Stormbound With A Tycoon

Dylan stripped off his wet clothes. He was not sure exactly what to think about the unexpected turn of events that had filled the morning. He didn’t have any experience with women who were anything more than a stunning decoration on his arm and a very enthusiastic partner in his bed.

But that was no longer the case for him. It had been quite a while since he was last intimately involved with any type of woman. It certainly had not been for lack of opportunity. The thrill of the chase no longer excited him, especially when the quarry offered no challenge. Jessica certainly did not fit into that mold. He was not sure exactly what mold she did fit into, but he strongly suspected it was not any type familiar to him.

He took a pair of warm socks, a sweater and jeans from the dresser where he’d placed his clothes the night before when he unpacked. As he dressed, his thoughts continued to center around Jessica. He found her beautiful, intelligent, intriguing…and very disconcerting.

He recalled her comment about it being lucky for him that she was there to fix things at the cabin. He did not like her implication that he was incapable of having taken care of those simple tasks. Was that the image he projected? The opinion people held of him? Someone who basically drifted along without purpose or plan? Someone who wasn’t capable of handling the simple little tasks of day-to-day life? He clenched his jaw into a tight line. He did not like it, but knew it was what they believed.

It was a realization he had come to three months ago when a business deal had gone bad, throwing him into a downward spiral of depression. It wasn’t the business deal itself and certainly not the loss of profits that had so strongly affected him. It was much more than that. It was the reason he had asked Justin for the use of the cabin. He had choices to consider and decisions to make. He had to do something about straightening out his life.

He glanced toward the stairs leading down to the living room. And just how was he going to be able to accomplish anything with the unexpected distraction of the very desirable Jessica McGuire?

Coffee…he needed some hot coffee to take away the damp chill. He started toward the stairs, then turned back. There was no reason to intrude on her privacy by continuing to use her bedroom. Nothing would be gained by purposely antagonizing her. He quickly moved his belongings to the other bedroom.

As soon as he finished, he hurried downstairs. He had brought a few groceries with him, but not enough to accommodate two people for more than a couple of days. When the rain let up, one of them would have to go to the little market on the main road. The reality of his thoughts stopped him cold in his tracks. Somewhere along the line he had apparently decided that the two of them would share the cabin, or, more specifically, that he did not intend to leave.

Even while moving his clothes to the other bedroom the thought had not crystallized in that manner. He squelched the mischievous grin that tried to take hold. Just how was the in charge Jessica going to handle that idea? His amusement was short-lived. As soon as he reached the living room he saw the unhappy look on her face.

“If you’re through with my bedroom, I’d like to change into some dry clothes.”

“Certainly.” He stepped aside, still not sure where her testy attitude had come from or why. He decided to let her discover for herself that he had moved his things out of her bedroom.

She started up the stairs, paused, then turned back toward him just long enough to level a disagreeable look in his direction. It appeared as if she were about to say something, then changed her mind and continued up the stairs.

He was not sure exactly what the look conveyed, but it made him uncomfortable. It was more than her merely being unhappy with his presence. There was something else in her look, and he couldn’t quite place it. They had met on a couple of occasions many years ago, but that did not change the fact that as adults they were virtually strangers to each other. He knew it was an awkward situation and he wasn’t at all sure exactly how to resolve it so that they each had what they wanted…or in his case, what he needed.

And what he desperately needed was this escape to solitude. He did not want to deal with the ongoing bustling activity of a resort, the impersonal nature of a hotel or the closed-in feeling of being confined to a room as the only way to avoid crowds and activity. Justin’s cabin had been the perfect solution to his needs—isolation without feeling closed in.

The A-frame cabin had a large, open expanse consisting of a living room and dining area. The main level also contained a kitchen and a bathroom. Upstairs was a loft overlooking part of the living room, two bedrooms and a deck that stretched all the way across the front of the cabin above the porch. The cabin was big enough that it wasn’t confining and was surrounded by forest where he could hike without running into other people.

