Frostbite Read online

  Frostbite

  By

  Moira McTark

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Frostbite

  Copyright © 2008 Moira McTark

  ISBN: 978-1-60088-214-2

  Cover Artist: Cris Griffin

  Editor: Leanne Salter

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  Cobblestone Press, LLC

  www.cobblestone-press.com

  Dedication

  To my husband, Chris, and all the McTarks.

  Chapter One

  January 21

  Bethany Phillips awoke with a sense of displacement. Shadows and shapes of the unfamiliar surrounded her. The haze of sleep still thick, she struggled to bring her mental calendar to the forefront of her mind.

  Where was she? Memphis? No, that was last week. Chicago? Uh-uh, two days ago. New York? They’d checked out that morning.

  This was Colorado. Her mouth pulled down in a grimace. The retreat.

  Gut-wrenching memories of their SUV’s ice-slicked ascent up the blustery mountainside turned her stomach once again and renewed her frustration over the absurdity of the Interpersonal Skills retreat. Such a waste of time and resources.

  She sat upright, smoothed the hair from her face, and blinked the sleep from her eyes. The wool slacks she wore itched and she scowled at her failure to retrieve her bag before the driver raced off to pick up the retreat coach and the rest of their team.

  The digital clock next to the bed read 1 a.m. The car should have been back with everyone by now, and the chances she slept through the team’s arrival were slim. Which meant she’d either been drugged into a coma or she was about to be sorely disappointed. There was only one way to find out.

  A lone beam of light shone past her door from the front of the cabin. She walked through the softly lit hall, the smell of cinnamon and cloves mixed with evergreen in the air. Motivational posters promoting teamwork, persistence, and pride, decorated the rough log walls. The message seemed to say, Relax, but not too much. In the main lounge, Ryan Chase, her sales partner, and the only other person within the walls of the log-cabin-fashioned corporate retreat, stood in front of a wide, picture window, staring out at the falling snow.

  Her steps stalled, and her mouth went dry at the sight of him. She’d seen Ryan in thousand dollar suits, seen him groomed to a T in tailored tuxedos, seen him emerge victorious from thirteen-hour negations with his collar open and silk tie askew. But never had she seen him as enticing as this, dressed simply in a pair of black track pants and white T-shirt that left little of his athletic build to the imagination.

  Knowing what he slept in sent a shock of thrill through her. Dangerous thinking for a woman whose plan didn’t include romance. Especially when it was about a man she didn’t trust.

  To her utter consternation, Jared Fikes, her boss and the president of Tracestone Corp, had gotten it into his head that Bethany and Ryan were a perfect team. That their opposing styles complemented each other. That together, they brought the whole package. Thus, she’d been shackled to him for the past six months.

  But, along with being her partner, Ryan was her main competition in the scramble for the next rung on the ladder to the top. He was slick and smooth, her opposite in every way except success. She was a numbers girl, plain and simple. She used data; he used intuition. She was all business; he was always bringing pleasure into the game. Ryan talked about feelings and senses, which translated to risks and gambles in her book. As successful as he’d been, the way she saw it, he lived on luck, and luck didn’t last forever.

  But then, neither would working with Ryan.

  He was a man with a propensity to hop jobs, and he’d already been with the company eighteen months. As far as she was concerned, his next jump was only a matter of time. And that was fine. It meant she wouldn’t have to compete with him much longer. Wouldn’t have his incredible eye-candy appeal to distract her. Wouldn’t have to worry about what kind of coup he might be planning in all those closed-door sessions with Jared. The sooner he was gone, the better.

  So what was she doing with her gaze tracking over his powerful frame…ogling him?

  She forced her mind away from the cotton stretched across the broad expanse of his well-muscled back and the hug of his pants over his butt, and tried to sound casual, flippant. Sound like she hadn’t just stood there and devoured the sight of him.

  “Jesus,” she groaned, worrying the silk knot of her cuff button. “Whose idea was this? A retreat? Who does that? We’re not marketing granola, for crissakes.”

  He rubbed the top of his head with rough strokes. It was one of those signature Ryan moves that at times made him seem very boyish, though she knew he was thirty-six. And the result, disheveled spikes of dark hair that stood on end, only added to his appeal.

  “Lighten up, Beth.” He turned his gray-blue eyes to meet hers, a patient smile set across his stubbled face.

  She blinked and peered up to the exposed beams of the vaulted ceiling. “Sorry.”

  With a shrug, he let it pass as he always did. “I thought you might sleep through. Looks like the others didn’t beat the storm, though, so I’d guess we’re on our own for tonight at least.”

  On their own? Suddenly, the spacious lodge seemed cramped and stuffy. “Fantastic.” She spent nearly every day with this man. So what was the problem with one more night?

  The problem was that it was just the two of them. Ryan was the last man she wanted to be alone with. Really alone with. Their work required extensive travel together. They took cabs, planes, and elevators together, but there were always other people around. She liked it that way. It was easier to maintain her professionalism. At this stage in her life, her job was the most important priority. The problem with being totally, completely alone with him was that her mind wandered to places it shouldn’t go. Places that didn’t revolve around career.

