His eyes darkened, but she did her best to ignore it. Or pretend to ignore it. There was a good chance it was her overactive imagination. The hours of travel and the stress of the situation was starting to get to her. Her full belly and the two glasses of wine didn’t help. When she started up the stairs, he followed her. She tried to ignore the fact that he was getting an eyeful of her rear end. Slowly, they walked up the stairs.

  “I guess this is good night,” he said.

  There was something in his voice that she couldn’t seem to figure out. His tone had warmed and deepened. She was too tired to even worry about it at this point. She glanced at him. He was watching her with an intensity that made her curl her toes inside of her shoes. The man was lethal and he was barely trying.

  “Good night, Trevor.”

  “Night, Lainey.”

  Nodding, she slipped into her room and shut the door. Leaning against it, she closed her eyes and tried to think of something, anything, to get her mind off that man. The sound of his voice rolling over her name did funny things to her. Every part of her throbbed, ached to be touched. She knew he wasn’t that interested in her, but it didn’t keep her from remembering that kiss.

  With a sigh, she decided a shower would be in order. It would get her mind off Trevor.

  Hopefully.

  Chapter Three

  The wind rattled the windows, waking Elaine out of a deep sleep. She opened her eyes and frowned at the vision that appeared. There was a wood log wall in front of her, and the air had a crisp, cool feel to it. Her loft was bright, with lots of windows that created a feeling of being in an open space. This was wrong.

  It only took a second or two for her head to catch up with her situation. The events from the day before came rushing back to her. She closed her eyes then opened them again. Nope, she was remembering correctly.

  Elaine sat up, stretching her arms overhead. She winced. Her body hurt. The day of travel had been hard on her, and though she’d slept, it hadn’t been restful. New places were hard for her. She slipped out of bed and looked out over the area. It was probably one of the prettiest things she had ever seen, as if someone had taken a picture from a postcard and planted it outside of her window. It took her breath away, which was saying a lot. She had lived and worked in Paris for several years.

  What she needed was to clear her head. A quick hot shower should do it. She grabbed her clothes for the day and headed to the bathroom. Lord knew the cold shower the night before had done not a bit of good. After looking through her toiletry bag, she realized she was missing her straightener. Dammit.

  She rummaged around the bathroom looking for a hair dryer but considering Mick’s bald head, there was a good chance he didn’t have one. She could wake Trevor up to see if he had one in his room, but she wanted to avoid him as much as possible. She glanced down at her pink flannel pajamas. It would also mean getting dressed. There was no way she would walk down the hall wearing her frumpy PJs and knock on his door. She was going to smack Mick upside the head. Her frumpy bed attire was definitely his fault. Of course, it wasn’t like she had a lot of lingerie in her dresser drawers back in Atlanta.

  Elaine sighed and looked at the tangle of gold curls. She would just have to deal with curly hair for a day. Less than fifteen minutes later, she was ready to take on the day. She knew Trevor wasn’t up; he was a late riser. Mick had given her strict orders never to call Trevor before eleven in the morning. Elaine was a woman who liked to start the day before the sun was up. It was just another issue between the two of them. He would roll out of bed, show up at work, and she would have already put in half a day’s work.

  She went downstairs and found that Mick had stocked her favorite coffee. After starting that to brew, she looked through the pantry and decided to make some kind of a breakfast for them. She owed Trevor for dinner the night before, especially since he’d made one of her favorite dishes.

  After retrieving all the ingredients, she poured herself a cup of coffee and glanced out the window again. It was actually darker now. It was odd that even though there was snow aplenty, it seemed ominous. Snow always seemed so…soft and beautiful. She’d never dealt with a blizzard before. A shiver of panic slipped down her spine. What happened if they lost power, or if they got stuck here for days on end?

  She dialed Harold’s number but the voicemail picked up after a few rings. She left a message asking about the weather, then tried to pace off the nervous energy caused by the storm—not to mention by the man upstairs. She needed to work, to do something, or she would start thinking about things. She glanced up at the landing. Trevor’s door was firmly shut. So, she did what came natural.

  She baked.

  …

  Trev woke to sweetness.

  Sugary delights tickled his nose as he cracked one eye open. Usually, he didn’t mind waking up to a little sweet eats, but when he looked around he remembered why he felt like hell. Damn. He was in Canada with a woman who drove him insane both mentally and physically. Mick was a dead man.

  Trev knew he needed a different tactic. They were partners. For the sake of their very successful restaurant, he could offer the proverbial olive branch. His attraction to her was not her fault. The fact that both of them seemed to have an opposite way of doing every little thing in the kitchen was not her fault. For the sake of the business, and for the sake of his mental state, he decided to try his best to be friendly. Maybe they could get to know each other better. Trev always worked better if he understood the other person’s motives.

