Книга - Snowed in with Her Ex

Snowed in with Her Ex
Andrea Laurence


Trapped in a cabin with the man who makes her want what she shouldn’t have…Wedding photographer Briana Harper never expected to run into her ex at an engagement shoot! And when a blizzard strands them…alone…in a remote mountain cabin, she knows she’s in trouble. She’s never forgotten Ian Lawson, but none of the reasons they broke up have changed. He’s still a workaholic. And now he’s an engaged workaholic!But Ian is also still a man who knows what he wants. And what he wants is Briana. Untangling the lies of his current engagement leaves him free to…indulge. Yet proving he’s changed may be this music mogul’s toughest negotiation yet….







Trapped in a cabin with the man who makes her want what she shouldn’t have…

Wedding photographer Briana Harper never expected to run into her ex at an engagement shoot! And when a blizzard strands them…alone…in a remote mountain cabin, she knows she’s in trouble. She’s never forgotten Ian Lawson, but none of the reasons they broke up have changed. He’s still a workaholic. And now he’s an engaged workaholic!

But Ian is also still a man who knows what he wants. And what he wants is Briana. Untangling the lies of his current engagement leaves him free to…indulge. Yet proving he’s changed may be this music mogul’s toughest negotiation yet…


He was tempted. So tempted.

How many times over the years had his thoughts strayed to Bree and where she was and what she was doing? And then to have her practically dropped into his lap by a weird twist of fate and weather …

She looked almost exactly the way she had when she was his. It was hard for his brain and his body to recognize that was no longer the case. When his fingertips brushed across her pink mouth, her lips had parted seductively, nearly begging him to kiss her. And he’d wanted to. Man, he’d wanted to.

Which was why he walked away. Why he had to stay away from Bree Harper.

* * *

Snowed in with Her Ex is part of the Brides and Belles series— Wedding planning is their business … and their pleasure.


Dear Reader, (#u52d49405-c80c-5896-870f-0623bcc3b8db)

I love weddings. I do. Give me a marathon of Say Yes to the Dress or Platinum Weddings and I can waste a whole day. There’s just something about the moment—bringing together all the important people in your life to celebrate love. I enjoy every detail, from choosing table linens and cake flavors to offering guests signature cocktails and a fun after-party where they can dance and enjoy themselves. Sometimes I think if I wasn’t in the romance-writing business, I’d get into the wedding-planning business.

The beauty of being a writer is that I can experience other careers through my characters. With this new Brides and Belles miniseries, I’ll finally get to fill my need for wedding fabulousness. All that time watching David Tutera will finally pay off—it’s research!

At From This Moment, the wedding company featured in the book, the four women who started the company each have their specialties. Bree is the photographer, the artist and the shunner of technology. She’s passionate about her art and following her dream, so of course I bring back the man from her past who walked away from his own dreams and trap them in a cabin during a blizzard. It doesn’t take long for the heat these two put off to melt the ice.

If you enjoy Ian and Bree’s story, tell me by visiting my website at www.andrealaurence.com (http://www.andrealaurence.com), like my fan page on Facebook or follow me on Twitter. I’d love to hear from you!

Enjoy,

Andrea


Snowed in with Her Ex

Andrea Laurence






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


ANDREA LAURENCE is an award-winning contemporary romance author who has loved books and has been writing stories since she learned to read and write. She always dreamed of seeing her work in print and is thrilled to be able to share her books with the world. A dedicated West Coast girl transplanted into the Deep South, she’s working on her own happily-ever-after with her boyfriend and five fur-babies. You can contact Andrea at her website, www.andrealaurence.com (http://www.andrealaurence.com).


To My Mountain Companions—

Linda Howard, Linda Jones, Marilyn Baxter,

Kimberly Lang, Kira Sinclair & Dani Wade

This book, quite literally, would not be possible without all the great trips we’ve taken to the mountains together. (Some of the settings might sound a little familiar!) Linda, thank you for generously allowing us to have this experience with you. I have a lot of great memories of our trips, including rowdy games of Cranium and Cards Against Humanity, midnight Walmart runs to make foil hats, and watching Kim pull silverware out of her purse at Dixie Stampede. With you guys, I laugh until my face hurts and my throat is raw. Those trips are one of my favourite times of year.


Contents

Cover (#u04347a4b-0a13-5c58-a962-7efa4d2a105c)

Back Cover Text (#ud4b97375-70ad-5392-b054-65a4da3d6bca)

Introduction (#ucf5c1532-269c-5e39-89df-40cd26a1e435)

Dear Reader

Title Page (#u1dd4a3d4-7ef6-5fcf-afa6-fa3999d1e0cb)

About the Author (#u42333405-52f4-5421-9e39-cd6406c72701)

Dedication (#uebaa2274-e32b-5fd7-a24c-d32a3d46b92f)

Prologue

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Epilogue

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


Prologue (#u52d49405-c80c-5896-870f-0623bcc3b8db)

“I’m sorry.” Briana Harper interrupted her business partner in the middle of their weekly meeting. “Did you just say we’ve booked the Missy Kline and Ian Lawson wedding? The Missy Kline and Ian Lawson?”

Natalie, the wedding planner and office manager, looked up from her tablet, her brow furrowing in mild irritation at Bree breaking her flow. “Yes,” she said with a heavy sigh. “What’s the big deal with that? We have plenty of celebrity weddings.”

Bree shook her head and returned to tapping absently at her own tablet. “I’m just surprised, that’s all.” That wasn’t all, but she wasn’t going to tell her best friends and business partners that. One of the most important rules at From This Moment was to remain professional at all times. It didn’t matter if the ring bearer knocked over the wedding cake, a guest spoke up during the dreaded “if anyone has any reason why these two should not be wed” moment or the groom was your ex-boyfriend. So Bree kept her mouth shut.

“They’re all over the magazine covers at the grocery store checkout lines,” Gretchen added. “I don’t know how you could’ve missed it. Apparently she’s pregnant, too.”

“I guess I’ve been eating too much takeout,” Bree muttered. Pregnant. The bare-midriff pop queen was going to have Ian’s baby. For some reason that bothered her. A lot. How could she have missed this news?

Natalie flung her dark brown hair over her shoulder and continued on with her Monday morning briefing. When Natalie was focused on the job, there was no room for joking around or unnecessary drama.

Each Monday, the four owners of From This Moment met to discuss new clients, business issues and the previous weekend’s wedding.

From This Moment was a one-stop wedding venue that catered to the discriminating Nashville bride. Anybody who was anybody got married at their facility. In just six short years, college friends Natalie, Amelia, Gretchen and Bree had gone from being nobodies with a dream to members of the Nashville business elite.

Together, they were a powerhouse of wedding perfection. If they couldn’t do it, they knew someone who could. Anything the bridal couple wanted, they made it happen. No request was too complex, and they built a reputation on that. That, and a policy of strict confidentiality.

Natalie was right; they did have their fair share of celebrities marry here. Missy Kline was just one more star they could add to their roster of famous clients, but Bree couldn’t care less about her. She was far more interested in Missy’s groom—Nashville music producer and owner of SpinTrax Records, Ian Lawson.