  Ryan rolled his eyes at her less-than-enthusiastic response. “You don’t have to make it sound like such torture.”

  The blood drained from her face, and she squeezed her eyes shut. God, why did she always sound like such a bitch when she talked to him?

  “Come on, Beth. It’s not like I’m going to break out a guitar or cue up the family’s Grand Canyon slide show.”

  Thank God for that. She let out a hideous little snort, which made her cheeks flame in embarrassment.

  There it was again! He always made her laugh, said exactly the right thing. How infuriating to spend nearly every waking moment with a man so at ease and confident in every situation. He was an operator, and she didn’t trust him.

  Which was precisely the reason to keep her mind out of his pants, and why working with him bothered her so much.

  A guy that smooth could hide behind his charm. Her eyes narrowed. He could be plotting anything.

  Reaching over, he ran his thumb under her elbow. “Sorry about your bag. If I’d known the driver would head out so fast, I’d have grabbed it.”

  Plotting? God, she was an idiot. He was obviously trying to be nice. But when she looked down to where his hand met her arm, the breach of her personal space disconcerted her more than the idea of being snowed by a hustler or trapped for a year without her toothbrush.

  The warmth of his touch on her arm set off a chain reaction of lust, anxiety, and frustration that roiled through her system and left her stomach wound in knots like macramé.

  “D
on’t worry about it, Ryan. I should have gotten them. Besides, it’s one night. I’ll live without my nightgown.” Damn, that touch sent her mind straight to sleeping nude. And not alone either.

  It was asinine to think of him in any regard other than professional. He was too slick even without his physical appeal added in the mix, but right now she didn’t want to think about all the reasons he got under her skin at work. Right now, he wasn’t smooth-talking, selling, or charming the pants off anyone. He was watching their small world swirl beyond the glass, and she liked watching him do it.

  The silence hung thick between them as heavy flakes streaked by, obscuring the view beyond the trees a few yards from the cabin.

  Ryan should have known better than to touch her. She’d stiffened up the second his hand grazed her arm. When she’d come down the hall, all rumpled and sexy, fresh out of bed, and he’d caught the reflection of her watching him, he’d lost the perspective to stay professional. Forgotten what he’d hoped to accomplish on this retreat. It was the first time he’d sensed even an iota of potential interest from her, and his mind reeled.

  Getting her alone was a stroke of luck, but now that he’d seen the way she’d looked at him, all he could think of was seeing it again.

  No, he needed to talk to her about his plans, feel her out about the possibility of change. He needed her to relax. To trust him.

  He cocked his head toward the glass and stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

  Her smile eased into that gorgeous, soft curve she so reluctantly offered. The one he was eternally trying to earn.

  “Beautiful? Yes, it is. How long’s it been coming down like this?”

  He stared at the falling snow so he wouldn’t stare at her, and considered. “Maybe five hours now? I would have checked the weather station, but it seems this retreat isn’t about TV. We’re a little out of touch right now.”

  She rolled her eyes. “God, whose idea was this?”

  He shot her a sideways look as his shoulders tensed. Damn, she was pissed about being up here. If he thought there was a chance he could talk her into seeing the retreat as a positive experience, he would have given it his all. In matters like this, though, Bethany had a tendency to stay true to her initial reactions. Stubborn girl.

  “Oh, come on now. It isn’t that bad. You’ve got to admit, it’s pretty peaceful up here with the night drifting past us in tiny pieces. You want to go outside for a bit?”

  Brows arched in utter disbelief, she stared at him. “It’s the middle of the night, in a blizzard. Are you crazy?”

  He could almost hear her think, Typical Ryan. Doesn’t he know it’s

  snowing? He had to fight for every shred of credit from her, yet every bit was worth the fight.

  He’d play it cool. With Beth he had to. But he’d put money on his ability to get her out. “It’s falling pretty heavy, but you can see from the way the flakes are coming down, there isn’t much wind. Whatever, though. Suit yourself.” With a wink, he headed to the front hall.

  Bethany crossed her arms around her waist and shuffled over to where he was bent forward tying up his boots. He looked up at her with an arched eyebrow and his most inviting smile. “Change your mind?”

  “I think I might have, but I don’t have any boots, and I don’t want to wear someone else’s. Maybe I’ll just stand here by the door for a second and let a few flakes blow in on me.”

  Ryan stood up, stamped his feet a few times, and opened the door.

  A thick layer of new snow blanketed the earth around them and seemed to siphon all sound from the surrounding world. Crisp, cold air swept in and crept stealthily around them, teasing Bethany’s nipples into hard points, obvious even through her bra and silk blouse.

  He swallowed hard.

  She leaned against the doorframe, her eyes closed for a moment. “It feels good.”

  Don’t stare. It’s the cold, asshole, not you! Still, with the residual image of her lingering gaze fixed on him, goading his lust, blood thundered through his veins in its plummeting descent to his cock. Playing it cool was no longer an option.

  “Then you ought to come out.” Before she could protest, he ducked and grabbed her around the thighs, just under her ass, and hoisted her straight off the ground.

