Snowy Mountain Nights (5 page)

“That was me showing you how much I'd like to
woo
you.” His voice sounded deeper to his own ears, rumbling lower than its normal register.

“No!” Reyna backed away from him, her voice high in panic. “This
cannot
happen.” Her harsh breath chuffed steam in the air.

A bitter-tasting disquiet coated Garrison's tongue. Had he done something she hadn't wanted? Had he hurt her? But he quickly remembered the returned heat of Reyna's kisses, the soft noises she'd made as she desperately tried to get closer to him. It hadn't just been him in a fever.

But she abruptly turned and stepped past him, going the way they had come. “Stay away from me.” A trace of fear laced her voice. “This is me telling you no.” She disappeared quickly into the snow-covered trees.

Chapter 5

R
eyna woke to the sound of Bridget's gentle snores. The small clock on the bedside table told her it was barely ten o'clock. The thick window shades shielded her from the sun, but she could actually feel the lateness of the morning. She'd barely slept three hours.

She closed her eyes and moved restlessly in the bed. The reason for her mostly sleepless night floated beneath her eyelids. Garrison. She could almost feel the thrum of lust between them again. His mouth on hers. The commanding stroke of his tongue that melted her from the inside out. She remembered, shamefully, the way she had moaned his name under the night sky, ready to fall into the snow and allow him to do
anything
to her.

The passion had flared so readily between them that it made her breathless, caught completely off guard. It had frightened her more than a little. Even in her marriage, she'd never felt such a dreadful need to be close to someone, to strip and lay herself bare and devour, then be devoured in return. There was no logic to the attraction.

This was
Garrison Richards
. The “tiger shark lawyer” of New York. Since her divorce, she'd run across his name often enough in the papers and online to know she hadn't been the only one to leave a meeting with him feeling eviscerated and cast adrift.

Reyna stirred again under the sheets at the thought, a dull ache throbbing in her belly. She was betraying herself with every lustful thought she had of Garrison, continuing to swing the wrecking ball he had taken to her life all those years ago. The ache in her stomach sharpened, and she bit her lip until she tasted blood. Next to her, Bridget drew in a breath. Her snores stopped, and one eye flickered open.

“Is it time to get up already?” Bridget's voice was rough with sleep.

“For some people, but we're on vacation so we can sleep as late as we like.”

But Bridget sat up and rubbed her eyes. She reached up to make sure her sleeping cap was still in place. “The slopes are calling.”

She left the bed and disappeared into their shared bathroom. Reyna snuggled into her pillow and slipped back into her waking dream. The warmth from the blankets easily lulled her back down into the sweetly torturous cycle of desire, regret and self-flagellation that the remembered kiss with Garrison evoked. She groaned and squeezed her eyes tightly shut. Someone knocked on the door. Before she could invite them in, the door popped open, and Louisa stood in the threshold.

“Come on, sleepyheads, the powder is gorgeous today.”

“Can the non-skiers get a break?” she muttered, snuggling deeper into the sheets.

“No way! Marceline just finished making breakfast. Get yourself decent and come out to eat. You know the routine by now.”

Reyna whined and covered her head. After four years of coming to the resort with her friends, the routine was one she was very familiar with: get up and get your butt out of bed or else. That didn't mean she had to like it.

But when Bridget left the bathroom smelling of toothpaste and mouthwash, Reyna pulled herself out of bed and got it together. The other women were already gathered around the kitchen table when she emerged from her room a few minutes later in her thick robe and slippers. She followed the smells of coffee and bacon to the only empty chair at the table. The room was loud with the sound of her friends' laughing voices. Even Marceline was in on the discussion about whether or not it was possible to actually die from an orgasm.

“Anyone who knows firsthand obviously isn't here to tell.” Louisa laughed and reached for a slice of bacon from the platter at the center of the table.

“Oh, my God! I would die if my man croaked on me.” Marceline braced her elbows on the table and had both hands wrapped around a steaming mug of coffee. Her hair was loose and tumbled around her face, lending her a relaxed, almost carefree air. “Can you imagine?”

“I don't have to imagine it,” Bridget said. “Remember the time I dated that older guy, the chef from LA?”

The women laughed, all of them remembering exactly whom Bridget was talking about. She seemed to always have a man-related anecdote for every occasion.

