Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

N oel

The morning dawned gray and icy, the frigid temperature creeping in underneath the doors even with weather stripping. I'd never planned on having a guest, including one who'd created unbelievable passion. It was as if karma was trying to tell me something. I just wish I knew what that was.

Kage was obviously uncomfortable being in my house, let alone my bedroom. Now he was outside splitting wood in the icy conditions, the puffy jacket he'd worn unable to hide his magnificent brawn. Maybe he thought for some insane reason this meant we were in a relationship.

Not a chance.

I couldn't deny I was enjoying his company, but we were nothing but two people who'd found something amazing for a few hours. Yet I couldn't take my eyes off him. I was standing at the back door, a coffee mug in my hand, watching with fascination at the way he handled my sweet Max. The man was amazing with animals. So much so I planned on asking him if he had a pet back home. I hoped not. The poor pup would be suffering by now without his daddy dog.

I'd fallen in love with Max already, his tragic story worse than mine. But the pup seemed to have a heart of gold. A smile and he already seemed to know me and my schedule.

And my needs.

He took a hard swing, splitting a huge chunk of wood into three pieces. I was more than impressed but I doubted that's what he was aiming for. I'd coaxed him into sleeping next to me on the bed but we'd remained miles apart, as if the heat we'd shared had never occurred. Thank God I had a king-sized bed or not only would his long legs have extended past the end but I doubt he would have been comfortable to any degree.

As it was, I'd awakened twice to find him standing by my bedroom window, staring out into the darkness. He'd reminded me of a caged animal, unused to being captured inside. I honestly had no idea what to think, other than he was a loner.

Sighing, I backed away, grateful the power had at least remained on. After returning to the kitchen, I poured another cup of coffee, guessing the man only took cream. As I prepared the mug, I was laughing at myself. I had no clue about the man whatsoever, other than he drove a big, bad truck and was good with animals.

Oh, and he could kiss like no other man I'd ever experienced. Every muscle was still aching from his roughness, but I couldn't remember the last time I'd awakened with a smile on my face. I grabbed my coat and boots, struggling into them before taking the hot mug outside.

Kage didn't see me at first, chopping a few additional pieces. A few beads of sweat trickled down one side of his face and I had the strange urge to lick them off. God. What had the man done to me? Well, I could say at least he'd awakened the sleeping princess. That was worth its weight in gold.

Max suddenly shifted from his hypnotized state staring at what Kage was doing, barking only once as he bounded toward me.

"Hiya, baby. It's too icy out here. You'll hurt your paws." They were scarred from the purposely set fire and the last thing I wanted to do was to cause him any additional pain.

"He's a strong boy," Kage said as he pummeled the maul into another chunk of wood. As both pieces flew off the sides, he finally tipped his head in my direction. "He's been through worse."

"How did you know?" As soon as I issued the question, I slapped my forehead. "The scars."

"Yeah, and he kind of told me."

"Oh, he did, huh? Are you like a dog whisperer?"

He chuckled and tossed the instrument, wiping his hands on his jeans. "I had a boy similar to him years ago. Jake and I were inseparable and I kinda got to know him."

"What happened to him?"

A moment of sadness tore through Kage. I could see it in his eyes. "He was shot."

I hadn't been prepared for that. "I'm so sorry. I hope being around Max doesn't bring up unpleasant memories."

He rubbed his forearm across his forehead, gathering sweat. "Not at all. Being around Max has been good for my soul." As he walked closer, the same heat as I'd experienced the night before rushed through my body, leaving me with tingling sensations.

The man was dangerously attractive and the way he allowed his gaze to fall to my boots took a few seconds of my breath away. "Careful, girl. Those boots aren't mean for ice." The moment he took another step forward, he slipped and almost fell.

I grasped his arm, sloshing some hot coffee on my non-gloved hand in trying to keep him from falling. "Shit. Ouch."

The moment I started to blow on my hand, he carefully pulled me closer and without hesitation, he eased my hand to his lips, first blowing then wrapping his wet lips around the affected area. The move was so unexpected that I was momentarily at a loss for words. Even my other hand holding the mug was shaking. He was so tender, his eyes expressing such concern that I couldn't think straight.