His entire life seemed to be in turmoil, and he was not sure what to do about it. He needed to think things out, to make some decisions…and to do it quickly before things became worse. His thoughts turned to Stanley and Rose Clarkson. He shoved away the horrible guilt that welled inside him whenever he thought of them.

Coffee…he needed some coffee. He headed for the kitchen. The electric coffeemaker on the counter was useless without any electricity. He shuffled through the kitchen cabinets in search of an old percolator to use on the stove. He finally got down on his hands and knees to look in the back of the lower cupboards.

Jessica came downstairs after changing clothes. She paused at the kitchen door and watched him as he rummaged around looking for something. His jeans fit his legs and across his rear end like a second skin. Even with his loose sweater, she could still discern his muscular back and broad shoulders. She closed her eyes, but it didn’t help. She couldn’t keep out the vision from early that morning—Dylan propped up on his elbow with the blanket down around his hips, the well-defined planes of his hard chest clearly visible in the early-morning light, the impish grin on his handsome face and the devilish twinkle in his eyes.

She shook away the unwelcome image and tried to settle the butterflies in her stomach. She forced a calm tone to her words that was far removed from what she felt. “What are you looking for?”

He jerked his head up at the sound of her voice and promptly banged it on the edge of the countertop. He scrunched up his face in pain as he rubbed his hand across the sore spot. Jessica suppressed an amused chuckle, although it wasn’t easy. This certainly was not the time or the place for laughter.

A moment later he withdrew his other hand from the cabinet, his fingers wrapped firmly around the handle of the old coffeepot. He held his prize out toward her, the triumphant grin covering his face. “I was looking for this.”

She flipped the light switch on and off again, somehow needing to personally confirm that the electricity was still out. “Well…I’m glad you found it. Coffee was the foremost thing on my mind, too.” The foremost thing if she discounted the very appealing image of Dylan Russell in her bed.

Two

Dylan stood up, set the coffeepot on the counter and flashed his most engaging smile. “I’m glad we found something we could agree on. Now, where do you keep the coffee?”

“I’ll do that. I know where everything is.” Jessica opened the door of the small pantry and removed the canister.

He took it from her, his tone showing a hint of irritation at her continued derogatory attitude about his capabilities. “I know how to make coffee.” He added water to the pot, measured the coffee and lit the burner on the stove. He took two coffee mugs from the cupboard and set them on the kitchen counter. Then he stared intently at the coffeepot as if willing it to start perking.

She turned toward the bathroom. “The water heater should have done its job and produced some hot water by now. I’m going to take a shower.”

“Sure…” He glanced in her direction. “I’ll grab a quick shower when you’ve finished.” He ran his hand over the stubble that covered his chin and cheeks. “I need to shave, too.” He saw the expression on her face again, the one that said she wanted to say something but had decided against it. He returned his attention to the coffeepot, hoping she would accept that as a sign to go about her business. A couple of minutes later he heard the shower.

Dylan leaned against the kitchen counter and expelled a sigh of relief that she had gone. Other than a couple of delightful minutes when he first woke up, the entire morning had been uncomfortable and very awkward. He had turned on the old charm, but she had refused to succumb.

Jessica McGuire was obviously a very capable woman. He had no experience with women like that—smart, capable, unpretentious and down to earth. He could not imagine even one of the women he had dated over the years actually running out into the rain and mud to check on a propane tank, let alone knowing what to do with it when she got there. He had racked up lots of exciting days and memorable nights, but during the past three months he had been forced to admit, if only to himself, that in spite of everything it had been a lonely existence. It was a bitter pill to swallow and one that had not gone down easily, but he knew it was the truth.