“You didn't have any business dating that old man!” Louisa chortled. “Every time he saw you, he damn near had a heart attack. Your cleavage alone gave him palpitations.”

Bridget grinned. “But he made such heavenly food and had the most talented hands. It seemed a shame not to try him out all the way.”

“Then you almost put him in the grave,” Reyna said. She poured herself a cup of coffee from the pot already on the table.

“Hmm! Almost is not the same thing as doing.” Bridget laughed, her eyes crinkling at the corners.

She tucked her legs under her at the table and cracked a piece of bacon with her fingertips, looking more like a mischievous child than the grown progeny of adoring multibillionaires.

“What about you, Reyna? I can't believe someone as pretty as you never had a thing with a sugar daddy.”

Reyna shrugged under their sudden attention, suspecting that they had been talking about her before she came into the kitchen. “You all know everything there is to know about my love life. I don't have one.” A sad truth. After her divorce, she'd dated a few times, but nothing that she'd allowed to become too serious.

“He's not exactly old, but what about that sexy guy from yesterday?” Louisa waved a business card under Reyna's nose. Garrison's. “He's definitely interested.” Her lips quirked up. “You could do much worse than him for a vacay booty call.”

“Mmm-hmm. That man's booty is too nice for you to turn down,” Bridget teased Reyna over her shoulder. “Did you see how nicely he filled out those jeans?”

Reyna winced at the idea of Bridget checking out Garrison's butt. The woman's appetite knew no bounds, and it did something bad to Reyna's insides that her friend could potentially set her sights on the tempting lawyer.
Her
lawyer.

“Even if Reyna noticed his fineness, she's not going to tell us.” Louisa grabbed a can of whipped cream from the fridge and squirted a swirl of it in her coffee. “She's as secretive as a nun about her sex life.”

“A nun?” Marceline, a staunch Catholic, narrowed her gaze at Louisa. “Nuns don't have sex!”

Bridget giggled. “Not according to the movies I've seen.”

“Okay, ladies. That's enough.” Reyna threw up her hands. “Don't you have a ski day to get ready for?”

Louisa chuckled. “Can we at least finish our breakfast first, Sister Reyna?”

The other women laughed.

Once they were finished with their meal, Marceline and the others showered and got themselves ready for the slopes while Reyna gathered the things she would need for her day: a book, bathing suit, calf-length hooded parka and thick gloves.

An hour later, she waved goodbye to her friends, who were all sexy and sleek in their ski clothes, and headed to one of the resort's large outdoor hot tubs with a view of the mountains. She passed the spread-out cabins, some with smoke still piping from their chimneys, and nodded to the few people who passed her on the way to a late breakfast or the ski lift.

It was morning and prime skiing time. The best time for Reyna to be at the hot tub. Most people took advantage of one of the three massive, circular hot tubs after a long day on the slopes.

The day was cold, the snow from last night still scattered on the walkway and around the tubs. Reyna's boots crunched over the snow, and she enjoyed the sound of it, a lonely and lovely kind of music in each step. What the resort-goers called the “play area” was empty, just as she'd hoped. The pools were covered for the season, but the three hot tubs were already bubbling, their jets gurgling in the clear and bright morning.

Reyna settled her things around her, then she quickly stripped to her bikini and splashed into the tub. Heated water immediately embraced her up to her chin. She shivered with pleasure.

The sun pleasantly stroked her face with its heat while steam rose from the water around her. Directly in front of her was one of the most spectacular views in the world. The brilliant blue sky and the mountain range stretched out far into the horizon. Along the edge of the Halcyon property, the tall evergreens danced in the morning breeze.

Reyna sighed again and rested her head back against the towel she had folded for just that purpose. The water soaked into her body, loosening her muscles and releasing the tension she'd been holding for weeks. But as she relaxed, it wasn't long before her mind drifted to the events of the night before and to Garrison.

When she'd run away from him, she had also been running away from herself. Or at least trying to. There were so many things wrong with her attraction for him. He was ruthless, cold. The type of man she'd always been contemptuous of, always putting business before everything else. Workaholic, conscienceless, boring, a hard-ass. But why was it that everything about him also made her burn?

“It looks like you're entertaining some serious thoughts.”

