger straight to his penis. Her moisture eased the glide of her flesh over his thigh. She trembled ever so slightly, but enough to let him know she was as turned on and close to the edge as he. “Are you ready for me?”

“Yes,” she whispered breathlessly.

He couldn’t wait any longer. He eased his fingers between them and found her slickness. The scent of her arousal rose up to greet him, and his heart slammed against his chest.

He stroked her center, circling her tender flesh again and again until her back bowed over his arm, granting him access to the sweet taste of her nipple. He rolled the tight bud with his tongue, grazed it with his teeth, then sucked it deep into his mouth. He sampled the other, licking, biting, sucking. “Do you like me touching you, Sabrina?”

“Yes. Yes. I do.” Her cries of release echoed off the high ceiling. Then, near the breaking point, he bent his knees, determined to take her on the rug in front of the fire and pulling her down with him.

“Wait.” She remained standing as he kissed his way down her tummy. “Do you have a condom?”

Her question yanked him back to reality. “In the bedroom.”

The bedroom seemed a mile away. But they couldn’t take any more unnecessary risks. He swept her into his arms and carried her to his room. Despite her height, she weighed practically nothing in his arms.

The maid had already been in and turned on the bedside lamp, folded down the covers and left chocolate truffles on the pillows. He laid Sabrina on the sheets and pushed the confections away. The only thing he wanted to feast on was her.

On second thought…

He snatched up one chocolate and unwrapped it, watching curiosity fill her eyes. He licked her nipple, dampening it, then pressed the chocolate to the tight tip.

She gasped and flinched. “It’s cold.”

“It won’t be for long.” He circled her puckered flesh, leaving a melting chocolate trail on first one hard, dusky pink areola, then the other. Desire flushed her face and chest. Her eyelids fell to half-mast, and she bit her bottom lip which was already swollen, red and damp from his passionate kisses. Beautiful.

She shifted restlessly beneath him, her breaths stuttering in, then out again. “That feels…g-good.”

He lapped up the chocolate, being sure to do a thorough job before he reapplied the confection once, twice, a third time until the only thing left was the smudge on his fingertips. When every trace of the chocolate was gone from her breasts, he offered her his hand. “Lick me.”

Without hesitation, she grasped his wrist and sucked a chocolate-covered finger deep into her mouth. The sight of his flesh disappearing between her lips combined with the swirl of her tongue over his skin pushed him perilously close to the edge.

“You’re driving me crazy, baby. I like your mouth on me.” He shook with hunger, and could barely wait until she cleaned the last of the chocolate from him before he kissed her, their mouths mingling the tastes of candy and desire.

Gasping, she pushed him away. “Condom.”

He groaned, then yanked open the nightstand drawer and grabbed protection. Where was his head? He didn’t make stupid mistakes like forgetting precautions. Certainly not twice.

After he’d taken care of business, she extended her arms, beckoning him. He stroked her thighs apart and savored the sight of her glistening sex, then moved into position. Her lids drifted shut, her head turned away.

“Open your eyes. Look at me.”

Her lashes fluttered upward and their gazes locked. Gritting his teeth against the urge to drive deep and hard, he eased in, one arm-quaking inch at a time. His pulse hammered in his ears. Need burned his gut, licking like the flames of a wildfire at the base of his spine and snaking out in hot streaks. Watching pleasure expand her pupils and part her lips magnified every sensation. “Tell me what you want.”

Sabrina grasped his hips. “Please, now. Hurry. I’m so close.”

The dam of his control broke. He thrust deep, hard and fast, riding the crest of desire. He tortured himself with restraint, teetering on the edge as he stroked her to climax with his thumb. Her inner contractions put another crack in his control but he fought off his release. He wasn’t ready for this to end. Not yet.

She arched off the bed, banding her arms around his neck, and then her breath fanned his ear a split second before her tongue outlined the rim, then her teeth closed on his lobe. The love bite sent him reeling and he lost it. Wave after wave of hot, molten pleasure erupted through him until spent, he collapsed to his elbows above her with her cries echoing in his ears.

Her body spasmed around his with aftershocks, and the gentle clutching and releasing was almost too exquisite to bear. He eventually found the strength to separate from her and ease onto his back beside her. Shaken by the intensity of the experience, he stared at the ceiling.

Why her? Why did this woman who’d been forced upon him have the power to rock his world and decimate his control like no other?

He’d be damned if he knew. But he would find out.

Because if he didn’t, losing her could destroy him the way losing his mother had destroyed his father.

She had to get out of here, Sabrina decided once her lassitude eased and her brain resumed functioning.

She turned her head to study Gavin through the steam rising from the hot tub and visually traced the strong line of his jaw and throat and his broad, wet shoulders—the same line her hands and mouth already had taken three times today. She tried to work up a little shame for her day of debauchery…and failed.

With his arms and head resting on the rim of the hot tub and his breathing deep and even, he appeared totally relaxed. Was he asleep? He hadn’t moved since he’d dragged her out onto the deck to sink into the steaming water after their impromptu fireside dinner followed by round two of lov—sex. Her body quivered at the memory of his devilishly talented tongue making her climax again and again on the rug by the fire.

She blew out a silent, shaky breath and prayed she wasn’t courting disaster. She couldn’t afford to care for him. No matter how much fun she’d had with him tonight. Or how good the sex—all three times—had been. He’d done something to her, cast some spell over her to keep her from thinking straight. If she wasn’t careful she’d forget this temporary relationship was all about physical fulfillment.

An urgent need to run surged through her. She started to rise. “I have to go.”

Without cracking an eyelid, Gavin snagged her wrist and pulled her back down into the water. It was as if he had some sixth sense or mental GPS or something that told him where she was without looking. “Stay with me tonight.”

Her heart slammed against her chest like a racing horse against the gate, then it pounded like thundering hooves. “I can’t. Pops will be waiting for me.”

Without releasing her Gavin turned his head and their gazes met. “Henry will understand.”

She’d be lying to herself if she didn’t acknowledge she was tempted. Tempted to give in to the passionate demand in Gavin’s dark eyes, tempted to lie in his arms, tempted to hold and be held throughout the dark night. And that was exactly why she had to go. She broke free of his grip, the lubricant of the water enabling her escape, and bolted to her feet.

The biting cold temperature slammed against her hot, wet skin like an iceberg. “There’s nothing to understand. We were both answering a biological need and we had sex. That’s it.”

He rose and stood beside her, water streaming over his corded muscles, flat belly, groin and thighs. Involuntarily, her eyes tracked the cascade. He caught an escaped curl and tucked it back into the knot she’d made at her nape, then lifted her chin with a knuckle. “It’s more than that. You know it. I enjoy your company, Sabrina. I had more fun tonight than I have had in a long time.”

The hint of surprise in his eyes and voice undermined her resistance. Was he as shaken by this sudden attraction as she was? She struggled to rally her defenses because she needed room and privacy to think and reevaluate her plan. “I enjoyed tonight as well, Gavin. But I nee—I want to go home. If you can’t take me, then please call me a cab.”

She couldn’t—wouldn’t—call Pops. She knew he’d come get her instantly, but even if he didn’t have trouble driving after dark, she didn’t want him to know about tonight—today—any of it. As much as he’d been nagging about her lack of a social life lately, he was incredibly old-fashioned. He wouldn’t approve of an affair with no future.

Telling him about the affair would be a great way to drive a wedge between him and Gavin.

She debated the option, but decided she couldn’t handle Pops being as disappointed in her as her parents had been when they’d found out about Russell. Especially since, like that first time with Russell, she’d forgotten to use birth control. Surely she wouldn’t be as unlucky as to have the same consequence. Worry churned in her stomach. She fisted her hands rather than give in to the aching need to cover her belly. And what if she was wrong about Gavin? What if he was being honest and wanted nothing more than the mine? But her doubts niggled.

“I want to go home.”

Without moving, Gavin’s body seemed to coil with tension. “I’ll drive you.”

She suddenly felt uncomfortable and exposed being outside and naked, and she wanted to duck back into the water to cover up. Instead, she forced herself to climb from the tub, knowing Gavin had an unobstructed view of her butt—which she’d never been fond of. Dripping, she stood on the wooden deck, hugging herself and getting colder by the second. The snow chilled her feet. Now what? She couldn’t track water all over the floors. The heck with the polished wood. Better a wet floor than hypothermia. “We should have brought out towels.”

“No need.” Gavin climbed from the water, mesmerizing her with his ropy arm muscles, defined chest and wet, long legs. He opened a cabinet built into the wall of the lodge and withdrew a large bath sheet which he unfolded and draped around her shoulders.

She gasped in surprise. “It’s warm.”

“The cabinet is heated.” He gripped the ends of the fabric, trapping her arms by her sides. His attention dropped to her mouth, and before she could move, he dipped his head and kissed her. Her senses overloaded with the cold air, the warmth of the towel and touch of his mouth.

The easy brush of his lips across hers might be considered innocent compared to their earlier, more carnal exchanges, but nonetheless it slammed her with the full force of desire, weakening her knees and making her want him all over again. How did he do that?

She dug up the strength to push away. Grabbing the towel and hugging it close, she put a yard between them.

Your hormones are making up for lost time. It’s nothing special. He’s nothing special.

Gavin extracted a second towel and dried himself as casually as if he were in the privacy of his bathroom instead of outside on his back porch in freezing temperatures. Not that anyone was likely to see them with the way every Jarrod Ridge lodge was secluded, and with the hot tub tucked into a little nook, but still…

She caught herself admiring the ripple and flex of his muscles beneath his taut skin and the tightening of his nipples due to the cold. The temptation to drag her tongue across the tiny brown bumps drove her to bolt through the French door and race for her clothes.

The sound of the door closing and the quiet, confident pad of footsteps told her Gavin had followed. When she risked peeking at him and noted he’d wound a towel around his hips she exhaled in relief. He threw another log on the fire. The pop and hiss drew her like a flame does a moth. But getting closer to the fire meant getting closer to him and standing in the exact spot where he’d pleasured her so many times earlier.

Turning her back to him, she hastily dragged on her bra and shirt, and then reached for her jeans. The denim had dried in front of the fire, and if it was stiff and rough against her skin, then the discomfort was no more than what she deserved.

Consider it penance for using the man to scratch your sexual itch.

She yanked on her socks and boots, then prowled the room rather than watch Gavin dress, but she couldn’t block out the swish of his jeans sliding over his hair-dusted legs, the rrrp of his zipper or the thump of him stomping his feet into his boots. Her brain filled in the gaps with graphic images collected over the past three hours, and her body hummed like a beehive.

She couldn’t recall ever being this aware of anyone before—not even Russell, and she’d thought she’d memorized her husband’s every gesture. Being so attuned to a near-stranger concerned her.

She had to get out of here. Now. She hastily donned her coat, then turned and found Gavin immediately behind her. She staggered back at his close proximity.

“You planning to love me and leave me, snow angel?” he asked with a teasing half smile that didn’t carry to his searching eyes, and it was his eyes she focused on rather than the way his “snow angel” rumbled through her like an avalanche. Why was he so solemn?

“Pops will wonder where I am.”

“He knows you’re with me and that I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“It’s late.” And her will to escape was weakening. “Ready to go?”

Bracing a hand on her waist, he reached past her for his coat, pressing the length of his body against hers. Her hormones clamored to attention despite the workout they’d already been given. She was more physically sated tonight than she’d ever been in her life. How could she still want him? She gulped.

He shrugged on the garment, staying in her personal space as if laying claim to it. “Let’s go.”