A hard stab of despair hit him when the memory of what happened to Stanley and Rose Clarkson popped into his mind again. Where it had always been a game for him in the past, it had finally dawned on him that he was now thirty-five years old and did not have anything important to show for his life. He had lots of memorable adventures, thousands of acquaintances around the world and a net worth of several million dollars, but he didn’t have a real home, a family or any really close friends other than Justin McGuire. He didn’t have the things that truly mattered.

Jessica was so different from any other woman he had ever known. She did not hang on his every word, laugh at his jokes whether they were funny or not, jump to fulfill his every whim. In short, she made no effort to impress him or play up to his ego, and he was not sure exactly how to handle it. In time gone past he wouldn’t have given it any more thought. He would have simply moved on to someone more receptive. But now…well, she had him confused. He was sure of one thing, though. He had to do something to counter her obviously negative opinion of him. But what?

As soon as the coffee was ready he poured himself a mug and took it into the living room. He opened the front door and stared out at the rain. The cold, damp air chilled him in spite of the coffee that heated the inside of his mouth and his throat. He had to find something he could do that would show Jessica he was not as out of place at the cabin or as inept as she seemed to think. Then his gaze fell on the firewood stacked neatly on the porch.

He glanced back at the cold fireplace. That was it. There was nothing like a warm, cozy fire to break the ice. He returned his coffee mug to the kitchen counter, then set to work carrying in firewood and building a fire. He definitely knew about using a cozy fire to create a romantic mood. Or, in this case, at least a friendly mood that was devoid of the prevailing tension.

He could not stop the little grin that tugged at the corners of his mouth. They could pull chairs up close to the fire and drink their morning coffee in a setting conducive to conversation. He would be able to change her abject opinion of him. Yes, indeed. He was very pleased with himself and his plan.

When he had finished with the fireplace he went to the kitchen to retrieve his coffee mug. He called to Jessica when he heard her emerge from the bathroom. “Coffee’s ready. Do you take anything in it or is black okay?” He stood poised with the pot in his hand waiting for her answer.

“Oh, my God! What have you done?” Jessica’s cry of alarm filled the air as much as the smell of smoke that quickly replaced the aroma of fresh coffee. It billowed out of the fireplace and into the living room. Her first thought said the cabin was on fire, but before she could act on that assumption she realized it was something else.

Dylan charged across the room toward the fireplace while shouting instructions. “Open the front door and a couple of windows to draw the smoke out.” He snatched the largest logs that had not yet caught fire and dropped them on the hearth. He used the poker and scattered the burning kindling around the fireplace to break up the fire’s fuel. Then he grabbed the bucket of sand he had spotted on the front porch and spread it over what was left of the fire to smother it.

Jessica stepped out to the front porch and took a deep breath of the crisp fresh air. She was not sure exactly what to think. It was obvious to her that he had stupidly left the damper in the chimney closed—too much high living and not enough practical experience with real life. She furrowed her brow in thought as another realization hit her. He had also taken immediate charge of the emergency and handled it with calm efficiency.

She set her jaw into a firm line and shook her head to clear her mind of the unwanted, compromising thought. After all, she had every right to be angry with him for enveloping her cabin in smoke and causing a potential disaster. She stubbornly refused to allow any contradictory thoughts to cloud the issue. She stepped back inside the living room, paused for a moment, then made her way over to the fireplace where Dylan had busied himself cleaning up the mess.

The morning had been filled with more than enough tension, and she was not sure exactly what to think or feel about the events that had already transpired. She knew she had been a little harsh, and possibly even unfair, but she didn’t seem to be able to stop herself. It was as if some sort of self-defense mechanism had automatically kicked in to protect her from the charms of this handsome and far-too-sexy scoundrel.

She tried to prevent any irritation from creeping into her voice. “Apparently you failed to open the damper before starting the fire.”

He straightened and leveled an appraising look at her. Was she challenging him? Accusing him? He did not know how to read her. “I’ve lit more than my share of fires in various fireplaces. I can assure you that I know enough to check. The damper was open.” With that, he turned toward the kitchen and the coffee he had left there.

