She tipped her head back on the bed, but kept her gaze locked with his. He pushed himself home with one long, deep stroke, and Keira gasped as she rocked her hips, taking even more of him within.

Outside, the storm raged, and inside, a different kind of storm swept the two of them into a world of mindless passion. Where all that mattered was the next touch, the next kiss, the next stroke of heat to heat. Their bodies moved in an ancient dance with a rhythm that seemed as old as time and as new as her next breath.

His body moved with hers, invaded hers, claimed hers, and Keira gave him all she had to give. Her hands smoothed over his back and around to stroke down his chest, her thumbnails flicking at his flat, brown nipples until he was gritting his teeth to hold back a shout.

She liked knowing that he was as lost to sensation as she was. That his body was screaming for release as loudly as her own. That she could shatter Nathan's rigid sense of control.

Arching into him again and again, she urged him deeper, faster, harder. Her fingers clawed at his back while the pressure within tightened ferociously, demanding release.

“Now, Nathan,” she groaned, moving with him at a fever pitch that couldn't be sustained without the two of them bursting into flames, “please now.”

He pushed himself up on his hands, stared down at her face and whispered, “You first, Keira. You first and I'll follow.”

He slid one hand down the length of her body, across her flat abdomen, down to where their bodies were joined. His fingers dipped into the joining and stroked her damp heat as he continued to move inside her.

“Nathan!” Keira shrieked his name, clutched at his shoulders and bucked beneath him as an overwhelming wave of pleasure swept through her on what felt like an endless tide of mind-shattering explosions rattling just beneath her skin.

“Now,” he groaned and plunged deep inside her, his body shaking as he fell into the same tidal wave that had captured Keira and let it carry them both away.

An hour … or, for all Keira knew, a week later, she forced her eyelids open and stared up at the ceiling. Fire-cast shadows leaped and danced across the beams in hypnotic pulses.

“You okay?” Nathan murmured from close to her ear.

“Not sure yet,” she admitted, turning her head on the pillow to smile at him. Reaching out, she smoothed his hair back from his forehead with her fingertips. “Hey, I can move my hand, so … good sign!”

Pushing himself up on one elbow, he stared down at her for a long minute or two, his eyes unreadable. A curl of unease opened inside Keira as she studied him, searching for a shadow of the passionate man he'd been so short a time ago. But the Nathan watching her now was more like the closed-off man she'd met his first day at the lodge.

“What?” she finally asked, unable to stand the silence any longer.

“I was just thinking.”

“About?” she coaxed.

He looked as if he were about to say something, then thought better of it. Shaking his head, he said only, “Nothing. Never mind.”

He rolled off the bed and walked naked across the room to a door that he opened to reveal a gigantic closet. It was practically empty from what Keira could see, since he'd brought only enough clothes for a month. But he stepped inside and when he came back out, he was wearing a thick black robe and carrying a dark green one that he tossed onto the foot of the bed. “I brought my own robe, but this green one was hanging in the closet when I got here.”

“Thanks,” she said, reaching for it and shoving both arms into the sleeves before slipping off the bed and tying the belt of the robe at her waist.

His features were tight, closed off as if he were carefully preventing whatever he was thinking from showing on his face. Which only served to really irritate Keira. A few minutes ago, they'd shared something truly amazing. They'd been as close as two people could get. Yet now … he was looking at her as if she were a stranger.

A really unwelcome stranger.

“Nathan, what's going on?”

“Not a thing,” he said and started for the bedroom door and the stairs beyond. “But I promised you food, didn't I? I'll check out the kitchen. See what I can find.”

Very nice, Keira thought. He'd shut her out so politely, so neatly, she had to wonder if maybe his hideous grandmother, who'd shipped him off to boarding school with hardly a wave goodbye, had taught him how to do that? How to push people away without even breaking a sweat.

Well, she wasn't going anywhere. Not until the storm stopped. And to be honest, even if the storm stopped right this minute, she wouldn't have been going anywhere. Not until she found out what the hell had happened to send Nathan from orgasmic to crabby in no time at all.