Then he moved out of scent range and opened the front door, giving her an opportunity to fill her tight lungs with fresh, cold, sobering air. She stepped outside into a world of white and stopped to admire the scene. Inches of fresh snow blanketed the ground and low shrubs.

She glanced up at him. “The weather forecast wasn’t calling for this much snow, was it?”

“No. And it’s still coming down heavily. It would be safer for you to stay until morning when the roads have been plowed.”

Alarm raced over her. She wasn’t ready to play house or sleep with him all night. He’d already shaken her defenses. “I can’t. I have to make sure Pops takes his medicines.”

“Then I’ll get you home.” Gavin led her to the Jeep he’d driven that first day and helped her into the passenger seat. He took her hand, uncurled her fingers and pressed the keys into her palm. “Start the engine. Warm up the car.”

After closing her door he scraped the windows, then joined her in the cab. The Jeep slipped a bit as he backed out of the parking space, making her pulse skip. Maybe staying would be safer. No. Too big of a risk.

Gavin drove slowly through the resort’s winding roads. The short drive into downtown seemed to take forever. He reached across the seat and briefly covered her cool hands with the heat of his. “I’ll get you there in one piece. Relax. I’ve driven in worse.”

She winced when she realized he’d caught her fisting her fingers so tightly that her nails had dug into her palms. “Sorry. I just haven’t mastered driving on slick roads yet.”

The inn finally came into view. She heaved a sigh of relief. Gavin pulled as close to the back door as he could get and killed the engine.

“Who plows your parking lot?”

“Pops has always done it with the tractor we have in the barn.”

“I’ll come by and do it in the morning.”

“You don’t have to do that, Gavin.”

“The ground’s going to freeze tonight. Henry doesn’t need to risk slipping and breaking a hip.”

When he put it that way, how could she refuse? And yes, his consideration touched her. “Thanks.”

“Not a problem.” He shoved open his door.

She stiffened. “You should get home before the roads worsen.”

“I’m walking you to the door,” he said, his voice firm and insistent.

Determined to keep the good-bye short and sweet, she slid from the cab. Gavin caught up with her, grabbed her arm and offered support as she made her way through the powdery snow. She wanted to cast off his help, but the back door opened before she could. Pops stood in the threshold.

“Should have known my bones weren’t wrong about the storm front.”

“They never are, Pops.” She turned to Gavin, trying to figure out how exactly you said good-night to a lover when you didn’t want anyone to know about the intimacy. “Thanks for the ride, and the sledding and dinner.”

He searched her face. “You’re welcome.”

“Get out of the way, girlie, and let the man inside,” Pops said from behind her. “You’re not sending Gavin back out in this weather. It’s late and we have a houseful of beds. He can stay here and go home in the morning after the roads are plowed.”

No. Panic rose inside her. “But, Pops—”

“B’sides, I’ll need his help cranking the old tractor and putting the plow blade on it in the morning.”

Her stomach plunged to her cold feet and a trapped sensation banded her chest. Spending a night under the same roof as Gavin Jarrod was the last thing she wanted to do.

But the choice had been taken from her.

Nine

She should be exhausted, but instead Sabrina fidgeted in bed, staring gritty-eyed at the ceiling and worrying her bottom lip with her teeth. She could still taste Gavin on her lips, smell him on her skin and feel the residue of their coupling between her legs. Maybe a shower would wash away her tension so she could sleep. But no. Since her bathroom backed up to Pops’s, he would hear the water running through the pipes in the walls of the old house.

That left her stuck with traces of Gavin all over her and the same old unanswered question playing over and over in her head. Had she made a mistake in getting involved with Gavin?

A noise jerked her from her rumination. Holding her breath, she listened until she heard the click-click again, then bolted upright, climbed from the bed and eased open her door. Was someone in the house? The muffled sounds came from the laundry room just down the hall. No trespasser would break in there and close the door.

Panic subsiding, she exhaled in relief. No doubt Pops was sneaking one of his contraband cigars with the back door open to try and alleviate the odor. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d caught him defying his doctor’s orders in the middle of the night when he thought he wouldn’t get caught. And with the storm still blowing, his aching bones were probably keeping him awake.

Without turning on the lights she shuffled down the hall letting the sliver glowing beneath the door act as her beacon. She sniffed, but she didn’t smell a pungent tobacco aroma. Ready to scold Pops and rehash the old argument again, she shoved open the laundry room door. The sight of Gavin, with his back to her and a pair of her grandfather’s sweatpants riding low on his hips sent her staggering backward.

He pivoted, all bare-chested, barefooted and delicious.

A thin line of pale, untanned skin showing just above his waistband drew her eyes. She forced her gaze upward. “What are you doing?”

“Washing my clothes. We worked up a sweat on the slope tonight.”

And again in his lodge. Twice. She pushed the heat-inducing memories aside. “You know how to use the machines?”

He tilted his head and gave her a patient look. “Of course. I know how to wash my own clothes.”

He washed his own clothes, she silently parroted. Somehow that fact made him seem more human and less rich, obnoxious and entitled. And she had to admit, albeit reluctantly, she found his confidence in being able to handle anything that came his way extremely attractive.

Yet another thought to squash. Focus on the fact that he’s invading your turf. Again. “I usually do our guests’ laundry if they ask.”

“Henry gave me free run of the place and told me to make myself at home. Do you have anything you want to throw in here?”

“No.” Rejection sprung automatically to her lips. How could something as commonplace as sharing an appliance’s washtub seem so…personal, so intimate? But the idea of their clothing intertwining in the water the way their bodies had earlier made her pulse skip and her skin flush.

And then there was her grandfather’s new open-door policy. What was up with that? Normally he wasn’t as trusting as he’d been with Gavin. Why the sudden change? What did she not know? There had to be something.

Gavin closed the lid and leaned a hip against the machine as water splashed into the basin. “Did I wake you?”

“No.”

Fighting the temptation to ogle his body, she focused instead on his face, and because of that she didn’t miss his gaze roving over her, starting with her hair which was probably a frizzy mess from her tossing and turning, then he studied her face, her chest, her torso and her legs. The return trip dragged on equally as long, stirring up a storm of awareness inside her. For a few precious seconds she regretted wearing her old, boring flannel nightgown.

What do you care about his opinion of your wardrobe?

You don’t.

A rueful smile twisted his mouth. “Considering the day we’ve had, we should both be sleeping soundly tonight. But here we are. Awake well past midnight.”

Because of the orgasms, he meant. She couldn’t even remember how many she’d had. Russell had always allowed her one, sometimes two, then he’d gotten down to business. Not that their sex life hadn’t been good, but it had never been…stupendous.

Uncomfortable with the traitorous thought, she shifted on her feet. “If you’re tired you can go to bed, and I’ll switch your stuff to the dryer when it’s done so you’ll have clean clothes in the morning.”

“I can handle it. I make a mean hot chocolate. It’ll help us unwind.” He leaned forward, snagged her wrist and tugged her toward the kitchen.

She tugged back, but trying to pull free proved useless. His grip remained tight. Hijacked in her own home. How had that happened? “What if I don’t want hot chocolate?”

“You will once you taste mine. Like me, it’s irresistible.”

His cockiness combined with the playful attitude he’d displayed while sledding tonight startled a laugh from her. The man had an ego the size of the Rocky Mountains. “You think so?”

He stopped abruptly and snatched her forward. Their bodies collided with a soft, heart-skipping thump. “I know so.”

Her breasts, overly sensitive from the attention he’d already showered on them today, nonetheless welcomed the pressure of his chest against them. His lips settled on hers, sipping and sampling softly at first, then with increasing pressure and urgency. Her pulse rate tripled and her body seemed to come alive in his arms, wanting more of the magic she knew he could deliver. Before she could work up a protest or convince her hands to rise and shove him away, he grasped her upper arms and set her back. “Wait and see. Where do you keep your cocoa and spices?”

Dizzy from the abrupt change, she blinked to clear her head, then pointed toward the pantry and sank bonelessly onto the nearest barstool. She wasn’t used to letting someone wait on her. And she wasn’t sure she liked it. But she’d give it a try. It wasn’t as if she’d get used to it and get lazy since the relationship was short-term.

Gavin found a pot, then gathered and combined the ingredients. After he’d stirred the mixture into the milk and turned on the burner he leaned against the counter watching her with those predator’s eyes. Was he trying to read her mind or looking for a vulnerable spot to attack? Her nipples tightened and her breathing quickened. Sexual tension sizzled in the air between them. She didn’t know how to handle it.

“Come here, Sabrina.”

Her breath caught at the hungry look in his eyes. “Why?”

“Because you want to.”

She did, and that scared her. For that reason alone she should refuse, but she slid from the barstool and circled the work island on trembling legs because… Well, she didn’t know why exactly. She just did.

He cupped her jaw. “I haven’t had as much fun as I did today in a long time. We’re good together. In bed. And out.”

When he spoke in that low, knee-melting rumble and looked at her as if he wanted to eat her up she had trouble remembering her name, let alone why they were so wrong for each other. “It’s just sex.”

He caressed her cheek, and the urge to lean into his palm, into his body, surprised her. “Tell yourself that if it makes you feel better.”

“You don’t agree?”

“No. I don’t.” He paused and sniffed. “Hold that thought and prepare to be impressed.” He turned back to the stove, stirred the mixture.

Confused by her disappointment, she hugged her arms around her chest. She should go back to her room. If she stayed there was no telling what would happen.

“Do you have marshmallows?” he asked.

She retrieved the bag. He dropped a few of the white puffs into each mug then poured the steaming liquid over them. The scents of chocolate and cinnamon filled the air.

He lifted his cup for a toast. “To us and the good times we have yet to share.”

The statement implied more of a future than they had.

“To good times,” she corrected and clanked her mug against his. She really should hate him. He was encroaching on her territory, possibly threatening the roof over her head and her grandfather’s security. But distrusting Gavin grew more difficult by the second. And then she sipped his hot cocoa, and disliking him became easier. First his coffee was better than hers, now this.

“Your cocoa is better than my grandmother’s recipe,” she offered grudgingly.

“Told you I’m good.” But his suggestive tone and the hot look in his eyes implied he wasn’t talking about the beverage.

Rather than deal with the sexual innuendo that tangled her thoughts and her tummy, she gulped another mouthful, savoring the sweetness of the marshmallows and the richness of the chocolate. “I can’t see you slaving over a hot stove perfecting a recipe.”

“You’re right. My brother is top chef in the kitchen. But make it campfire rations and I’m king. I made hot cocoa whenever my brothers and I camped out at the mine.”

King. Yes, she’d just bet he liked that. She enjoyed the peeks into his past more than she should since they were completely irrelevant to whether or not he was trying to swindle her grandfather. “I want your recipe.”

“You’ll have to earn it.”

“How?”

His lips curved slowly upward, stealing her breath and sending a rush of warmth to her lower regions. “Drink up and I’ll show you.”

Every fine hair on her body rose to attention. Gavin Jarrod excelled at whatever game he was playing. He was so far out of her league, how could she even begin to compete? And if she wasn’t careful, she was going to fall under his spell.

Who are you kidding? You already have.

Her heart went splat like a thrown snowball and settled like a cold, heavy blob in her stomach. She was falling for Gavin Jarrod despite her aversion to rich men and emotional involvements, and her fear that he had ulterior motives for befriending Pops.

She’d let him get too close. And she didn’t know how to push him away. Or even if she wanted to anymore.

A creeping awareness of pins and needles prickling Gavin’s left arm woke him slowly. He flexed his fingers, trying to work the circulation back into his limb. That’s when he noticed the warm, soft, sweet-smelling weight on his biceps and remembered where he was and why.