Her eyes flew away from the mountains. Garrison—
damn him!
—stood nearby. He was dressed for another day of snowboarding in a new set of gray clothes that only emphasized his raw masculinity. Charcoal jacket and pants, black gloves and a thick gray hat pulled low over his ears. Mirrored sunglasses covered his eyes.

“Are you stalking me again?”

“Not at all. This time I got an invitation.” His snow boots thudded dully on the concrete near her. He took off his sunglasses and hooked them in his jacket pocket.

Without asking, Reyna knew it was Louisa who'd told him where she was. She remembered her friend toying with Garrison's card, looking as if she was up to no good.

“Next time you should make sure the invitation is from me before you show up,” she said coldly. But she couldn't ignore the excited beat of her heart at his presence.

“Were my kisses that awful last night, Reyna?” His voice was a low and rumbling tease with a hint of concern. And the sound of her name on his lips...

Reyna's face grew warm. His voice took her back to that moment of mouth-on-mouth bliss, his gloved hands branding her hips through her clothes, the cool brush of his nose when she'd tilted her head to kiss him even more deeply. It was impossible to forget how fresh he had tasted, like limes and a necessary drink of water. She licked her lips as if the taste of him still lay there.

The ghost of a smile touched his mouth, and he seemed relieved. “I'll take that as a no, then.”

Reyna drew a quick breath. Garrison's words cut her more deeply than perhaps they should have. It was humiliating, but he could see straight through her to the woman who was weak enough to forgive what he had done to her just for a chance to writhe shamelessly under him for his pleasure, and hers. But she didn't want to be that woman. What he'd done was unforgivable. Despite what he said the night before, he had
not
changed, and she didn't need to make herself look any more desperate than she already felt.

She bit down hard on the inside of her lip. “Please don't make any assumptions where I'm concerned. Just because I'm having a supreme lack of judgment right now doesn't mean I'm going to sleep with you and pretend five years ago never happened.”

The hint of a smile fell from his face. “I wouldn't want you to pretend with me, Reyna.”

She couldn't suppress the bone-deep quiver at the way his tongue curled again around her name.

“The past can't be erased,” he continued. “I know that. But I want us to work through it and put it behind us. I want you in my bed.”

She shook her head, mouth dry, feelings conflicted. She should jump up and tell him no again, tell him to leave her alone. But the words wouldn't come.

Garrison dragged a lawn chair closer to the tub and, heedless of the scattered snow on the piece of furniture, sat down. She flushed, realizing that he could see straight into the water to the bikini she wore. Not that she was ashamed of her body, but the intimacy of it and the heat in his gaze made her want to cover herself. Under the water, her nipples grew hard. She shifted her thighs beneath his lazy regard but refused to look away from him. He was the one intruding, after all.

“Garrison, please,” she finally said. But she didn't know exactly what she was pleading for.

He seemed to sense the confusion in her, not pressing for an explanation, only waiting, watching. She was the one who broke first.

“I came out here to relax. Not to argue or fend off—” she couldn't bring herself to say
unwanted
“—advances. This is my vacation.”

He nodded, a single dip of his dimpled chin. “Perfect. We both agree that this is a vacation, not combat.” The chair sighed with his weight. His lashes flickered when he looked away from her to the almost painful blue of the sky. “Truce?”

Reyna bit her lip. “Truce.”

“Good.” His eyes didn't stay away from her for very long. “Why aren't you on the mountain with the rest of them?”

Reyna blew out a breath of calming air. This was how they were going to play it? Okay. She could play along with the best of them. “Why aren't
you
? I hear it's perfect powder today.”

“It is.” He nodded and threw a glance upward to the snowy peaks above the resort. “But I had a few things to sort out for work this morning.”

“Ah, a workaholic.”

“No. A pragmatist. If I deal with this now, then I can ease into my day on Monday.”

“So a pragmatist
and
a workaholic, then,” she said.

“Do you have an issue with workaholics?”

“Not at all. It just means that you're no fun.”
Damn.
Was she actually flirting with him?

He raised an eyebrow. “I've never had any complaints about my level of fun.” His eyes dipped again to her body in the water. “Speaking of complaints, I have none regarding this gorgeous view, but you should come to the top of the mountain with me.”