She followed him down the stairs, keeping one hand on the banister to make sure she didn't fall down the damn stairs and break her neck before she got some answers. She made a sharp right at the bottom of the stairs just in time to see his black robe disappear into the distant kitchen.

Well, if he thought she was that easy to get rid of, he really didn't know her well at all. Walking quickly, her bare feet hardly making a sound on the area rugs tossed across the gleaming wood floors, Keira got to the swinging door to the kitchen, slapped her palm against it and sent it crashing open.

He was at the fridge and raised his head to look at her when she stepped into the room. Then he dismissed her coolly, reached into the freezer and pulled out a long, flat aluminum tray.

“The housekeeper fills the freezer for me once a week. I think this is …” He read the label. “Fettuccine Alfredo with grilled garlic chicken. It's from the Clearwater, the restaurant you seem so fond of.”

“Their fettuccine is great,” Keira said, walking toward the granite counter and one of the stools pulled up beneath it. She sat down and tucked her bare feet up to get them off the cold floor.

“Glad you approve,” he said, and turned to quickly take off the lid, turn on the oven and pop the tray inside. “Shouldn't take too long,” he said, and walked to the wine cooler along the wall. “Would you like a glass of wine?”

“Sure,” Keira said, trying to figure out a way to get past the wall he'd erected around himself so quickly and so completely. “Nathan, is everything all right?”

“Why wouldn't it be?”

“You're just acting a little … weird.”

One black eyebrow rose as he set a bottle of white wine on the countertop. He opened a drawer, took out a corkscrew and then tore off the foil top from the bottle. Keira shivered a little and he said, “Cold?”

“A bit.”

There was another fireplace in the kitchen, but this one was cold and dark. Beyond the windows leading to the covered deck, the world was a whirl of white. Light faded from the sky, the heavy clouds dropped even lower, and the flurries of snow were thick enough that it looked as though someone had hung a sheet from the edge of the patio cover.

“There's extra firewood on the deck. I'll get some.”

“Okay, fine,” Keira said as Nathan walked to the back door, “but first, tell me what you were going to say upstairs. When you were looking at me so funny. When you said, ‘oh, it's nothing, never mind.’ “

“Keira,” he said with a sigh, “just let it go.”

“Oh no,” she assured him, shaking her head at the sheer folly of the man. “That's never gonna happen. So it'll be quicker and easier on both of us if you'll just spit it out.”

“It's nothing.”

“Then say it,” she insisted.

One hand on the doorknob, he stared at her for a long moment, as if trying to decide whether to speak or not. At last, though, he nodded and said, “Fine. I was thinking about the sex. And I wondered just how far you were willing to go to get me to stay here for the whole month.”

Keira felt the slap of his words like a physical blow. Stung, humiliated and furious, she glared at him with enough heat that, if there were any justice at all, he would have been a pillar of fire. “Are you serious?”

“You asked what I was going to say,” he said and watched her through narrowed eyes.

“I didn't know you were going to say that!”

“Don't sound so offended.” Nathan looked at her for a long minute. “It's not like I'm surprised.”

“Is that right?”

“For God's sake, Keira, you think this is the first time a woman's used her body to get me to do something for her? We're both adults. You wanted something from me and you used sex to get it.”

Fury whipped through Keira. “You … you …”

He shrugged and headed for the back door. “It was good for both of us. We each got what we wanted. No point now in trying to make it something it wasn't.”

He opened the back door to a gust of icy wind and said, “Look, let's just forget it, all right?”

“Sure,” she whispered as she watched him hurry barefoot across the icy deck toward the neatly stacked pile of firewood. As he gathered up a few logs and some kindling, the wind whipping the edges of his robe around his calves, Keira jumped off her stool, crossed the floor and quietly closed and locked the back door.

Instantly he straightened up, whirled around and shocked, stared at her through the glass. He crossed to the door and gave the knob a turn and a shake. “Keira, open the damn door.”

“I don't think so,” she said, folding her arms over her chest and tapping one bare foot against the cold wood floor.