Once upon a time, Ian had been the center of Bree’s universe. They had met as freshmen at Belmont University in Nashville and for more than a year, they had been inseparable. He had been the sexy coffee shop musician with the long hair in his sleepy eyes and the smile that could charm her panties off. When he’d played his guitar and sang to her, all was right in the world. And then he had stopped playing and everything went wrong.

“Bree?”

Bree’s head snapped up. The other three ladies were looking at her. She’d obviously missed something. “Yes?”

“I said,” Natalie repeated, “will you be able to do the engagement portraits this Thursday and still be back in time to cover the rehearsal dinner for the Conner wedding on Friday?”

Now it was Bree’s turn to frown. “Why wouldn’t I be back in time? It only takes a couple hours for an engagement shoot.”

“The bride wants to do the photo shoot at the groom’s cabin in Gatlinburg.” Amelia repeated the detail Bree had missed.

“That should be fine.”

“Okay, good.” Natalie made a note. “I’ll get you the address of the cabin. Plan to arrive around noon.”

That was that. Once Natalie noted something in her tablet, it was virtually signed in blood. There was no getting out of it now. Bree would finally come face-to-face with the man who had haunted her thoughts and dreams for the past nine years.

And his new bride.


One (#u52d49405-c80c-5896-870f-0623bcc3b8db)

“This is not good.”

As though the universe had heard Ian’s words, the tires on his Cadillac Escalade skidded on a patch of ice. He corrected the truck’s erratic movement and steered it back into the lane and away from the deep ditch on the side of the road. Gripping the leather steering wheel with white-knuckled tension, he cursed and silently thanked his assistant for making sure he left first thing this morning. Any later and he might not have made it.

The snowflakes were growing increasingly difficult to see through and were collecting along the side of the road. On the freeway from Nashville toward Gatlinburg, the weather had changed from rain to sleet to an icy slush. Now, in the heart of the Smoky Mountains, it was one hundred percent snow.

And a lot of it.

At the bottom of the hill that led to his mountainside community, he backed up slightly, put his SUV into a lower gear and started accelerating up the incline. Slow and steady, he made it up and around the long, winding curve to his driveway at the very top, then pulled into the garage.

Ian grabbed his bag from the passenger’s seat and stepped out. He walked to the door to his cabin, pushed a button and watched the snow continue to fall until the garage door closed and blocked out the inclement weather he hadn’t planned for.

He should’ve known this would happen. It was just one more thing in a string of screwups that had plagued his life the past few months. He knew that he should think of them as happy accidents, but he couldn’t help but feel trapped by his circumstances. This weather was no exception.

Ian never came to the mountains in January or February. The weather was always too unpredictable this time of year. Living at the top of a mountain was luxurious and the view was incredible, but you could only benefit from it if you could get up there. He wouldn’t be here now except that his fiancée, Missy, had insisted they take their engagement photos at the mountain house. Against his better judgment, he’d agreed.

Ian set his bag on the granite countertop and glanced out the bay window to the valley below him. It was a sea of white out there. At this rate, the few inches on the ground would easily reach half a foot or more. “No accumulation of note.” He snorted after mimicking what the man on the news had said last night. Missy had left from Atlanta, so maybe the weather was better from the south, but likely it wasn’t. He was pretty sure Missy wouldn’t be able to make it up the mountain in her little Jaguar.

And the photographer... Who knew what kind of car he or she would be driving. If this storm had surprised him, it had probably surprised everyone.

Thank goodness he’d had the cabin stocked with supplies. Ian walked around the kitchen, opening the cabinets and the refrigerator to inspect the contents. There was enough to feed them for several days, as requested. His caretakers were a married couple who lived down the hill. They kept the grounds tidy and the cabin clean and well maintained. Before he made a trip to the house, he would give Rick and Patty a list of food and supplies and they would see to it that everything was there.

Sometimes Patty would even do a little extra to welcome Ian home. Today there was a bottle of champagne chilling in the refrigerator door and a pair of flutes sitting on the counter by a vase of fresh flowers. Neither had been on his list, so that was Patty’s way of congratulating him and his new fiancée on their engagement.

She must have somehow missed the announcement that Missy was eight weeks pregnant. Missy had gushed about their newly forming family to anyone who would listen—from her two million Facebook fans to the journalist at some tabloid magazine. Ian didn’t think there was a person left in the United States who didn’t know about his personal business.

They would wed in March at a venue in Nashville that Missy had chosen. Ian had not been involved with the details. He had told himself, and Missy, that he was busy with work so she could plan whatever she liked. It was her big day, after all. The truth was that he was still coming to terms with all the new developments in his life. But he was hoping to turn that around.

He wanted this baby to be welcomed into a happy, loving family and he was willing to make the effort to turn that into a reality in the next seven months. It would take work on both their parts. Missy wasn’t the easiest woman to be with. She was demanding, spoiled and used to people constantly telling her how wonderful she was.

They weren’t a love match by any stretch of the imagination, but Ian was beginning to think love and the trappings that went with it were just a myth, anyway. Any marriage took work. Their situation might not be ideal, but she was going to have his baby and they were getting married.

He should make the most of a complicated situation. A romantic weekend together was just what they needed to stoke the fires. After all, plenty of men would love to marry Missy Kline. Her sultry voice and hard body had been a staple in Top 40 radio for the past few years. She was the star of Ian’s record label.

At least she had been. Her most recent record hadn’t done that well, but Missy wasn’t worried. She had the wedding and baby to keep her relevant. Her manager had arranged to sell the exclusive story and pictures from their wedding to some magazine. They were working on making their upcoming ceremony into some television special. It was going to be invasive, and Ian hated the idea of the whole thing, but Missy was pretty business savvy. They couldn’t pay for this kind of publicity. The day their engagement was announced and photos of her ring hit the gossip blogs, her latest song hit the top ten on iTunes. As her label, he couldn’t complain. As her fiancé, he wasn’t as thrilled.

This weekend they would take their engagement portraits and project the image of the happy power couple to the world. Then they would spend the next few days together trying to make it into a reality. A crackling fire, a stunning view, hot cocoa on the deck while snuggled under a blanket together... It would be a romantic music video come to life. He hoped.

Right now, he couldn’t guarantee that any of it was going to happen. Missy had said the snow would be romantic. He had no doubt she’d changed her mind by now.

Frowning, Ian walked to the front door, opened it and stepped out onto the front porch. The snow was sticking in earnest now, piling on the grass and creating a solid blanket across the road. You couldn’t even see the pavement. Or the layer of ice likely forming beneath it. In the South, it was rarely snow that was the problem. It was the ice that sent you skidding into ditches and sliding backward down hills.

As he watched the snow fall, a little white SUV rounded the corner and headed in his direction. His house was the last on the winding path, so once the car passed his closest neighbor he knew it had to be the photographer. If the photographer could make it from Nashville despite the weather, maybe Missy would make it in from Atlanta. At the very least, he knew the roads hadn’t closed yet.

The SUV pulled up by the steps to the front porch. Ian pasted on his smile, readying himself for a day of Academy Award–winning acting. He took careful steps down the stacked stone stairs to greet the photographer and help bring in any equipment.

