Disappointment crashed over me.Days?My budget was strict. It didn’t include snow days. If I missed time in the field, I couldn’t make it up.
“It’s Alaska,” Beck added gently. “The land sets the schedule.”
My headache threatened to come roaring back. I let out a humorless laugh. “I’m sure you’re devastated by the thought of me being snowed in.”
He said nothing. But hurt flitted through his eyes, the expression so swift I might have missed it if I hadn’t been staring.
“I’m sorry,” I muttered. “You didn’t deserve that.”
He closed the distance between us, stopping an arm’s length away. “I’d rather have you safe here than stuck somewhere in the woods during a blizzard.”
I looked at his mouth. I couldn’t help it. His broad frame eclipsed mine, his shadow falling over me in a way that threatened to curl my toes again. The buttons marching down the front of his shirt were black and shiny. There were just fiveof them. Five tugs and I could see what lay under the fabric. His skin. His muscle. Probably a mat of salt-and-pepper hair.
An ache blossomed between my legs. In my mind, he smoothed his big hands up my thighs, his silver gaze fixed on mine.
In front of me, his chest swelled, straining the buttons. I jerked my head up, and our stares collided. Heat flared in his eyes, something possessive and hungry peering out.
Run, a voice whispered in my mind. But another, louder voice urged something else.
Mine.
I swayed toward him.
He stepped backward, and the spell disintegrated. “Get some sleep,” he said, moving to the door. “We’ll see what the morning brings.”
He left, pulling the door shut behind him before I could form a response.
Disappointment settled over me. Going to the bed, I plopped on the edge of the mattress.
Beck wanted me. I’d swear on it. The heat in his eyes had been unmistakable.
And yet, he’d left.
Outside, the first fat snowflakes drifted past the window. Beck’s words from earlier ran through my head.
I’m trying to protect you.
But from what? Off-grid residents who valued their privacy? Or from something else?
From him? He probably thought he was too old for me.
But what if I disagreed? I was an adult. And something was happening between us whether he liked it or not. It pulled at me every time I was near him.
And he felt it, too. I looked at my closed door. A storm was coming, and it had nothing to do with the weather.
Chapter
Six
BECK
Iwoke to the sound of wind screaming outside my window.
Blinking sleep from my eyes, I rolled over and peered at the clock on my nightstand.
Three in the morning.
The storm had hit. Snow pelted the window, a drift climbing halfway up the glass. Wind rattled the panes and howled against the side of the bed and breakfast.
