Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

G iovanni slid to a stop at the top of the ramp leading onto the snow-covered highway. Visibility was shit, and he seemed to be the only idiot on the road at this hour.

His windshield wipers pumped, doing little to clear the view. There must have been close to eight inches of snow on the ground and the stuff kept falling.

Squinting through the heavy flakes, trying to make out the road, he glimpsed at what might be the guardrail. The pavement was a blur, so there were no painted lines or medians visible to guide him.

Edging forward, his car coasted in a slow glide that did little to control the car. Thank God he was the only one out. He'd never be able to drive in this while navigating around other cars.

A strange divot formed in the road and he frowned. Tracks. But they were a mess like someone was doing donuts. On a highway?

Everything was muffled from the heat pumping through the vents and the heavy, whipping pattern of the wipers. He hunched over the wheel, driving like a blind granny, wondering who had ridden those tracks into the snow, when his headlight caught something reflective in the tree line.

"Oh, shit." He carefully pulled over, unsure if he was still in the road or on the shoulder. "Please tell me that car's empty."

The little red coupe was nose down in the ditch with heavy pine branches and snow covering the windshield. It was too dark to see any damage to the body of the car, but it wasn't parked in a natural position. Shutting off his engine, he pocketed his keys in case he needed them to break a window. He stuffed his cell in his pocket and left his headlights angled toward the coupe as he got out.

"Fuck." His Italian-soled shoes sank into the snow. "Two hundred dollars down the drain for some good Samaritan bullshit. Someone better be in there."

He hiked through the slush and ice, the ankles of his jeans growing wet and heavy with each frigid step. Flakes caught in his lashes and hair. Just two minutes outside of his car, and his hands were chapped and frozen.

"Hello?" he yelled, staring down at the cockeyed car. It had definitely slid off the road. "Is anyone in there?"

The wind whistled and he hunched deeper into his jacket. He wanted to go back, but the way the branches covered the driver's door made him think it hadn't been opened since the crash. The other side was smacked up against the trunk of a pine tree.

He kept going, choosing his steps carefully, but unsure what terrain existed underneath the smooth coating of snow. His shoes crunched through the icy surface, his feet sinking ankle-deep. The damp cashmere of his dress socks clung to his freezing ankles.

"Damnit!" Losing his footing, he fell to his back and slid down the slope, banging his knee into the hard metal of the door. Ice chips rushed up the back of his shirt, cold against his skin, and he groaned then kicked the side of the car.

Rolling to his knees, he fumbled to stand. The snow had made a drift and gravity was working against him. He had to climb onto the car to pull the branches away. They were heavier than expected.

The windows were iced over and when he pulled the handle, the door stuck. He doubted anyone was in there. His shoes were ruined and his clothes were soaked. He'd probably catch pneumonia from this, and for what?

What happened to Giovanni?

Oh, he wrestled a pine tree in a blizzard and lost.

Heh-heh, he always was an idiot.

He wrestled with the door as branches swatted him in the face and more snow fell down his collar. The damn thing wouldn't budge.

"Open, you piece of shit!" He yanked the door hard and it finally gave way. Squinting into the shadows, he caught sight of a feminine leg and gasped.

Holy shit, there is someone in here.

"Hey?" He braced the door on his shoulder so it wouldn't shut. The car was freezing. "Hey, are you okay?"

Her body was bent at the waist and draped over the passenger seat. He could make out the round shape of her ass and a damn fine set of legs but her upper body was bundled in a white parka and blonde hair tumbled over her face, hiding any identifying characteristics from view.

He tentatively reached for her hip and gave it a shake. "Hey?"

When she didn't respond, he pulled out his phone and dialed 9-11, but his cell wasn't getting a signal. "Fucking mountain." He stuffed the useless paperweight back in his pocket and jostled her again.

Her body felt frozen. "Lady, I'm here to help you. I have a car on the road. Looks like you spun into a ditch. You have to get somewhere warm?—"

A hard cough rattled from her chest, shaking her shoulders. He briefly shut his eyes, thanking God she wasn't dead.

"Are you hurt?"

A pained groan was her only answer.

"Okay." He glanced around the car, but everything was thrown to the passenger side. "I have a car. We can wait there for an ambulance. I'm not getting any cell service this close to the trees. Do you think you can sit up so I can lift you out?"

Her hips twisted and a muffled moan met his ears. Tight red material clung to her curves, and he raised a brow when she pivoted her hips, her tapered thighs parted and that wrapper of a skirt hardly covered her panties. Jesus, who was this lady? And what was wrong with him that he looked?