He glanced back at the fireplace just in time to see her kneel down in front of the hearth and reach for the lever that controlled the damper. A little flicker of satisfaction settled inside him as the sheepish expression covered her face when she looked up and saw him watching her. She brushed her hands against her jeans, then slowly walked across the living room to the kitchen.

Dylan cocked his head and arched an eyebrow. “Well?” He saw the crimson tinge of embarrassment spread across her cheeks. She glanced at the floor before regaining eye contact with him.

“You…uh…you were right. The damper is open. I…uh…well, apparently there’s something else blocking the chimney.”

His sharply clipped words carried an edge of sarcasm. “That’s a safe guess.”

He continued to stare at her, waiting for her to make the next move. She had accused him of not knowing enough to check the damper and doubted his word when he told her it was open, even to the point of checking it for herself. She had no option other than admitting that he had not been responsible for the fiasco.

The entire morning he had been on the receiving end of her disapproval and skepticism. Now that he had finally gained the upper hand over the circumstances, he wasn’t sure he wanted to let her off the hook quite so easily. Things were finally starting to feel a little more comfortable and familiar. He suppressed a grin and settled into the game. It was an interesting situation packed with lots of possibilities. So why was he still feeling a little uneasy…and a lot unsure?

He tried to maintain a stern expression, but it wasn’t easy. Even though his feelings about her were very confused, they certainly were not hostile. He took a quick inventory of the physical attributes of this very enticing woman. A band tightened across his chest, and the heat of desire churned deep inside him. His feelings were definitely not hostile…quite the contrary.

She squirmed uncomfortably for a moment, then visibly pulled her composure together. She squared her shoulders and aimed an unflinching stare at him. “You’re not going to make this easy for me, are you?”

He purposely widened his eyes in feigned innocence. “Make what easy for you?” Justin had told him about his sister hating to admit being wrong, that she was very stubborn in that regard. For reasons he could not clearly define, he was enjoying her being on the spot for a change rather than him. It was an interesting moment of pointed banter with the delightful Jessica McGuire.

She took in a calming breath, then loudly expelled it. An edge of irritation clung to her words. “All right!” She took another calming breath. “You were right and I was wrong. The damper was open.” She glared at him with as much of a challenge in her eyes as in her voice. “There—are you satisfied now?”

He flashed her a dazzling smile, freely allowing the sound of victory to fill his voice. “That wasn’t really so difficult, was it?”

“Yes, it was!” Her angry retort quickly turned to an awkward moment as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. She rubbed her hand across the back of her neck and glanced at the floor. Her words were soft, her voice a whisper. “I just assumed—”

“You assumed…what? That I’m a hopelessly inept jerk who isn’t capable of handling the most basic task?” He saw the embarrassment color her cheeks again and he immediately regretted the harshness of his words, regardless of how true they had been.

She tried to recover the upper hand. “You have to admit that your lifestyle certainly doesn’t lend itself to—”

“Perhaps my ‘lifestyle’ isn’t what you think it is.” He clenched his jaw in an attempt to bite off his anger. “True, I’ve spent the past few years more or less wandering around…” The sadness and despair that suddenly welled inside him forced an end to his comments.

He turned the word over in his mind. Lifestyle. He had no purpose in life or even any goals. Always a party to go to, but no one special with whom to share the joys or the sorrows…especially the sorrows. That was not a lifestyle—it was loneliness.

He had always envied Justin, who seemed to have everything he didn’t. Even though Justin was divorced, he had family and was very close to his sister. He had a career he loved, a home and close friends. He had roots, something that was important to him. And Jessica—she was a very together lady. They had everything that mattered. They had what he very much wanted.

What little family Dylan started with had long ago been taken away. He was an only child. His father had deserted the family when he was ten years old. He eventually learned that his father had died five years later. His mother died within two weeks of the time he had been left literally at the altar on his wedding day. It seemed that those closest to him had deserted him. It was a lesson he had learned the hard way—if you allow someone into your heart or to touch your place of vulnerability you will end up being hurt. Close emotional attachments weren’t for him, but he truly envied Justin and Jessica.