  “Ryan!” Her startled shriek escaped with a finish of resistant laughter as her fingers dug into his shoulders. Her touch was so foreign; somehow he’d expected it to be lighter. But when he thought of how tenacious she was in work and every other aspect of her life he’d been able to finagle information about, a ferocious grip seemed the perfect fit.

  He walked them both out a few feet from the house into the middle of the walkway and tightened his hold around her legs. She seemed self-

  conscious in his arms, holding herself in a slight arch away from his face.

  “I should dump your ass in the snow for all the complaining you’ve done about this trip.” He laughed and swung her forward so her hair hung an inch above the snow.

  Her eyes went wide then sparked with delight as they fixed on him. “You wouldn’t dare,” she growled, gripping tighter.

  What a schmuck, wooing the girl he liked with teasing and torture. How the hell had he become that guy? He was thirty-six, had a smooth rap and his pick of most any woman he aimed for. What was he doing still showboating for the girl who never noticed? Well, she was smiling now, and as embarrassed as he was to admit it, having her fists balled in his shirt and her attention on him was immensely satisfying.

  He grinned and swung her back upright. “No, I wouldn’t dare.” She relaxed and, quietly, he savored the feel of her in his arms.

  Turning in a slow circle, he noted the heavier snowfall. Visibility ended within fifteen feet. Even the view of the door was obscured. But in the midst of nature’s chaos, it was perfectly serene. At least it was until he turned his attention back to the woman in his arms and his sense of calm collapsed.

  Snow had settled against the full swell of her silk-covered breasts and, already, her body heat was melting the flakes. The silk clung provocatively against her skin, delineating every bump and ridge of her hard nipples under the lacy sheath of her bra.

  She looked down at him through lashes dusted with white. Red patches marked her cheeks, and a shy smile graced her face. Beautiful. Too beautiful.

  Clearing his throat, he asked, “You chilly up there?”

  She blinked the snow from her eyes and nodded. “Maybe a little. Thank you for bringing me out.”

  Holding her gaze longer than he should have, he finally carried her back inside and kicked the door closed behind them. “My pleasure.”

  Chapter Two

  Bethany rested her hands on his shoulders, enjoying the solid mass of them. He was strong, sturdy, and somehow had the confidence to treat her in a way no one else would ever dare. It felt good. She brushed the snow out of his dark-brown hair, and the second her fingers touched the damp mess, she recognized the intimacy of the gesture. What was she doing?

  He turned his face up to meet her gaze, and everything seemed to stop. There was a heat in his eyes she’d never before seen. This was a foolish game—Ryan wasn’t someone she wanted. She didn’t want anyone. Romance was distraction enough from the big picture, but an affair with a coworker—her partner—would be crazy.

  And yet, here she was, supported in his arms, running her fingers through the short waves of his hair, thinking about the hard planes of his chest against her belly. Her thighs at his waist. At that moment, the idea of being crazy for one night out of her life, spreading her legs and wrapping them around him, was almost irresistible.

  His fisted grip around her thighs loosened, and his open palms rested flat. The pressure against her right leg eased, while the left remained subtly secured, and she slipped down his body, the friction between her legs building as she rode over the hard bulge of his cock and tensed muscle of his thigh.

  Their eyes leveled, and Bethany sucked in her breath. Her hear
t beat fiercely in her chest, her nipples bunched tighter under the sheer silk blouse, and arousal twisted a coil down her body so tight she could barely breathe. “No, Ryan. This is a mistake.” Maybe he would be more convinced than she was.

  “Beth,” he whispered, giving her his serious business face. “I’m going to have to disagree with you.” He dipped his lips to her neck, skimmed along the line of it with purpose, his warm breath melting her resolve, and her body into his. “This doesn’t feel like a mistake to me.”

  “It is.” Her breathy whisper sounded weak even to her.

  There had been nights, after they’d spent the day in negotiations and he slept in the next hotel room over, she’d wondered what it would be like to be with him. With his easy confidence, she imagined there would be nothing tentative about his touch. She’d been right.

  She should have pushed him away. Only now, to finally touch him, to know what it was like to be in his arms, she couldn’t stop.

  Her right hand lingered at the back of his neck, while the left slipped down to his chest, testing the firm resistance. “I don’t have room in my life for romantic entanglements, even if it’s just the residual awkwardness of a one-night stand.”

  His warm palms circled her waist then smoothed up the side and front of her ribs. “The way you work...” His teeth grazed the side of her neck. “...there isn’t room for anything in your life. And besides, it’s already going to be awkward. We should at least make it count for something.”

  He was making some sense, but it was more than just the consequences at work that scared her. It was the intimacy.

  “We’ve got tonight. One romantic, secluded night to work on our interpersonal skills.” He tugged her lobe between his teeth then whispered against her ear, “I know how you like to get the jump on the competition”.

  “Don’t sweet talk me,” she groaned, leaning into him. He was right, the damage was already done, the coworker boundary breached. She should get something out of it. Get it out of her system. If they didn’t do it now, every time they were together they’d wonder. This way, they would know, and when everyone arrived tomorrow, they would pretend it never happened.