Let It Snow, page 5
Slade located a saw, and Shelly eyed him warily.
“What’s wrong now?”
“The saw.”
“What’s the matter with it?” He tested the sharpness by carefully running his thumb over the jagged teeth and raised questioning eyes to her.
“Nothing. If we use that rusty old thing, we shouldn’t have any trouble bringing home a good-sized rhododendron.”
“I wasn’t planning to mow down a California redwood.”
“But I want something a bit larger than a poinsettia.”
Slade paused and followed her outside the barn. “Are you always this difficult to get along with?”
Jerking the sled along behind her in the snow, Shelly shouted, “There’s nothing wrong with me. It’s you.”
“Right,” he growled.
Shelly realized that she was acting like a shrew, but her behavior was a defense mechanism against the attraction she felt for Slade. If he was irritated with her, it would be easier to hold back her feelings for him.
“If my presence is such an annoyance to you, I can walk into town.”
“Don’t be silly.”
“She shouts at me about cutting down rhododendrons and I’m silly.” He appeared to be speaking to the sky.
Plowing through the snow, Shelly refused to look back. Determined, she started up a small incline toward the woods. “I just want you to know I can do this on my own.”
His hand on her shoulder halted her progress, paralyzing her. “Shelly, listen to me, would you?”
She hesitated, her gaze falling on the long line of trees ahead. “What now?”
“I like the prospect of finding a Christmas tree with you, but if you find my company so unpleasant, I’ll go back to the house.”
“That’s not it,” she murmured, feeling ridiculously like an adolescent. “I have fun with you.”
“Then why are we arguing?”
Against her will, she smiled. “I don’t know,” she admitted.
“Friends?” Slade offered her his gloved hand.
Shelly clasped it in her own. She nodded wordlessly at him.
“Now that we’ve got that out of the way, just how large of a tree were you thinking of?”
“Big.”
“Obviously. But remember it’s got to fit inside the house, so that sixty-foot fir straight ahead is out.”
“But the top six feet isn’t,” she teased.
Chuckling, Slade draped his arm across her shoulders. “Yes, it is.”
They were still within sight of the house. “I don’t want to cut down something obvious.”
“How do you mean?”
“In years to come I don’t want to look out the back window and see a hole in the landscape.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You’ve got a whole forest back here.”
“I want to go a bit deeper into the woods.”
“Listen, Shortcake, I’m not Lewis and Clark.”
Shelly paused. He’d used her father’s affectionate term for her. “What’d you call me?”
“Shortcake. It fits.”
“How’s that?”
His gaze roamed over her, his eyes narrowing as he studied her full mouth. It took everything within Shelly not to moisten her lips. A tingling sensation attacked her stomach, and she lowered her gaze. The hesitation lasted no longer than a heartbeat.
His breath hissed through his teeth before he asked, “How about this tree?” His fingers gripped the top of a small fir that reached his waist.
Shelly couldn’t keep from laughing. “It should be illegal to cut down anything that small.”
“Do you have a better suggestion?”
“Yes.”
“What?”
“That tree over there.” She marched ahead, pointing out a seven-foot pine.
“You’re being ridiculous. We wouldn’t be able to get that one through the front door.”
“Of course we’d need to trim it.”
“Like in half,” he mocked.
Shelly refused to be dissuaded. “Don’t be a spoilsport.”
“Forget it. This tree would be a nice compromise.” He motioned toward another small tree that was only slightly bigger than the first one he’d chosen.
Without hesitating, Shelly reached down and packed a thick ball of snow. “I’m not willing to compromise my beliefs.”
He turned to her, exasperation written all over his tight features. Shelly let him have it with the snowball. The accuracy of her toss astonished her, and she cried out with a mixture of surprise and delight when the snowball slammed against his chest, spraying snow in his face.
His reaction was so speedy that Shelly had no time to run. “Slade, I’m sorry,” she said, taking a giant step backward. “I don’t know what came over me. I didn’t mean to hit you. Actually, I was aiming at that bush behind you. Honest.”
For every step she retreated, he advanced, packing a snowball between his gloved hands.
“Slade, you wouldn’t,” she implored him with open arms.
“Yes, I would.”
“No,” she cried, and turned, running for all she was worth. He overtook her almost immediately, grabbing her shoulder. Shelly stumbled and they both went crashing to the snow-covered ground.
Slade’s thick torso pressed her deeper into the snow. “Are you all right?” he asked urgently, fear and concern evident in the tone of his voice as he tenderly pushed the hair from her face.
“Yes,” she murmured, breathless. But her lack of air couldn’t be attributed to the fall. Having Slade this close, his warm breath fanning her face, was responsible for that. Her breasts felt the urgent pressure of his chest, and even through the thick coats Shelly could feel the pounding rhythm of his heart echoing hers.
“Shelly.” He ground out her name like a man driven to the brink of insanity. Slowly he slanted his mouth over hers, claiming her lips in a kiss that rocked the very core of her being. Their lips caressed while their tongues mated until they were both panting and nearly breathless.