Sabrina. He’d slept with her last night. In her bed. Under Henry’s roof. Not smart considering the deed had not been signed over. But he was close—damned close—to closing the deal.

He’d intended to sleep alone just to prove a point—the point being that he controlled the hunger he felt for his soon-to-be temporary wife rather than the hunger controlling him. But the marshmallow foam on Sabrina’s upper lip had been his downfall. One cocoa-flavored kiss and he’d lost control and his common sense, apparently. Even then, he’d intended to leave after the sex, but when he’d tried, Sabrina had whispered, “Stay,” and he’d caved like a damned fool.

To make matters worse, dawn outlined the curtains, and his clothes were still in the washer. Henry would be expecting him to help with the tractor soon.

Gavin grimaced. He had to get up. But he didn’t want to move. The narrow queen bed should have felt cramped since he was used to stretching out in a king. Instead he liked it because it forced Sabrina to lie against him, his body spooning her warmth, her hair tickling his chin and chest. He felt better rested than he had in months—as if he’d had his first good night’s sleep since returning to Aspen.

What in the hell had she done to him?

He had to get out of here before he started believing their relationship could be anything other than temporary. Any marriage to him would be doomed to failure—his past relationships and those of his co-workers had proven that fact repeatedly. He didn’t do failure. And he sure as hell didn’t want to end up like his father—a cold heartless bastard who had driven his children away and had to die to get them to come home.

He eased out of bed, being careful not to wake Sabrina. She sighed in her sleep and rolled onto her back, one pink-tipped breast peeking above the sheet. Hunger speared him and he nearly reached out to stroke the soft swell. He searched her face from the dark fan of lashes on her cheeks to her red lips, and smooth, flushed skin. Beautiful. The urge to say to hell with Henry and climb back between the sheets hit hard, but he stifled it and reached for the borrowed sweatpants. Business came first, and his family was counting on him.

He made his way to the door and escaped as silently as possible. The smell of strong coffee was his first indication of pending disaster.

He ignored it and made his way down the hall to the laundry room. He opened the washer. Empty. It was still too early for Henry to be up, but he hadn’t felt Sabrina leave the bed during the night to switch the clothes to the dryer. He was a light sleeper, but maybe he’d been so drained he’d missed it. Doubtful. He opened the dryer. His clothes were inside and still warm. The warmth was a bad omen.

He had a feeling he’d been busted by Henry. Gavin dressed quickly by the machine, and dreading what lay ahead, made his way toward the kitchen. Henry sat at the table, cup of coffee in his hand, a newspaper in front of him and a scowl on his face so fierce it would blister paint. Anger shot from his eyes like lasers and stiffened his frail body.

Aw, hell. A sinking feeling entered Gavin’s stomach. He squared his shoulders, prepared to fight the battle since he couldn’t avoid it.

“You’ve abused my hospitality and my trust.”

Yep. Busted. “You asked me to romance Sabrina. I’m doing it. My way.”

“You’d better not hurt that girl.”

“I have no intention of hurting Sabrina.”

“If you do, you’ll never get what you want out of that land. I’ll tie it up in so many legal knots you won’t be able to untangle it.”

“You said you’d sign over the deed to me.”

Henry’s mouth flattened into a straight line. “An’ I won’t go back on my word. I may not have the money you Jarrods have, but I’ve been in this city a long time. I have connections. You’ll find it impossible to get your permits or even your trash picked up if you cross me.”

Great. Just what he needed. He’d made a potential enemy out of his only ally.

The men had been outside for over an hour. The sound of the back door closing had jarred Sabrina from her deepest sleep in years. Her face warmed as she recalled the cause of her near-comatose state. Gavin. Sledding. Multiple orgasms.

But she’d yet to hear the growl of the old tractor’s engine. Knowing the pair of them, they’d probably started talking and weren’t getting any work done. They must be frozen by now.

Juggling the thermos and a couple of mugs, Sabrina stepped onto the back porch. The snow had stopped and the sun was making a weak effort to peep through the clouds, but the bite of cold still lingered in the air. A narrow path to the barn had been shoveled clear. Gavin must have done it. Her grandfather had given up shoveling more than a year ago. Like other chores, it had become her job. This year she needed to look into hiring a high school boy to do it.

She made her way to the barn, entered and pulled the side door closed behind her. Other than the horses crunching on oats in the stall, she heard nothing—no conversation, not even the radio her grandfather usually listened to while he tinkered in his small workshop. The two of them working in silence struck her as odd.

A small kerosene heater had warmed the interior to above freezing, but she sensed a chill in the air that had nothing to do with the weather. What could it be?

Your imagination, probably. Or maybe their frustration over not getting the machine running.

Her grandfather sat stiffly on the tractor’s seat. He glanced at her, then he stared straight ahead at Gavin bent over the front of the plow blade with a wrench in his hand. Gavin had stripped off his coat and his shoulder muscles flexed beneath his turtleneck as he yanked on something. Desire trickled through her like melting snow sliding down the mountainside.

She cleared her throat, breaking the silence. “I brought coffee.”

Both men looked at her, but neither made a move in her direction. Gavin and Pops had never been short of conversation and yet they weren’t talking.

“Is something wrong with the tractor?” she asked.

Gavin straightened. “One of the nuts is rusted. I’m having trouble breaking it loose from the bolt to attach the plow. If soaking it in motor oil won’t free it I’ll have to cut the bolt and wait until the store opens to get a replacement.”

She searched his face, seeking the man who’d held her and made love to her so tenderly last night. Instead she found no welcome in his expression. Confused and slightly hurt, she turned to her grandfather. “You’ve been out here a long time. Why don’t you take a break and warm up?”

Pops swung down from the seat and made his way to her, stopping between her and Gavin. His eyes seemed to probe hers. “How’re you this mornin’?”

A smile she couldn’t hold back curved her lips, but then the odd undertone in his voice registered. What did it mean? Did he know Gavin had been in her room? No. He couldn’t. They’d been quiet, and her last memory of Gavin had been of him kissing her good-night and telling her he was going upstairs to his room. She’d mumbled, “Okay,” through lips almost numb from his ravenous kisses, and then, oblivion. She didn’t remember him actually leaving.

“I’m fine. How are your bones this morning?”

“Good enough.” The succinct answer wasn’t like him.

Gavin joined them, but kept out of her personal space—unusual for him. He silently met and held her gaze. She wished she could read him well enough to know what he was thinking. But she hadn’t even known him a week. Way too soon to be getting as serious or as intimate as they had. They’d skipped a lot of get-to-know-you steps in the dating game.

Too late to worry about that now. As Pops would say, that horse had already fled the barn.

“Pour me a cup, girlie.”

Blinking at the reminder of why she’d come out here, she filled the mugs. “I can call someone to clear the driveway if you don’t think you can get our tractor working.”

Gavin accepted a mug. “If I can’t get this bolt loose I’ll have the Jarrod Ridge crew take care of it.”

“Don’t want your damn charity,” Pops grumbled.

“It’s not charity. It’s a neighbor helping a neighbor,” Gavin countered tightly.

“Neighborly, huh. Is that what you call it?”

Alarm slithered over Sabrina and a sinking feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. She looked from one man to the other. The tension and antagonism between them was palpable. That could only mean one thing.

Pops knew Gavin had been in her room last night. Her lungs emptied.

Would Pops condemn her? Would he call her a slut the way her father had? Would he shake his head in disgust and stare at her with disappointment-filled eyes? Would he order her to get out because he couldn’t stand the sight of her?

She gulped. Her parents had been more concerned with the embarrassment her unplanned pregnancy would cause them and the potential backlash on their careers than they had on the effect of the situation on her life.

Bracing herself, she searched her grandfather’s face and waited. For condemnation, for understanding or…or anything. Instead, like Gavin, he offered no clues to his thoughts or feelings.

The one thing she’d wanted just days ago—to break up the camaraderie between Gavin and Pops—had fallen into her lap. Right after she’d decided she didn’t want it anymore. Not when she might be falling for Gavin.

And that enmity could very well spread to her.

Now what was she going to do?

How could she make it right?

She didn’t have a clue.

Ten

“Sorry it took me so long to get here. I was in the middle of something,” Gavin told Blake as he joined his brother in the Jarrod Ridge offices. Coming here still made him uncomfortable even without their father behind that desk dispensing orders and disapproval.

He’d received Blake’s text message requesting a meeting hours ago, but he’d refused to leave the Snowberry Inn until he’d plowed the parking lot. Doing so would have meant Henry plowing it and possibly breaking a hip, and/or killing himself with that old tractor before the deed was settled. Besides, Gavin realized, he liked the old geezer and didn’t want him to get hurt.

And then old habits had kicked in. He’d returned to the lodge to shower off the tractor grease and change clothes before putting in an appearance. Being dirty in the public rooms of Jarrod Ridge had always brought down their father’s wrath. On second thought, he should have come here filthy, just to make dear old Dad roll over in his grave.

Blake gestured to a chair. “What’s the status on the land?”

“I have the situation under control,” he replied with a confidence he wasn’t sure he believed. But damn it, he would not fail.

Blake grinned. “I remember saying that last month about me and Samantha.”

“Yeah, and your assistant turned the tables on you. That won’t happen with me. I’m close to getting the property back from Henry Caldwell.”

“How close? Should I let the construction crew move on to another project?”

Frustration made his molars slam together. “If we do, then we’ll lose them for months.”

“That’s right. We’ll have to wait until they finish their next job. But they’re about to wrap the current project and can’t afford to stand idle.”

Damn. He had to pick up the pace. Move the marriage forward. He weighed the idea, and surprisingly, it didn’t repulse him as much as it once had. He also needed to get back on Henry’s good side and marrying Sabrina would do it. The sooner, the better all around. “How’d you go about your wedding?”

“Excuse me?”

He eyed his brother. “Arranging a marriage, Vegas-style.”

Blake’s eyebrows lowered. “Why?”

“I’ve been seeing Sabrina, Henry’s granddaughter, and I’m thinking of proposing.”

“You?”

“Sure. Why not? She’s beautiful. I enjoy her company, and the sex is good.” Damned good. Phenomenal even. But his brother didn’t need to know that.

Blake started shaking his head even before Gavin finished speaking. “That’s not a reason to get married.”

“No. It’s three reasons. Three good ones.”

Blake gave him a pitying look that chafed. “You might want to hold out for love.”

“Who says I don’t love her?”

“You haven’t said you do, which means you don’t.”

Because he didn’t lie. “I’m not the kind of guy who shares personal stuff like that. But I care about her. A lot.”

And strangely, that wasn’t a lie.

“Then take it slow and see what develops.”

“I don’t want to wait.”

Blake frowned. “I’m not liking the smell of your urgency. This isn’t tied to getting the land, is it?”

Gavin considered prevaricating, but Blake was too smart to be fooled. “Henry will be…encouraged to sign the deed sooner if I’m part of the family.”

“Don’t do it, Gavin. Don’t tie yourself to someone you don’t love. It’s not fair to you and it’s disrespectful to her.”

“Says the man who seduced his assistant to keep her from quitting. I know what I’m doing.”

“Those sound like famous last words—words you’ll regret, I might add.”

He brushed off his brother’s concern. He didn’t have a choice. “Like I said, I have the situation under control. Don’t let the crew go. We’ll be ready to break ground as soon as they finish their current job.”

He rose, ending the meeting before his brother could ask more probing questions, and made his way to the door. The idea of whisking Sabrina off to Vegas was growing on him. No fanfare. No money down the drain. No witnesses. But he wasn’t doing that until he had a prenup. For that he needed Christian, the family attorney and soon-to-be brother-in-law.

