Page 2 of Frosty Mountain Man

My ears went hot. The kind of blush I could never hide no matter how many years I’d had to practice. “I’m dressed for a business meeting, which is what I was told this was.”

“Then you were told wrong.”

“Mr. Cole—”

“Harrison’s fine. Mister makes it sound like I want you here.” The words should have stung, but I had thicker skin than that.

I’d built up a decent immunity to men who thought being unpleasant made them interesting. This one was just better-looking.

“Fine,” I said. “I’ll stand out here in the wind and give you the highlights, since apparently you didn’t inherit your grandfather’s manners.”

One of his dark eyebrows rose and a hint of surprise colored his face. He was not a man used to being talked back to. Good, I thought.

The wind chose that moment to pick up, almost knocking me off my feet. I put out a hand to grab the doorframe... and missed. My palm landed on a warm, hard chest. Warmer than it made sense for a man standing outside in near-freezing wind. Immediately, my gaze flew to his face. His eyes were dark and half-lidded, watching me. “Um, sorry.”

His chest was solid under my hand, the kind of solid that made a girl wonder what the rest of him felt like. I should have yanked my hand back like it was on fire. Instead, I just stood there like an idiot, palm flat against all that heat.

Finally, my better sense came to life and I dropped my hand. Dropped it slowly, running it down his chest and over his stomach before I could stop myself.

Bad, bad girl, I told myself. Extremely bad girl. The kind who groped a hostile stranger on his own front porch.

I blamed that lapse in judgement on the long dry spell my love life had been going through, and intended to keep blaming it for as long as it took to stop feeling that handprint on my palm.

Another gust rushed past me, this one filled with tiny ice pellets.

He looked at me, then at the sky, then back at me again.

“You need to leave. Now. The storm’s coming in earlier than expected.”

“What storm?” I looked up at the sky and saw the gray clouds that had gathered.

“There’s a storm coming in tonight. A bad one.”

“Well, it will just have to wait until we finish our business.” I drew out the papers that needed to be reviewed. “This needs to be approved before I can leave. If you would—”

Just as I was about to hand it to him, another gust jerked it out of my hands, sending it down the gravel road. I gave a very unladylike curse and hurried after it. I chased it for a few yards before managing to step on it with my shoe. I would have toppled over if Harrison hadn’t appeared beside me, his big hand wrapping around my waist as he picked up the document.

His hand was huge. It spanned most of my side, fingers pressing into soft flesh. I had the sudden, ridiculous thought that if he wanted to, he could lift me clean off the ground and do whatever he wanted.

I didn’t let go of the thought nearly as fast as I should have.

He dragged me back to the cabin door and basically shoved me over the threshold before shutting the door behind us with a thud.

The silence was almost deafening.

The wind had managed to knock most of my hair out of my neat bun on top of my head. I pushed the strands back with one hand. “I checked. It wasn’t supposed to hit until tomorrow.”

“Mountain weather doesn’t read forecasts.” He studied me for a very long moment.

“If you’ll just read the file, I can be on my way.”

He looked down at the document in his hand. I could see the smudge of my footprint on the blue backing paper. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“I beg your pardon?” He’d been adamant about not letting me inside out of the cold and now he was informing me I was staying as if it was a foregone conclusion he’d made without me.

Arrogant bastard.

I thought of the carrot my boss had dangled in front of me. A bonus for getting his grandson’s approval. I thought about my rent, my car insurance due at the end of the month. And the fact that my boss hadn’t been acting like his normal self for a few months.