Rocky Mountain Miracle (19 page)

Silence stretched out between them.

She didn't want to see his face, to know he thought she was crazy. Why had she said anything? Would she ever learn? She was falling in love with him, and it was far too soon. Love wasn't supposed to happen so fast, rushing at her like an avalanche. She knew better. She spooned loose-leaf tea into the teapot, thankful the kitchen was a chef's delight and so well stocked with everything. Once again she was blowing her chances with a man she could care about because she admitted her affinity with animals.

Maia spun around. “You know what? I don't care if you believe me or not. This is who I am, and I'm not going to apologize for it.” She pushed her hand through her hair in agitation. “I like animals better than people anyway.”

His eyebrow shot up. “You don't like them better than you like me.”

“Yes I do. I don't know what I was thinking.” She glared at him, angry at herself for being so vulnerable to whatever he might think of her.

“You were thinking the animals might be warning us about something, and it was important.” He tried his hand at teasing her. “ Has anyone ever called you Dr. Doolittle?”

“No! And they'd better never do it either.”

His blue eyes moved over her face with cool amusement. “You have a temper.” Obviously he wasn't that good at teasing, but he liked her reaction.

“No, I don't. Well,” she hedged. “Okay, maybe I do. But the fact is, I don't care whether you believe me or not.” She couldn't tell if he was making fun of her or whether he really meant what he said—that he was worried the animals
were warning them. It didn't seem possible that he could believe her.

“Yes you do.”

His voice was low, a seduction of her senses that she felt all the way through her body. “I hate that you're so good at flirting, Steele. You've been a playboy for so long, you don't know when to stop.”

He stood up, an act of aggression, and she recognized it as such, stepping back until she was pressed tightly against the sink, one hand up to stop him. “I'm tired of you calling me insulting names, Maia.”

“I wasn't insulting you, I was stating a fact. You're too experienced, and you know it and you use it, and I just want to kick you for it,” she defended.

He walked right up to her, his chest pressing into her palm until it was the only thing between them. She could feel his muscles beneath the thin shirt, the rise and fall of his breath, the steady beat of his heart. His skin radiated heat. “Back off, Steele.”

“I'm about to apologize again. I seem to do that a lot nowadays.”

There was genuine amusement in his voice. Real laughter even if his mouth didn't curve into a smile. It was in his eyes, in his voice. She felt it in his chest.
She
had given him that gift, and she knew it. There was seduction in the knowledge. She stared, fascinated at the warmth that replaced the ice in his eyes. He lowered his head until his lips were inches from hers. Until his breath was warm against her mouth.

He kissed her hard, taking her breath, devouring her rather than coaxing her. His arms swept around her, pulled her to him, fitting her body into his.

Maia melted into him, her body going pliant, her mouth answering with a ravenous hunger of her own. Her arms slipped around his neck, fingers tangled in his hair, and she gave herself up to his kiss. His hand slid up her back inside her shirt, fingers splayed wide to take in as much bare skin as possible. Heat spread, heat and hunger and need. His kiss deepened, and his hand closed possessively over her breast.

Maia gasped and arched into his palm. His mouth left hers, blazed across her chin, down her neck to nuzzle at her breast until she moaned a soft protest, her arms cradling his head to her. “Stop. We have to stop.”

“Actually, I'd rather not.” He kissed his way back up to her mouth, settled there with long, persuading kisses.

Maia kissed him right back but kept a hand wedged between them. “I'm not quite ready for this.”

He groaned and rested his forehead against hers. “I am.”

“Yes, well now I'm the one apologizing,” Maia said. “I have to be certain of what I'm doing and what I'm getting into. I'm sorry, Cole. I'm just made that way.”

“I like the way you're made, Maia, but dammit all, I want you in my bed.”

“I do rather like the way you apologize,” Maia said, touching her fingertips to her mouth, a faint smile appearing as he swore. She could still feel him burning on her lips. Could still feel his hands on her skin. She ached, her body tight and full and edged with need. She had to go upstairs, right away, or she was going to take her clothes off right there in the kitchen and give him more than he ever bargained for.

“Good. I have the feeling I'm going to have spend a lot of time apologizing to you.”

“You're probably right.” She removed the teakettle from the heat. “I'm going to bed now. Alone. It's the only safe thing to do.”

“You're certain I can't change your mind?”

“No, that's why I'm leaving now before it's too late.” She slipped past him and hurried away, leaving him standing in the kitchen with a rueful expression on his face. She was fairly certain it was a good thing he couldn't read her mind.

“C
OME ON
, J
ASE
, D
OC
, bundle up, and let's go looking for a tree. We have a couple hours of break in the storm, and this might be the best opportunity we have.”

“What did the weather report say?” Maia asked.

Cole gave her a sharp glance. “Don't think you're escaping when you've got a mountain lion penned up in my shed and a horse in the barn and a teenage boy looking for a huge meal. I don't have the time to clear the road and let you out even if I were so inclined, which I'm not.”

“You'll do anything to get out of cooking, won't you?” Maia said, her grin as contagious as always. She slipped into her jacket and pulled on gloves. “I'm definitely going with you. I'm very particular about trees.”

Jase and Cole exchanged a long, amused look, then groaned in union. “You would be,” Cole said. “We'll take the snowmobiles and head out toward the upper ridge. The fir trees are thick there, and we can top one of them.”

“Why are we just taking the top of the tree?” Jase asked.

“We don't want to kill the tree,” Cole said. “I like our trees. You can never have enough trees.”

Jase looked out the window toward the tree-covered
mountain. “Guess not. We'd have such a shortage if we took the whole tree.” He exchanged a grin with Maia.

