TWO
IMUST BE DREAMING.
The strange man in Brooke Cavanaugh’s dream pierced her with his angry stare. Closing her eyes, she tried to make him disappear.
The uncomfortable lump resting against her hip roused her further out of her prescription-drug induced slumber. Awareness gradually surrounded her, sending a loud ring through her ears. She stretched the aches out of her limbs, and her arms bumped into an object above her head. Her fuzzy mind tried to recall what surface she’d rested upon. It certainly wasn’t a soft bed. Her stiff muscles were positioned on some type of cushion with a texture like leather. Groggily, she tried to remember why in heaven’s name she would sleep on leather.
Her memory returned in broken pieces – a wedding rehearsal she hadn’t wanted to attend, a reoccurring migraine, and two instead of one-prescription pills had caused her to slip from the boring proceedings of the rehearsal to seek refuge in her sister’s car.
Yawning, she forced her eyes open. The darkened sky gave evidence to the evening hour. She blinked and mentally shook the fuzziness from her head. Immediately the strange man appeared again, sitting in the front seat of her sister’s car, twisting around with his eyes narrowed on her. The scowl furrowing his brow made her gasp. She slowly straightened to a sitting position, fright causing her heart to pound out of control.
Although his angry stare sliced right through her, his good looks were also very disturbing. Hair as black as midnight, loosely brushed his jacket collar. A square jaw emphasized his stern expression and gave him a natural male ruggedness. Lips were full, yet thinned at this moment, and from what she could see of his shoulders and neck, he looked to be very muscular. His trimmed goatee let her know he was a well-groomed man who cared about his appearance.
He was too handsome to be real – which meant he wasn’t real. The whole thing seemed a little odd. She had no desire for a man in her life, conjured or otherwise. He must be in her nightmare... one she couldn’t wake up from. She rubbed her eyes and looked again, but the man was still there.
“Hello.” Irritation laced his baritone voice.
Her heart skipped at the sound, and a shiver of anxiety swept over her. What was he doing in her sister’s car? She prayed he wasn’t trying to car-jack the vehicle with her in it!
“Who are you?” she asked softly.
“Justin. Who are you?”
Justin. The name didn’t sound familiar. “Brooke Cavanaugh.”
“Miss Cavanaugh, let’s skip the formalities and get to the major question. What are you doing in this Jeep?” The scowl came back, stronger this time, making his whole face hard.
Her heart accelerated from his belligerent tone. “Jeep? This isn’t a Jeep. This is my sister’s car.” Panic welled inside her as she quickly surveyed the inside of the vehicle.
He laughed harshly. “No, this is not your sister’s car. This is a Jeep. How else could I have driven this far in the snow and in four-wheel-drive?”
A breath caught in her throat. “Oh, I’m so sorry, you see, I had a terrible headache... I must have gotten into the wrong car... um, Jeep.”
Out of the corner of her eye, the falling snow pulled her attention to the window. From what she could tell, she was in the mountains. The amount of snow covering the road led her to believe they were at a high altitude. “Where in the blazes are we?”
“We’re still in Montana but close to the border. I was on my way to a cabin to spend some peaceful time relaxing and enjoying myself – by myself.”
Blood rushed to her cheeks, turning her face hot. “Why... why did you bring me all this way if you wanted to be alone?”
“Because I didn’t know you were there. Believe me, if I’d known you were in the backseat, I would have gotten rid of you sooner.”
Gotten rid of me?He didn’t have to make it sound like it was the end of the world. Humiliation swept over her, twisting her stomach into knots. “I said I was sorry. Can’t you just turn around and take me back?”
He shook his head and pushed his fingers through his hair. “Didn’t you hear a word I said? We’re in the mountains, little lady, which is three hours from the parking lot you thought you were in, and I was on my way to a peaceful retreat. You’ve spoiled everything.”
“Yes, I heard you.” She lifted her voice. “But as you can see, I can’t exactly get out and hail down a taxi, now can I? So, the way I see it, if you don’t want any company during your little retreat, then I suggest you take me back.”
He glared at her for one last second, then turned in his seat and gripped the steering wheel. His white knuckles testified to his anger, so she hesitated to say any more. Periodically, his gaze clashed with hers in the rearview mirror, but he quickly looked away.
His expression remained tight and a muscle in his cheek twitched rhythmically. “I’m not going back, but I’ll take you to the cabin and you can call someone to come get you.”
“That’s it?” She sat forward. “End of conversation? Don’t I have a say at all?”
