Suddenly Last Summer

His brain blurred.

No other woman had made him feel like this. No other woman had stirred this intense, desperate hunger that wiped all thoughts from his head.

Maybe it was because she didn’t want anything from him but this, and knowing that meant he could relax and give in to it.

Rock-hard, he felt her tug his shirt out of his trousers and slide her hands over his skin, greedy to touch him. And he was equally greedy to touch her. His fingers were on her buttons, loosening them, giving him access to the smooth creamy skin revealed by the lace of her bra.

His body craved hers. It was a visceral, physical need that drove all thought from his brain.

And then she stilled, placed her hands on his chest and drew her mouth away from his.

Sensing the change in her he stopped himself from dragging her back. “What’s wrong?”

“We shouldn’t be doing this. It’s been a tough day. Our judgment is impaired.”

“My judgment is just fine.” He held her hard against his body, leaving her in no doubt that he wanted this as much as she did, but she eased away from him and buttoned her shirt.

“You’re in the middle of a stressful experience.”

“And I was managing my stress levels with physical contact.”

“Sex should not be an emotional decision. You’re tired. You need to get to Jackson’s and get some sleep.”

He wondered if it was worth pointing out there was no way he’d sleep. “Fine, but admit to me that that kiss was the best part of your day.”

“It didn’t have much competition. It was a very bad day.” Her hand lingered on his chest as if she was still making up her mind whether to hold on or pull away. She pulled away. “Good night, Sean.”

“Wait—” he caught her arm “—I’ll walk you back to your lodge.”

“I don’t need your protection.”

“I was planning on using you for protection. For my suit, you understand. You’re the one with the flashlight. You go first. That way if something goes squelch, you step in it first.”

“Such a gentleman.” But he heard the smile in her voice.

“You said you wanted a man to perform heroics. I was planning on finding something heroic to do on the walk.” He let go of her arm and adjusted his pace to match hers. “You might want to stick around. You’re about to see a tough, macho man of the forest in action.”

“Does a tough, macho man of the forest always choose to dress in a suit?”

“A bear tore my loincloth when we were wrestling.”

“I can’t imagine you in a loincloth.”

“Mine are custom-made. I have them shipped from Milan.”

They reached Heron Lodge and she took the steps two at a time, lithe and athletic. “Sleep well, Sean.”

“Will you be all right tonight? Are you sure you want to sleep alone?” He had no idea why he’d asked that question. What would he do if she said no? Spending the whole night with a woman wasn’t something he did.

“I sleep alone every night, Sean.” She paused with her hand on the door, a quiet, wistful note to her voice. “And that’s the way it’s staying.”

CHAPTER FOUR

ÉLISE ROSE AT dawn after a night where her only sleep had produced a nightmare in which Jackson told her Snow Crystal had been sold and the shock had killed Walter.

After splashing her face with cold water, she pulled on her shorts and running shoes, grabbed her water bottle and MP3 player and paused for a moment on the deck to breathe in the scent of the lake. The water was mirror-smooth, reflecting a perfect image of the trees crowding the shoreline. The air was fresh and clean. A cool breeze brushed over her bare arms, waking her up and driving out the dream.

It was her favorite time of day. In Paris she would have run along the banks of the Seine and through the Jardin des Tuileries in front of the Louvre, the accompanying sounds the noise of traffic and the cacophony of horns. She would have weaved through crowds of fractious tourists and breathed in air clogged by traffic fumes while her feet pounded pavements baked by the summer sun. Here, the air she breathed was fresh and clean and the only sounds came from the forest and the lake. Even days when it rained continuously didn’t detract from her love of the place.

She ran along the forest path to the boathouse and the only sounds were her breathing, the crack of twigs underfoot and the call of the birds. A family of ducks swam lazily around the edge of the lake, diving in and out of the reeds.

As she took the steps to the boathouse, she glanced at the railing, half expecting to see a charred mark where Sean had kissed her, but the wood was smooth and perfect.

The forest had kept their secret for a year and it seemed it was willing to keep it a little longer.

Her friends were already waiting for her.