Her arms locked around his neck, and she arched against him desperately, wanting to give him more and more.
“Shelly.” His hands closed around her wrists, jerking them free of his nape. He sat up with his back to her. All she could see was the uneven rise and fall of his shoulders.
“Don’t worry,” she breathed out in a voice so weak that it trembled. “I won’t tell Margaret.”
Chapter 6
Slade spoke at last. “That shouldn’t have happened.”
“I suppose you want an apology,” Shelly responded, standing and brushing the snow from her pants. In spite of her efforts to appear normal, her hands trembled and her pulse continued to hammer away madly. From the beginning she’d known that Slade’s kiss would have this effect on her, and she cursed her traitorous heart.
He swiveled, shocked that she would suggest such a thing. “I should be the one to apologize to you.”
“Why? Because you kissed me?”
“I’m engaged.”
“I know.” Her voice rose several decibels. “What’s in a kiss, anyway? It wasn’t a big deal. Right?” Liar, her heart accused, continuing to beat erratically. It’d been the sweetest, most wonderful kiss of her life. One that would haunt her for a lifetime.
“It won’t happen again,” Slade said without looking at her. He held his body stiffly away from her. His façade slipped tightly into place, locking his expression right before her eyes. Shelly was reminded of the man she’d first seen on the plane—that polished, impeccable businessman who looked upon the world with undisguised indifference.
“As I said, it wasn’t a big deal.”
“Right,” he answered. The light treatment that she gave his kiss didn’t appear to please him. Standing, he stalked in the direction of the trees and stopped at the one he’d offered as a compromise earlier. Without soliciting her opinion, he began sawing away at its narrow base.
Within minutes the tree toppled, crashing to the ground and stirring up the snow. Shelly walked over, prepared to help him load the small fir onto the sled, but he wouldn’t let her.
“I’ll do it,” he muttered gruffly.
Offended, she folded her arms and stepped back, feeling awkward and callow. She’d feel better if they could discuss the kiss openly and honestly.
“I knew it was going to happen.” She’d been wanting him to kiss her all day.
“What?” he barked, heading in the direction of the house, tugging the sled and Christmas tree behind him.
“The kiss,” she called after him. “And if I was honest, I’d also admit that I wanted it to happen. I was even hoping it would.”
“If you don’t mind, I’d rather not talk about it.”
Slade was making her angrier every time he opened his mouth. “I said if I was being honest, but since neither of us is, then apparently you’re right to suggest we drop the issue entirely.”
Slade ignored her, taking giant steps so that she was forced into a clumsy jog behind him. The north wind whipped her scarf across her mouth, and Shelly tucked it more securely around her neck. She turned and took several steps backward so that the bitter wind buffeted her back instead of her face.
Unexpectedly, her boot hit a small, protruding rock, and Shelly momentarily lost her balance. Flinging her arms out in an effort to catch herself, she went tumbling down the hill, somersaulting head over feet until she lay sprawled, spread-eagled, at the base of the slope.
Slade blistered the wind with expletives as he raced after her, falling to his knees at her side, his eyes clouded with emotion. “Do you have to make a game out of everything?”
She’d nearly killed herself, and he accused her of acrobatics in the snow. She struggled to give him a sassy comeback, but the wind had been knocked from her lungs and she discovered that she couldn’t speak.
“Are you all right?” Slade looked concerned for the first time.
“I don’t know,” she whispered tightly. Getting the appropriate amount of oxygen to her lungs seemed to require all her energy.
“Don’t move.”
“I couldn’t if I wanted to.”
“Where does it hurt?”
“Where doesn’t it would be a more fitting question.” Belying her previous answer, she levered herself up with one elbow and wiggled her legs. “I do this now and then so I can appreciate how good it feels to breathe,” she muttered sarcastically.
“I said don’t move,” Slade barked. “You could’ve seriously injured something.”
“I did,” she cried. “My pride.” Slowly coming to her feet, she mockingly bowed before him and said, “Stay tuned for my next trick, when I’ll single-handedly leap tall buildings and alter the course of the mighty Columbia River.”
“You’re not funny.”
“I was desperately trying to be.”
“Here.” He tucked a hand under her elbow. “Let me help you back to the house.”
“This may come as a shock to you, but I’m perfectly capable of walking on my own.”
“Nothing you do anymore could shock me.”
“That sounds amazingly like a challenge.”
Slade’s indifference almost melted away as he stared down at her with warm, vulnerable eyes. “Trust me, it isn’t.” He claimed her hand, lacing his fingers with hers. “Come on, your father’s probably getting worried.”
Shelly sincerely doubted it. What Slade was really saying was that things would be safer for them back at the house. Temptation could more easily be kept at bay with someone else present.
He placed his hand at the base of her neck, and they continued their short sojourn across the snowy landscape.
The house looked amazingly still and dark as they approached. A whisper of smoke drifted into the clear sky from the chimney as though the fire had been allowed to die. Shelly had expected to hear Andy Williams crooning from the stereo and perhaps smell the lingering scent of freshly popped popcorn.