She'd never been so mad in her whole life. Or so humiliated. For God's sake, she'd let him do things to her no one had ever done before, only because she'd felt a connection to him somehow. Some minuscule, apparently clearly one-sided, feeling. How could he ever think that she would have slept with him just to make him stay?

Did she really give off such a slutty vibe?

And what the hell kind of people was he so used to dealing with that would make him assume she was so coldblooded?

He shivered, clutched the firewood tighter to his chest and gave her a glare she was sure sent his employees scuttling for cover.

Keira, however, remained unmoved.

“Damn it, Keira, it's snowing out here!”

“You're under the porch roof.”

“It's freezing.”

“Start a fire.”

“On the deck?”

“Frankly, I don't care if you freeze solid to the spot. I'll put up a small but tasteful plaque, something like Here Stands An American Moron.”

“This is not funny!” he shouted, and hunched deeper into his way-too-thin-for-snow robe.

“No kidding!” Keira walked closer to the glass so she could burn her stare into his eyes. “I cannot believe you. You actually think I'd prostitute myself to get you to stay here?”

“I didn't say that,” he reasoned.

“Oh, yes you did, you pompous, self important, miserable son of a bitch.”

“Look, I was wrong, okay?”

“You're just saying that so I'll open the door,” she snapped.

“Damn straight.”

“Well, forget it! You deserve to freeze, but you probably won't. You're so damn cold already, I don't see how you could possibly get any colder!”

“Can you let me the hell in the house and then yell at me?”

“Why should I let you in?” she demanded, so furious she was seeing red at the edges of her vision. Amazing. You really did see red if you were angry enough.

“Because … because …”

“See? Even you can't think of a reason!” Keira shouted.

“Hah!” Nathan raised one hand in the air, dropped some kindling on his foot and hopped in place. “Because if I die out here, I won't be able to stay the damn month and your town won't get the money you want so badly.”

“Funny,” she said, thoughtfully tapping one finger against her chin, “but I don't remember it saying anywhere in the will that you had to be alive and here for a month. It'd probably be okay if we just prop you up out there on the deck.”

“You are the most infuriating woman I have ever met.”

“You've got a heck of a lot of nerve, Nathan Barrister. You call me a ho, and I'm the one who's infuriating?”

He flicked a glance behind him when the wind shifted and a flurry of snow rushed at him from the lake. Turning his gaze back to hers, he said tightly, “Keira, open this damn door and let me inside.”

“And if I don't?”

“Then I'll break the glass with one of these logs and we'll both be freezing our asses off.”

Hmm. Good point. Well, she hadn't really planned on letting him become an ice sculpture on the deck. Though the idea was all too tempting at the moment.

“Fine.” She reached out, unlocked the door and then stomped across the room so she was as far from Nathan as she could get and still be able to give him dirty looks.

He rushed into the room, dropped the firewood into the hearth, then pounded his bare feet against the floor and slapped his hands at his arms, trying to get his blood moving.

“Cold?” she asked sweetly.

“Funny,” he snapped, snarling at her.

“As cold as that tiny little marble in your chest? You know, the one you call your heart?”

Still shivering, he turned his back on her, started a fire in the hearth and huddled next to the flames as they sputtered, caught and licked at the dry wood. Finally, he turned a look on her. “My heart's got nothing to do with any of this.”

“Since it probably gets very little use, I'm willing to bet you're right,” Keira hissed.

“You tried to freeze me to death!” His voice ricocheted off the high beamed ceiling and Keira didn't even flinch.

“Don't be such a baby.”

“A baby?” Astonishment flashed across his features and she waved one hand at him dismissively.

“You're lucky I let you back in.”

There was a long moment of silence before he finally said, “Yeah. You're just crazy enough to have left me out there, so I guess I am lucky. And frostbitten.”

“That was a nasty thing to think about me,” she said, ignoring his complaint, “and even nastier to say.”