A woman in a tight pair of jeans and a fitted turtleneck with a fleece jacket over it got out. She was dressed for a January day in Nashville, not the mountains. The snow had obviously been a surprise for her, too. She had no heavy coat, no gloves and no scarf, and her red Converse sneakers would offer about as much traction on ice as baby oil.

At least she had a hat. Her long blond hair peeked out beneath the knitted cap pulled down over her head. She was wearing wide, dark sunglasses, so he could see very little of her face, but for some reason, she seemed familiar to him.

The woman slammed her car door shut and slipped off her sunglasses. “Hi, Ian.”

In an instant, the face, the voice and the memories slammed together and socked him in the gut. It was Bree. Briana Harper. His freshman romance. The one who distracted him from his classes with her young, firm body and adventurous spirit. The one who dumped him at the lowest point in his life.

Ian swallowed the lump in his throat. “Bree? Wow. I had no idea you were, uh, that you would be...”

Bree winced and nodded. He could tell from the visible tension in her neck and shoulders that this was equally awkward for her. She was strung tight as a drum, and the familiarity of their past urged him to reach out and massage her neck the way he used to. But that was just nostalgia talking. He sincerely doubted touching Bree would help this situation.

“You didn’t know I was coming?”

“No, I...left all the details to Missy. She didn’t mention who the photographer would be.”

“I knew that I should’ve said something,” she began, “or given you some kind of warning in case you didn’t know, but I’d hoped not to make a big deal of it. My business partners didn’t know you and I were acquainted.”

Acquainted. That was one word for it. Touched every inch of each other’s bodies was another way to phrase it. Once the shock of her arrival faded, Ian let his curious gaze run over the rest of her once-familiar curves. There were more than he remembered, but they’d practically been kids then, still teenagers. Now she was a full-grown woman in a pair of jeans that looked painted-on.

“Is this going to be a problem for you?” she asked. “It’s not for me. I intend to keep this very professional. Your fiancée doesn’t even need to know we’ve met previously, if that’s what you prefer.”

“Yes, that’s probably for the best.” Although Missy claimed she had little competition, she was at the same time insanely jealous. She had made headlines for starting catfights in night clubs and industry parties. She’d snatched the extensions out of her supposed rival’s hair for just talking to her ex-boyfriend at a promoted event in Las Vegas.

Ian hadn’t given Missy any reason to be jealous, but he knew how easily that switch could flip in her. The last thing he needed was Missy throwing a fit about the photographer. They needed these pictures done and released to the magazine for the scheduled issue. They couldn’t wait for someone else to come up here and replace Bree.

That is, if anyone else could even make it up the mountain. The snow was falling faster than ever now. “We’d better get your things inside,” he suggested.

Bree nodded. When she turned to head toward the back of her car, her shoe skidded on the slick pavement. Her eyes widened and her arms shot out for something to steady her, but it was Ian’s lightning-fast reflexes that saved her. He reached out, his arms encircling her waist and tugging her up and against his body.

Ian instantly knew he’d made a mistake. The whole length of her was pressed into him. The scent of her favorite lotion mingled with the baby shampoo she’d always used. The familiar combination rushed to his nose, bringing back flashes of hot nights in his dorm room and in the back of his car. His entire body tensed, the cold unable to dampen the sudden arousal that being near Bree had so easily caused.

Bree clung to him, her ivory cheeks flushed pink from the cold and a hint of embarrassment. Her baby-blue eyes met his for a moment and the connection between them snapped like a current flowing freely through a copper wire. It had always been like this. Even minutes after he’d had her, he’d want her again. Back then, if she wasn’t in his arms, she was all he could think about.

He tore his gaze from hers, letting his eyes settle on the pink pucker of her mouth. That wasn’t much better. Her lips had been the softest, most welcoming lips he’d ever encountered, before college or since. Kissing Bree had been one of the divine pleasures of his life. Losing that had been almost as hard as losing his music.

That thought brought him back to reality. Ian steadied her on her feet and then disentangled himself from her before he did something stupid like kiss her. Bree reached a hand out for the side mirror of her car, taking a solid step back from him.

“Thank you,” she said, her cheeks now crimson. “That was really embarrassing.”

“That was nothing,” he said, more to himself than to her, but he followed it up. “Embarrassing would’ve been bruising your hind end on the driveway and getting your pants soaking wet and muddy.”

“True,” she said, looking around, apparently unwilling to meet his gaze again.

“Are your things in the trunk?” he asked.

“Yes.” Bree perked up, seemingly happy to focus on her work again. With one hand on her car she stepped cautiously to the back and opened the hatch on her Honda. She slung a green backpack over her shoulder and then pulled out a few black bags and a tripod.

Ian took as much as he could from her and escorted her up the stairs into the cabin. He let her focus on setting up her equipment and turned to his phone as a distraction. Hopefully reading a couple emails would help dull the raging arousal that still pumped through his veins and clouded his mind.

He hadn’t had a reaction to a woman like that since...He thought back and frowned. Since the last time he’d held Bree in his arms. Not even the belly-baring diva of his record label could match the need Bree built in him right now. He didn’t want that to be the case—life would be so much easier if things were reversed—but there was no denying it.

Missy would have a glass-breaking fit if she knew.

* * *

Bree focused on setting up her equipment even though she knew it was a pointless exercise. An hour had gone by without any sign of his fiancée. If she didn’t show up in the next half hour, the odds were that she wasn’t coming. One glance out the window made it perfectly obvious that the drive in would be next to impossible.

She had barely made it up the mountainside herself. Her tires had spun a time or two, lodging her heart in her throat. But that was nothing, nothing compared to the collision she’d just had with Ian.

It had been nine years since they’d been together. She should be over him by now. Long over him. Yet, when she was pressed against the hard wall of his chest and staring up into the dark green eyes she’d once lost herself in, the years apart seemed to vanish in an instant. All the reasons she walked away, all the heartache and the doubts, gone.

She thought he felt it, too. For a moment, she sensed a connection between them. An instant of attraction and longing had flickered in his eyes, a soft smile curling his lips. And then he’d looked away. A hard glint had shone in his eyes as he gently pushed her out of his arms.

And just as quickly, she’d realized she was a fool.

She hadn’t been able to get to her equipment fast enough. Bree needed the safety and security of her camera. It was like a barrier between her and the world. As long as she only looked at Ian through the lens, she would be okay.

At least that’s what she told herself.

That didn’t keep her from sneaking peeks of Ian now as she worked. As much as she tried to focus, her gaze would lift and she would take in a few seconds of his broad shoulders clad in black cashmere. His strong hands gripping his cell phone and typing madly at his laptop computer. The firm curve of his rear, highlighted by the custom fit of his gray wool pants...

Groaning, Bree focused her attention back on her equipment. The work is what would get her through this. It was just stupid, misplaced attraction mixed with nostalgia and jealousy. It wasn’t like things between them had ended well. There were plenty of good reasons why they didn’t work as a couple, and she had broken up with him. No sense in pining for something she had given up.