Instead, they were greeted by an empty, almost eerie silence.
While Slade leaned the tree against the side of the house, Shelly ventured inside. A note propped against the sugar bowl in the middle of the kitchen table commanded her attention. She walked into the room and picked it up.
Sick horse at the Adlers’. Call if you need me.
Love,
Dad
She swallowed tightly, clenching the paper in her hand as the back door shut.
“Dad’s out on a call,” she announced without turning around. “Would you like a cup of coffee? The pot’s full, although it doesn’t look too fresh. Dad must have put it on before he left. He knew how cold we’d be when we got back.” She realized she was chattering and immediately stopped. Not waiting for his response, she reached for two mugs.
“Coffee sounds fine.” Slade’s voice was heavy with dread. The same dread that Shelly felt pressing against her heart. Her father was the buffer they needed, and he was gone.
Shelly heard Slade drag out a kitchen chair, and she placed the mug in front of him. Her thick lashes fanned downward as she avoided his gaze.
Reluctantly she pulled out the chair opposite his and joined him at the table. “I suppose we should put up the tree.”
Slade paused. “We might.”
From all the enthusiasm he displayed, they could have been discussing income taxes. Shelly’s heart ached. She was embarrassed at having made the suggestion. No doubt good ol’ Margaret had hers flocked and decorated without ever involving Slade.
Her hands compressed around the mug, burning the sensitive skin of her palms.
“Well?” he prompted.
“I think I’ll wait until Dad’s back. We—every year since Mom died, we’ve done it together. It’s a fun time.” The walls of the kitchen seemed to be closing in on them. With every breath Shelly drew, she became more aware of the man sitting across from her. They’d tried to pretend, but the kiss had changed everything. The taste of him lingered on her lips, and unconsciously she ran her tongue over them, wanting to recapture that sensation before it disappeared forever.
Slade’s eyes followed her movement, and he abruptly stood, marching across the kitchen to place his half-full mug in the sink.
“I’ll tend the fire,” he offered, hastily leaving the room.
“Thank you.”
After emptying her own mug in the sink, Shelly joined him, standing in the archway between the kitchen and living room.
Slade placed a small log in the red coals, and instantly flames sizzled over the dry bark. Soon the fire crackled and hissed at the fresh supply of wood with ardent, hungry flames.
“I wonder what’s happening with the road crew,” Slade said.
“They could be here anytime.”
Together they moved toward the phone, each intent on collecting the needed information. In their eagerness, they collided. Shelly felt the full impact of the unexpected contact with Slade. Her breath caught someplace between her lungs and her throat, but not from any pain.
“Shelly.” His arms went around her faster than a shooting star. “Did I hurt you?”
One hand was trapped against his broad chest while the other hung loosely at her side. “I’m fine,” she managed, her voice as unsteady as his. Still, he didn’t release her.
Savoring his nearness and warmth, Shelly closed her eyes and pressed her head to his chest, listening to the beat of his heart beneath her ear.
Slade went utterly still until his arms tightened around her, and he groaned her name.
Nothing that felt this wonderful and good could be wrong. Shelly knew that in her heart, but her head buzzed with a nagging warning. Even though her eyes were closed, she could see flashing red lights. Slade had held and kissed her only once and had instantly regretted it. He’d even refused to talk about it, closing himself off from her.
Yet the arguments melted away like snow in a spring thaw when she was in his arms. His lips moved to her hair, and he breathed in deeply, as though to capture her scent.
“Shelly,” he pleaded, his voice husky with emotion. “Tell me to stop.”
The words wouldn’t form. She knew that she should break away and save them both the agony of guilt. But she couldn’t.
“I want you to hold me,” she whispered. “Just hold me.”
Automatically his arms anchored her against him, and his lips nuzzled her ear, shooting tingles of pleasure down her spine. From her ear he found her cheek, her hair. For an eternity he hesitated.
The phone jingled and they broke apart with a suddenness that rocked Shelly. Slade’s hand on her shoulder steadied her. Brushing the hair from her face, she drew in a steadying breath.
“Hello.” Her voice was barely above a whisper when she answered.
“Shelly? Are you all right? You don’t sound like yourself.”
“Oh hi, Dad.” She glanced up guiltily at Slade. His returning look was heavy with consternation. He brushed a hand through his own hair and walked to the picture window. “We got the tree.”
“That’s good.” He paused. “Are you sure everything’s fine?”
“Of course I’m sure,” she answered, somewhat defensively. “How are things with the Adlers?”
“Not good. I may be here awhile. I’m sorry to be away from you, but Slade’s there to keep you company.”
“How…long will you be?”
“A couple hours, three at the most. You and Slade will be all right, won’t you?”
“Oh sure.”
But her father didn’t sound any more convinced than Shelly felt.
* * *
—
Five minutes later Shelly replaced the receiver. The air in the room seemed to vibrate with Slade’s presence. He turned around and held her gaze. “I’ve got to get to Seattle.”
