Storm Front (Reunited Hearts) (2 page)

He’d
reached a pleasant stupor when he felt a startling poke on his arm.

“Hey!”
the shrill woman said, “Don’t fall asleep.”

He
grunted and opened his eyes to glare at her.

“Don’t
fall asleep.” She was trying to focus on the road but kept darting looks over
at him. “I think you have a concussion. Don’t fall asleep.”

He
sneered at her, although the rational part of his mind knew she had a point.
She was rather bossy and obnoxious, although prettier than he’d realized
initially. It wasn’t just her small, lush body. She had vibrant green eyes and
full, sensual lips. The wet hair and skin did nothing to detract from her
obvious allure.

Checking
him again, she frowned when she caught him staring. “You’re not going to be
sick, are you? Because I’m happy to drive you somewhere safe, but Florence
Nightingale I’m not.”

The
ironic snap to her voice was familiar, and suddenly several details about her
appearance coalesced into knowledge. “I know you.”

She
arched her eyebrows. “Just figuring that out, are you? Nothing like a blow to
the head to dull one’s wit.”

Despite
his injury and the urgency of the situation, Michael couldn’t help but feel a
swell of appreciation for her cleverness and composure. She was indeed
obnoxious—always had been—but remarkable just the same. “Allison Dent.”

“It’s
been a long time,” she said, facing the road again, her shoulders tense as she
concentrated on steering the vehicle through the storm.

They’d
grown up in the same hometown—Whitesville—not too far away from here. He was
several years older than her, but everyone knew everyone else in that town.

She
continued, “It’s not hard to keep up with your doings, though, since they’re
always plastered over newspapers and gossip blogs.”

He
frowned, remembering how he’d been practically forced into hiding recently by
the merciless journalists who thought both his business and personal life were
fair game.

Michael
hated reporters.

“You
wanted to be a journalist, didn’t you?” he asked, rubbing his head and trying
to stay awake. “Please don’t tell me that’s what you are.”

She
gave him a curious look.

With
another surge of anger at the most recent invasion of his privacy, he said in
clipped tones, “Journalists are my least favorite people at the moment, so I
might need to find an alternate rescuer.”

“No
worries. I’m a harmless administrative assistant. I guess you’ve been hounded
pretty hard, huh? That’s what you get for getting engaged to someone as
photogenic as Gina, putting a rock the size of my fist on her finger, and then
breaking it off without explanation.”

Michael
eyed her coldly, not appreciating the sardonic note in her voice. She had no
idea what had happened with Gina, who’d been in the same class as Allison back
in their hometown, and he had no intention of allowing the painful truth to
show up in a news cycle.

Allison
had always been smart and ambitious. She might not be a reporter, but she could
easily speak to one. He wasn’t about to share anything private with her.

The
conversation faded as the weather got even worse. The rain was dumping down so
violently Michael couldn’t see even a few yards in front of them. He was amazed
that she was able to keep the SUV on the road.

He
only relaxed when she pulled the car into a driveway and put it in park in
front of the door of a large house. The lines of the house were blurred from
the rain, but the structure was made of gray stone and reminded Michael of a
castle.

He
was still a little unsteady on his feet, the dizziness returning as he hauled
himself out of the passenger seat. Allison came around to support him again,
saying the side door would be easier to break into, and they slowly hobbled
around the house.

Michael
was vaguely mortified by his own weakness and helplessness, but he couldn’t
help but enjoy the feel of Allison’s body against his. She wasn’t tall but she
was lusciously formed, with rich curves he found himself staring at as they
walked.

Now
that he knew who she was, his physical responses to her were even stronger.

She
wasn’t just a beautiful stranger.

Allison
was a woman he’d taken to bed, when both of them had been young. A night whose
sensual memory still hadn’t left him, even seven years later.

*
* *

Allison had been only eighteen
and Michael twenty-two, but she’d been an intern for his father that summer, so
they’d been thrown together a lot.

He’d
been very young himself—working in his dad’s company for the summer before he
started his MBA—and he’d wanted her more than he should.

Finally,
one evening he’d been weak. He’d given into temptation.

They
were working late in the office, alone, when her sparkling eyes, tender smile,
and soft warmth became irresistible.

Michael
had kissed her, and she responded—passionately.

Soon
they’d moved to a big sofa in the office where he lost himself in her
completely.

She
was a virgin, but she wasn’t afraid. Her hands, mouth, and body were eager as
she rocked and writhed beneath him. Michael was overwhelmed with her sweetness,
her innocence, and her fire.

Allison
had wanted him for him, and he knew it as he sank inside her for the first and
only time.

After
the initial discomfort, she’d grown pliant and fervent beneath him. She moved
with his intensifying urgency, meeting each of his thrusts, and their rhythm
grew more and more frantic as pleasure built up between them.

Michael
had been surrounded by the fresh fragrance of her hair and by the sound of her
pretty moans and gasps. She panted hotly against his neck as her body
tightened, and her fingers clawed at his back when her tension crested into
climax.

His
own tension had unleashed at her breathless cry and at the deep tremors he felt
run through her.

The
rush of pleasure was more than physical. He felt satisfied in a way he’d never
experienced in sex, cradled in the hot sweetness of her body.

It
was just the one time, but he shouldn’t have given in to his desire at all.

Life
soon took them apart.

But
the shuddering of her body in his arms, her needy kisses against his lips, the
way she breathed out his name with her panting…he never really forgot.