But first, he needed a ring and a pitch she couldn’t refuse. Until he proposed and Sabrina accepted, the rest was a moot point.

“You win,” Sabrina said after the waiter discreetly backed away from the table, leaving her and Gavin to their after-dinner coffee. In normal circumstances, a highfalutin place like the riverside restaurant wasn’t her style. But with Gavin seated across from her at the candlelit table the evening seemed magical.

“How do I win? Aside from the great company,” Gavin asked in that deep, rumbling voice of his that sent a shiver down her spine.

Her cheeks warmed. She didn’t know where to begin. From the moment he’d shown up at the inn’s front door wearing an immaculately fitted black suit and carrying a dozen red roses every single minute had seemed like a fairytale.

“You got me to a restaurant with a wine list the size of a telephone book and no prices on the menu and made me love it. The food was amazing. And this…” She flicked a hand to indicate the linen-draped table set in an intimate alcove overlooking the Roaring Fork River and the landscaping beyond the window decorated with twinkling white lights. “I don’t know how you managed to get reservations on short notice when most people wait a month to get in, but this is so…perfect. The flowers, the wine, that decadent tiramisu…everything.”

He smiled a little, but he seemed tense. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. I want nothing but the best for you. For us. From here on out.”

Her heart hiccupped at the serious look in his eyes. She swallowed. “What do you mean?”

Gavin reached across the table and captured her hand. Her pulse did its usual skip on contact. She loved the strength and gentleness of his hands and the warmth of his skin on hers. He caressed the heart of her palm with his thumb, stirring up a fizzy sensation low in her abdomen.

“Sabrina, I want to go to sleep with you in my arms like we did last night and wake up with in you in mine every morning.”

A thrill shot through her. At the same time, fear tickled her nape. But she’d promised herself seven months and she’d take it. A finite period of pleasure would be safe. But part of her—an itty bitty part—had begun to want more. She struggled to catch her breath. “I’d like that, too.”

His fingers tightened. “I don’t want to have to sneak around to be with you, and I don’t want to upset Henry. I respect him too much for that. Him catching me coming out of your room this morning made us all uncomfortable.”

Understatement of the year. Pops hadn’t said a word, but the tension had hung over them like a dark cloud all day. “I thought you were going back to your room as soon as I fell asleep.”

“You asked me to stay, and I didn’t have the strength to refuse.” Before she could correct him Gavin shifted, reaching into his suit coat pocket with his free hand and withdrawing a small black velvet box.

That couldn’t be what she thought it was.

“Marry me, Sabrina, then we can share as many nights like this as we want.” He flipped open the lid, revealing a pale blue stone set on a woven gold band.

She gasped. This couldn’t be happening. Not to her. She wasn’t ready.

“The stone reminded me of your eyes. Bright, clear and beautiful. And when the light catches it right, there’s an inner fire that ignites. From the moment I saw it, I knew it belonged on your finger and that I wanted to be the one to place it there.”

No one had ever said anything as romantic to her in her life. Her head reeled and her pulse pounded in her ears. She lifted a shaky hand to her chest. “It’s—Gavin, the ring is beautiful, but we haven’t even known each other a week.”

His gaze remained steadfast. “Long enough to know we’re as perfectly matched as two people will ever be.”

Wanting to say yes was wrong on so many levels, but the tiny word danced on the tip of her tongue. And that was crazy. It was too soon to make such a momentous decision. Hadn’t she sworn never to fall in love again because she didn’t think she could survive the hurt of losing someone special? And wasn’t Gavin still a rich guy?

But he is so much more than that, an insistent voice in her head argued. He’s fun and sexy and smart. He made her feel alive and special. She’d been wrong about him on so many levels. He didn’t act as if he were entitled to anything he wanted, and he didn’t treat her as if she was less worthy because she was less wealthy.

Stop it. Just say no. Or ask for more time.

But what if she did and she lost him forever? Was she willing to risk that? No. And what if this moment was the one that she’d remember for the rest of her life? She fought to clear her head and use logic. “We barely know each other.”

“Ask me anything.”

“I don’t even know you well enough to know what to ask. What about your job and your insistence on leaving Aspen?”

“I’ll make Aspen my home base. That way you can be here for Henry.”

“Where would we live?”

“For now, I have to live on Jarrod property.”

“I can’t leave Pops alone at night.”

“I’ll arrange for someone to stay with him.”

He made it sound so easy. “Why are you in such a rush?”

“I don’t want to miss another day with you.”

If a heart could actually melt, hers would be a soggy puddle beneath her feet right now. So much for her resistance to his charm.

“I’ll charter a plane and first thing in the morning we’ll fly to Vegas.”

Shock knocked her back in her chair. “Vegas?”

“In another week you’ll be too busy for a vacation. We’ll find a little chapel and get married and be back before Henry misses us.”

A cold rock settled in her stomach, squashing all her warm, fuzzy feelings. “You want to elope? Tomorrow?”

“Why wait?”

“We’re moving too fast.”

“Do you love me?”

The abrupt and unexpected question stunned her speechless. She’d been trying very, very hard not to let her mind wander down that dangerous, slippery path. Her stomach churned, and her thoughts swirled wildly. Did she love him? The weight of the answer settled on her like a cold blanket of heavy snow. “I—I am falling in love with you.”

He closed his eyes, squeezed her hand and inhaled long and slow. His emotional reaction to her confession touched her deeply. Then he met her gaze again with determination-filled eyes. “Marry me so we can be together.”

He hadn’t said he loved her back. But from what she’d learned of his childhood, of his mother’s death when he was four and his father’s overbearing nature, she suspected words of love wouldn’t come easily to Gavin. She’d have to work on that.

“Gavin, even if I accepted your proposal, I wouldn’t elope. I did that the first time.” The hand in her lap clenched and released. Should she tell him? Yes. If their relationship had a future, then it had to be based on total honesty.

“There’s something you need to know. The reason I was in such a hurry to get married the first time is because…because I was pregnant. I—I was still in high school when I found out. My parents gave me the ultimatum of getting rid of my baby or getting out of their house. In their circle, unmarried daughters didn’t have unplanned babies.” She searched his face, trying to read his reaction, but failed to see so much as a flicker of emotion.

“I told Russell, and when he came home from boot camp we eloped. I haven’t been home since. I went with him when he reported to Fort Bragg. I was angry at my parents for not being there for me when I needed them, and I didn’t tell them until after the ceremony, but I’ll always regret not inviting my grandparents. Pops and Grandma were hurt by my selfishness, and I won’t do that to Pops again, not after all he’s done for me.”

Gavin’s eyes filled with compassion. “What happened to your child?”

Loss welled in her chest. “I miscarried shortly after Russell was deployed. The doctors don’t know why. It just…happened. They said it shouldn’t happen again, but we didn’t try. We wanted to wait until Russell got out of the military. And then he—then he was gone.”

He gave her hand another squeeze. “You had to go through that alone?”

“Losing my baby, yes. But Pops was there for me after Russell.”

“I’m sorry. What about now? Do you want your parents at the ceremony?”

They wouldn’t care enough to take the time away from their precious university. “They’re probably too busy to fly out.”

“Then it will be just Henry and us.”

“What about your family?”

“That’s up to you. As far as I’m concerned, as long as you’re there I don’t need anyone else.”

Yet another of Cupid’s arrows scored a direct hit to her heart. Pops would be happy to know he was right when he’d told her that when the right one came along love would hit hard and fast. She hadn’t believed him. After all the pain she’d been through she’d believed herself immune to love. Apparently not. Her feelings for Gavin were far different from the slow-building affection she’d had with Russell.

“Could we wait a little while?”

“Would you be comfortable staying at my place every night until the wedding?”

She sighed. “No.”

“Do you really want to sleep alone?”

He did have a point. “I’d rather be with you.”

He removed the ring from the box and extended his hand, palm up. Tremors started deep in her belly. Why was she being such a coward when she could have more than she’d ever dreamed of—a passionate marriage to a man she loved and a chance to take care of Pops.

“Say you’ll marry me, Sabrina,” he encouraged without one hint of impatience. “On Monday we’ll get our marriage license, and I’ll set something up as soon as I can at the resort and we can be together. Possibly even as soon as Monday evening.”

Her lungs emptied. Her head spun. Her conscience said Slow down but her heart said Yes, yes, yes. She offered Gavin a trembling hand and met his dark gaze. “Yes, I’ll marry you, Gavin Jarrod. I want to be your wife and spend the rest of my life waking in your arms.”

He took her hand and slid the cool ring onto her finger, then kissed her knuckles. “Thank you.”

Teary-eyed, Sabrina stared at the ring—a symbol of the kind of happiness she’d never intended to allow herself again. “The stone is beautiful. What is it? A sapphire?”

“A blue diamond.”

Her heart went ka-bump. “Aren’t those incredibly rare?”

“Not as rare as you.”

The words added yet another fairy-tale twinkle to the evening. But a teensy part of her brain asked if a man who bought priceless blue diamonds would ever be happy with a plain-old-quartz kind of girl.

“Let’s go back to the inn and share our news and a bottle of champagne with Henry.”

Sabrina couldn’t think of a better way to celebrate except maybe in Gavin’s bed. But making love with her fiancé would have to wait.

The guilt knife twisted in Gavin’s gut every time Sabrina beamed a smile in his direction. She loved him.

And he didn’t deserve it.

But he couldn’t allow his feelings to show. Not with Henry watching him like a hungry hawk. Sabrina had already been through so much, her parents’ betrayal, losing her baby and then her husband. He had no right to pile more misery on her. But backing out of the deal now would hurt her more than sticking it out and letting her love slowly fade over time—as it undoubtedly would.

The inn’s phone rang. “I’ll get it,” Sabrina said and hustled down the hall.

Henry waited until she was out of the room to set down his champagne flute. “You’re determined to do this?”

“I make her happy.”

Henry’s snowy white head bobbed. “That you do. If not, I’d be calling off the whole deal despite my concern about her being alone after I’m gone. But I’ll be watching.”

“As you should be.”

“Don’t think that ring—no matter how much you paid for it—gives you carte blanche to anticipate your vows under my roof again.”

“I understand. We’ll have a private ceremony at Jarrod Ridge as soon as I can arrange it. I’m shooting for Monday.”

“Why not here?”

“Because if the marriage doesn’t work out, I don’t want Sabrina to have any bad memories attached to the Snowberry Inn.”

Henry grunted. Gavin didn’t know if the noise indicated approval or disapproval.

Sabrina returned. The confused, or maybe dazed was the right word, expression on her face, made him want to hug her—not a normal reaction for him. He wasn’t the hugging type.

“That was Samantha Jarrod. She said she’s your sister-in-law. I’ve been invited to a bridal shower for your sister Erica on the nineteenth.”

Blake must have said something to his new wife. Gavin’s family was already bringing Sabrina into the fold. Too late to back out now—even if he could find another way to get his hands on that land.

Her wedding day.

Sabrina paced inside the atrium at Jarrod Manor Monday afternoon, struggling to settle her rattled nerves and slow her breathing before she hyperventilated.

She needed to remind herself why she was rushing into marriage. But between shopping for a wedding dress and several walk-in guests at the inn, she’d only seen Gavin once over the weekend before this morning’s rushed trip to the Pitkin County clerk’s office for their marriage license.

So much for it being bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the ceremony on her wedding day.

Was she doing the right thing?