Brenna was warming up, performing a series of small lunges while Kayla was leaning against the trunk of a tree, using the time to catch up on work.

“You’re late, Chef.” She spoke without looking up from her phone. Scarily efficient, she lived her life with one eye on the clock. Right now her blond hair was pulled into a ponytail but later it would hang smooth and perfect to her shoulders as she attacked her working day.

Élise had seen the effort Kayla had put into building the Snow Crystal name and had nothing but respect for her. It wasn’t just because of Jackson that the business was still alive and they all had jobs.

“Any news on Walter?” Brenna bent into a deep stretch. Supremely fit from her job running the Outdoor Center and sports program, she was the one who had suggested their daily morning run and they’d been doing it since the snow had melted. Today she was wearing a scoop-neck tank top in bright fuchsia-pink with a pair of minuscule black shorts.

Élise blinked. “Has Tyler ever seen you in those?”

“No idea. Why would I even care?”

Élise shared a brief glance with Kayla who shrugged and then went back to her phone.

Brenna’s feelings for Tyler were something they’d both learned not to mention.

“You need to put that phone down and warm your muscles up, Kayla.” Brenna carried on stretching. “One of these days you’re going to have an injury.”

“I just left Jackson in bed. I’m toasty warm, thank you very much.” But she halfheartedly jogged on the spot while she finished dealing with her emails. “And Walter had a good night, according to Sean. He called Jackson from the hospital just before I left. Do we have to run today? Can’t we just test the new coffee machine in the Boathouse? Élise makes great coffee.”

“No.” Brenna put her hands behind her head and squeezed her shoulder blades together. “Without me you’d turn into a couch potato.”

“I would love to be a couch potato.” Kayla smothered a yawn. “I didn’t get enough sleep last night.”

“Thanks for pointing out you’re the only one of the three of us with a sex life.”

“It isn’t my sex life that’s making me tired. It was Sean, crashing around at three in the morning to go to the hospital. He spent the night at our place. Why can’t men ever tread softly? I thought a moose was walking through the living room.”

“He’s six-two. All that prime male muscle weighs some.” Brenna winked at Kayla. “Not that I’d know, of course. I’ve never had his weight on me.”

“Jackson told him we have a house rule about guests not walking around naked.” Kayla looked up from her phone long enough to smile. “I told him that wasn’t my house rule.”

“Wouldn’t be mine, either. Or Élise’s, I’ll guess.” Brenna adjusted her running shoes and glanced slyly at Élise. “Now that Sean’s home, your sex life might liven up.”

Élise was lost in a pit of gloom over having to cancel the party. “Why would my sex life liven up?”

“You and Sean were pretty close last summer.”

Élise was beginning to wish she hadn’t told them what had happened. “It was one night. And if either of you mention it to Jackson I will kill you.”

“Why only one night?”

“Because I felt like having sex and so did Sean.” And she would never, ever risk more than one night. “Haven’t you ever just had sex because a guy is seriously hot and makes you laugh?”

“No. I’ve never been any good at the one-night thing.” Brenna pulled her dark hair into a ponytail. “Just about everyone I meet has known me since kindergarten. If I have a one-night stand with someone chances are I’ll bump into them in the store the next day. I’d die.”

“Why would that cause you to die?” Élise was curious. “Why would it matter if you bumped into them?”

“It would be majorly embarrassing.”

“If it was something you both agreed to, why would it be embarrassing? You just say bonjour and smile or if the sex was really bad I suppose you might just smile a little less. Be a little cooler so that they don’t think you want to do it again.”

Brenna gave her a look of exasperation. “Are all French people like you?”

“Je ne sais pas. Kayla asked me the same question yesterday. I don’t know all French people, only a few. But I don’t understand why sex between consenting adults is something to feel embarrassed about. It is certainly not a reason to die.”

“So you don’t feel embarrassed when you see Sean? It isn’t at all uncomfortable? You don’t look at him and think shit I wish I hadn’t done that?”

“No, I look at him and think Élise, this guy is super hot and you have impeccable taste in men. It was great sex and why would I ever regret great sex?”