Not that it had been much to give up near the end. During the last two months of their relationship, Ian had completely changed as a person. Part of what had initially attracted Bree to Ian was that he was as different from her father as a man could get.

Doug Harper was a certified workaholic. He was successful and driven, spending nearly every waking hour of his life managing his construction company. He’d helped build half of Nashville and had made a fortune doing it. Her mother had filled the empty hours by traveling around the world and spending her husband’s earnings. That had left Bree alone at home with the housekeeper each night.

It had been a miserably lonely existence she didn’t intend to repeat as an adult. She’d always told herself she wanted a man who came home at night. One who was more interested in living than working. Who would put more importance on family and love than money and business. A soulful musician fit the bill nicely.

Ian had been everything she wanted and he’d really had a shot of doing well with his music. Until he’d stopped playing music and dropped out of school to work at a record company. Suddenly, he’d always been working.

It seemed like overnight she had lost her musician and in his place stood a clone of her dad. It had broken her heart to watch it happen, but in the end, things had turned out for the best. Ian had become extremely successful and was marrying his pop star. She had a career she was proud of and hopefully would one day find the perfect person for her, too. The photo session shouldn’t be awkward at all. At all.

So why did she have butterflies fluttering in her stomach?

Her thoughts were interrupted by Ian’s voice. He was talking loudly to someone on the phone. He didn’t sound happy, but she was relieved to hear it was the weather and Missy’s tardiness that concerned him. For a moment, she’d thought he might ring up Natalie and demand another photographer. That would be so embarrassing. She couldn’t go back to Nashville and face her friends after something like that.

“What?” Ian’s sharp voice cut through the cabin, echoing in the large open space of the living room where she was unpacking. “Are you sure? No. No, of course I don’t blame you. I want you and the baby to be safe. That’s the most important thing. We can reschedule.”

Bree froze, waiting to hear the rest of the story. She was thankful she’d opted to have Amelia book her a hotel room nearby. Making it back to Nashville in this weather was a dangerous prospect. She glanced out the large bay window that looked over the valley below. She couldn’t see anything but white. No cars, no roads, no trees. Just white.

A loud curse followed by a hollow thunk startled her. She straightened up and turned back toward the kitchen. Ian blew through the archway a moment later, his jaw tight and the edges of his ears red with anger. He looked at Bree, about to speak, then he stopped himself. He shoved his hands into his pockets and took a deep breath. “She’s not coming.”

Bree had gathered that much. “What happened?”

“The roads are all closed unless you have snow chains and even then, some roads are impassable. Missy was coming from Atlanta. She made it as far as Maryville, but then they started sending cars back. There’s no way to get here.” He shook his head. “I should’ve waited to do this until we could drive up together.”

Bree bit her lip, not quite sure what to say to that. “I guess we can reschedule the session in Nashville, if that’s easier.”

He nodded, his gaze dropping to the polished wooden floors. “That’s probably the best plan.”

Bree nodded. There was a confusing pang of emotions in her stomach as she turned back to her equipment to pack up.

She was relieved that she didn’t have to face his beautiful and successful fiancée today. She didn’t really feel like snapping pictures while they posed together intimately and smiled at her camera. She’d dodged the bullet. When she got back to Nashville, she needed to confess the truth to Natalie. It was probably for the best that someone else handle their engagement portraits and maybe the wedding itself. There was being a professional and there was being a masochist. She recognized the difference now.

At the same time, she didn’t want to leave. Walking out the door meant she might never see Ian again. When he’d held her outside, she’d felt a heat in her belly that hadn’t burned that strongly in a long time. She wanted him to hold her again. To kiss her the way she hadn’t been kissed in years.

She groaned inwardly and zipped her bag. Maybe she was a masochist. She was fantasizing about her ex. Her engaged, soon-to-be-a-daddy ex. The ex she’d broken up with because she couldn’t take the sudden change in everything about him. Overnight, he’d gone from a music major to a record label toadie working eighty hours a week. Bree was certain none of that had changed. He ran a successful record label. Just because he took a weekend off to pose for engagement pictures didn’t mean he was cured of his affliction.

Bree stood up and slung her camera bag over her shoulder. She was about to grab another bag when she heard a loud knock at the door.

Ian looked at her and frowned before turning, walking over and opening the front door. An older man in a heavy jacket and cap was standing there.

Bree couldn’t hear their conversation so she moved closer.

“I’ve been walking around to all the cabins in the subdivision while I can. Everything’s shut down. During Superstorm Sandy we got a bunch of snow and it took a few days before they could get the roads cleared. They can’t really start, though, until the snow stops falling. There’s already ten inches on the ground and they’re expecting upward of another fifteen or so before it’s done. I’ve lived here twenty years and I haven’t seen it fall this hard and fast.”

“So we’re stuck here, Rick?”

The older man nodded. “For a few days at least. That incline is too dangerous for the plows. Patty stocked the kitchen and I added half a cord of firewood to the pile. It should keep you until it’s safe to head back to Nashville.”

Bree heard the man’s words, but part of her didn’t quite process it at first. It wasn’t until Ian closed the door and turned to look at her with an expression of pure agony that it clicked. It wasn’t as simple as Missy not being able to get here. They also couldn’t leave. They couldn’t even get down the mountain so she could sleep in her reserved hotel room.

Bree immediately reached for the remote control and turned the television to the weather station. Hopefully the National Weather Service knew better than the caretaker. The map of the country finally came up and the woman in the nice suit pointed out the weather trouble spots. When she got to the Smoky Mountains, Bree gasped.

“...An unexpected barrage of snow in the area after two smaller storm cells merged into the newly dubbed Winter Storm Shana. Blizzard-like conditions are expected overnight with up to forty inches of snow. Roads are closed and the highway patrol is asking people to stay in their homes. Do not try to travel as emergency crews are having difficulty getting to distress calls.”

At that, Bree’s knees gave out and she plopped down into the armchair behind her. She was stuck here. With Ian. For an undetermined amount of time.

And Ian looked anything but pleased about it.


Two (#u52d49405-c80c-5896-870f-0623bcc3b8db)

Days. Days! Trapped in this house with Briana Harper. What, exactly, had he done to deserve this? He must have done something because if the past few months weren’t karma coming back to bite him, he didn’t know what it was.

Ian scowled at his phone as appointment change notice after appointment change notice came through. After finding out they were snowed in, he’d called his administrative assistant and asked her to clear his calendar through Tuesday, just in case. Each meeting on his packed schedule generated another email as it shifted ahead into an already overcrowded week.

On the plus side, he had his laptop and cell phone, and the cabin had DSL internet service, so the wheels of progress could still spin to a point. He might be stuck here with Bree, but it was a big house and he was a busy man. Certainly with three stories and twelve different rooms to choose from, they wouldn’t have to cross paths very often.

He leaned to the side on his stool to peek into the living room. Bree was camped out there with her own computer and equipment. She’d been on the phone on and off, too. He’d tried not to listen, but it was hard not to. She’d called a woman named Natalie, then Amelia. The talk had been all about work and covering the weekend wedding festivities, but a part of him kept waiting to hear his own name.