When he finally released my hand, he gently rubbed the rough pad of his index finger across the area. "It's not that bad." When I still had trouble saying anything, he lifted his gaze. "You look surprised."

"I… am." The moment was entirely too awkward. "I guess your boots aren't made for ice either."

Great. My tongue was also tied. What in the world was wrong with me?

"Apparently not. Is that cup of java for me?"

I glanced down at Max. The pup had his head cocked as he stared at us. At least his tail was whooshing back and forth. "Yes. I didn't know what you liked so I guessed just cream."

He took a sip, his eyes almost rolling into the back of his head. "Real cream. It's fantastic and you were right. I just haven't had fresh cream in so long I can't remember when."

If the guy was rich, why couldn't he purchase a carton of half and half? He was still very mysterious, but we all had our quirks, dark secrets even. I knew that far too well. "Um, well, good. It's cold out here. And I'm certain you're hungry. I can make some breakfast."

"I'll bring some wood in and rekindle the fire."

"That would be nice."

There was no reason for my words to suddenly be so stilted, but it seemed I was still lost in his suddenly gentle demeanor. He took several additional sips of his coffee before handing me back the mug, nodding before grabbing an armful of wood. He trailed behind me as I headed inside, his behemoth arms easily cradling at least eight huge pieces of wood.

I stood on the other side of the couch with his mug still in my hands, watching him tossing a few pieces onto the red embers before stoking it until flames erupted all over again. In our frenzied time of need, I hadn't taken enough time to appreciate his ruggedness. Everything about him was large, hard muscles everywhere. Even his hands appeared twice the size of mine.

Finally, I forced myself to look away, chastising my silly behavior all over again. Seconds later, I managed to turn around, returning to the kitchen where I had to fight off hyperventilating. I'd never done anything so impetuous in my life. Even knowing I was now safe from the monster, I couldn't suddenly act as if there were no dangers out there.

Where there was one nutcase deranged enough to recreate bloody and violent scenes from an author's work, there would be another. Plus, the case had gotten a lot of press, just like I bet was happening right now. My work had been compared to the murders by more than one idiot reporter who'd ignored my privacy.

As usual, I was overthinking the past, which according to my shrink was the reason I couldn't sleep at night. Yet with a stranger in the house, I'd fallen into a deep sleep. Maybe I thought Kage could keep me protected from all of the things that went bump in the night.

"You hungry, boy?" I asked absently as I poured some food into Max's bowl before rinsing out and replacing his water. He appeared starving to death, although I knew that not to be true. He'd eaten like a horse the night before and I'd seen Kage slipping him a couple of bites of steak. I was told I shouldn't give Max table scraps at all, using treats only as a method of continual training, but how could anyone look into Max's big brown eyes and not give in?

My wicked mind remained on Kage, luscious thoughts of our round of passion, but it couldn't happen again. It was obvious to me that neither of us were in the position of wanting anything but a good old-fashioned one-night stand. I was a big girl. I could handle it plus if I knew my agent, she'd already booked me on a tour when the new book came out. I had things to concentrate on.

I flicked on the television to the morning news before I grabbed out eggs and cheese, butter and sausage. And biscuits. You couldn't have breakfast without biscuits. Maybe he was a bacon man. Heck, I'd make both. And hash browns. I hadn't fixed myself any hash browns for a long time. Why not a feast?

Hearing that roads were closed and that there were accidents everywhere was surprising. Very little weather bothered anyone living in Colorado. But ice was a great equalizer. Maybe this was a Bloody Mary kind of morning. As the news droned on, I started preparing breakfast, trying my best to keep my mind off the man. It was tough. Connecting with anyone hadn't been my strong suit anyway and after the… incident, I'd shut down those feeling altogether, wondering if I'd ever be able to enjoy spending time alone with a man.

I guess fate had stepped in to keep me from being one of those cranky old cat ladies. I rolled my eyes as I opened the cabinets, searching for my bottle of vodka. Thank God I'd thought to get Bloody Mary mix.

I busied myself making breakfast, trying to ignore the small details like that his scent lingered on my skin or that my lips were slightly swollen. While it didn't take that long, when I'd placed everything on the kitchen table, I realized I hadn't heard a peep out of the man since we'd returned inside.

