She laughs softly and I follow her into the kitchen.
I settle onto one of the kitchen island stools and do exactly what I said.
Watch her.
How she fires up the burner with quiet competence. How she seasons the steak and chicken. The concentration on her face as she manages the timing of each.
We eat mostly in silence. Every time I catch her eye, she looks down with this demure little smile that makes me want to sweep everything off the island and fuck her right there.
When we’re done, she cleans the dishes with melted snow from one of the storage containers, and then we move to the great room and settle by the fire.
She curls against me without prompting on the sectional, her head on my chest, my arm around her shoulders.
“I’m scared of what happens when we get rescued,” she whispers into the firelight.
My arm tightens around her reflexively. “Me, too.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.” I stare into the flames, watching them dance and flicker. “Whatever happens, we face it together.”
But even as I say it, doubts creep in like frost through cracks.
When we go back to our real lives, what then? Do I magically transform into someone who doesn’t poison groundwater for profit? Does she overlook that I built my fortune on the destruction of ecosystems she’s dedicated her life to healing? Do those three hundred frantic emails disappear? Does the board suddenly decide I’m not a liability? Does the Brazil lawsuit just fucking vanish?
I don’t say any of that. Instead I hold her tighter and tell myself tomorrow’s problem can stay tomorrow’s.
Tonight, she’s here.
Safe in my arms.
Mine.
And I’ll be damned if I let anything take that away.
She shifts against me, tilting her head back to look at me with a sudden mischievous glint in her eyes. “You know, we’re kind of stinky again.”
My hand slides down to her hip. “Are you complaining about my hygiene?”
“I’m complaining aboutbothof our hygienes.” Her smile turns wicked. “I feel like taking a bath. Want to join me?”
Every muscle in my body goes tight. The image of her naked and wet, of steam rising off skin I’ve already mapped with my hands and mouth, hits me hard.
“We’ll have to melt more snow,” I manage, my voice coming out raw. “That’ll take time.”
“So we’ll take time.” She traces a finger down my chest, and fuck me if that simple touch doesn’t make my cock hard. “Unless you can’t wait that long?”
The challenge in her voice makes me want to throw her over my shoulder and carry her to our little spot in front of the fireplaceright now.
“I can wait,” I tell her, catching her wrist. “But you’re going to regret teasing me when we’re both in that water.”
Her breath hitches. “Promises, promises.”
She extracts herself from my lap with a laugh, heading toward the mudroom with that sway in her hips that she definitely knows I’m watching.
With a growl that’s half frustration and half anticipation, I follow her.
17
