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“You’re a good friend, then, to make a trip in this weather.” He still wasn’t sure why he couldn’t accept she was here to bring his supplies. It just seemed off that the store would send a woman out alone in this crazy-monstrous spring blizzard to deliver paper towels and canned goods. He should call, just to verify, which he would as soon as the supply offices reopened tomorrow...or after the storm.
A deep, shining smile plumped her cheeks, eyes dancing in the warm light. “We all have our reasons for doing things. Friendship is a treasure—and a hefty motivator.”
“True enough.” His parents and their next-door neighbors had been best friends, like family.
They’d been thrilled when Royce had started dating their friends’ daughter, the girl next door, whose father worked alongside his. His parents hadn’t been as excited when she got pregnant, since a baby would have changed his plans for a PhD. However, wedding preparations ensued...until a pipeline explosion rocked the town. His fiancée’s father died.
Then his fiancée miscarried the baby.
Before Royce could process the grief over losing his child, Carrie Lynn had broken the engagement and left. For good.
Life fell apart for him. He didn’t give himself over to emotion easily. It wasn’t in his nature. Figuring out how to recover from that loss ten years ago had been tougher than anything he’d faced in his life.
But Royce had pieced himself back together with an unwavering focus on work and a dedication to reducing the chances of a pipeline tragedy happening to any other family again. Hell, he was better off doing what he did best.
Dealing with science and facts, not emotions and feelings.
His passion for his work had cost him relationships, but damn it, he wasn’t interested in changing himself or his values for anyone.
Take him as he was. Period.
So, in reality, this woman wasn’t a threat beyond being a physical temptation.
Reassured for the moment, he stepped out of his boots, his wool socks much like hers. Except his weren’t purple.
Naomi closed the cabinet and settled in an empty chair, crossing her legs, purple-socked foot swinging. “Are you vacationing?”
“Working.” A fact that shouldn’t require elaboration.
She laughed lightly. “You don’t look like a professional ice fisherman.”
“I’m not.”
“Then what are you working on?” she asked, drumming her fingers on his laptop computer, his abacus key chain resting beside on the table. “Your memoirs of life in the Alaskan wilds fighting bears?”
“Nosy much?” He moved the final box of supplies to the floor and sat in the other chair, eyeing her.
“I’m just making polite conversation. Unless you’re going to cue up Netflix, we have time to kill waiting out the storm.”
Damn, she was funny and sassy as well as hot. How long was this storm supposed to last?
“I have an extensive library on my tablet. You’re welcome to browse. Make yourself comfortable over there on the sofa.”
Out of his workspace and far enough away so that he wouldn’t be breathing in the crisp scent of her, something like—he sought an intellectual answer to such an elemental scent—like the water, the ocean. Icy salt air. Did they make that into a perfume or was it just the scent of her? He focused back in on her words.
“While you work at...”
“I’m a science professor.” He tossed out his generic answer, a truth. He did give the periodic guest lecture series.
“So, you have papers to grade?” she pushed without budging from her seat.
“Hmm...” He pulled his tablet out of his computer bag and cued up the library, while making sure the rest of his data was tightly password protected.
“You’re not the chatty sort.”
“Nope.”
“You were talkative earlier, with the bear.” She toyed with her ponytail, shiny black strands gliding through her fingers.
“Adrenaline.” A chemical currently pumping through his body again as he watched her play with her hair. Was it his imagination or was she flirting?
And if she was, did he want to take her up on that offer?
Hell, yes.
She reached across the small teak table. “Is the offer for that tablet full of reading material still available?”
* * *
Three hours later, stars glinting overhead and a fire crackling in the stone hearth, Naomi curled up with a blanket and throw pillows, pretending to be engrossed in a mystery novel on the glowing tablet. She’d already read it a week ago, so if Royce asked questions, she would be able to answer. Meanwhile, she could study him and figure out how best to proceed.
Upon reflection, Naomi wasn’t so sure this plan had been her best. After receiving the investigator’s report, she’d moved quickly. Usually a strength of hers. Fast decision-making.
But given the upheaval in her family lately, she had to admit, she wasn’t at the top of her game.
She’d rushed up here without considering all the outcomes.
Gathering a look at Royce’s data would be easier said than done, and a few notes here and there would only have short-term benefits. Persuading him to join forces with the Steele and Mikkelson family businesses, which were merging into Alaska Oil Barons, was going to be a challenge. Especially with the tumultuous press her family had been generating since her dad had announced his surprise engagement to the Mikkelson widow—Jeannie. Stock prices had dropped.
Then her brother had gotten engaged to a Mikkelson and they were parenting a baby together.
Boom. No warning.
Stock prices dipped again. The board of directors rumbled there was too much chaos, too much emotional fallout and not enough strategy. They weren’t sure how the merger would play out, and the board hated uncertainty.
She wasn’t so sure she disagreed with them. She trusted her family. But the Mikkelsons? She’d been raised to consider them the enemy. Had that feud ended just because their patriarch had died? Could the entire contentious atmosphere be blamed on one person?
Not likely.
She needed to solidify her role in the company. She was keeping a close eye on things from a legal perspective, but she’d need to win as many allies as possible to act on any discrepancies she found. She didn’t know how the rival companies would be blended or how leadership positions would be divided. Nabbing Royce Miller for her family’s team would go a long way in garnering loyalty and upping her professional profile.
But she would be a fool to think she could accomplish that tonight. She would settle in and watch his body language; she’d wait for that moment when he started to relax. Another courtroom tactic with a practical application.
Her stomach rumbled, reminding her how little she’d eaten. She’d only managed a few crackers in the morning and a cup of soup at lunch.