“I did notice the trees on the ranch were getting thin from all the Christmas celebrations going on around here,” Maia teased.

Cole opened the door to the mudroom and waved them through. “I can't believe how funny the two of you are. I let you spend a little time together taking care of that horse, and you develop a comedy routine.”

Maia leaned in close to Jase, her arm slipping around his shoulders. “He's grouchy this morning.”

“Yeah, it's the one cup of coffee syndrome. I've seen it before,” Jase replied. “No one talks to him before the first cup of coffee, or he bites off their head. After the first cup of coffee he growls at everyone, but there's no biting.”

Cole caught Maia around the waist, bringing her to a halt, his teeth scraping back and forth at the nape of her neck. “I bite after the first cup of coffee if you deserve it,” he warned. His teeth nipped a little harder, sending chills down her back. His tongue swirled over the sting right before he pressed a kiss against it.

“Bite Jase if you're going to bite someone,” Maia admonished, shoving at him.

“Ugg. That's sick, Doc,” Jase protested. “Totally sick. Cole, don't you even try biting my neck.”

A slow, mischievous grin curved Cole's mouth very slowly, giving him a young, boyish look. Maia's breath caught in her throat. Jase backed away from him, laughing, holding out a hand to stop his older brother's purposeful advance.

“Back off!” He dashed out into the snow.

Deliberately, Cole pelted his brother with several snow-
balls, packing the white flakes into round balls and heaving the missiles on the run. Maia sided with Jase, just as Cole knew she would, throwing snowballs with good aim, scoring several hits. She threw hard and accurate so he was forced to turn away from his intended victim to protect himself. To his astonishment, Jase tackled him from behind, throwing him into the snow and leaping off, running, his laughter carried away by the wind.

The sound stirred some long-forgotten emotion in Cole. He had to fight back a lump in his throat and blink to clear what had to be tears from his burning eyes. He got up slowly, keeping his back to the two of them, shaking with the tidal wave of intense feelings Jase and Maia roused in him. A dam really had burst somewhere deep inside of him, blown open by the happiness spilling over from a simple snowball war.

Or maybe it was so much more than that. Maybe it was all the things in his life he had now that he'd never had, never trusted, and never thought he wanted.

He watched Maia chase Jase through the snow. Her cheeks were red and her eyes filled with merriment, with happiness. He had all but forgotten those things until he found her. The boy was throwing missiles as fast as he could, but Maia clearly had him on the run. Cole could only stare at her, flooded with the knowledge that the intensity of the emotions she brought to him was the very thing he had feared from her. He loved her. It was too fast and too insane for someone like him to even consider, but he knew he needed her. And Jase needed her too.

Jase turned and streaked past Cole, skidding to a halt behind him so that a snowball landed with a splat on Cole's chest. The snow was dazzling white, nearly blinding
him. He pushed sunglasses on his nose and settled them in place just as Maia plowed into him. Catching her in his arms, he fell backward, Maia landing on top of him. He rolled, pinning her beneath him.

Time seemed to stop, and he felt his heart somersault, his stomach tighten. She was so damned beautiful lying beneath him with her eyes so full of life.

Cole bent his head and kissed her. Hard. Hungry. Hot. Meaning it.

Maia stared up at him a long moment, the only sound their mingled breathing. She felt her heart stuttering hard in her chest. Little butterflies fluttered in her stomach. She was falling hard. Fast. She didn't even know if Cole was capable of loving her. It was frightening to think how much she cared when she didn't have the slightest idea of his real feelings. Needing space, she scooped up a handful of snow and plastered it against the side of his head. “Cool off, Slick, we're hunting for a tree.”

Cole studied her face, the way she suddenly withdrew from him. He had to let her go, with Jase standing over them, but he didn't want to. He wanted to hold her to him. Instead, he made himself wipe at the wet snow trickling down his face. He raised his eyebrow. “You take all the fun out of things.”

“I do my best.” She shoved at his chest. “And we're getting that tree today. All the kisses in the world aren't going to change my mind.”

Cole got to his feet, pulling Maia up with him. Jase sat in the snow staring at them as if they'd both grown new heads. “You going to sit there all day?” Cole asked.

“I just might,” Jase said, and took the hand Cole
extended to help him up. He was grinning from ear to ear, and Cole resisted the urge to drop him back in the snow.

Jase moved ahead of them, bounding like a frisky colt through the snow to the garage housing the snowmobiles. Cole paused just outside the door, staring up at the second garage looming taller right alongside the first building.

“What is it?” Maia asked.

“I don't know exactly.” But he suddenly wished he were alone, able to conduct an investigation.

“What's in there?”

“The helicopter and a small plane.”

“Really? You have your own helicopter? Do you fly it?”

“Yes. I can fly both the plane and the helicopter. I was in the service for a while. It was the best way to get away from the ranch and have enough money to live. The old man could have destroyed or bought any company I chose to work for, but he couldn't exactly make the Air Force disappear.”

“The things I'm learning about you are fascinating.” She took a step toward the larger garage but stopped when Cole put a hand on her shoulder. He was looking around the countryside, his eyes flat and hard and ice-cold. She froze, taking her cue from him.

Cole caught the brief glint of light reflected from a ridge up above the house. He didn't make the mistake of staring into it, but a chill went down his back. It could have been a scope, but more likely it was binoculars. Deliberately he glanced up at the sky. “We'd better find that tree before the next storm hits.”

Jase eagerly shoved open the garage doors to reveal several snowmobiles. “Come on, Doc, I'll race you!”