“What about a phone line?” I ask.
He shakes his head, already lifting the handset on the old-fashioned receiver. “Dead. There’s no cell service out here either. The mountains block the signal.”
Damn it.
He strips off his outdoor gear and heads deeper into the house, and I can hear him rummaging in a cabinet as I peel off my boots and coat. Then there’s a flicker of light, and Sebastian is back, swinging a battery-powered lantern.
“This way,” he orders, and I follow him through to the living room. In the light from the lantern, I can see it’s a rustic, cozy looking place, full of wood accents and comfy furniture. It’s smaller than I would have expected from the great hedge fund billionaire, but right now, I would be happy with a single-room trailer, if there were four walls and a place to sleep.
God, sleep. I’m halfway there already, swaying on my feet as Sebastian goes to the huge stone fireplace that dominates the far wall. He grabs logs from the stack by the wall, and starts to build a fire in the grate, muttering something under his breath as he strikes a match, and lights the old newspaper.
It flares, burning brightly, and I move closer, drawn to the warmth and light. I hold out my frozen, stiff hands, just about ready to collapse.
God, it feels good.
“Get undressed.”
I blink at Sebastian in shock. He’s looming over me, already pulling off his sweater.
“W-what?” I gape, filled with a rush of telltale desire, despite everything.
My body still wants him.
Sebastian unbuttons his shirt, stripping it from his body with clinical efficiency. “Our clothes are wet through. We need to take them off, otherwise we’ll never get warm.”
Shirtless, his bare chest glows in the firelight. Taut. Muscular.
Tempting.
I avert my gaze, still reluctant. Now that the immediate danger has passed, I’m faced with the more pressing one.
Sebastian and I, alone in the house.
Getting naked.
“I’m fine,” I lie, edging closer to the fire. So what if I can barely feel my feet anymore, and I’m shivering so hard my teeth rattle? People take ice plunge baths for fun.
Sebastian exhales a frustrated breath. “Avery, I’m too tired to argue with you anymore. You’re cold, and wet through, and the last thing I need is you catching pneumonia while we’re stranded out here. So, for the love of God, take off your fucking clothes.”
I swallow hard. Even after everything, that steely tone in his voice is impossible to disobey.
“Fine,” I mumble, reaching for my damp sweater. “Just don’t look.”
Sebastian narrows his eyes. “I’ve already seen it all, Sparrow.”
His nickname still makes me shiver, but he’s already striding out of the room, leaving me free to strip out of my wet clothing. The warmth of the fire feels incredible against my bare skin, and I practically sigh in pleasure and relief.
Sebastian returns, with a couple of thick, warm bathrobes. “Here,” he shoves one at me, then strips off the rest of his clothes, and pulls his own on. We settle on the floor in front of the fire, crowding as close as possible to the flames without getting burned.
Still, my teeth won’t stop chattering.
“Do you need anything?” Sebastian’s voice comes, gruff.
I shake my head, my arms wrapped around my body, trying to keep my distance from him. “Just warmth,” I mutter.
Sebastian curses again under his breath. Then he puts an arm around my shoulders and yanks me closer.
“Hey!” I try to struggle, but Sebastian tucks me in his lap, resting against his chest as if I belong there.
“You can fight me tomorrow,” his voice is low in my ear. “Let’s just get through tonight, OK?”
I relax. I can’t help it. His arms are tight around me, and the warmth from his body seeps into me, just as hot as the fire blazing in the hearth.
God, it feels so good…
I’m so tired that my eyes are already closing, nestled there in Sebastian’s embrace. For a moment, I can almost pretend that the past few weeks haven’t happened. That we’re curled up in bed in London together, back when I wondered if there was a real chance for us. When I saw the softer, vulnerable side to him, and considered loving him for real.
What I wouldn’t give to go back to that moment…
I yawn, snuggling into him automatically. His arms tighten around me, and I wonder if he’s thinking about it, too.
Does he regret what he’s done? Does he wish that things could have been different between us?
Or is he sitting there, hating me, planning his revenge?
Then the tiredness takes me over, and I don’t wonder about anything at all.
3
AVERY
When I finally wake, it feels like I’ve been asleep for years. I’m curled under the covers in bed, light filtering through the heavy curtains, surrounded by the muffled silence of snow.
Bed…
I look around. I’m lying in a large, comfortable bed in a simply decorated room. Sebastian must have carried me up to a guest suite, sometime in the night.
I pull back the covers, and slowly stand, my body still aching from the hike. Outside the windows, it’s daylight, but the sky is cloudy, and snow is still falling thickly, burying any signs of civilization.
The view stretches, powdery and white all the way to the mountains.
I find a bathroom, cringing when I look into the mirror and see my reflection. My hair is a disaster, and I have dark circles under my eyes despite my long sleep. I focus on the cut on my forehead. There’s dry blood around it, and I use a wet washcloth to gently clean the area. Sebastian was right, it’s not too bad.
My stomach rumbles, reminding me I haven’t eaten in days now, so I go in search of food. I gingerly make my way downstairs and take a proper look around. There’s the living area we spent last night, with an old piano in the corner, and big vibrant paintings on the wall. Storage… A mudroom with boots and coats… A library nook… I’m just checking the phone line again when a back door opens, and Sebastian walks in, wrapped in a thick coat. He stomps his boots shakes his head, sending snow flying off in every direction.
I tense automatically, preparing myself for more hostilities, but he barely glances in my direction.
“Good news,” he says shortly, reaching for the light switch on the wall. He flips it, and the room is bathed in a warm glow. “Generator’s back up.”
I exhale in relief. “So we have heat and light now?” I ask hopefully.
He nods. “There’s coffee in the kitchen,” he adds, still curt, before striding off into another room.
Clearly, we’re back to the cold treatment, despite the power being back on.
But I’ll take it, if he’s right about the coffee.
I follow the smell to a small, homey kitchen, with wooden cabinets and ancient looking appliances. I find the coffee waiting in the pot and gulp down a scalding mug before turning my attention to food. The cupboards clearly haven’t been stocked in a while, but I find a loaf of sliced bread in the freezer and manage to pry a couple of pieces off to fit in the toaster.
I swear, the few minutes it takes for the bread to thaw feel like hours. I don’t even wait to find butter or jam, I just tear pieces off and shove them in my mouth, choking them down with the coffee, in my hurry to eat.