“So why not do it again?”

“My rule is one night.”

“I had a rule of never having a relationship with someone at work.” Kayla sent another email. “Look at me now.”

“That doesn’t count.” Brenna flipped open the cap on her water bottle. “Technically speaking, you didn’t work for Jackson.”

“He was a client,” Kayla said dryly. “I think that’s probably worse. Shame Brett didn’t just fire me for gross misconduct. Then I wouldn’t have spent the last six months commuting backward and forward between New York and Snow Crystal.”

“You could have left sooner.”

“Yes, but we were in the middle of projects and I have too much pride in my work to abandon them.”

“You mean you are a control freak.”

“That, too.” Kayla shrugged. “Hey, I admit it. And talking of control freaks, I need your plans for the winter program, Bren, so I can work up some promotional ideas.”

“Sure. While Sean is home I’m going to pin him down and talk him into helping me design a pre-season conditioning program of strength training for the winter. He’s an expert in sports medicine. I thought we’d offer a short program for the guests and also advice on avoiding ski injuries. Sean has a good reputation. He’s a skier as well as a surgeon so he has a lot of respect around here.”

“Better be quick about it.” Kayla finally slipped her phone into her pocket. “I doubt he’ll hang around for long.”

“Maybe he’ll stay because Élise is here,” Brenna suggested.

“The principle behind one night is that it’s just one night.” Why did they have such trouble understanding that? “I cannot make this any plainer. The only reason I would want him to stay is for Walter.”

But Walter had told him to go. Why? Was it pride? Was he worried about Sean’s job? His stress levels?

“One night doesn’t sound very romantic. You never want to fall in love and get married? What?” Brenna spread her hands as they both stared at her. “So I admit I’m a little old-fashioned. I believe in relationships and happy-ever-afters and maybe it’s not cool to admit it, but I want all that one day. The whole package. I know there’s a man out there for me somewhere. I just need time to leave this place so I can find him.”

Élise suspected the right man might be closer than Brenna thought.

Kayla glanced at her and then shrugged, clearly thinking there was no point in broaching a subject Brenna refused to touch. “Give up, Bren. Does Élise really strike you as the nesting type?”

Élise slid her headphones into her ears. “Let’s run.”

They had no idea.

Once, she’d wanted all those things. She’d dreamed of family and a love like the one Walter and Alice shared. A love that would last decades and weather the hailstones that life hurled down from time to time. She’d dreamed of all that and more, but then she’d learned that dreams could be dangerous and love was the most dangerous emotion of all.

It could destroy a person. Break them into pieces.

She ran hard and fast, using exercise to clear her head, overtaking even Brenna and arriving back first to the Boathouse.

She unlocked the door and opened up the glass front, allowing in light and air, feeling a rush of excitement as she saw the newly painted interior and the floor. Framed photographs of Snow Crystal taken in all four seasons hung on the walls. She’d chosen everything, from the chairs to the china and she was thrilled with the result.

It was going to be a success, she knew it.

The Inn at Snow Crystal, the main restaurant, was perfect for people looking for elegant fine dining. It was for special occasions—birthdays, anniversaries, the celebration of a vacation, but not everyone could afford that, or wanted that. Sometimes all people wanted was to enjoy a relaxed meal with their family with a view of the water. They wanted to enjoy fresh, simple food that wouldn’t blow the holiday budget.

Élise had been experimenting with dishes for months. The Boathouse would serve fresh, seasonal food either on the pretty, sun-baked deck or indoors while summer rain drenched the roof. She’d worked hard on the children’s menu, developing recipes that were varied, appealing and nutritious. There would be something for everyone.

She’d overseen everything from kitchen design to the subtle outdoor lighting that would add a little romance for couples wanting to savor a special evening dining alfresco.

Breakfast by the water would be a highlight. There would be fluffy pancakes, both American and French crêpes, served with their own maple syrup. She’d perfected a homemade granola recipe and she intended to offer it with fresh blueberries and compote made from fruits picked from the orchard. She’d even considered making her own Snow Crystal apple juice.

