Instant Attraction

Chapter 7

Cam watched Katie come flying out of the lodge, her clothes all neat and tidy, her hair perfectly pinned up on her head, all pretty perfection except for the jacket she’d left open in her hurry.

In the week and a half he’d known her, she seemed to be unwinding a bit. He wanted to unwind her some more.

Unwind and unwrap…

She came to a stop in front of him. “Hi.”

“Goldilocks.”

“You said we were a bad idea,” she reminded him.

“We are.”

She grinned at him, and he felt his own reluctantly tug at his mouth. Ah, man. He liked her. That simple. He liked her, and in his experience, that never ended well for anyone. “We got lots of snow last night,” he said. “It’s-”

“Beautiful.”

He’d been about to say “a pain in the ass,” because without racing in his life, a storm meant snowblowing, shoveling, clearing paths, making sure the clients could drive the three-mile gravel road in-

“I saw you limping.”

A bare admission that she’d been watching him. Another woman would have certainly played coy about that, but not this one. She didn’t seem to have a coy bone in her body. Nope, whatever she felt was right there on her face and her sleeve, for the whole world to see. He admired that about her even as he recoiled from it. “Just a lingering ache.”

“From an accident?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“What happened?”

“You really don’t know?” He thought everyone in the free world knew. It’d certainly been all over the news: GOLDEN

BOY FUCKS UP, NEWS AT 11:00.

“Does it have anything to do with why you stopped racing?”

“You could say that.” She could have looked him up on the Internet and read all about it, about the speculation that he’d been drinking, or abusing prescription meds-none of which had been true until after the crash, but that didn’t make good copy. And in any case, why else would a prime athlete crash out of nowhere?

Because he’d lost his focus, that’s why. Plain and simple.

And painful.

The truth was his girlfriend Serena had been sleeping with someone else, and his mind had wandered at close to a hundred miles per hour on a forty-degree slope-never smart. “I caught an edge.” And had come out of surgery to find his face plastered across every station, along with footage of his spectacular crash.

Over and over…

“When I was telling you about my accident,” she said, “you never mentioned that you’d had a doozy of your own.”

No, he hadn’t.

“And you didn’t mention it because…”

He lifted a shoulder. “I’m not as well adapted as you?”

“Is that a guess?”

“A little bit, yeah.”

She looked baffled. “You act like you’re a stranger to yourself.”

“I am. I was.” He shrugged. “It’s not as bad since…”

“Since you came home again?”

His gaze met hers. That. But something else. Her. Meeting her. “Yeah,” he finally said.

“Well, it sounds like you were lucky.”

That was a new one. Lucky. “How do you figure that?”

“You could have died.”

That was actually quite true. He could have died. There’d been many days where he’d wanted to, but those were all in his past now. He’d lived, and he would do with that what he could.

“It’s odd, that whole near-death experience,” she murmured. “It changes you.”

He found his gaze locked in hers. He had a feeling he knew where this was going and he didn’t like it. “Yeah.”

“So why aren’t you trying to get back to what you clearly love?”

“I’m not good enough for competing. Not anymore.”

“You skate. You cross-country ski. You hike-”

“Okay, what part of not good enough don’t you understand? I can’t win.”

She just looked at him for a beat. “If it was your entire heart like it seems it was, then there are always other ways to be involved,” she said very gently, and far nicer than he deserved. “Instead, you appear to have walked away from it.”

“That’s the story that’s going around.” He revved the snow-mobile engine. “Look, I’m going for a ride.” He took in the way she was staring at the snowmobile as if it might open its engine compartment and bite her. “You want to come?”

“I don’t know.”

He remembered her aversion to the Sno-Cat and knew where it came from now. “Safer than driving a car,” he said quietly. “Safer than boarding.” He looked into her eyes and offered the silent challenge-take it or leave it. To tip the scales, he handed her his helmet.

She stared at it, then at him. “Am I going to need protection?”

“Yes,” he said. “Protect yourself. Always.” From a fall. From me…

And then, to protect himself, he scooted as far forward on the seat as he could, which didn’t matter when she hopped on behind him, slipping her arms around his waist, hugging up against the back of him. Her jacket was still open, and though he shouldn’t have been able to feel anything through his own jacket, he imagined he could feel her every breath, her breasts, her nipples hardening…

Jesus, he needed to get laid. “Ready?”

“I don’t know.” Her breathing was uneven in his ear and she was squeezing the hell out of him, seeming to be pretty close to another panic attack.

Something he understood all too well. “What happened to that new adventurous spirit?”

She took a deep breath, let it out, again in his ear, which brought him both goose bumps and an erection. He rolled his eyes at himself as she squeezed him some more.

“It’s okay,” he said, “I don’t need air.”

“Oh! Sorry!” She relaxed the fingers digging into him so marginally it didn’t matter. “Okay. Ready.”