Her conscience had been screaming that question since Gavin had presented her with the prenuptial agreement Saturday evening. Signing the document had seemed like planning the end of her marriage before it began. But Gavin had explained she needed to protect her interest in the inn, and he needed to protect his siblings’ interests in Jarrod Ridge. Logically, everything he said made sense, but that didn’t mean it didn’t bother her.

To focus on something besides the emotional cauldron boiling in her belly she examined the location Gavin had chosen for their ceremony. She had to give him points for choosing a scenic setting.

The solarium with its vaulted ceiling had already been decorated for Christmas even though Thanksgiving was still weeks away. A massive Christmas tree decorated with red and white poinsettias and twinkling white lights dominated one end of the room, lending a festive air to what should be a simple exchange of vows officiated by one of her grandfather’s poker buddies—a retired judge. At the opposite end of the solarium a poinsettia and greenery-draped stone fireplace dominated the wall. And in the center of it all, a beautiful brass fountain shaped like the jagged mountains beyond the windows gurgled. Under other circumstances, she imagined that gurgle would be quite soothing.

Chilled, she made her way toward the crackling flames and held out her hands toward the heat. Light from the overhead chandelier caught the Colorado-blue-sky diamond of her engagement ring, revealing the inner fire Gavin had mentioned. She’d fallen in love with the ring the moment she’d seen it, but when she’d learned the blue of the stone happened to be Gavin’s favorite color she’d loved it even more. Finding a dress in the same hue felt as if destiny had stepped in to confirm her decision to marry a man she barely knew.

But that didn’t lessen her nervousness.

She swept a hand down the long satin skirt and shifted her shoulders in the sheer lace and beaded bolero jacket overlaying the strapless satin sweetheart top. The dress was a little lower cut than she was accustomed to wearing, showing the top curves of her breasts. She turned to let the flames warm the skin left bare by the deep V-back of the dress.

She hadn’t had a wedding dress when she’d married Russell. They hadn’t had the money for one.

Stop. Don’t think about Russell today.

The door opened, providing a much needed distraction, and Gavin strode in looking powerful and charismatic in his black suit, white shirt and blue-and-black-striped tie. He had a red rosebud in his lapel and one hand behind his back. Her heart quickened.

“Are you ready?”

If she said no would he wait? “I think so.”

He swept out his arm, revealing a gardenia and red rose bouquet. “For you. Henry said these were your two favorite flowers.”

His thoughtful gesture reminded her of one of the reasons why she’d said yes. Gavin was generous and considerate. He might not have said he loved her yet, but he did show it. “Thank you, Gavin. The flowers are beautiful.”

“So are you.” He traced a fingertip over her neckline beneath the sheer bodice, making her shiver as desire swept a few doubts under the expensive rug beneath her feet. “Your dress is sexy.”

“I’m glad you like it.” Blushing, she accepted the bouquet and lifted it to her face, drawing a deep breath of the heady fragrance. “Mmm. Smells good.”

“Where’s Henry?”

“Judge Roberts has cataracts and can’t drive. Pops is picking him up.”

“I could have sent a car rather than have you waiting here alone.”

“It’s okay. I’ve been…gathering my thoughts.” More like gathering her nerve.

Gavin lifted her chin with his knuckle. “Sabrina, if you’re having doubts, now’s the time to say so.”

The fact that he was giving her an out went a long way toward soothing her fears. “I want to marry you, Gavin.”

“Good. Because I can’t wait to hold you in my arms tonight. It’s been a long weekend without you.”

The last of her misgivings melted. “I can’t wait either.”

He took the bouquet from her, set it on a nearby table and pulled her into his arms. He lowered his head and she met him halfway, needing to feel his hunger. The kiss didn’t disappoint her. From the moment his mouth opened over hers, she felt the restraint in his firm possession, in the deep sweeps of his tongue and the way his hands tightened on her upper arms.

He tasted of mints and coffee and Gavin. He shifted his stance, then his palms coasted downward to her waist. His hips pressed against hers, generating heat, hunger and enough eagerness on her part that she should be ashamed of her out-of-control desire. But she wasn’t. As much as she’d enjoyed her numbness before meeting Gavin, she now relished the way he made her feel alive with nothing more than a glance or a touch.

The doors opened, startling them apart. Pops and Judge Roberts ambled in. Judge Roberts rubbed his hands and grinned. “Looks like we need to get this knot tied good and tight as quickly as possible.”

“Amen,” Gavin muttered beside her, making her smile. At least the passion wasn’t one-sided.

And for better or worse, Sabrina decided she couldn’t agree more. She wanted to get the wedding over with so she could stop questioning whether she was doing the right thing.

The gold band weighed heavily on Gavin’s finger as he washed his last bite of wedding cake down with champagne at the end of the brief wedding reception he’d arranged for Sabrina. He owed her that much since she’d had none of the fanfare at her first wedding. His family would probably insist on something larger later since he’d kept them away from the ceremony, but for now he wasn’t looking forward to playing the besotted bridegroom in front of the people who knew him—and his aversion to marriage—best.

He signaled the photographer he’d hired to give them a moment and smoothed a loose curl from Sabrina’s soft cheek. She looked up at him from beneath her lashes with happiness shining in her eyes, and he felt the impact of that glance like a caress. It took him a second to recall what he’d been about to say.

He cleared his throat to ease the sudden thickness. “We need to get Henry and Judge Roberts on the road before dark. I’ll walk them to the car.”

She smiled and lifted her hand to lick a smudge of cake icing from her finger. He intercepted her and carried her finger to his mouth. The tastes of Sabrina and white chocolate buttercream icing mingled on his tongue. Her pink lips parted on a gasp and her pupils dilated, igniting a corresponding hunger in his belly. The woman had bewitched him, but not even a passion this strong could endure the absences his job would require.

But until that day, he would focus on the here and now. In a matter of hours he would have her in his bed, naked, wet, and begging him to taste her other sweet spots. He ground his teeth but he couldn’t contain the groan rumbling up his chest. “Give me five minutes.”

She licked her lips, unconsciously inviting him in for a quick kiss that ended up lingering until he almost forgot he had business waiting. A flash from the camera jarred him away.

“Take your time. I need to run to the ladies’ room anyway.” Her voice sounded breathless and a flush tinted her cheeks.

And he didn’t want to leave her. But the signed deed was the reason for this farce, and he wouldn’t end the day without having it in his possession. Once he had it he’d call Blake and give him the go-ahead to contact the construction team.

Releasing her hand and backing away was more difficult than it should have been. He did it anyway and joined the men by the door. “Gentlemen, shall I see you out?”

Once the door closed behind them, Henry nodded to Gavin then turned to Roberts. “Elwood, can you give us a minute?”

Roberts nodded, slapped Gavin on the back and shook his hand. “Congratulations, son. You are indeed one lucky bastard.”

More bastard than you know. “Yessir, I am.”

After the judge walked away Gavin gestured to a small sitting area around the corner. He and Henry made their way to the secluded spot. “You have the signed deed?”

“I do.” Henry offered the folded document. “A deed for a deed, as promised.”

Satisfaction rolled through Gavin as his fingers closed over the paper. He finally had what he wanted—and he’d achieved something not even his father had been able to manage—getting the land back.

“What is that?” Sabrina’s question jerked Gavin’s attention away from his prize. She stood in the hallway. Holding Gavin’s gaze, she quickly closed the distance and plucked the paper from his hand before he could think of a way out of this mess.

She unfolded it, scanned it and then looked up at him with confusion puckering her brow. “This is the deed to the mine.”

“Yes.”

“Tell me you were just doing business today and that this—” she rattled the page “—isn’t connected to our wedding.”

“It’s nothing for you to worry about, girlie,” Henry said and tried to take the deed from her. She snatched it out of reach and focused on Gavin.

“You said Pops agreed to sell the land to you.”

He debated his options. Honesty was his only course. “I said we agreed on the terms.”

She frowned. “If you bought the property where’s the check?” She held up a hand before Gavin could reply. “Think very hard before you lie to me.”

Henry shot Gavin a warning look, but Gavin ignored it. The pain in her eyes cut him to the bone, crushing his triumph over achieving his goal.

He had to fix this. Or he’d lose her.

Eleven

Sabrina searched her grandfather’s face and then Gavin’s. Both looked back at her with matching thin-lipped, guilty-as-sin expressions and her stomach sank.

“A deed for a deed,” she repeated the words she’d overheard through numb lips, trying to make sense of them. Unfortunately, the only option wasn’t a palatable one. Why would the two men she loved the most deceive her?

She focused on Gavin. “Did you marry me to get the mine?”

He shared a long look with her grandfather and each silent second ticking past deepened her misgivings and tightened a vise around her chest.

“Did you, Gavin?” she repeated.

“Jarrod—” her grandfather growled in what sounded like a warning.

“Sabrina needs to know the truth.” Gavin’s solemn dark eyes met hers. “That was the original plan.”

An arrow pierced her heart, but this one hadn’t come from Cupid’s bow. This one had come from an assassin. Her marriage was a sham. “The original plan? Explain that, please.”

Gavin paused and swallowed. “As soon as I met you on that porch I wanted you. And then we touched, and I knew I’d stop at nothing to have you. I’ve never reacted to a woman that intensely or that fast in my life. That was before I met Henry and he laid his suggestion on the table.”

“His suggestion? And what was that exactly?”

Again, he hesitated for a moment as if choosing his words very carefully. “That I take the time to get to know you. Sabrina, with or without the land we would have ended up together one way or another.”

“So all this…” Heartsick, she swept a hand to indicate her dress, the hotel, him. Her throat closed up. Her eyes burned. “You faked it.”

He gripped her upper arm and led her a short distance away from her grandfather, then dipped his head to speak close to her face. “Do you believe I could fake the desire I feel for you? The hunger that eats me up inside until I can barely think? Name one thing that’s happened between us that feels phony.”

He’d lowered his voice to that sexy rumble that made her tremble. She didn’t want to believe him, but for a man who was usually hard to read she couldn’t deny the sincerity in Gavin’s eyes. Her emotions churned wildly. How could his comments simultaneously hurt her and send her heart flying?

Did he love her or had he just used her?

She jerked her arm free and moved a few steps away from Gavin to try to regain control. That left her staring at her grandfather. “So this was your idea.”

Pops’s eyes and his hangdog expression begged for forgiveness. “Sabrina—”

Gavin’s hands settled on her shoulders. “Henry saw the chemistry between us and prodded me to follow through because he loves you, and he doesn’t want you to be alone if anything ever happened to him.”

And then she realized there was a much larger issue here. For Pops to be this desperate he had to be hiding more than his matchmaking. “The pressure you’ve been putting on me to find someone over the past few months…it’s because you’re not well. Isn’t it?”

Pops shrugged. “I’ve been better.”

“Don’t keep secrets,” she warned. “Not about something this important.”

“I’m feeling my age, girlie, that’s all. Colleen would want me to see you settled, before—”

Before he joined her, she finished silently when he didn’t. “I don’t need a babysitter, Pops. You and Grandma taught me well. I can take care of myself and the inn.”

“I’m not talking about a keeper. It’s like I’ve told you. Life is meant to be shared. I want you to experience what your grandmother and I had, Sabrina. You need to know what it feels like to know that one person in this world will always support you and be there for you until God calls ’em home. You didn’t have that with Russell. He was off doing his job—” She opened her mouth to protest but he held up a hand to cut her off. “I’m not denying his was a valiant mission, but he left you behind to fend for yourself. You never had the chance to be two halves of a whole before you were his widow and alone again.”

She couldn’t argue with facts.

“I saw you primping in the hall the day Gavin first visited. That’s the first time I’ve seen you flushed and excited in years. Then Gavin here couldn’t take his eyes off you, and I knew I had to act before yer blasted stubbornness kept you from finding the match standing right in front of you.”