Bree had mentioned that she’d kept their past together a secret, but surely now that she was trapped here with him, that information would be shared with her coworkers. In the scheme of things, it seemed noteworthy. Unless, of course, he was as distant a memory in her mind as his music was in his own. If that was the case, good for her. He hadn’t been as lucky. Thoughts of Bree still plagued him, angered him. He’d be happier now if he could’ve forgotten about her. Sometimes the intricacies of his work would push the thoughts away, but a quiet moment always brought them screaming back into his head.

She’d called her mother and left a message so she wouldn’t worry. One call she didn’t make, however, was to a boyfriend or spouse. He’d thought for sure that a man would’ve met Bree’s requirements by now. There were plenty of hopeful artists in the world for her to choose from. Or maybe she’d grown up and realized that it wasn’t practical for an adult who needed to support a family. Not that he was bitter.

Finally, she’d called a lady named Julia at the Whitman Gallery and said she’d have to reschedule her final appointment before the showing.

Ian had been to the Whitman Gallery on several occasions. They did a lot of special art showings and liked to feature local Nashville artists. Perhaps Bree was planning a show there. That would be a big step for her photography. Back in school she’d been big on nature and architectural photography. She took snapshots of people but almost never posed portraits. She’d told him once that she liked to capture genuine moments.

How things had changed! His engagement portraits were about as disingenuous as moments could come. But as he well understood, sometimes art had to give way to paying the bills, and wedding photography was a high-dollar business. The wedding industry as a whole was a racket. The paperwork Missy had brought home after she’d reserved the venue and put down the deposit nearly made him choke. The floral bill alone was running him nearly six figures.

Bree stood up and Ian quickly shifted his gaze back to his computer screen. He tried not to give her much notice as she came into the kitchen and opened the pantry doors. She pulled out a bag of coffee. “It’s freezing in that big room. Do you mind if I make a pot of coffee? Will you drink some?”

“That’s a good idea. I’ll drink it.” The thermos he’d demolished on the drive up here had burned off a long time ago.

Bree filled the coffeepot and went about setting the controls and adding grounds to the filter. “When it’s cold like this, I need something warm to drink.”

“I think we’ll be drinking a lot of coffee, then.”

“I noticed some decaffeinated herbal tea in the pantry, too. I’ll probably switch to that in the evenings. Otherwise I’ll be up all night.”

Ian’s brain instantly went to the nights he had kept her up without the assistance of caffeine. How many times had he missed his 8:00 a.m. English lecture because he’d lost track of time in Bree’s arms?

His eyes focused in on the curious expression on Bree’s face. “What?” he asked.

“I asked if you take cream and sugar,” she said with a smile.

“Yeah, two sugars. I like it sweet.”

Bree got down the mugs and turned to him while she waited for the coffee to finish brewing. “Still got a sweet tooth, huh?”

He nodded, remembering all the junk he used to eat back in college. Like any college student, he’d consumed his fair share of pizza and Chinese food, but more often than not, he could be found with a candy bar, a cookie or a can of soda in his hand. Sometimes a combination of the three. “This machine runs on sugar and caffeine most of the time. I have tried to scale back a little. I have a one-candy-bar-a-day limit my assistant enforces by keeping snacks in a locked drawer in her desk.”

The warm scent of hazelnut coffee filled the air. Bree turned to pour two cups and doctored them appropriately. She set a mug down next to his laptop and crawled onto the barstool at the opposite side of the kitchen island.

“I guess I always envisioned you marrying a pastry chef. Or a chocolatier. I’m going to take a wild guess and say that Missy doesn’t bake.”

“Lord, no.” Ian chuckled. “I don’t think Missy has so much as turned on an oven in her entire life. She was singing on mall tours at fourteen and was an opening act for a world tour at seventeen. I signed her with SpinTrax when she was twenty. She knows how to work an audience, but that’s about it.”

Bree took a sip of her coffee. “I suppose she doesn’t eat that stuff, either.”

“Missy doesn’t eat much of anything.”

Food was a constant point of contention in their relationship. Missy’s personal trainer had convinced her that greens and fish were all she needed. Anything else and she’d blow up like a pop star has-been. When she’d announced her pregnancy, he’d expected her to add some foods back into her repertoire, but the opposite happened. Since she knew there were certain kinds of fish she couldn’t eat, she’d gone fully vegetarian instead of taking the time to figure out what she could and couldn’t have. She insisted that was why her belly was still as flat as it was on her last album cover. He wasn’t sure how well she was going to take it when she hit the third trimester and even a strict diet wouldn’t keep her from putting on a few pounds.

“I guess I’ll never be a rock star, then. I like food too much,” Bree said with a smile. “Of course, I’ve got the junk in the trunk to show for it.”

One of Ian’s eyebrows shot up. He’d tried not to look, but he’d noted Bree’s trunk was nicely full. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, trying to sound sincere without seeming too interested in her body. “You look great.”

Bree smiled, a blush rising to her cheeks. She tucked a stray strand of blond hair behind her ears. “Thanks, but we both know this isn’t the same body I had back in college.”

“Thank goodness. I don’t think I was skilled enough to handle curves that dangerous back in school.”

Bree wrinkled her nose. “Were you always this big a flatterer?”

“I think so. I just did it with a song then. Now I have to be more direct. I don’t have time to beat around the bush.”

Bree’s bright blue gaze met his for a moment, and he felt the familiar heat rush through his veins once again. What was he doing flirting with Bree? He was engaged. He was going to be a father. He needed to focus on his relationship with Missy, not his past with Bree. How could he forget the fact that Bree had kicked him when he was down? That she had offered him the closest thing to a real relationship he’d ever had, then snatched it away?

Ian needed more space between them if he was going to get through the next few days. He couldn’t decide if he wanted to kiss her or give her a piece of his mind. Neither was helpful. He remembered the feeling from school. She knew just how to push all his buttons and make him unsteady on his feet. Back then, it had brought on a rush of excitement. Now, it just frustrated him.

He had to give Missy credit in that department. He knew exactly where he stood with her: she was using him to salvage her career. There was no great love between them, at least when the cameras were off. It wasn’t where he envisioned he would be with the mother of his child, but at least he understood the terms of the relationship. Bree was a wild card.

He looked back to his computer screen and closed his laptop. “I, uh, guess I’d better give you the tour so you can get settled in.”

Bree slid down from the stool, carrying her mug with her as she followed him into the living room.

“This is the main floor. My bedroom is over there under the stairs.” He gestured up to the loft overhead, then they headed up the steps. “You’ll see there are two bedrooms and baths up here, and two more bedrooms and baths on the lower level. If I were you, I’d sleep up here, though. Because of the vaulted ceilings, upstairs stays a little warmer.”

He led Bree back to the main level, past his bedroom door and down the staircase. At the bottom of the stairs was a spacious room with a big-screen television, a poker table, a pool table and a stone fireplace. “This is the game room. There’s also a hot tub out that door on the deck.”

He watched Bree roam around his vacation home, taking in every detail. She investigated both bedrooms, and then she looked out onto the deck. The direction of the snow was blowing such that it wasn’t piling on the patio at all. That meant the front of the house would be waist-high in drifts by morning.