Now? She was ravenous. Yes, she had a job to do here with Royce, but she also needed to take care of her baby and keep track of what she ate. With her finicky taste buds lately, it was all too easy to skip eating until she was nearly dizzy, like now.
Setting aside the tablet, she stood and made her way to the kitchenette, sidestepping the table where Royce tapped away at his computer. He glanced up just as she opened the minifridge.
Royce tipped back in his chair, eyeing her with heavy-lidded dark eyes. “That’s my food.”
“I’ll be glad to pay for my portion of this pudding cup and pear.” She tossed the fruit in the air and caught it with a quick snap. “We’re stranded. Do you intend to let me starve—or make me freeze out there ice fishing?”
He chuckled softly, a whiskey rich sound. “If you’re hungry, help yourself to anything in the pantry.”
“I am starving, actually. Bear hunting is quite exhausting.” She crunched a bite of the pear and searched for a spoon. “Can I make you something, to earn my keep and all? I imagine grading papers is tiring.”
“I’m fine. I ate earlier.” He toyed with his abacus key chain, thumbing the beads back and forth. “Thank you though.”
Inspiration struck and she sliced the pear instead. Suddenly, scooping the slices through the chocolate pudding sounded five-star awesome. Her taste buds seemed to vacillate between “no way” and “oh my God good,” these days.
Settling across from him again, she scooped and crunched, savored and watched. A lot of oh my God good for the senses around this place.
Sighing, he finally met her gaze. “What?”
Blinking fast, she smiled widely. “Sorry. Am I bothering you?”
“I’m used to working alone, in quiet.” His gaze homed in on her snack plate.
“Sorry the snowstorm didn’t accommodate. Truly. It could be days, so honestly, it will be easier if we make nice, perhaps talk a bit. You can’t work all the time.”
He closed his computer again and scooped up the key chain. “Fine. Let’s talk. Aren’t you worried I’m a serial killer?”
In a whisper, she asked, trying to ease him into a conversation. Tease him a bit. She had enough brothers to know this tactic would probably work. “Are you?”
“My answer isn’t going to matter.” The abacus beads clicked under his fingers. “You know that, right?”
He had a point, but he didn’t know she wasn’t operating blind here. She wouldn’t be able to carry this off long without risking alienating him altogether. “I’m an incredibly insightful person.”
“From meeting so many people at work.”
She looked up sharply. “Yes, actually.”
“Well, lucky for you, I’m not a serial killer. I’m just an antisocial scientist.”
“That must be tough to maintain in the classroom, Professor.”
“Works fine in a lecture hall.” He set his key chain down again.
Her mind zipped back to the first time she’d heard him speaking to an auditorium full of students and even professionals who’d joined the class to hear him. He saw the oil industry through revolutionary eyes. He walked a difficult line in making all sides of the spectrum happy, upping production while finding ways to increase safety and decrease ecological impact. His brain was every bit as sexy as his body.
O-kay.
Her distraction level was peaking.
She shot to her feet, tossed her empty pudding cup in the trash and popped the last slice of pear into her mouth.
“I thought you were going to eat and read?”
“I think I’m just going to turn in. Since you’re not a serial killer.” She winked.
He lifted an eyebrow. “Do you need some sweats?”
“I think I’ll be fine in my thermal leggings and undershirt. Although I may need to take you up on that offer of sweats tomorrow when wash time comes.” Guilt tugged at her. She really wasn’t playing fair. “Thank you for being so nice about letting me stay here.”
“Don’t be so quick to thank me. I may not be a serial killer, but that doesn’t mean I’m giving up my bed for you.”
And there he went being funny again, like with his litany against the bear. “I didn’t ask you to give me your bed.”
Although she couldn’t deny the raw attraction crackling tangibly in the air. The fire of it filled her mind with images of sharing that bed with him. Something must have flickered in her eyes because his widened, then narrowed, holding hers.
His head tipped to the side.
Nerves tingled along her skin, an unusual occurrence. She wasn’t one to back down. Ever.
Perhaps she could call this a retreat. She swallowed, trying to recover from the heat in his dark eyes. “The sofa’s more than fine. Thank you.”
His chair legs lowered to all four on the floor again. “It’s okay, Naomi. Take the bed. I’ll be working late, anyway.”
“But—”
The words died on her lips as he shook his head. “My mama wouldn’t have it any other way. Manners and all. I’ll sack out on the sofa. Good night, Naomi.”
Good night?
Sleep felt like the furthest thing possible.
* * *
Naomi woke up, legs tangled in the tan satin comforter.
It was dark overhead, but that didn’t mean anything in Alaska. She checked her watch and...holy cow. It was already five in the morning. She’d slept for nearly nine hours, out like a log. She shoved her hair back from her face.
When would she get used to these pregnancy hormones owning her body?
She was grateful for her baby, but she sure hadn’t expected so many physical changes in a couple of months. Slowly, she sat up, wary, but her stomach stayed steady.
Scanning the studio area, she looked for Royce but found the space empty except for the dog snoozing under the table. The computer was nowhere in sight. Apparently, Royce wasn’t leaving it unattended any longer.
Behind the wall that housed the headboard, she heard the shower running. That explained where her “roomie” was. And even though they’d both been in and out of the bathroom area last night, this was different. Thinking of him there, without his clothes, in that tiled shower sent a tingle down her spine clear to her toes.
She needed to distract herself. Pronto.
Naomi flipped back the covers, her fleece-lined leggings and undershirt soft against her skin. Thank goodness Alaskan weather meant layers. That left her with extra clothes while she stayed here longer than she’d expected.
She would sneak a call to her brother while she had privacy. Her backpack held the basics, just enough to seem normal on a day trip, and she refused to vainly wish for her closet full of clothes and makeup.
Focus.