Dylan turned away before his moment of melancholy became obvious to Jessica. It was just the type of vulnerability he did not want to show to this woman who had already developed some very definite opinions of him. He grabbed the empty coffee mug from the kitchen counter, filled it and handed it to her. He forced an upbeat attitude to his tone. “You never answered me about cream or sugar.”

“Just black.” She reached out to take the mug from his hand. Their fingers touched for an instant, the warmth much more than what was being generated by the coffee. Her gaze locked with his, held there as if by some force beyond her control. Her breath froze in her lungs. She finally managed to look away, but it did not still the pounding of her heart.

He carried his coffee mug to the living room, taking a swallow as he walked. He desperately wanted to smooth out the tension that permeated the air. Then an incident from his youth popped into his mind. He couldn’t stop the chuckle that accompanied it.

She stared at him, her expression part curiosity and part irritation. “This entire morning has been a disaster. Just what is it that you find so funny?”

He took another sip of his coffee and settled into a comfortable chair. “The disaster with the fireplace reminded me of something that happened a long time ago, when I was about fifteen years old.” Another soft chuckle escaped his throat as the recollection from his past settled over him.

“My mother and I lived in an old house that had a fireplace left over from a time before the furnace had been installed. She was down the block playing cards with the neighbors. I decided it was a perfect evening to invite my girlfriend over on the pretext of our studying together. I planned to build this romantic fire in the fireplace the way I’d seen in movies.”

“At fifteen years old you were planning romantic evenings?”

He shot her a sly sidelong glance. “Fifteen-year-old hormones are difficult to argue with.” He allowed a quiet moment of reflection as the memory of simpler times warmed his consciousness.

“I had wood, newspapers and matches, all the things I thought I needed to build this romantic fire. I had everything put together the way I thought it should be, with newspaper on the bottom, little pieces of wood on top of that, then bigger pieces on the top of the pile. It was time for her to arrive. I struck a match and lit the newspaper which immediately flared up and caught the small pieces of wood. When I was sure the fire was going I opened the front door and went out on the porch to watch for her. Before I knew what was happening, the room filled with smoke and it billowed out the door. A neighbor saw the smoke and called the fire department.”

He turned and looked at her. “And that’s how I learned about dampers in a fireplace.” He emitted another gentle laugh mixed with a hint of embarrassment. “What about you? Do you have any most embarrassing moment from your past that you’d like to share?”

Only two truly embarrassing moments leaped to her mind. The first one was having several people show up for what she thought was her lunch date with Dylan when she was sixteen years old. The other was catching her husband in bed with another woman. She had no intention of mentioning either incident. “I…uh…can’t think of anything right now.”

“Oh, I see. I’m left here with my embarrassment exposed, and you’re keeping yours a secret.” His teasing grin let her know he wasn’t angry or upset.

He had shared a personal experience with her, something from his past. It was a warm few minutes that left her enveloped in a feeling of closeness, one totally different from anything she had been prepared for. It was as if she was seeing a totally different Dylan Russell than the one she assumed she knew. The reflective moment was broken when he rose from the chair.

“I guess the next order of business is to figure out exactly what’s blocking the chimney.” He bent down on the hearth and attempted to look up into the darkness, then turned back toward her. “Do you have a flashlight somewhere around here?”

“Yes, in the kitchen. I’ll get it for you.” She hurried to the kitchen. Her desire to escape the smooth presence that had been lulling her into a very receptive mood was as strong as the need to retrieve the flashlight. She quelled the uncertainty churning in her stomach. Nothing was as it should be—least of all Dylan Russell. It was more than Justin having let him use the cabin. More than her having inadvertently climbed into bed with him. She feared just how much more it might turn out to be.