“This is really a beautiful place you have, Ian.” Bree turned her back to the window and looked at him. “Do you get to spend much time here?”

Of course not. She had to have known the answer to that question before she asked it. It had been months since he’d last been here. Mid-September. Before his moment of weakness with Missy derailed his life. “Not as often as I’d like,” he answered instead. “My mother and stepfather come up here from time to time. So does my stepbrother and his wife and kids.”

“So your mom ended up marrying Ned?”

Ian’s father had split nearly the moment he’d been conceived. When he was in high school, his mother had started a fairly serious relationship with Ned. Ned had one son of his own, a few years younger than Ian. “Yeah, they got engaged not long after you...” His voice trailed off. He was about to say “not long after you dumped me,” but they were stuck here together. There wasn’t much point in antagonizing one another, at least on the first day.

Bree’s mouth tightened a bit, knowing what he’d been about to say. After a moment, she pasted back on her cheery smile. “How is everyone doing? I think about your family sometimes and wonder what they’re up to.”

Did that mean she thought about him, too? Ian knew he shouldn’t care, but a part of him wondered. She’d certainly been on his mind over the years. Sometimes he was angry and bitter. Most times he just felt disappointed.

“Ned is getting ready to retire and my mother is trying to figure out what she’ll do when she has to look at him all day. His son, Jay, and his wife just had their second child. They’re all great. I actually haven’t seen them in a while. Work has been pretty hectic.”

Bree nodded and turned back toward the stairs. “You sound like my dad.”

Ian noted the flat tone of displeasure in her voice. Bree and her father still had their issues, he could see. The man had been chained to his desk twenty hours a day when they were in college, and he blamed Mr. Harper in part for their relationship’s demise. “How are your parents?” he asked.

Bree reached the top of the stairs and turned back to look at him. “Dad’s recovering from bypass surgery after his second heart attack in five years.”

Ian felt his own chest tighten in response. Bree had accused him of turning into a workhorse like her father. He tried not to work longer than eighteen-hour days, but that probably wasn’t enough of a distinction in her eyes. Or the eyes of a cardiologist. “Is he okay?”

“Yes. He’s too driven to die. But the doctors want him to scale back his hours and pass the running of the company on to his partner. That—” she laughed “—might actually kill him. That and the diet his doctors tried to put him on.”

Ian nervously pulled at the suddenly tight collar of his sweater. He imagined the candy, coffee and liquor he consistently consumed was not on the doctor’s recommended eating plan. “I’m glad he’s doing okay. Is he back to work yet?”

“Yes,” Bree said. “He returned to the office the day his doctor released him, although I suspect he’d been sneaking in some and checking his email from home. My mother divorced him last year, and he said it was hard for him to sit at home alone with the housekeeper. I find that kind of ironic considering that’s how I’d spent most of my time. But his business is important to him. He’s already sacrificed his family and his health for his job. It’d be a shame to lose his company, too. It’s all he has left. You’d be wise to learn from his mistakes.”

* * *

Bree had no idea why she’d said that last part, but the words left her mouth before she could stop them. It wasn’t helpful. Or polite. Or any of her damned business. But a part of her just had to do it. If he was going to start a family, he should know what the price of his workaholic lifestyle would be. He should know what it would be like for his child.

Ian frowned at her and put his mug down on the side table. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Bree took a deep breath and shrugged. “You know what kind of hours you keep, Ian. They’re probably worse than they were back in school when you forgot my birthday and left me alone night after night.”

Ian widened his stance and crossed his arms over his chest. “Are you still mad that I missed your birthday? I apologized twenty times.”

“So did my dad, Ian. He apologized and bought me something expensive to make up for it, just to do it again. That’s the point. You can work yourself to death, like my dad does. That’s his choice. That’s your choice now. But not when you have a family. Things are about to change for you. You can’t work as hard as you do when you have a child at home who doesn’t understand why you’re never there.”

“Since when do you know anything about me and what I do, Bree? You walked out of my life nine years ago.”

That was an interesting way to look at how their relationship had ended. Her interpretation of the past was quite different. Bree planted her hands on her hips and prepared for battle. The minute she’d found out she was coming up here, she’d worried this moment might come. The presence of his fiancée would’ve kept the old feelings and hot tempers in check, but stuck alone? It was time to have the fight they’d never really had.

“How long did it take you to notice I was gone? A week? Two weeks?”

Ian clenched his jaw, fighting to hold back words he’d obviously suppressed all this time. “I noticed, Bree. I noticed that the woman I thought loved me just turned her back on me when I was at one of the lowest points in my life.”

Bree scoffed at his cold assessment of her actions. “I didn’t turn my back on you. You’re the one who made this huge lifestyle shift and shut me out. Suddenly, you were all about working at that record company and you had no time for me anymore. You missed my birthday. You stood me up for that dance. You left me sitting alone at a restaurant waiting for you, twice. I did you a favor by easing your guilty conscience. You didn’t have to feel bad about ignoring me if I was already gone.”

“Thanks so much. I’m sure you were only thinking of me when you walked away. I made that huge ‘lifestyle shift’ because I was struggling to find my place in the world, Bree. You never realized how lucky you were. You were a talented photographer and you knew that your work could become a successful career for you. I had to face the ugly truth that my music wasn’t good enough. I wasn’t good enough. Do you know how much it hurt when my advisor told me that?”

Bree snuggled deeper into her fleece jacket, trying to disappear. She had assumed that time was hard on him, but he’d never talked about it. He had been like a steam locomotive that switched onto another track—he’d just kept on going. He’d started working at the record label, dropped out of school and charged ahead at full speed.

“How could I know anything, Ian, when you wouldn’t talk to me about it? You never talked about anything important with me. You never shared your feelings. You saved it all for your songs. And when you lost that, you just clammed up and worked even harder.”

She saw a touch of the anger ease out of his posture. His tense shoulders relaxed and his jaw unclenched. Ian shook his head sadly. “I never intended to shut you out, Bree. I just didn’t know how to talk to you about it. I didn’t know how to handle everything that was happening.”

“I felt like I was losing you, little by little, like sand slipping through my fingers. At first I thought that job at the record label would help, but it just took over your life. You dropped out of school, moved off campus and wouldn’t return my calls. What was left of the Ian I’d loved vanished. You were distracted, dismissive... I felt like I didn’t matter to you anymore.”

Ian ran his hand through the short, dark strands of his hair, the pain of that time in his life suddenly fresh in his eyes again. “Yeah,” he admitted, “I threw myself into that job. But I was trying to find something I could do with my life. My dream of being a musician was dead, but at least working at that label let me keep my connection to the music industry.

“It’s not an easy business, you know. Yeah, I worked long hours, but that’s what they demanded. One of my professors got that gig for me. I couldn’t disappoint him, especially when there was a line of other kids just waiting for me to screw up so they could take my place. So I fought for it. I put every ounce of energy that had once gone into my music into this work instead. And I succeeded. I climbed the ladder. I went out on my own and started my own label at twenty-five.”

“You should be very proud of yourself.”