“You wouldn't leave it alone. You had to know what I was thinking,” he pointed out, raising his hands high in amazement. “What is it about women, anyway? They poke and prod at a man to tell them what he's thinking and when he does, they lock him outside in a damn snowstorm!”

“Is it our fault that what you're really thinking is so ridiculously insulting that we aren't prepared?” Keira slapped the granite counter. “We want to know what you're thinking, because, silly us, we actually think your minds aren't twisted little black holes.”

“No, you expect us to be like you,” Nathan said tightly, still scowling, still stamping his feet on the floor trying to get his circulation moving again. “All warm and fuzzy, wanting kids and a dog and a white picket fence and—”

“Are you delusional?” Keira interrupted his rant. “Who said anything about a picket fence?”

“You don't have to say it,” he challenged, stabbing one finger in the air, pointed at her. “It's who you are. You're Ms. Roots herself. Well, I don't have roots. Don't want any and if I found some I'd rip ‘em out of the ground.”

Keira stomped across the room until she was right in front of him. His blue eyes were wild and hot, and the set of his jaw told her he was every bit as furious as she was. Well, good. No point in being mad all by yourself. And besides, he'd probably never lost his temper. Not the ever-polite, always distant Nathan Barrister. So, she'd let him rant and rave. Maybe it'd do him some good. God knows it was doing wonders for her.

“Your perfect little town has nothing I want or need. As soon as possible, I'll be on my jet, heading for the opposite end of the world.”

“Good. Nobody's asking you to settle down in Hunter's Landing, Mr. Wonderful.” Keira stabbed her finger at him, poking him several times dead center of the chest until he grabbed her finger in self defense. She shook him off a second later. “I'm certainly not laying out traps for you—”

“Oh, no?” Nathan countered quickly, apparently enjoying interrupting her for a change. “No traps, huh? Did it happen to escape your notice that we didn't use any protection?”

Keira blanched for a second. Damn it, it had escaped her attention. Then his words hit home. A trap? “First I'm a slut and now I'm trying to trap you and your golden sperm? Aren't I the busy little bee?”

“You're deliberately avoiding the point,” he said. “We didn't use anything and—”

“Well, jeez,” she said, interrupting him neatly for the umpteenth time, “color me human. You know, I don't actually travel with condoms in my jeans on the off chance that some spoiled, snotty rich guy will want to have sex with me and then insult me!”

He grabbed two fists full of his own hair and yanked. Hard. Then, his voice rumbled through the kitchen at a level just below howling. “For God's sake, I just told you I could have made you pregnant and you take that as an insult, too?”

“I'm not pregnant,” she snapped. “Just so you know, I'm on the Pill, so no worries there, Mr. Barrister. Your personal fortune is safe from this particular gold digger.” “I never said you were a—” “But as long as we're on the subject,” she continued, her voice rolling right over his, “how about you?” He grimaced. “I'm not on the Pill.”

“Not the best time to develop a sense of humor, just so you know.”

He raised his hands in mock surrender. “Fine. Fine. I'm healthy. No worries there. You?”

“Contrary to certain people's opinion, I am not a slut and, therefore, I, too, am very healthy.” She crossed her fingers over her heart. “Of course, I'll be happy to get you a letter frommy doctor to alleviate any further concern …”

“Damn it, Keira, I'm not calling you a slut for doing whatever you have to do to get what you want. That's how the world works. The real world, that is, not your own personal little Xanadu here.”

“Believe it or not,” she shouted, “I did not have sex with you to keep you here for the month!”

“You keep telling yourself that,” he said tightly.

“Jeez,” Keira muttered, shaking her head. “Are you really so far out of touch with humanity? Does everything in your world carry a price tag?”

“There are price tags everywhere in the world. Wake up and maybe you'll notice them.”

“You lead an ugly life,” she whispered.

“At least I live with my eyes open,” he countered. “I know that people are mostly out for themselves and willing to do just about anything to take care of number one.”

“So I slept with you to get what I want?”

“Wouldn't be the first time it's happened.”