He wasn't in the living room and neither was Max, although the fire was roaring, so much so I could feel the warmth from where I was standing. There was no reason for me to be nervous around him. Certainly, if he'd meant me any harm, he would have completed his mission when I was asleep.

The fool that I was.

Yet my stomach remained in knots as soon as I noticed the light was on in my office. I never closed the door. There was no need since I rarely had company other than my two friends. The stomach churning continued as I walked closer, taking my time in doing so.

Kage was inside, somewhere along the way pulling off his coat, something else I hadn't paid any attention to. I stood in the doorway, initially prepared to accost him for entering my private space but he seemed genuinely interested in the book he was holding in his hands. Meanwhile, my adorable but traitorous dog was curled near the man's feet.

I watched for a full minute as he turned page after page, impressed at his reading skills. I didn't need to say anything. He lifted his head, his eyes piercing mine. Sadly, they were expressionless. Given the rather graphic nature of my books, I had more male readers than female, although I'd had both at a few of my signings say they admired my work, but they didn't want to have nightmares.

Maybe I should take my own advice.

"I paid attention to the news. It seems the ice is worse than we thought. So, you're stuck with me for a little while. I hope you can survive." I laughed nervously but he continued to act solemn, his face unyielding to any emotion. He was just searching.

"This is you?" he asked by way of answer.

"Yeah. I wasn't going to use a pseudonym but there are some crazies out there." Some more than others.

"You're an excellent writer," he said far too quietly. Why did he seem so surprised?

"Then why are you frowning?"

"I'm not. Am I?"

I walked closer, examining the one he'd grabbed from the bookshelf. "She has to die," I murmured the title. At least it said what to expect inside the book, although the name was completely different than what I'd wanted. "You were. Perhaps because I don't write frothy romance novels, which had been called utter trash over the years. I'm vehemently opposed to trashing any author for what they write by the way. I just prefer blood and gore to romantic walks on the beach. Sue me."

He seemed taken aback by my boldness. "As I said, you're a very good writer and I'm certain you could do so in any genre, but this seems to be what you prefer writing. You have a good handle on police procedurals and an uncanny ability to slide into the mind of your protagonist, but be careful you don't lose yourself in the darkness."

"I'm not. It's all about my imagination, you know?" I was even pointing at my head. How clever, sugar britches.

"Understood but most authors share some part of themselves or their lives inside every book they write. I would hate to think anything like this happened to you."

"It's all about having a good imagination and watching a lot of crime reels." I laughed, but a single bead of perspiration had managed to trickle down one side of my face.

"Would it be possible if I borrowed this one?"

There was absolutely no reason for a chill to be slithering down my spine. He hadn't said anything wrong. I could tell his words were heartfelt, but he didn't know the book I'd just written was my attempt at scouring my mind of the horrible memories. Now I was uncertain what I'd written was the right thing to do.

His words were so different from the night before, as if he'd decided to shut down any feelings for me. Maybe that was for the best. "Absolutely. It's the least I can do for you bringing me back safely and keeping the fire going, not to mention making such amazing steaks. Just please don't critique me too harshly. That was my first bestseller, which shocked the hell out of me in truth. I have an excellent agent and publisher."

Another awkward moment. "The most astute professionals can only boost your natural talent. Nothing more. Is your hand okay?"

He'd been stoic the night before, but he was so serious this morning I was thrown by every word coming from his mouth.

"It's fine. Perfectly fine. Thank you for caring." I flexed it for him to show there was no permanent damage.

Tick. Tock.

Maybe we were both trying too hard.

I had cotton in my mouth, which I always had when trying too hard.

"Anyway, I made some breakfast. I didn't know what you liked so I prepared a bit of everything." I laughed more nervously than I had around him before. When I brushed my hand through my hair, he narrowed his eyes. What was he hoping to find in me? "I never know how much to make so there's a lot of food. I just don't get many visitors."

Now I was telling him I was a loner? Great. It was a classic no-no for the heroines in my books, none of whom were classically stupid like those in so many horror movies. I should spend more time reading my own work. Maybe I could grab some pointers on how not to attract serial killers.