Ian shrugged. “I guess. It wasn’t an easy road, but I did it. It sure would’ve been a hell of a lot easier with you by my side.”

“I know you think that, but it’s probably not true. I would’ve been a distraction. You never would’ve gotten where you are now with a relationship making demands on your time. Besides,” she said cheerfully, “things worked out for the best, right? You have your company, your fiancée, a baby on the way... Life turned out the way it was meant to.”

Ian narrowed his green gaze and took a step toward her. “Do you honestly believe that? You haven’t regretted the way things ended between us?”

Bree frowned and took a slight step backward, feeling her shoulder blades meet with one of the rustic wooden columns that supported the loft. “Of course I mean it. I mean, breakups happen and they’re sometimes ugly, but you’re happy with your life now, right?”

“If you believe what you read in the magazines, I guess so. I know I should be. I’m marrying one of the sexiest women on Earth. We’re going to have a beautiful baby. My business is better than ever.”

Bree’s eyes focused on the slight downturn of his mouth as he spoke. He wasn’t happy. Not at all. And she hated that. No matter what had happened between them, she wanted to see Ian happy. “So what’s the problem?” she asked.

He took another step toward her, his height towering over her as he came nearer. “The problem?” A bitter chuckle escaped his lips. “Well, first, I’m not in love with Missy. Hell, I’m not even attracted to her. It’s a long, sordid story I won’t bore you with, but the punch line is that she’s selfish and spoiled and doesn’t give a damn about me unless there’s a camera nearby. Second, she’s the worst possible woman I could’ve chosen to start a family with. I’m already interviewing nannies because I know that’s the person who’s going to raise our child.”

Ian leaned in, planting his palm on the polished wooden post over her head. “And to make matters worse, on top of all that, I find myself here. Trapped in a cabin with you. A woman who did love me once. One who would’ve made an excellent wife and mother. One who had the power to set my blood boiling with just a touch.”

Bree drew in a ragged breath as Ian’s hand brushed over her forehead and moved a strand of her hair from her face. Her entire body was tense, her stomach knotting tighter with every word he spoke.

“One who still has the power to make my entire body ache with the memory of making love to her,” he whispered.

His gaze was focused on her lips as he spoke. He ran his fingers along her cheek and Bree’s eyes instantly fluttered closed to savor the touch. The warm heat of his caress against her skin made her pulse pound harder than it had in a very long time. She took a deep breath and forced her eyes back open in time for his thumb to graze gently across her lips.

Was he about to kiss her? It would be wrong. So wrong. Yet, in that moment it was all she could think of. All she wanted.

“And I can’t do a damn thing about it.” He pulled away, taking several steps back as though her touch had nearly burned him.

Bree felt her knees weaken beneath her once he pulled away. It was as if he had yanked the rug out from under her. She righted herself and fidgeted, tugging anxiously at her pullover and tossing her hair over her shoulder.

What the hell was she thinking? She had very nearly melted into the arms of another woman’s fiancée. She was their wedding photographer! Past or no past, that was all kinds of wrong. Natalie would kill her if she knew.

Bree took a deep breath and pulled herself together. Reacting to Ian didn’t help either of them. “I’m sorry to hear your relationship is less than ideal,” she said in her most formal, detached voice.

Ian’s gaze ran over her face for a moment before he spoke. “Yeah. Me, too,” he said, turning on his heel and disappearing into the other room.


Three (#ulink_be370607-6638-5326-94df-103a2f0323a2)

“Gretchen, I’ve made a big mistake.”

Bree had made a quick getaway to her bedroom after her encounter with Ian. She’d needed some personal space to clear her head and purge her lungs of his scent. She’d hauled her bags up the stairs and selected the room with a wall of windows overlooking the valley below. The queen-size four-poster bed had a gray velvet brocade comforter and navy silk curtains to enclose the bed if she chose.

That wasn’t a bad idea. The room was luxurious and spacious. Perhaps she should just wrap herself up in a silk cocoon and stay here until the snow melted. She could forage for food in the night while Ian slept and maybe squirrel away a box of crackers or something to keep up here. Maybe then they could stop antagonizing each other.

After closing the door, she’d grabbed her phone and dialed one of her friends and business partners, Gretchen. Natalie would be horrified by the entire situation. Amelia would want to talk about Bree’s feelings. But she just wanted to vent to someone who would listen, then tell her to put on her big-girl panties. That was Gretchen—their calligrapher, invitation and program designer and wedding day jack-of-all-trades.

“I hear you’re snowed into a million-dollar mountain house. I really feel bad for you.”

That was one way of looking at it, but it was getting harder and harder to remember that fact. The house was beautiful; every inch was filled with expensive furniture, detailed stone craftsmanship and state-of-the-art electronics. Her bedroom was nicer than some five-star hotels. “Did Amelia leave out the part where I’m stuck alone with the groom?”

“No, she mentioned that. Why does it matter? Is he creepy? Or a jerk?”

Bree hesitated. “No, he isn’t creepy. But he is my...uh...ex from college.”

“What?” Gretchen’s sharp voice nearly climbed through the phone to smack her upside the head.

“Shh!” Bree insisted. She had no doubt that Gretchen was in the office and she didn’t need her shouting to draw the others. “No one can know, okay? Especially not Natalie. She’ll flip out.”

“It sounds like you’re flipping out. Is that what the thing Monday was about? Why you were so interested in the Missy Kline wedding?”

Bree frowned. “Maybe. It caught me off guard to find out he was getting married. And to her, of all people.”

“So now you two are trapped together. What’s going on that you’re not telling me? You sound really wound up. The guy is getting married. And to Missy Kline! There shouldn’t be an issue, even with your past together. Wait...you haven’t tempted him away with your worn-out Converse and your messy ponytail, have you?”

“You hush,” Bree snapped. She felt bad enough comparing herself to Missy; she didn’t need Gretchen’s help. “It’s a proximity problem. We didn’t exactly part well and being together after all this time...”

“Don’t pick at the scabs, Bree.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know what happened between you two, but considering I’ve known you for eight years and have never heard of you dating this guy, I figure you’re picking at an old wound that should’ve healed a long time ago. You need to leave it alone or you’ll reopen it. That’s not the best idea when you’re trapped in a house together. What good will it do to stir all that stuff up again, anyway?”

She was right. Nothing Bree said or did this weekend was going to change anything. When the snow melted, she would drive back to Nashville and resume her work. Ian would do the same. He might not be rushing home to reunite with the love of his life, but he would still go home to Missy and the baby. She had no doubt of that.

In college it had taken months to get Ian to open up to her about his family. He hadn’t been much for talking about his personal life. It had been easier for him to communicate through song lyrics, but that had left no room for questions. That was probably how he’d liked it. But eventually, Bree had worn him down. He’d told her about how his father had bailed when his mother got pregnant. As he spoke she’d seen a haunting look of rejection in his eyes that Bree would never forget. Even though it really had nothing to do with him, he’d said he thought, deep inside, he wasn’t good enough for his father to want to stay.