He forced his attention back to her face, still buried by a tumble of blonde hair. She cupped a hand to the side of her head and groaned as she tried to sit up.

"Careful." He reached for her, but she didn't seem to acknowledge him. "The car's cockeyed. You're in a ditch."

She would have to get towed out once the roads were cleared and who knew when that would be.

When she shifted, pushing against the door and fighting gravity, a bag spilled onto the floor, random female items rolling under the seat. A bottle of pills rattled out and she clumsily raked the items back into the bag. But the task seemed too grueling and she gave up, flopping her chest back down to the seat and falling silent.

"Don't go to sleep." He wasn't sure of her injuries but knew that anyone with a concussion shouldn't sleep. "Come on. Try to turn around and take my hand. I'll pull you out." His feet were numb and he just wanted to get back to his car, back to the heat. "Use the door to push yourself up."

Her shoulders lifted under the puffy coat and he heard her taking several deep breaths as if gathering her strength. She reached a manicured hand over her head and fumbled for the handle. She didn't wear a ring.

When she got hold of the handle she let out a muffled groan and pushed herself upward, rolling her weight to her back and whacking her head against the window when gravity took over.

"Easy."

She grumbled something and covered her face with her hands. Her legs sprawled toward him and he should have been a gentleman about it, but his gaze traveled from her red wrapped hips, down her lush, ivory thighs, to her tapered calf muscles, and his jaw dropped when he spotted the pointed stilettos on her feet.

"Who are you?" he whispered, his stare slowly traveling back to her face.

Another moan, as she braced her back along the door and she pushed her hair away. It was dark, and with the snow and branches covering most of the car, only a slice of moonlight slipped in.

A sharp tongue darted out over full lips, then firmed as if the soft motion caused her pain. Their eyes met, and he shuddered, much like he would if he'd accidentally checked out his mom or drank poison.

"You've got to be kidding me," she groaned, dipping her head back, exposing the long column of her throat.

This couldn't be happening. " Erin?"

"Mmmm," she moaned and winced, breathing heavily.

Only his luck could have landed him here, with Satan's succubus. How the hell was this beautiful woman Erin Montgomery? He saw no forked tongue or tail. No horns or demon eyes.

Gross. Thirty seconds ago he'd been checking her out!

His eyes rolled toward the snowy sky, his gut curdling with acidic self-loathing. He wanted the blonde bombshell snow bunny of his fantasies back, not the bitch of Eastwick.

"I think I'm gonna be sick," she slurred.

"Me too."

He wanted to leave her there for all those times she called him annoying and told Finn to ditch him. But then she let out a soft whimper and one of those jagged breaths that precede a cry, and he took pity on her.

"Give me your hand." She didn't deserve his sympathy, but he wasn't a monster.

She hesitated—the bitch—and he was back to hating her.

"Or wait here for someone else," he snapped. "It's no sweat off my balls."

"You're disgusting." She reluctantly reached for his hand and he hauled her toward the door with little concern for her injuries. It took some maneuvering to pull her ass out of the car, but she weighed as much as a bird, so it wasn't too bad.

"My car's up there."

"Wait. My purse."

His jaw flexed and he growled. "You couldn't have grabbed it before I pulled you out."

She pressed a hand to her head and he noticed a dark mark on her cheek and scratches on her temple.

"I'll get it." He went back into the car and dove for the bag. "Here." He flung it at her and she caught it against her chest. "Be careful on the hill. The snow's deep."

He crawled up the slope, clawing at the snow with numb fingers and working his way up to the road. It was only a few feet, but the ditch was steep. When he got to the top his breath formed a cloud of vapor. He brushed off his clothes and looked for Erin, spotting her still by her car.

"What are you waiting for?"

"My feet…" She glanced down at her exposed legs. They looked blue in the moonlight.

"Why would you wear those shoes on a night when we're expecting a blizzard?"

"Oh, like your shoes are any more sensible."

"At least I've got socks!"

"Just help me up there."

Jaw locked, he tried to anchor his footing and stretched out an arm. She reached upward and their fingertips brushed.

"You're gonna have to do better," he barked. "Step on that spot there."

She hesitantly took a step where he instructed and he grabbed her hand in a tight grip. Her foot plunged into the snow and she gasped just as he jerked her up the slope. Losing his footing, he tumbled forward, landing on his knees in the drift and she yelled, "My shoe!"

"Fuck your shoe," he growled, hoisting himself out of the snow.