Jesus.

I'd truly fallen down some insane rabbit hole.

"That sounds wonderful. I can't remember the last time I had a home-cooked breakfast. The slop I'm used to shouldn't be fed to a dog. No offense, buddy."

Woof!

He reached down, scratching behind Max's ears.

"You're good with him."

"They know when you're good people, or in my case at least an okay dude." He smiled and another little thrill trickled through me.

"I'll meet you in the kitchen." I was even pointing behind me down the hallway. I turned around, prepared to find a way to collect myself when I had a better idea. Maybe not better but it was best to draw the line in the sand now, so he didn't have any undue expectations. When I spun around quickly to face him once again, I almost lost my balance. "Just so you know, Kage. You don't mind me calling you Kage, do you? Anyway," I laughed nervously yet again. "What we shared last night was amazing. Totally off the charts amazing. You are…"

Goddamn it, I sounded like an eighteen-year-old.

"You are amazing at everything you do, but I'm a busy lady. I can't have any interference in my life. I mean I have a new book I literally just finished, which means I'll need to start concentrating on edits. Then the release and all the artwork, a book tour. At least hopefully. See? I don't have time to have anyone else in my life right now. Max is the exception of course."

I was forced to take a deep breath. When he didn't say anything, I found the courage to look him directly in the eyes. He was still searching mine, remaining as quiet as a damn church mouse. "So, that's all. We can be friends and enjoy our time together. Like I said, I'll meet you in the kitchen."

Turning abruptly, I took another deep breath before heading to the kitchen where I found myself coming closer to hyperventilating. What the fuck was I doing? Why had I just told him that? I'd had the best sex of my life and I just blew him off. Both my reaction to him and the fact he was reading my book were ridiculous, but I didn't like the new tension or the fact I'd enjoyed his company as much as I had.

And was still doing.

Besides, there was no other choice but to tell him we couldn't do it again. Right? Oh, God. How was I going to be able to remain in close proximity to him? He was so sexy and desirable and…

And get a grip. Stop acting like a teenager. Not a good look on you.

My inner voice was spot on.

He was my houseguest for an undetermined period of time and that was it. I could certainly manage to keep my resolve.

I'd prepared a couple of drinks before he walked into the kitchen. As I turned around with them in my hands, the frilly stalks of celery sticking up like beacons of sin, I was once again lightheaded. I was also reminded he was all male.

Kage wore a different expression as he stood just inside the doorway, his massive form filling it completely. I was still in awe how huge he was, his shoulders almost as broad as the opening. In his rugged jeans that had seen better days and his unbuttoned shirt highlighting a mere peek of his gorgeous chest, I was once again pulled into the vacuum of insanely twisted desire.

I was acutely aware I'd involuntarily dragged the tip of my tongue across my bottom lip.

And as soon as his nostrils flared, his chest puffing up, I pretty well guessed he'd figured out what was on my mind.

I was frozen to the spot as he inched closer, as a stalker would do in any of my books. "Here. I made Bloody Marys." I held one glass out in front of me, hating the fact my hand was shaking so badly. It was silly to be so nervous around him.

Or maybe not.

He allowed the same heated gaze from before to slowly glide to the drink I'd offered, and I'd be damned if it wasn't as if a sneer had crossed his face. Now he was swaggering closer, taking his sweet time doing so. I hadn't thought the man had a dramatic bone in his body, but it was obvious I was wrong.

The moment he closed the distance between us, the glass slamming against his chest, I was shocked to hear a little whimper erupting from my mouth. He took the drinks from my hand, placing them on the table then returning. He slowly pushed me against the edge of the counter.

"Um. What are you doing? Did you hear what I said a few moments ago? Do you want me to repeat it for you? I can." I was even more nervous, pressing my palms against his chest, immediately curling my fingers so I could feel as much of his muscular structure as possible.

He planted one hand on the counter beside me, pressing two fingers of his other hand across my lips. "Lady, you're one hell of a talented and extremely beautiful woman, but you talk too much. To answer your question, I don't accept your decision or your rationale."

"Meaning what?"

"Meaning," he said in a huskier voice than before, "I'm not ready to let you go."