Her bravado grabbed him. Just snagged him by the throat and held on. She wanted things for herself, and wasn’t afraid to go out and get them. Well, she was afraid, but she didn’t let it stop her. He had no idea why that was such a turn-on.

Or maybe he did. He’d let his fears stop him, a fact that both shamed him and pissed him off.

“Go,” she said. “Before I lose it.”

He hit the gas and they went screaming off into the snow, literally screaming, or maybe that was just her, crying out in hopefully surprised pleasure. “You okay?” he shouted back.

She had her arms wrapped around him like vises. Her hands had slipped beneath his jacket, beneath his shirt, too, and were directly against his flesh, fingers digging into his ribs. “So okay!” She still had a death grip on him and was screaming at the top of her lungs, but she was okay. He rode up the hill behind the lodge, whipped around a grove of trees and back down again, faster so that the wind whipped at them.

“Oh my God! Don’t stop!”

At that breathless demand, he shook his head, unexpectedly wishing that she was flat on her back with him buried deep inside her as she screamed those words.

But he’d made sure not to get there, hadn’t he, avoiding being alone with her.

And yet here he was.

Alone.

Also, with her wrapped around him like a pretzel, breathing roughly in his ear, panting, using words like don’t stop, he was having a hard time keeping his mind out of her pants. He hit the gas harder and they flew toward a snow-filled ravine, heading for another sharp downhill that he knew would make her scream even louder.

Apparently, he wasn’t just a bastard, he was a sick bastard.

“I’m not afraid!”

He knew those words she shouted were for her. The joy in them was unmistakable, so he didn’t slow or hold back, but let her experience the full speed of the run.

Given the decibel level of her voice, she liked it, and he found himself grinning.

Grinning.

When was the last time he’d pushed himself past his own fears? Hell, up until a year ago, he hadn’t had any fears at all, and since the accident…Well, he sure as hell hadn’t pushed himself in any way at all. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt exhilarated, excited, the last time he’d had fun. These days, riding was nothing but a mode of transportation when the roads weren’t plowed, when he had to get from one excursion site to another quickly, or when any one of the others needed assistance.

But with Katie’s breathless laughter spurring him on in his ear, things were different. He was smiling. Laughing. And his body…Well, his body was sure as hell telling him loud and clear that there was going to be something about this woman.

Something far more than expected.

Instead of going there, he took them over the land, making sharp turns so that she squeezed him tighter, hitting the gas so that she squeezed her legs around his, basically doing everything in his power to give her the ride of her life.

But the joke was on him, because she ended up giving him the ride of his life, and he drove for far longer than he’d intended, incredibly aware of her body plastered to his back, of the sweet heat of her arms wrapped so securely around him. When he finally stopped at the top of Widow’s Peak, he shifted to give her a look of the valley far below.

The mountains were covered in snow, looking deceptively soft. But anyone who’d ever lived on these rugged peaks knew the truth-it was the opposite. No softness anywhere; only harsh, tough landscape.

It took a tough person to live here. He should know. He’d grown up only miles from here, under the mean, drunk gaze of a father who hadn’t given a shit. Cam didn’t blame the land.

Actually, he loved the land.

Because it’d been here he’d had the world laid at his feet by his one lone talent, along with all the fame and celebrity that went with it. Yeah, he loved the land. The land had saved his sorry ass.

Katie stared out at the view and sighed. “It’s gorgeous. Who owns all that?”

“Once upon a time, a Wilder. The Wild Wilder, they called him. My great, great, great grandfather.” He shrugged. “Legend has it that he shot more men than Jesse James. And as the apple never falls far from the tree, most of the Wilder men who came along after that weren’t much better, ending up in jail or six feet under.”

“Quite the legacy.”

“Cam, T.J., and I grew up as wild as our name implies, happily doing our part of living up to it.”

“And yet you’re not in jail or six feet under.”

“Not for lack of trying, believe me.”

She’d craned her neck so that she could peek over his shoulder at him. “You’re referring to your accident.”

“For one, yeah.”

“It changed your life.” It was a statement, but also, he knew, a question, and she watched him very carefully, telling him how important his answer was to her.

He had a glib answer on his tongue, but he couldn’t give it to her. Not with that look on her face. “It changed everything.”

“As in it gave you the perspective to make some life changes?”

“As in it gave me the perspective that I’m screwed.”

She pulled back slightly, as if so greatly let down by him she couldn’t touch him. And though he rarely gave a shit what people thought, he found himself giving a shit now. “It’s different for us, Katie. I lost what I was living for and you found it.”

“You lived for racing?”

Yeah. Hell yeah. But hearing it from her lips didn’t sound so good. “Well, not anymore.”

“What do you live for now?”

He let out a breath, not wanting to make this worse, to make her even more disheartened by him, but he had nothing. “It hasn’t been that long.”