For those who rose later in the day there would be a range of coffee options with freshly baked pastries. Lunch and dinner would be a bistro menu, with food from the grill. Casual, but still top-quality. All her food was purchased from local suppliers and she spent a part of every week visiting farmers and working to build long-term relationships with the local agricultural community. Seasonal and sustainable were the two words she drummed into the people who worked for her.

Everything was perfect, except the fact that they wouldn’t open on time.

Brenna ran across the deck without pausing. “See you later.”

Kayla arrived two minutes later, panting for breath. “You two are going to kill me. If I don’t die on the way home, I’ll email you that list and we can start making those calls to cancel the party.”

Left alone with that dispiriting thought, Élise made coffee for herself but even her new coffee machine couldn’t cheer her up. She ground the beans fresh, tamped the coffee and then timed the pour, taking comfort from the familiarity of the routine. Unfortunately it didn’t take her mind off the fact that she’d failed Jackson. Nor did it take her mind off Sean.

It was a good job her friends hadn’t chosen to go for a late-night run or they might have witnessed more than the flight of an owl.

And no doubt they would have read things into it that weren’t there.

People did that, didn’t they? To most people a kiss was never just a kiss, but always the prelude to something more.

Not for her.

Never for her.

With the sun shining and the aroma of fresh coffee rising from the cup, she started to relax.

She’d make the calls. Get it done.

There really wasn’t a problem.

She’d reached the point of almost believing that when she turned her head and saw Sean standing on her almost finished deck.

HE’D BEEN WATCHING her for a full minute, standing in the quiet of the morning, breathing in the scent of lake and forest, tinged with the tantalizing aroma of freshly ground coffee.

After the fright he’d given her the night before he’d intended to make his presence known, but he’d been distracted first by the length of her legs in running shorts and then by his first proper look at the project he’d viewed in the dark the previous evening.

Bathed in sunlight, he could see just how much had been done and it took a minute for him to reconcile the sleek lines of the renovated boathouse with the wreck that had been his sanctuary growing up.

Before he could announce himself she’d turned, her hair swinging softly around her face and brushing her jaw. “Are you going to make a habit of showing up behind me without warning?”

“Sorry. I was just wondering what happened to all the splintered planks and spiders.” Pushing aside the past in favor of the present, he stared at the cup in her hand. “I don’t suppose you need more practice using that fancy new machine?”

“No, but if you’d like coffee I’ll make you one. Jackson and Kayla not treating you well?”

“The only coffee I could find was instant. And they definitely need you to stock their kitchen.” Sean walked across the half-finished deck, scanning the work that needed to be done. “So do you run every morning?”

“Yes. With Brenna and Kayla. You just missed them. We do a circuit of the lake.” She reached for another cup. “Espresso? I don’t have milk here yet. You’ll have to drink it black.”

“Black works for me. Double please. So this is how the place looks in daylight.”

“We’re expecting delivery of the tables today. Apart from that, the interior is almost finished.”

“That coffee machine looks as if it could fly to the moon and back on its own.” Polished chrome and levers stood proudly behind the counter that would no doubt stock an array of food once they opened. “Looks complicated.”

“This from a man who operates on complex fractures?”

“Most of the time it’s like doing a jigsaw. There’s a certain rhythm to it.” He watched as the coffee dripped into the cup, the rich, pungent smell mingling with the tang of varnish and fresh paint. The old boathouse was barely recognizable as the place he’d hidden out in his youth. The stained, splintered walls peppered by daylight no longer existed. In their place was creamy paintwork and polished floorboards. The eye was drawn, not to trees waving through gaps in the wood, but to large photographs of the lakes and mountains around Snow Crystal that now hung on the walls. Where cobwebs had once been strung floor to ceiling, there were tall elegant plants. It was stylish, and yet welcoming.

He couldn’t fault it, nor was he sentimental, so it made no sense to feel a sense of loss for what had once been. “You’ve designed this place well. I never would have thought of developing it.”

“It seemed like a good idea at the time. Today, I’m not so sure. At some point Kayla and I have to start calling a hundred and twenty people to tell them the party isn’t happening.”