“But, Pops—”

“But nothing. Gavin is the first man you’ve shown interest in since you moved in. I wasn’t letting him get away.”

Her cheeks burned. “You could have given us a chance to work things out ourselves.”

“Wasn’t wasting time I can’t guarantee I have. None of us knows how many days we have left, and happiness won’t wait. You have to seize it while you can.”

By marrying her off, he’d lessened his worries, she realized.

She turned back to Gavin, and her pulse did a little skip as it did every time she saw him. She loved him, and from what he’d said and from what he’d shown her in the short time they’d known each other, he did care about her. As he’d said, no one could fake that passion or that tenderness. Maybe he didn’t love her yet. Maybe he did. But did she want to throw it all away because of the rocky start to their relationship?

No.

She licked her dry lips and took a breath for courage. “Are you sure you want to be married to me?”

Gavin held her gaze. “I wouldn’t undo anything that has happened from the moment I met you, and I will do my best to make sure you never regret becoming my wife.”

Then she would do her best to make her marriage work for her sake, but mostly for Pops’s sake. “Let’s get Pops home. I believe we have a honeymoon waiting.”

“You know I can’t leave.”

“You won’t have to leave Aspen for me to make you feel like you’re flying.”

The sensual promise in his eyes and voice made her tremble. For better or worse, Gavin was her future.

Pregnant.

Sabrina stared at the test stick.

The word in the tiny window explained so much: the slight nausea she’d experienced the past three days, the extra sensitivity in her breasts, and the way certain smells suddenly repelled her when they hadn’t before.

She’d been blaming the changes on adjusting to married life. As much as she’d loved sharing Gavin’s lodge with him for the past eleven days and nights and spending their mornings and evenings together, juggling her roles as wife, innkeeper and Pops’s caretaker was a tough balancing act. Gavin had arranged for Meg, the inn’s housekeeper, to stay with Pops at night, but Sabrina still worried about her grandfather.

She stared at the bathroom mirror and pressed her hand to her stomach. A baby. Excitement and fear battled for supremacy inside her. Part of her yearned to have Gavin’s child. Another part worried that it was too soon to add a baby into the mix.

How would Gavin react to the news? Would he take it stoically and decide to make the best of the situation the way Russell had, or would he be upset? It was hard to know. They’d been so busy between finishing the chores at the inn and the beginning of construction on the new lodge on the property near the mine that they were still learning about each other, and they could barely have a conversation without ending up naked. A baby would change that.

It was early. Her period was only a few days late. So much could go wrong in the first trimester, as she’d learned the hard way. Maybe she should wait to tell him.

The doorbell rang, startling her. She glanced at her watch. “Oh, darn.”

Her ride was here. She’d met Avery Lancaster last week when at the coffee the Jarrod women had organized to welcome Sabrina into the family, and Sabrina had clicked with Guy’s fiancée instantly. When Avery had offered to give Sabrina a ride to Erica’s bridal shower in downtown Aspen, Sabrina had been touched by the way the Jarrod women had included her and she’d accepted. She hadn’t known then that she’d need the quiet drive to get her thoughts together.

Sabrina huffed out a breath and hastily gathered the test strip and packaging and stuffed them back into the bag. She wasn’t ready to face the world with her new knowledge. But what choice did she have? She crammed the pregnancy test into the garbage can, slashed on a swipe of lipstick and bolted for the front door, grabbing the shower gift from the hall table on the way. She’d have to worry about Gavin and her pregnancy later. And then she’d decide when and how to share her news.

She yanked open the door to Avery’s smiling face. “Hi. Sorry I didn’t hear you drive up.”

“No problem.” Avery’s eyes narrowed. “Are you okay? You’re very pale.”

“I probably forgot to put on blush. Oops. I’ll daub a little lipstick on my cheeks in the car. What did you buy for Erica?” she asked, trying to change the subject.

“Guy and I are going to provide a week’s worth of gourmet dinners and matching wines for when Erica and Christian get back from their honeymoon.”

“Good idea. I hope Guy is cooking the meals himself.” She followed Avery to the car and climbed in.

As she buckled her seat belt she realized she didn’t even know where she and Gavin would be living when their baby arrived sometime in—she did the math in her head—late July. Gavin’s required year at Jarrod Ridge would be ending.

Would he be willing to move into the B and B? If not, maybe they could buy a place in downtown Aspen. Or would he be on the road for his job? She couldn’t leave Pops or the Snowberry Inn to follow Gavin around the globe. Would this be like her marriage to Russell where she’d basically been alone most of the time? Would she be raising her child primarily as a solo parent? Would this pregnancy go full term?

There were so many unanswered questions. She now wished she’d pressed Gavin for details. But the sex—which was still amazing—kept getting in the way. In fact, she had wondered if Gavin didn’t use sex to avoid serious conversations sometimes.

“Are you sure you’re okay? You’re very quiet today,” Avery asked.

Sabrina grimaced. “Sorry. I was wondering where Gavin’s next job would be once he finished his year in Aspen.”

Avery glanced her way. “I heard him tell Guy he was working on some preliminary studies for a bridge in New Zealand.”

Surprise stole her breath. Not even the same continent. “I didn’t know he’d already accepted a job.”

“He might not have. You’d better ask him before you get excited about living in such a cool place.”

Only she wouldn’t be living there, but Sabrina kept that to herself. Luckily, they’d arrived at the bistro and getting inside ended the conversation.

The other women had already arrived. Bride-to-be Erica glowed with happiness. Sabrina delivered her gift, kissed Erica’s cheek and then scanned the others gathered in the private dining room. She recognized Melissa, Gavin’s sister, and Samantha, who had married Gavin’s oldest brother Blake just days before Gavin and Sabrina had met. The rest of the dozen or so women were new faces. She pasted on a smile and tried to work up the appropriate amount of enthusiasm.

A waitress passed with an order of buffalo wings. The sour smell reached Sabrina. Her stomach roiled. Surprised, she mashed her lips together. Normally, she loved the tangy hot wings, but apparently not now. Her mouth filled with saliva and a cold sweat beaded her brow and upper lip.

Avery touched her arm. “Let me introduce you to everyone.”

Sabrina held up a finger. “Excuse me.”

She spotted a sign marked restroom and darted toward it. She slammed through the door and into the cool tiled room. Before she reached the stall the nausea faded. Bracing her arm against the wall, she took several deep breaths. Wow. She’d never been sick like that with her first pregnancy. She turned on the sink, dampened a paper towel and blotted her face, noting that the amethyst cashmere sweater dress she’d chosen for today accentuated her pallor and the circles beneath her eyes. Lovely. Not.

The door opened behind her and Avery entered. “I hate to keep asking, but are you sure you’re okay, because you don’t look like you feel well.”

“I—” Sabrina didn’t know what to say. She hadn’t told Gavin her news, and it didn’t seem right to share it with anyone else until she had. “Don’t worry. I’m not contagious.”

“Ohmigod. You’re pregnant,” Avery exclaimed wide-eyed.

Sabrina didn’t want to lie, and yet how else could she explain her odd behavior. “I’m pretty sure I am. But please don’t tell anyone. Gavin doesn’t know yet. I did the test right before you arrived.”

“That would explain the shell-shocked look on your face when you opened the door. It’s none of my business, but are you happy about this?”

Warmth seeped though Sabrina chasing away her chill. She laid a hand over her tummy. “Yes. I’d love to have Gavin’s baby. But I’m not sure how he’s going to take the news. It’s so soon and we didn’t plan this. We haven’t even discussed having children.”

Yet another conversation they should have had before rushing into marriage. Luckily, Avery didn’t point that out. Sabrina brushed a stray curl from her face. “I’m thinking about waiting a bit before I tell him…you know, feeling him out about the situation and figuring out how best to approach him.”

“Sabrina, if you’re already pregnant it’s too late to test the waters on his thoughts about children. Besides, if what happened out there happens again you won’t be able to hide your news anyway.”

“No. I guess not. But…”

“Let me tell you something I’ve figured out. Gavin—like all the Jarrod men—is tough on the outside because he had to be with his father, but all the guys also have warm hearts. It shows in the way they care about each other and kept in touch even when they were scattered about the globe and in the way they dropped everything and rushed here for each other when Donald’s will required it. Trust me on this. I should know since I’m engaged to Gavin’s big brother.” Avery gave a sympathetic smile.

“I guess you’re right. I’ll tell Gavin tonight.”

And she prayed he’d be as happy as she was.

“Hey.” Blake’s shout jerked Gavin back to the present.

“What?” Gavin scanned the area and spotted a backhoe heading toward him. He moved out of the way without a second to spare.

Blake approached. “Didn’t you see the tractor coming?”

Gavin shook his head. “My mind was elsewhere.”

“On the Auckland job?”

“No. I—” He cut off the words rather than admit he’d been thinking about Sabrina, how flushed and satisfied she’d looked this morning when he’d climbed from their bed.

Blake grinned. “Thinking about your pretty new wife? Welcome to the club, man. Go home and get you some. I have it covered here.”

“I don’t need to leave. I’m fine.”

“Cut yourself some slack. You didn’t even take a honeymoon. Spend a little time with your woman.”

Tempted more than he should be, Gavin checked his watch. It was almost quitting time anyway. He’d go because if he stayed his distraction was going to get someone hurt—probably him. Heavy equipment on-site meant everyone’s head had to be one hundred percent in the game one hundred percent of the time. Today, his wasn’t.

But he wasn’t leaving because he needed to see Sabrina.

Who are you kidding?

Disgusted by what he considered a weakness, he waved good-bye to Blake and stomped across the mud and slush-covered ground toward the pickup. What had Sabrina done to him? How had she managed to shatter his concentration when his ability to focus anywhere and under any conditions had previously been one of his best assets?

He shoved the key into the ignition and glanced at the folder labeled New Zealand on the passenger seat. Blake had asked about the project. Before meeting Sabrina, Gavin had considered the bridge the most exciting opportunity of his career. But the sad fact was he hadn’t been able to work up any enthusiasm for the job since he’d met Sabrina. He carried the file around intending to delve into it, but he’d only opened it a couple of times when Sabrina had been tied up at the inn, and then he’d been listening so intently for her key in the lodge’s front door he’d had trouble concentrating on the geology reports.

“It’s just the sex,” he muttered under his breath. “Damned good sex.”

Yeah, right, his conscience jibed. And that mine is just a hole in the ground.

The dashboard clock read four o’clock. At this time of day Sabrina would still be at the inn. He tromped on the gas, earning a warning glare from the Jarrod Ridge security man working the gate blocking access to the construction site. Within minutes he reached the inn’s lot, pulled in and parked beside two other cars—probably tourists getting a head start on sightseeing before the crowds swept into town next week.

Using his key, he let himself in the back door. The smell of cinnamon hung in the air telling him she’d recently made a batch of her famous oatmeal cookies. “Sabrina?”

“In the office,” she called back.

He made his way down the short hall. She sat behind the old wooden desk with her hair twisted up, baring her neck and that spot near her nape that she liked for him to nibble. Seeing her hit him with a pulse-accelerating punch of desire to the gut. “Where’s Henry?”

“Out with the judge.”

“And your guests?”

“Visiting art galleries.”

He pushed the door closed and turned the lock. Her eyes widened. “It’s early. Why aren’t you at the construction site?”

“Blake has everything under control.” He circled the desk, grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet. He studied her from her face to her breasts outlined to mouthwatering perfection by the purple sweater and then down. He liked the surprise. “You’re wearing a skirt.”