She nodded, letting him have the fantasy that he was doing fine. But he wasn’t, and for the very first time, he wondered what it would take to change that.

A new dream. That’s what it would take. Too bad he was fresh out. He hit the gas again, and with a gasp, she gripped him tight.

Which worked for him. Because at these speeds, there was no brooding, no pouting, no rehashing bad shit. Plus, he loved listening to her gasp and laugh as he raced them over the land. It made him smile in spite of himself, and he was still doing so when he finally pulled up in front of the lodge. When he turned off the engine, Katie stayed still a long moment, hugging him.

He figured she’d be distant now, but apparently she didn’t work that way.

“We didn’t flip,” she said against his ear.

His eyes drifted shut. “I would never have flipped us.”

“I know. But fears aren’t always logical. God, Cam, that was good. I don’t feel sick at all.” She pushed her face over his shoulder. “Am I green?”

He looked into her eyes. “No.”

She smiled, pulled off the helmet, and straightened her glasses. “I didn’t have even an inkling of a panic attack.”

“You do have helmet hair, though.”

She laughed. Putting her hand on his shoulder, she looked into his face. “I have to go back to work, but thank you. Seriously, you made my day.”

“It was just a ride.”

She looked at him for another breath, and he wondered what she saw. “It was more for me. Thank you.” Leaning in, she pressed her lips to his jaw. “Thank you…” She pulled back only a fraction and shifted her aim so that now her lips touched his once, softly.

Sweetly.

“Thank you so much,” she whispered again as an unnamed raw emotion surged up from his chest so fast he got dizzy.

“I really needed that. The ride,” she defined. “Not the kiss.” She smiled. “Well, I needed both. Both were great, actually.”

She had this incredible way of slicing through all the unnecessary bullshit. She had a way of looking at him, as if she didn’t care about anything but this very moment-not his past, not his future, or lack of one. Nothing. It felt…good. Too good, and he needed another moment of it. Of her.

No regrets…“Goldilocks?”

“Yes?”

“I have a thank you too.”

“You do? For what?”

Reaching for one of her hands, he tugged her over his shoulder, pulling her onto his lap. Then he kissed her.

Not sweetly.

Not even close.

This time there was tongue, lots of tongue, and he was gone, diving headfirst into the hottest, deepest, wettest, most perfect kiss in recent memory.

Hell, most perfect kiss ever, in all the damn land.

He told himself that was because it’d been so long since he’d been with a woman, but the lingering doubt was enough to have him going still. He opened his eyes to look into hers, his thumbs gently brushing either side of her jaw as she let out a soft, sexy little sigh.

He knew just what she meant, and shoving all his reservations to the back of his brain under Not Important Now, he tugged her closer and kissed her again. He half expected her to stop him because he knew that she’d only meant that first sweet kiss as a quick thank you, but her hands were running over his chest, his shoulders, into his hair, then back to his chest, as if she couldn’t get enough either.

And then they slipped down to his belly.

Oh yeah, baby, go there.

Go as low as you want-

She broke off the kiss this time, mouth trembling and still wet from his, breath laboring in and out of her lungs as she stared at him.

He stared back, one hand in her hair, the other palming a sweet, full, warm breast.

“I got a little carried away with that thank you,” she whispered, shuddering when his thumb rasped over her erect nipple. Then she seemed to suddenly notice where her hands were-fisted in the waistband of his pants-and she jerked them back, staring down at her front-row view of him straining against the button fly of his Levi’s. “Um.”

Yeah. Um. Much slower to retrieve his hands than she’d been, he took a deep, steadying breath because she wasn’t the only one reeling. “That might have been me who got carried away. Do I need to apologize?”

“No.” She lifted her shaking fingers to her mouth. “No. Was that…” Her face went a little pink. “I’m sorry. I need to know.”

He automatically tensed, but she just blushed a little more. “I was wondering, was that wow for you, because that was pretty wow for me, and I just-” Her hand fluttered in the air. “It’s been so long-I don’t know. Was it? For you?”

Her eyes were so clear, so deep he could see all the way into her heart, which was far, far, far too pure for him.

“Oh.” Her smile faded. “Gotcha.” She hopped off of him and quickly turned away. “Okay, well, thanks again for the ride-”

He caught her hand just in time. Tugging her back around to face him, he waited until she looked into his eyes.

Christ, she slayed him. Slayed him dead. “Katie.” His voice was a little thick, his heart hammering, and he was still a whole lot hard. “It was pretty damn wow.”

She hesitated, clearly not sure whether to believe him.

“A mind-staggering wow,” he clarified.

At that, her smile warmed again and absolutely stopped his poor, confused heart.

“I thought so.” And with that, she squeezed his hand and walked away, not asking him for anything more.

Or expecting it.