She stood there, pouting like a one-legged flamingo and he cursed.

Hiking back down the hill, he dug out her high heel and brought it to her. "Your shoe, Cinderella," he sneered.

"Thanks." Popping the shoe on her foot, she staggered to find her balance, wincing when she clumsily sank her foot in a puddle of slush.

"Come on."

She unwillingly took his arm as he led her to his car. The headlights were blinding and her heels got caught in the ice several times.

She slipped and he caught her elbow, saving her from hitting the ground. "Careful," he snapped, disliking the way her body clung to his.

He'd never been happier to get into his car. They both rubbed their hands, chafing the frozen skin and desperately trying to chase away the bite of cold.

"Are you going to start it?" she asked with too much venom.

"I can't feel my damn hands. Give me a second."

"Where are the keys? I'll do it."

"For the love of God." He fished into his pockets and found what felt like jagged metal. His motor skills were off, and he dropped the keys twice before sliding them into the ignition.

The glow of Erin's cellphone filled the car. "I'm not getting a signal."

"I think we're in a dead zone."

"This whole damn mountain's a dead zone."

He turned the key and the engine clicked.

"What was that?" Her eyes flashed with accusation as the moonlight illuminated her face. "Don't tell me that's your battery."

He turned the key again and got the same click-click-click . No rumble of the engine. No purr of heat pumping through the vents. The headlights dimmed when he tried it a third time.

"Fuck!" he shouted.

"You shouldn't have left the headlights on!"

"I was saving you!"

"Nice job. I'm so rescued right now."

"God, you're such an ungrateful bitch!"

"I can't believe this." She cradled her head and glared out the window.

He cupped his hands and blew into them, deeply concerned that he might have frost bite. "The plows will be out soon. Someone will find us."

She shoved her arms into her coat and stretched her dress over her knees, drawing them up to her chest. How did women do that? She literally just transformed into a ball.

He kicked off his ruined shoes and peeled back his damp socks, draping them over the rearview mirror. There was no relief against the sting of the cold.

"Like they're gonna dry there. It's twenty-six degrees outside."

"Do you always have to be so damn negative? Just…shut up. The next few hours will be a lot easier if you don't talk." His toes were frozen to the bone.

He took off his coat and wrapped it around his feet. Shutting his eyes, he tried to get some rest, if only to distract himself from the freezing pain. Maybe if he slept for twenty minutes he'd wake up to feeling in his toes. Or maybe he'd wake up to find them black. Why had he not been a boy scout? He didn't know shit about surviving in the wilderness.

For nearly an hour, they sat in silence, their breath and the heat of their frustration the only thing keeping them warm. The snow was mounting, and he was sure, by now, the local news stations had determined this a state of emergency.

Erin's teeth chattered and her skin looked blue. Her chin rested on her knees and she stared forward at the windshield, which was now covered in snow.

She had quite the bruise on her cheek. Bored and beyond manners, he stared at her. She could be pretty—until she opened her mouth.

He frowned when he noted the smeared makeup around her eyes. Black smudges traveled down her cheeks, the kind women got when they cried. But she hadn't cried since he found her. Had she been crying when she crashed?

He thought back to the bar and the things he said to her. Had he made her cry?

No way. Erin Montgomery didn't have a soft side. She was made of nails and spit and tar and whatever else they used to glue demons together.

Yet, she looked so small and innocent at the moment. Childlike and sort of scared. It was messing with his head. He didn't like feeling anything but hate for her.

His feet were warmer now, so he reached for his coat. "Here. Put this over your legs."

Startled by his voice, she looked at him as if she'd forgotten he was there. She took the coat. "Th-th-thanks."

On second thought, maybe talking would keep them warmer than sleep. "What were you thinking about?" He watched as she swathed her legs in his coat.

"That if I died here, no one would care."

"Jesus, Erin. Could you be more fucking dark?"

"You asked."

He didn't even know how to respond to such a bleak comment. "We're not gonna die here."

She looked up at him with big eyes and a cloud of vapor formed between them. "I can't f-f-feel my fingers." She tucked her chin into the collar of her coat, exhaling her breath down her body. She continued to squirm as if trying to burrow into herself.

"I once read an article on hypothermia. It said that two naked bodies produce more heat than one clothed."

She glared at him. "I'm not getting naked with you."

He rolled his eyes. "Like I'm really after a glimpse of your tits. I was just sharing useful knowledge."

Her lips firmed but split apart when her teeth continued to chatter. Several minutes passed and her quivering got worse.