Keira flinched at the coldness in his eyes. He really did believe that anyone getting close to him was out for his money. His lifestyle. How sad. How unbearably empty his world must be. And the saddest part was, he didn't even realize it.

“And so, because you've surrounded yourself with sycophants and users, you naturally assumed that I was one, too.”

He gritted his teeth and a muscle in his jaw twitched. “And you're telling me you're not.”

“Yeah,” she said, “I am. And what's more, you know it. Somewhere in that cavernous emptiness you call a heart, you know it. And you insulted me on purpose.”

He glared at her. “You are the most—” He caught himself, dragged in a gulp of air and then fired his gaze into hers. “Okay, yeah. I did.”

“Finally!” Keira shouted and scooted a little closer to the kitchen fire, nudging Nathan out of her way. “The question is why?”

“Why?”

“Why did you want to insult me, Nathan?” She tipped her head to one side, stared up at him and asked, “If you wanted me to leave, all you had to do was say so.”

“I didn't want you to leave,” he admitted, though it was clear he wasn't happy about the confession.

“Then why?”

“I honestly don't know,” he said and pulled her up close against him. When she tried to push herself free, he simply tightened his hold on her middle, pinning her body to his until Keira could feel his need building again.

Was he so unused to people wanting to be with him just to be with him? Was his world so insulated that the only people he ever saw were the ones who worked for him or wanted something from him?

Slightly mollified, Keira stared up into his eyes and saw questions still lingering in those pale blue depths. The man did things to her she had never expected. He had a way of touching her heart at the oddest moments and she was more than a little confused about that.

She could continue the fight, which, let's face it, she was enjoying. She could give him answers to his questions. She could even make him wonder about lots of other things.

Or, she could do what she most wanted to do.

Tugging the lapels of his thick, cashmere robe aside, Keira stroked his bare chest with the flat of her palms and watched his eyes narrow into slits and his jaw clench as he hissed in a long, slow breath.

Deliberately, she teased him, spreading his robe open, baring his body to her touch. She slid her hands over his still cold skin and felt heat bubble beneath the surface at her touch. Then she tugged the belt of the robe free and swept one hand down to capture his hard length in a soft, firm grip.

“You know, Nathan,” she said, smoothing her fingers up and down his erection with slow caresses, “the simple truth is, I've wanted you almost from the moment I first saw you. That's why I stayed. That's why I want you again now.”

He groaned as she slipped her free hand down to cup him. “Works for me.”

Eight

The rich scent of Alfredo sauce was beginning to fill the kitchen, but Keira was hungry for something other than food. Strange, but even fighting with Nathan was stimulating.

Her body was quickening as his hands moved to tug her robe open and pull it down off her shoulders to let it pool on the floor at her feet. The air in the kitchen was still icy from the wind that had whooshed inside when the door was opened. Yet she didn't really mind it. Instead, that sensation added to the others already coursing through her body, mingling together, causing a ripple effect of near turmoil in her system.

His hands swept up and down her body, his long, talented fingers exploring every curve as she ran her own hands over him. His broad, muscular chest was clearly defined, sculpted and tanned, making him look as though he were carved from the same kind of honey-toned wood that graced the lodge.

But he was warm and ready, and his body was already pressing into hers, letting her know that he felt the same blood pounding need she did.

“Why do I want you so much?” he whispered, his fingers stroking, sliding down her body to caress the heat between her thighs.

Keira sighed and swayed unsteadily on her feet as a rush of something delicious began to build within. “Why do you ask so many questions?” she answered.

He smiled, and her heart flipped in her chest. A weird sensation, but a shockingly good one.

“You're the one with all the questions,” he murmured, dipping his head to kiss the curve of her neck, to nibble at the base of her throat.

Her hands moved to his shoulders and she clung to him desperately as he continued to smooth his fingers over her damp heat. Instinctively, he found that one most-sensitive bud and concentrated his attentions on it, thumb and forefinger gliding, stroking until Keira's blood felt as if it were boiling just beneath her skin.

“No questions,” she said, licking dry lips and trying to catch her breath. “Not now, anyway.”

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