His college advisor echoing the same sentiment about Ian’s musical abilities had been like a knife to his soft underbelly. He’d been defenseless to the attack and when it had come down to it, Ian had believed the man’s words because he’d believed he wasn’t good enough. Nothing Bree could say or do would’ve changed nearly twenty years of feeling inferior.

And nothing that happened this weekend would change the course Ian was on. He wouldn’t do the same thing to his own child, even when the thought of being with Missy made him frustrated and desperate.

“It will do no good whatsoever,” Bree answered Gretchen.

“Then steer your ship like you’re in iceberg-filled waters. Stay diligent, keep your eyes open and avoid a collision. Eventually, you’ll make it to port in one piece.”

“Yeah,” Bree said, her voice not sounding particularly confident.

Gretchen sighed. “Are you still attracted to him?”

The pointed question instantly flustered Bree. “What? Attracted? I mean, no, but then again, he’s still... Yes,” she spat out at last. “Because I’m an idiot.”

She was still attracted to him. And she shouldn’t be. It was so ridiculous. Her libido had flamed on like the Human Torch the minute she’d laid eyes on him again. The same libido that had been mostly ho-hum for the men she’d dated over the years. It was incredibly frustrating to find her body betraying her, especially over someone so unobtainable.

It was like her body remembered him. Nine years had done little to erase the claim he’d left on her. Just one touch and she was nearly putty in his hands again. Begging him to kiss her with pouty lips. Ignoring the fiancée unable to make it up the mountain...

“You’re not an idiot. You just need to get laid.”

Bree nearly choked. “Pardon?”

“You’ve just been working too hard with the gallery showing and all those post-Christmas engagement photo sessions. No time to play. And you haven’t mentioned going on a date in forever. Maybe you should look into doing some online dating. It could help take the edge off.”

That wasn’t an entirely bad idea. Walking into Ian’s house after months of celibacy had left her at a distinct disadvantage.

“Maybe you’re right. If I keep my head down, I can make it through this.” Even as she said the words, she didn’t really believe them. She was a mess and it had only been... Bree looked down at her watch. Six hours. Only six hours with Ian had put her every nerve on edge. What would a few days do?

“Just remember,” Gretchen said in a tone mocking the ever-proper Natalie, “keep it professional and keep it classy.”

“Yeah.” Bree snorted with contempt. “I’ll do that. I’ll call you later.” She hung up and flopped back onto the bed. She closed her eyes, startling herself when the image of Ian hovering over her, midthrust, popped into her mind.

She shot up with a start. That settled it. She was going to lock herself in the bedroom. Bree pulled a book from her bag and set it by the bed. Investigating the large, marble, brass and glass tile bathroom, she decided that tonight she would crawl into her large whirlpool tub for a long, hot soak and read a book. She always lost herself in stories, so it would be an excellent distraction from Ian.

A disgruntled rumble sounded from Bree’s belly.

So much for locking herself in the bedroom. She’d been up here a half hour and the rumblings of hunger pangs had already begun. She’d stopped for a quick bite on the road to follow up the granola bar she’d scarfed down before she left her apartment, but that had burned off. She could distract herself by unpacking her things and assembling her toiletries in the bathroom, but that would buy her minutes, not hours.

She needed to eat. And more important, she needed to desensitize herself to Ian. Perhaps the more they were together, the easier it would be. Either way, she couldn’t ignore the inevitable. Eventually, Bree would have to go back downstairs and face him.

* * *

“Okay, I’m officially starving.”

Ian looked up from his laptop to see Bree in the kitchen, searching the cabinets. He’d spent an hour or so staying as far as possible from her and focusing on work. After what had happened this afternoon, that seemed like the best idea. He wasn’t entirely sure what had gotten into him. He’d been angry with Bree only moments before, and then suddenly, he had needed to touch her.

Relationships weren’t exactly Ian’s strong suit. He’d actually had very few that he’d even characterize as “relationships.” He’d only been in love once, with Bree, and that whole thing had bitten him in the ass. From then on, dating had taken a backseat to work, and emotions usually had no role in the process. But he’d never been unfaithful to a woman. That just wasn’t in his blood. Besides, he was usually too busy with work to make one woman happy, much less two or three.

But here, now, for the first time, he was tempted. So tempted. How many times over the years had his thoughts strayed to Bree and where she was and what she was doing? And then to have her practically dropped into his lap by a weird twist of fate and weather...

Time had been good to Bree. He watched as she opened every single cabinet door, making thoughtful sounds as she moved around the gourmet, U-shaped kitchen. She was just as beautiful as he remembered, giving Missy a run for her money—and without three hours in the hair and makeup chairs to get there. She still had long honey-gold hair, which at some point today she’d pulled it into a messy knot at the back of her head. Her baby-blue eyes were just as bright. The freckles across her nose had faded, but she still had the same charming smile.

She looked almost exactly the way she had when she’d been his. It was hard for his brain and his body to recognize that was no longer the case. When his fingertips had brushed across her pink lips, they’d parted seductively, nearly begging him to kiss her. And he’d wanted to. Man, he’d wanted to.

Which was why he’d walked away. Why he had to stay away from Bree Harper.

Shaking away the unproductive thoughts, he looked down at his watch. It was after five. Food was probably a good idea. Bree had ended her quest at the refrigerator.

“Champagne, strawberries, spinach, brie...fancy stuff. Perfect if you’re having acquaintances over for a wine soiree.” Her blond head popped up over the door to look at him. “You don’t happen to have makings for a cheeseburger tucked away in here, do you?”

He shook his head. “No, sorry. Missy doesn’t eat red meat and she says that since she got pregnant, watching me eat it makes her ill.”

Bree’s lips twisted in thought. She eyeballed a loaf of sourdough bread on the counter and looked back inside the refrigerator. “How about grilled cheese and tomato soup?”

Ian’s brow went up with curiosity. “Are you offering to cook us dinner?” The Bree he knew from college wasn’t much of a culinary wizard. Of course, living in a dorm didn’t exactly lend itself to cooking.

She shrugged, tossing a block of gruyere onto the counter. “One of us has to do it unless you have a personal chef hidden away somewhere.”

“No.” He chuckled. “I like to keep things more casual here, so I don’t keep any staff.”

“You have staff at home?” she asked while slicing the cheese on a wooden cutting board.

“I just have Winnie. She’s... Well...I pretty much pay her to be my wife.”

At that, the cutting stopped and Bree looked up. “Care to clarify that?”

“She takes care of everything at home so I can focus on work. Winnie cleans the house and does the grocery shopping. She cooks. She does my laundry and picks up my dry cleaning. Winnie pretty much does everything a wife who works in the home would do. I don’t know how I’d survive without her.”

Bree retrieved a skillet and a pot from the cabinet and put them on the blue flames of the stove. “Sounds handy.”

“She is. I’m going to miss her when Missy moves in.”

“Why is she leaving?”

That was a damn good question. “Missy is...particular. She has her own staff, which includes a housekeeper, a chef, a personal trainer and a personal assistant. She insisted there was no need to keep Winnie on when she moved in with her entourage. Once we add the nanny, that’s just way too many people, although I hate to do it. I’m giving Winnie a huge severance package and I’m trying to find a new position for her.”





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