“I attended Erica’s bridal shower today.”

He skimmed a hand over her hip and then beneath the hem and back up her thigh. She wasn’t wearing pantyhose. But she was wearing panties. Too bad, but not for long.

She gasped as he tugged the cotton down her thighs. “Gavin, we need to talk.”

Why did women always want to talk when they communicated so much better on a more basic level? The panties fell to her ankles. “In a minute. First, I need this.”

He hooked a hand around her nape, pulled her forward and kissed her, covering her soft lips, stroking them with his tongue and lapping up her unique flavor. “Mmm. You’ve been eating chocolate mints again.”

Ever since the night he’d painted her nipples with chocolate she’d had a craving for the things.

“Just one.” Her breath caught when he cupped her breast and found her tight nipple, then a moan slipped free. Her breasts were so sensitive a man couldn’t help playing with them. But he wouldn’t taste them today—not with the threat of Henry or the guests interrupting him.

He lifted her skirt, finding her curls already wet and her slick little nub swollen and waiting for his attention.

“Gavin, please.” Her breathless voice egged him on.

“I will, baby. I will please you. I know exactly what you like.” He caressed her until she trembled in his arms, then turned her, planting her hands on the desk’s surface. He buried his face in her neck and her perfume filled his nose as he opened his mouth over the warm, satiny flesh beneath her ear. She bowed her back, pushing her bottom into his groin. Hunger surged through him, making his erection pulse in her warm crevice.

He quickened his finger, listening to the telltale sign of her panting breaths. When he thought she was close to the edge he ripped open his pants and shoved the fabric out of the way. Then when her muscle tension told him she was on the verge, he rolled on a condom and eased into her, filling her and sending her over the edge.

She felt so damned good. Slick. Hot. Wet. He gritted his teeth to keep from losing control right then as her muscles contracted around him with the rhythm of her orgasm. Once she settled, he stroked her again, this time using his penis as well as his hand to push her toward the next peak. He teased her as well as himself, alternating fast and slow strokes. Her body drew tight and he backed off once, then repeated the process a second time, making her wait for release. When he couldn’t stand the pressure building in his gut any longer he caressed her past the point of no return and quit fighting.

Climax exploded through him in hot brain-numbing bursts leaving his legs weak and shaking in the aftermath. He had to brace his arms on either side of hers to remain upright. His chest burned as he struggled to fill his lungs.

How could it be that good every time? How long would it take before his craving for her waned?

Sabrina squirmed free long before his legs regained stability. She hastily righted her clothing, and ducked to scoop up her panties. “That was—”

“Fantastic.” He dropped the condom in the trash can beneath her desk and refastened his pants.

“I was going to say unexpected.” When she met his gaze again, the pink drained from her cheeks. Worry clouded her eyes. “Gavin, I have something to tell you.”

Her tight tone indicated whatever it was couldn’t be good. “Is Henry okay?”

“Yes, he’s fine.” She chewed her bottom lip and shifted on her feet. Her fingers tightened and relaxed on the panties in her hand. “I’m pregnant.”

Shock winded him. The blood drained from his head and tension instantly knotted his previously relaxed muscles. “How?”

She searched his face as if trying to gauge his reaction. “I’m guessing I conceived that first time in the tack room. That’s the only time we haven’t used protection.”

He didn’t want to be a father.

He especially didn’t want to be an overbearing, fault-finding parent like his had been. Gavin could almost smell the smoke of his plan for a short marriage going up in flames. He’d expected Sabrina to tire of his long, work-related absences and demand a divorce. And then they’d never see each other again. That blueprint had been part of the Auckland job’s appeal. Distance of that magnitude meant fewer visits, less face time.

But now he and Sabrina would be permanently tied by a child. A child he would fail unless he found a better role model than Donald Jarrod.

Twelve

Gavin’s bleak expression dropped a lead weight in Sabrina’s stomach, erasing any lingering afterglow.

“Children were never part of the plan.”

She blinked at his bluntness. “We didn’t discuss them one way or the other. Are you telling me you don’t ever want children? Or you don’t want them with me?”

“My job involves too much travel for me to be a good father. I’d be an absentee one at best.”

Her heart sank upon hearing him confirm her fears. “So you are going back on the road when your year in Aspen ends?”

“Yes.”

“What about me? What about us? You know I can’t leave Pops, and the inn has been in my family forever. I can’t just abandon it or turn it over to strangers to manage.”

“I never intended for you to leave the inn. I’m going back to the lodge.”

“Wait. Don’t you want to talk about this?”

“There’s nothing to discuss. You’re pregnant with my child. I’ll make sure you have the assistance you need when I’m away on the job, and I’ll provide for the kid.”

Pain pierced her chest. She winced. “So you did marry me to get the deed. Then what? What was your plan after you had what you wanted, Gavin?”

He stared at her through eyes devoid of emotion—eyes that had only moments ago burned with passion. For her. She knew then that Gavin would never care for her the way she did him, and the reason he’d never said he’d loved her wasn’t because he didn’t know how to verbalize the words, but because he didn’t feel them.

Getting buried by an avalanche would have been less painful, less chilling than the realization that sex and land were all that mattered to him. For her the relationship was about so much more than just physical satisfaction.

She wrapped her arms around her middle. “If you married me to get the land then you have it. Mission accomplished. You don’t need me anymore. And I don’t need you. I’ll give you an uncontested divorce if you’ll sign over your rights to my child.”

“Our child.”

Numbly, Sabrina shook her head. “I grew up feeling unwanted and in the way and like a burden to my parents. As long as I’m breathing, my child will never experience that. If you don’t want him or her, if you don’t want us in your life, then you and I have nothing more to say. I’ll send someone for my things. Now please get out.”

Gavin let himself into the Black Spruce Lodge a few minutes before noon. The heavy snow falling had shut down construction. Just as well. With everyone on the site yapping about tomorrow’s Thanksgiving plans they weren’t getting much work done anyway, and he’d been eager to escape the chatter for the solitude of his home-away-from-home.

He hadn’t told anyone that he and Sabrina had split, but when he showed up at the family dinner without her they’d figure it out.

The silence of the house echoed around him and the sterile smell of hotel disinfectant lingered in the air. In the short time Sabrina had lived here she’d made her mark—particularly in the small kitchen. Each night when he’d come home from the site the delicious scents of the recipes she’d been testing had greeted him at the door, and the refrigerator had been filled with tasty and sometimes decadent morsels for him to munch on.

But not this week. This week the place smelled like sanitizer. His refrigerator was empty and Sabrina’s flowery shower gel wasn’t on the shelf by the tub. And even though he’d asked the maid not to, she still left chocolates on his pillows—chocolates that reminded him of making love to Sabrina, of painting her nipples and then lick—

He wiped a hand down his face, trying to sever that thought, but it was too late. Heat built like steam in his groin—heat that would have no outlet. He hung up his coat and headed for the minibar and a shot of Dewar’s. It burned all the way down his throat.

An odd restlessness rode his back. Why? He was used to hotels. Hell, he spent most of his life in generic, temporary accommodations. Free. Unencumbered. Uncluttered. And he liked it that way. So why did it feel as if something were missing now?

Deciding to forego lunch due to a lack of appetite, he opened his briefcase and extracted the Auckland file. He’d work until he got through the data. He considered lighting a fire, but that too brought back memories of making love to Sabrina in front of the crackling flames. He’d even given her rug burn on that—

He drowned the thought with another gulp of Scotch and headed upstairs to the loft office—where the fireplace was out of sight. He settled on the leather sofa and tried to focus on the geological reports, but it was slow going. His lids grew heavier with each passing second when normally the technical pre-construction specs fascinated him. He loved the challenge of anticipating problems before they arose. But not today.

What do you expect when you’re not sleeping at night?

That was only because he was worried about failing a kid as badly as Donald Jarrod had failed his children. Gavin and each of his siblings had baggage from their father’s brand of tough love.

Twenty minutes later—yeah, he was watching the clock—a knock at the door gave him an excuse to abandon his fruitless attempt. He made his way downstairs and opened the front door. A clean-cut twenty-something guy in a suit stood on the stoop. “Gavin Jarrod?”

“Yes.”

“This is for you, sir.” The young man handed over a thick envelope, then turned and departed before Gavin could dig a tip out of his pocket.

Curious, Gavin scanned the return address. An attorney’s office. “What in the hell?”

He hadn’t spoken to Henry since the separation, but the old man might have followed through with his promise to muck things up with inspectors since Gavin had hurt his granddaughter. The construction crew had barely begun. Plenty of stuff could go sour at this point.

He opened the tri-folded sheets expecting to find some kind of injunction to halt work on the lodge.

Divorce Petition.

The words hit him like a one-ton I beam slamming into his chest. Sabrina had filed for divorce. He flipped through the pages, skimming the legalese, most of it predetermined by their prenup, and then he came upon a second document—a form asking him to relinquish his paternal rights to the child she carried.

Gavin staggered backward until the living room sofa hit the backs of his legs. His knees buckled. He collapsed onto the cushion.

If he signed this then he’d have no reason, no right to contact Sabrina ever again or to see their child, and no reason to ever return to Aspen.

Sign it. It’s the best thing you can do for both of them. You’ll make a lousy husband and a worse father.

He pulled a pen from his pocket. His hand shook, quaking over the page until his eyes blurred. He couldn’t do it. He dropped the pen, shot to his feet and walked away from the papers lying on the table.

The idea of going another day—let alone a lifetime—without seeing Sabrina made it hard to breathe. His chest and throat burned as if a hot steel band constricted him. He glanced over his shoulder at the papers on the table. Signing them was the easy way out of all his problems. So why did the idea of walking away from her feel as if he were ripping out a part of himself? He’d never wanted a wife, and he’d sure as hell never wanted children.

Because you’ve fallen in love with the woman you married under false pretenses.

The realization stunned him. He didn’t do love.

Until now.

In their short time together, Sabrina had gotten to him and breached barriers he didn’t let people cross. She’d shown him how warm and welcoming a real home should be and reminded him how much he loved Aspen when his father wasn’t acting as a domineering killjoy. She’d taught him that real love meant sometimes putting another’s happiness ahead of your own.

For a moment when she’d been telling him about the baby there’d been a glow of hope and excitement in her eyes making them sparkle more than the diamond on her finger. And he’d killed it with his knee-jerk reaction and cruel words.

He wanted to see those emotions light up her face again. He couldn’t live a lifetime wondering if she and the child they’d created together were happy and flourishing. And leaving Aspen to avoid her the way he had his father seemed repugnant.

The most important lesson he’d learned from Sabrina was that bad parents didn’t necessarily make an emotionally crippled child. Look at her. Despite her parents’ lack of interest he’d never met a warmer or more generous woman. She relished making even strangers feel welcome in her home.

And she hadn’t let losing her husband or her first baby stop her from trying love again. She believed her late husband was the courageous one, but that man had nothing on Sabrina. Any child would be lucky to have her for a mother. Gavin fisted and released his hands by his side. He wanted a chance to raise that child with her even though he didn’t have the skills to handle the job.

Maybe with Sabrina’s help he could learn how to be a father.

You could end up failing Sabrina, your child and yourself.

But that was a risk he had to take. If it wasn’t too late.

But first he had to talk to his siblings. What he was considering wouldn’t affect just him. He had to find a way to prove to Sabrina that she was worth more to him than a hole in the ground.

“Kinda overdid the cooking, didn’t you?” Pops said.

Sabrina glanced up to see him looking over the top of his glasses at the kitchen work island laden with pies, cakes, cookies and an assortment of other dishes she’d prepared for tomorrow’s Thanksgiving meal.