*
* *

Allison didn’t know why
she’d lied to Michael about being a reporter, but something about the
bitterness in his eyes had troubled her, and she hadn’t wanted to risk any
further conflict in such a crisis situation.

It
also occurred to her that she might learn something useful about him, something
that could help her with a story. She’d always been driven, and she’d never been
ashamed of her ambition. She’d just gotten the promotion she’d been working
toward for three years, and the last thing she was going to do was let a
perfect opportunity slip by her.

She
didn’t know how this chance encounter with Michael Martin might help her
career, and she didn’t even know if she’d want to use it.

If
he found out she was a reporter, however, she’d blow her only advantage.

That
summer she’d interned for his father, she’d been crazy about Michael. It wasn’t
just a teenage crush. It had been real, intense, and physical. The more time
she spent working with him, the deeper the bond had grown.

She’d
given him her virginity after being caught up in a rush of feeling and desire
one evening. She didn’t regret it. At the time, she’d been sure that Michael
had valued her and appreciated their night together, although it was obvious he
wouldn’t pursue a relationship. She was going away to college soon anyway.

Now,
however, she didn’t know if he’d ever felt anything for her at all.

When
she’d known him in Whitesville, he’d been quiet and intense. He’d always been
treated like a king by their town—because of his father—but he’d never seemed
to be a spoiled asshole.

Either
she’d been wrong or he’d changed.

The
years since then had confirmed Michael’s reputation as a player and a ruthless
businessman. His romantic affairs were high-profile and numerous. It wasn’t
until recently that he’d made even the gesture of settling down with one woman,
and that engagement had ended dramatically—with Gina throwing the engagement
ring at Michael’s face in the middle of the lobby of his corporate headquarters
and screaming about his being a liar and a cheat.

It
was hard to hold onto the fond memory of a lost love when the man had proven
himself to be so cold and heartless in the years that followed.

Allison
had put it behind her, and she certainly wasn’t going to leave an injured man
stranded on the side of the road.

But
she also didn’t really trust him, so she kept the fact that she was a reporter
in her pocket.

She
was soaked, shaky, and exhausted when they reached the side door of the big
house. It was locked, of course. Allison considered a few options, swiping rain
out of her eyes. She’d done a certain amount of snooping when she was younger,
and she still knew how to pick a lock.

Without
hesitating, Michael shrugged out of his jacket, balled it around his fist, and
broke the small window next to the door with a sharp jab against the glass.
When he reached through the window, he was able to unlock and open the door.

Allison
had to admit his method was more efficient than fiddling with the lock.

She
let out a long breath when they stepped out of the wind and rain. It was dark
in the back hallway so she flipped a light switch.

“No
power,” Michael muttered, when the lights failed to come on. He was dripping
onto the tile floor, his expensive shirt and dark trousers pasted to his lean
body. The wound on his head was still bleeding, and the sight of smeared blood
trailing down to his neck was very disturbing.

With
a sinking in her heart, Allison stepped over and picked up a landline phone.
“Phones are dead too. We’re out in the middle of nowhere here, so who knows
when we’ll get them back. We’ll have to make do, I guess, until the storm
passes.”

Michael
wiped some of the moisture off his face. He was still ridiculously handsome,
and he projected an even stronger sense of power and masculinity than he had
when he was younger. “It’s better than being out on the road. Hopefully, this
old place will hold up.”

“It’s
pretty sturdy.” She sounded more confident than she felt as the windows
clattered with a particularly fierce gust of wind. “The first thing we should
do is check out your injury.”

“I’m
fine,” Michael said, frowning at her with an arrogance that immediately annoyed
her. “And I’d prefer not to be babied.”

“Babied?
Are you serious? You crashed your car and concussed yourself! I’m not planning
to serve you tea and chicken soup, but we should at least wipe up the blood.”

Michael
touched his injured head, as if he hadn’t realized it was bleeding. Then he
arched his brows. “If I’m not mistaken, you’re the one who was driving in the
middle of the road, so I have you to thank for my crashed car and potential concussion.”

Allison
snarled at him. Never had she met such a stubborn, spoiled man. He definitely
hadn’t improved with age. “I’m the one who thought of this place and hauled
your arrogant ass here. While we’re spewing out indictments, let’s not forget
that.” She shook her head impatiently. “Why the hell are we arguing? I’m going
to look for some medical supplies. If you don’t fall over on your way there,
maybe you can find the kitchen and see if there’s any food.”

She’d
started down the hall when Michael’s voice stopped her. “While you’re looking
around, see if you can find some dry clothes.”

She
aimed a questioning look over her shoulder, not so much at his words but at his
slightly thick tone.

The
erotic texture of his voice reminded her vividly of the night she’d spent with
him. He’d murmured throaty endearments about how beautiful, how sweet, how
incredible she was. He’d made her experience depths of pleasure she hadn’t
known were possible.

Her
body was suddenly washed with a hot wave of visceral desire. Even in wet
clothes and with a smug frown on his face, Michael’s strong, lean body and
innate power drew her irresistibly. His sopping shirt clung to his broad
shoulders and tight abdomen, and the wet fabric revealed the rippling of
muscles beneath it.

She
wanted him. So deeply she was astounded and terrified.

And
it only got worse when his blue-gray eyes smoldered with an answering heat.
“You need to find something dry to wear.”

Allison
glanced down at herself and realized that her own clothes revealed as much of
her body as his did. She sucked in a sharp breath at the sight of her tight
nipples through her shirt. More heat coursed through her as realized what he’d
seen and how he’d reacted to it.