“There’s no way the deck will be finished on time?”

“Not unless the elves come in the night. I am angry with myself for not putting in place a contingency plan.” She handed him the coffee, scooped up her own and took it outside. The half-finished deck was warmed by early morning sunshine. “I am lucky Jackson is too much of a gentleman to shout at me.”

“Maybe he doesn’t think there’s a reason to shout.” He followed her. “Seems to me you’re angry enough without anyone else adding to it. Are you always this hard on yourself?”

“I don’t like letting people down. I’m part of the team here.” Her voice was fierce. “This party is important. We’ve invited people from the tourist office, from local business, Kayla even has journalists coming in from New York. And I’ve messed it up.”

“I don’t see why it’s your fault. Sometimes things happen. Life happens. Believe me, I know. I clear up after life all the time. She has a habit of leaving her mess everywhere, often when people least expect it.”

“I should have built in more time. But I chose the date because I wanted the Boathouse open so that we could make the most of the summer months. I was doing my best to boost our profits and get good publicity, but now it will backfire because we will look inefficient.”

Her loyalty and devotion to a place with which she had no blood ties still puzzled him. “Do you always give your all to everything?”

“Of course. My passion is my biggest strength.” She sipped her coffee and gave a wry shrug. “And my biggest failing.”

He remembered how that passion had felt under his hands and mouth. “I don’t see it as a failing.”

Their eyes met briefly and he knew her mind was in the same place as his.

Then she turned away. “This is my favorite time of day, before I face the stress. When I see the mist on the lake, I think it’s the most beautiful place in the world, don’t you agree?”

He didn’t, but he’d learned long ago to keep those feelings to himself so he stood still and let the silence wash over him.

“Sean?”

For a moment he’d forgotten she was standing there.

“This place is full of memories.”

He turned his head and looked at what needed to be done to finish the deck, but instead of seeing planks of wood he saw his grandfather, back curved like a bow as he hunched over, sawing wood and banging in nails, Jackson kneeling next to him, soaking it in.

It had been his grandfather who had taught all three boys about the forest, the lake and the wildlife. His love for Snow Crystal was deep and unwavering. He’d been born on O’Neil land and his wish was to die on it. Sean remembered his grandfather taking him into the forest when he was five years old and showing him the growth rings on a tree trunk that had split during a storm in the night. He remembered wondering if his grandfather had the same inside him. A ring for every year he’d spent at Snow Crystal. Walter O’Neil loved the place so deeply he wasn’t able to comprehend that others might not share that devotion. That some people needed more than fresh air, beautiful scenery and a family so close there were days it had felt like being buried in an avalanche.

Sean had felt trapped and unable to breathe. Smothered by expectation.

Élise sighed. “It’s so peaceful, isn’t it? Unbelievably beautiful. You must miss it when you’re in the city.”

Miss it?

He forced himself to glance at the water and see what she was seeing. This time, instead of his grandfather, he saw trees reaching skyward, their shape reflected in the mirrored surface of the lake with perfect clarity. He saw light bounce and sparkle as the early rays of the sun kissed the surface of the water and realized that at some point in his life he’d started to see Snow Crystal as a pressure, not a place.

How often did he take the time to stand still and admire the beauty around him? His day was a series of obligations and commitments. He lived a life that barely allowed time to breathe and rarely allowed time for reflection. His job was about working fast and hard and getting things done, never about standing still.

“It’s going to be a pretty day.” It was the closest he could get to saying what she expected to hear.

“This is one of my favorite spots.” Élise moved to the edge of the deck, stepping over the part that wasn’t finished. “I went for a run on my first morning here and couldn’t understand why it hadn’t been developed along with the rest of the buildings.”

“Snow Crystal has always been full of falling-down buildings. Restoring it is a labor of love.” And he didn’t feel the love. Just the pressure. He wasn’t like Jackson, who had taken the old dilapidated barn and turned it into a stylish home. It was Jackson who had seen the potential for building log cabins in the forest for families to enjoy the outdoors. Sean was happy fixing bones, but not buildings. Left to him, the whole place would have all fallen down.