She shrugged and continued kneading the dough for Friday’s sourdough coffee cake. “I had a lot of new recipes I wanted to try, plus all of Grandma’s favorites.”

“Did cookin’ fix what ailed ya?”

Her fingers twitched in the malleable mix. “I’m sorry?”

“Colleen always baked when she was upset. I ate best when she had issues to think through.”

Sabrina ducked her head. Was she so transparent? “I’m fine, Pops.”

He snorted. “You gonna let him get away with it?”

She considered playing dumb and asking “Who?” but Pops wouldn’t buy it. He’d been hovering since she’d moved back in, and his worrying about her wasn’t good for him. His agitation would only worsen once she told him about the baby. She hadn’t found the nerve to do that yet. “Let Gavin get away with what?”

“Running scared.”

“He’s not running scared. He married me for the land. He got it. He’s history.”

He shook his head. “If he was history you wouldn’t have cooked enough to feed a church congregation.”

Embarrassment burned her skin like a heat lamp. “The inn is at full occupancy. I want to have plenty to go around. You know our guests are ravenous when they return from the slopes.”

He tsked and shook his head. “Never known you to back down from a challenge, girlie. Always admired your grit. Until now.”

She flinched. “What would you have me do?”

“Nope. I’m not giving you the answer. You have to figure that out for yourself. But I’ll tell ya this much. Hiding in the kitchen and baking into the wee hours every morning ain’t gonna solve your problems or make you happy.” He shuffled out of the room.

The spacious room suddenly felt crowded and hot. She needed a break. Sabrina quickly washed and dried her hands, then plucked at her cowl-neck sweater. If only she could turn back the clock to October, back to when she’d been normal and numb. No. She smoothed a hand over her tummy. She didn’t want to go back. Going back meant undoing the miracle she and Gavin had created and forgetting those wonderful, magical, Christmas-card moments they had shared.

The only thing she’d change if given the chance was to slow everything down. Her relationship with Gavin had been too…everything. Too fast. Too intense. Too perfect. Too good to be true. And now…too painful.

What else could she do? She’d fought for her parents’ attention and failed to get it. Then she’d begged Russell to come home and share her grief after she’d miscarried. And even though his superiors would have granted him leave, Russell had chosen to stay with his men and do his job over being with her. She wasn’t going to set herself up for another rejection from Gavin.

If you don’t have the guts to ask for something, then you don’t deserve it. Sabrina heard her grandmother’s voice as clearly as if Colleen Caldwell were standing in the kitchen kneading dough and dispensing advice the way she’d done every summer of Sabrina’s life.

But was her grandmother’s wisdom right?

Sabrina fussed with the tie strings of her apron. No. She wasn’t going to beg for love. She wanted a man who chose to be with her, one who needed her as much as she did him. If Gavin wasn’t that man then she didn’t want him.

Yes, you do.

Sad, but true. She still loved him. Gavin had hurt her, but he’d also taught her how to play again, how to feel, and he’d shown her a side of Aspen she’d never experienced before—Aspen through the eyes of a native who truly loved this place, even though he let his father drive him away.

And that was the key, she realized. When you loved something or someone, you couldn’t let them push you away. You had to push back and fight for what you wanted.

She couldn’t walk away without at least making an attempt to see if what she’d shared with Gavin was more than just an act on his part. His touch, his lovemaking, his smiles had all seemed too genuine to have been nothing more than a pretense to seduce her into marriage.

And didn’t her child deserve better than an emotionally and geographically distant father? Yes. And the only way this baby had a chance at having an involved father was if Sabrina found the courage to confront Gavin and demand he be a better parent to their child than his or hers had been to them. If he’d already signed the relinquishment papers her lawyer had sent him then she’d just have to change his mind.

And, as Pops had so wisely pointed out, she couldn’t do that hiding in the kitchen.

“Meg?” she called.

The inn’s housekeeper stuck her head around the corner of the laundry room door. “Yes?”

“Everything is under control here. Leave the dough to rise and I’ll deal with it later. I’m going out.”

“In this weather? Honey, you’ll need sled dogs to travel now. The snow is really coming down. Visibility up on the mountains can’t be good. Our guests will be returning from the slopes before dark, I’m thinking.”

Surprised, Sabrina glanced out the kitchen window. Leaden skies dumped big, fat flakes. Her heart sank. “I guess I could put the chains on the tires.”

“Can’t whatever it is wait until tomorrow?”

“No. It can’t wait another minute.” She pulled on her coat, hat and gloves. “Dinner is in the oven. It’ll be done at five if I’m not back.”

“The girls and I can handle serving. Do what you’ve got to do. Just be careful out there.”

Sabrina felt a twinge of guilt at leaving the inn’s staff to cope, but that is why she’d hired extra help for the tourist season. She stepped out on the back porch and the cold hit her like a blow, but she gritted her teeth and headed for the barn to get the chains for the minivan’s tires. She’d made it halfway to the building when the sounds of bells caught her attention.

Her heart skipped at the memory of the carriage ride with Gavin and what had happened afterward. They’d made love and made a baby. She’d never be able to hear sleigh bells again without remembering. But right now she had more important things to do than reminisce.

She ducked her head and trudged onward, but the bells kept coming closer. She stubbornly refused to look. “Probably tourists taking a sleigh ride.”

She stepped into the cold barn, rummaged until she located the chains and headed back out the side door only to stop in her tracks. A sleigh she didn’t recognize stood in the inn’s driveway, but two familiar horses snorted frosty white clouds into the air from the harnesses. The man stepping down from the vehicle didn’t glance her way, but she’d recognize that muscular frame and that confident bearing anywhere. Gavin. He marched toward the inn’s back door.

“Gavin,” she called out, her voice cracking.

He stopped and pivoted. Her heart swooped to her stomach like a skier plunging down the mountainside. He closed the distance between them in long determined strides.

She wet her dry lips. “What are you doing here?”

He looked tired and tense as his dark eyes prowled slowly over her, resurrecting memories of his hands and mouth doing the same. He jerked his head toward the sleigh. “Get in.”

Her breath hitched. “It’s cold. Are you sure you wouldn’t rather put the horses in the barn and go inside the inn?”

“If we go into that barn together, we’re going to end up making love and not talking. And as much as I want you, it’ll have to wait.”

A quiver started deep inside her, then worked its way outward until her entire body trembled. “Oh. I—I—” The tire chains in her hands rattled. She swallowed and tried again. “I was coming to see you.”

He took the chains from her, carried them back to the barn. She took the sixty seconds while he was out of sight to try and gather her shattered composure. Why was he here? The divorce papers? The relinquishment form? Both should have been delivered this morning.

He returned. “The sleigh is safer than slick tires. Let’s go.”

He gripped her elbow and pulled her forward, hitting her body with a bolus of adrenaline. How could his touch affect her so deeply? He’d married her for land. Or had he? Was Pops right? Was Gavin running scared? Heaven knew the way he made her feel terrified her.

“Are you sure the horses will be okay?”

“They’re conditioned to the weather and they have the proper shoes.” He helped her into the vehicle but this wasn’t the one they’d used before. This one had runners instead of wheels. She settled on the seat and pulled the blankets over her legs. He climbed in beside her, his body only inches from hers, then released the brake and clucked to the horses. He guided them back to the road where, thankfully, the traffic was light due to the heavily falling snow.

“Where are we going?”

“Wait and see. Are you warm enough?”

“Yes.” An electric blanket kept the chill away and the curved top kept the snow off their heads. But neither did anything for her doubts. She knotted her gloved hands and tried to find the words to broach her request. How did you order a man to be a good father? Giving him a chance to concentrate on maneuvering them through traffic was the perfect excuse to stay silent.

He turned the sleigh into the Jarrod Ridge driveway, then took the path toward the mine—the cause behind everything that had happened in the past twenty-four whirlwind days. Their meeting, dating, marriage, baby and separation.

“Look in the compartment,” he said.

Sabrina leaned forward and opened the small box in the front dashboard of the carriage. She withdrew a sheaf of papers and unrolled them. She’d seen this document before. “It’s the deed to the mine.”

“Made out to you.”

She scanned the words and saw her name, verifying what he said. “Why?”

He pulled the horses to a stop beneath a covered shelter that hadn’t been here last time she’d visited the mine, then he set the brake and dropped the reins. She looked around, noting the stakes and the trenches in the nearby soil rapidly getting covered with snow. “I’ve halted construction on the lodge.”

“Why?” she repeated.

“Because I married you under false pretenses, this land is rightfully yours.” He paused and swallowed, his dark gaze unwavering. “But I’m hoping you’ll share it with me. With our child.”

Stunned, she stared at him. “What are you saying, Gavin?”

“I may have married you for the wrong reasons, but I fell in love with you for the right ones.”

Her eyes, throat and lungs burned. She searched his eyes, seeing the truth, the emotion behind the words. He loved her. “Gavin—”

He held up a hand. “Hear me out. You stole my heart, Sabrina, with your smiles, your generosity and your courage. You reminded me why I love this place.”

The pages crumpled in her hands. He took them from her and dropped them on the seat, then climbed down from the carriage and held out his hand. Too dumbfounded to do anything else, Sabrina placed hers in his and let him assist her from the carriage. Cold as it was, she resented the gloves separating their flesh. He led her toward the path and stopped a hundred feet away at the overlook where he’d allowed Pops to rest the day they’d hiked to the mine.

“I told Henry that if I ever returned to Aspen I’d build a house here overlooking the valley. That day I didn’t have the courage to face the bitter memories I’d left here. Today, because of you, I do.”

“Gavin, I don’t want to be any man’s anchor. You love your job.”

“You’re no one’s anchor. You’re the fulcrum on which everything else balances. The idea of not being able to come home to you every day, to hold you in my arms at night and to make love with you knocks me off center.”

Her knees went weak. “You’re not saying this just because of the baby, are you?”

He shook his head. “I never expected to find you. The baby is a bonus—first of several I hope to have with you. Let’s build a home in this spot overlooking the inn and raise a family together.”

“But you love your job—”

“I’ve traveled the globe because I had no reason to put down roots. I was trying to fill a void, an emptiness that you erased the moment I met you. I can limit myself to local assignments or consult on projects that won’t keep me away from you for weeks on end.”

He peeled off his gloves, then hers. When they were skin to skin, palm to palm with their fingers laced he squeezed her hands. “Be my reason for coming home.”

He was offering everything she’d ever dreamed of. “I don’t want you to feel as if you’re giving up everything for me, for us. I don’t want our child to feel like you resent his presence.”

“I love you and I will love this child and any others we might have. I promise you, Sabrina, if you’ll allow me to be a part of your life, I’ll be losing nothing and gaining everything.” He lifted her chin with his knuckle. “Tell me I haven’t lost you, that you still love me.”

A tear scalded its way down her cheek. Gavin brushed it away before it had a chance to cool. “I do love you, Gavin. And I want to spend the rest of my life showing you how much.”

“I promise you won’t regret it.”

He pulled her into his arms and kissed her so tenderly Sabrina’s tears overflowed, then he pulled back and tugged her down the path.

“Where are we going?”

“Into the mine. I want to carve my initials next to yours in that beam for all the future Jarrod generations to see. One of these days we’ll be telling our grandkids it all started with a little hole in the ground…one filled with silver and dreams, but the riches weren’t in the minerals.”

Special thanks and acknowledgment to Emilie Rose for her contribution to the Dynasties: The Jarrods miniseries.

ISBN: 978-1-4268-7474-1

WEDDING HIS TAKEOVER TARGET

Copyright © 2010 by Harlequin Books S.A.

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