"I wouldn't look." The truth was, he was freezing, too. If snuggling up with the devil could somehow produce a little heat in this car, he'd take it. "Come on, Erin, it's fucking freezing."

"No."

They sat in shivering silence.

Finally, she cursed. "We can sit closer. But that's it."

Accepting any chance at stealing her body heat, he accepted the offer. For several minutes they fumbled around, trying to fit her on his lap, but it wasn't working out the way he envisioned. The steering wheel was in the way and they needed more room.

"This isn't working. We need to try the backseat."

She scooted over the center console and he shoved her through the opening between the front seats, impatient to get to the part where they found warmth.

"Ouch! Asshole."

"Sorry." He could have been a little more gentle. Climbing into the back, he stretched over the chilled leather, angling his feet toward the floor. "Lay on top of me."

She hesitated when he held out his arms, but reluctantly lowered her body over his.

Her hair smelled like strawberries and snow. He blew the strands away from his face, resenting the soft fragrance. She nuzzled closer and he stiffened.

"Watch it."

"I'm trying to get comfortable." She squirmed some more, and his body took notice.

"Damn it, Erin, stay still."

She ignored him and straddled his hips, hiking her knees against his side and using his jacket as a blanket. Finally, she lowered her head to his chest and stilled.

The heat of her thighs pressed against an exposed stretch of flesh where his shirt had rumpled. The skin grew hotter by the second.

"Do you feel that?"

"Your obnoxious hard-on?"

"No." And he wasn't even fully hard. "How hot our skin is getting where it's touching." She was silent, so he added, "And it has nothing to do with you. My dick's not selective."

"Well, my vagina is, so don't get any ideas."

"Oh, please."

"Begging won't help you."

He chuckled. Was that a joke? He never realized she had a sense of humor.

They lay like that for several minutes. It was warmer than when they were sitting apart, but they were still shivering.

Little by little, he worked his hands down his side and casually shifted his shirt higher, exposing his ribs. Erin was completely still aside from her quivering.

His finger grazed her thigh, meeting a blazing stretch of flesh. He needed to get her skin on him. He was losing his mind from the cold.

Ever so subtly, he pulled her dress higher. She stiffened but didn't object. When the skin of her flat belly finally pressed to his, it was like scalding lava. He shut his eyes and sighed.

Greedy for her warmth, his hands wrapped around her hips and pressed to her back. She flinched. "Your hands are cold."

"Give it a minute."

She settled into him, her hands burrowing up his shirt and toward his chest.

"Your skin's on fire." For whatever scientific reason, this was working. "I think we should use my blazer as a blanket and put our legs together."

She didn't respond, so he took her silence as a yes.

He leaned up and shouldered off his blazer. The cool leather against his cotton-clad back made him hiss, but his body was warming from the places it touched Erin's.

She shifted, sending a confusing message to his dick. It didn't help that Erin's pert little ass was angled inches from his palms and her thighs gripped his hips. He tossed the blazer over his legs.

"Now, stretch out over me."

Her body scooted lower and she used his coat and jacket to form a blanket over their legs. It was an improvement, but now his arms were freezing.

"Wait, try this." He reached up and unzipped her parka.

"What are you doing?"

"Believe me, this is purely for the sake of science."

Her hands braced at his side and he spread the coat over them as much as it would cover. It wasn't a large garment, but it was better than nothing.

Erin lowered to his chest and he lifted his T-shirt. "Pull down your dress."

"What? No!"

"Come on, Erin. This sucks."

She grumbled but did as he said. "Don't look."

"Believe me, I won't."

She lowered her stomach to his torso, slipping down the dress at the last second so they were chest to chest. He caught a flash of luscious curves encased in black lace and wondered if her nipples would be peach or tan. Then he remembered it was Erin and mentally gagged.

But her breasts were soft and warm against his chest and her thighs gripped him in a way that made it difficult not to harden. This was bullshit. He should not be responding in such a way to a woman he hated.

Was it some sort of rule that beautiful women had to be mean? That had to be why he never noticed she was hot.

Their body warmth spread, creating pockets of heat that chased away the cold. His numb nose ran like a faucet and every few seconds either he or Erin sniffled. But, for the most part, they were silent and warm.

The pain of frozen fingers and toes eased to a dull numb that eventually faded, and his eyes grew heavy. Erin covered him like a blanket, her heart beating steadily against his as he held her in his arms against his chest.

So far, this trip home was proving more of a nightmare than he'd expected. He couldn't wait for the roads to clear so he could go back to New York.