  With that thought in his mind, he rose out of bed and stretched his hands over of his head. He felt like crap, his muscles aching from the twisting and turning he’d been doing most of the night. Of course, once he’d finally fallen asleep he’d had dreams of Lainey…mainly a naked Lainey. He never knew he had fantasies about kitchen sex before meeting her. Most people probably wouldn’t believe him, but it was true. Now, though, his daydreams involved Lainey in the kitchen in nothing but an apron. Oh, the things he could do in there with her.

  As soon as most of the fog in his head dissipated, he realized he hadn’t been just dreaming of sweet food to eat. Bloody hell, she was baking something. His mouth watered at the thought. He had a thing for sweets. He was never very good at baking them, so he was always looking for something new to eat from someone else. He knew that was part of his attraction to Lainey—she was a goddess of sugar.

  As he dressed, he thought about his fascination for the woman. There was something there. He’d thought she was all ice, but last night when they had kissed she had melted in his arms. He could just imagine what it would feel like to unleash that passion with her beneath him.

  He shook his head. Thinking about that would only get him in trouble. Major trouble.

  The scent of sugary goodness pulled him out of his room and down the stairs. Lainey was so intent on her task she didn’t hear him. That or she was ignoring him. Either way, he used the time to study her as she worked. She was dressed in a soft blue sweater and a pair of jeans. Her normally tamed hair was a tumble of golden curls. He had never seen her with her hair so…well, crazy. He wanted to touch it, to see how soft it was. Hell, he wanted to thread his fingers through it as she kissed her way down his…

  Damn.

  Trev shoved his hands in his pockets to keep from reaching out. She had bread laid out. Oh, lord, she was making her custard-based French toast.

  “Morning,” he said.

  She jumped at the sound of his voice. He realized she really hadn’t heard him as he walked down the stairs. It was one of the many things the two of them shared. The entire world faded away when they were cooking. Although, when it came to her, he always seemed to be able to tell when she was around.

  “Morning.”

  “Are you always this early of a riser?” he asked as he took a seat at the breakfast bar.

  She nodded and grabbed a cup to pour him some coffee. “Black, right?”

  He nodded and sipped. “Ah, Kona coffee.”

  “My favorite. Mick knows that.”

  “Indeed.” For the first time, he wondered about his two business partners, and if they shared anything else other than the business. They seemed to know a lot about each other. Hell, they even knew each other’s sleeping habits. Mick had told him more than once that she was an early riser.

  “What?” she asked.

  “What do you mean, what?”

  She shrugged. “You’re frowning at me as if I did something wrong.”

  He shook his head. “Just wondering how Mick knows about your love of Kona coffee.”

  She shrugged and dipped some bread in the custard. “We talk a lot, always have. We come from similar backgrounds. I became enamored with the idea of going to Hawaii, and he introduced me to Kona coffee.”

  “How do a Southern Belle and a poor kid from Dublin have similar backgrounds?”

  She glanced up at him then down at her work. It was a look he knew well. She guarded secrets from him…and he hated it. It was irrational because they were not friends, or even friendly. It bothered him on some level he didn’t seem to understand. She kept so much of her life private from everyone—except for Mick. Trev’s old friend seemed to know her favorite coffee, her sleeping habits, and where she lived.

  “I think you have the wrong idea about me,” she said, breaking into his thoughts.

  It took him a moment to discern what she was talking about. “What does that mean?”

  “I didn’t grow up with money like you. I’m like Mick.”

  But that wasn’t all. There was something else that made them similar. Mick was a man who enjoyed the finer things in life, but he hadn’t started out that way. He’d been living on the streets by the age of fifteen. Did she mean she had been homeless? He found himself more interested by the minute. He knew she hid a lot from the world and there was part of him that wanted to know exactly what made her tick.

  “I tried calling Harold, but I haven’t been able to get through. And it seems kind of ominous out there.”

  He knew she was changing the subject on purpose. Normally, he would have pushed her. Other women, he charmed. For some reason he felt the need to prod her whenever he had a chance. It was a sickness and the only thing keeping him sane. If he didn’t keep her at a distance, he was pretty sure he could talk her into bed. That would be a mistake—a very wonderful, fantastic mistake, but a mistake nonetheless.

  Since she was cooking his favorite dish for breakfast, he let it go. There wasn’t much he wouldn’t do to get her custard French toast. He glanced out the window. He expected to brush off what she’d said about the weather, but it did look bad. The sky was dark gray and the wind was crazy, bending the trees back and forth. The snow was coming down pretty hard.

  “Have you checked the weather?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “There’s a storm moving in, but last I heard it was going to miss this area.”

  “Where did you hear that?”

  “Harold.”

  “Harold the serial killer?”

  Her face turned pink, and he couldn’t help but smile. The woman was attractive, but there was something so sweet about the way she blushed. And sexy—very, very sexy. “Yes, well, he said that the forecast was for snow, but just an inch.”

  There was more than that on the ground already, from Trev’s calculations. Before he could say that, the phone rang. He grabbed it. “Yes?”

  “Morning, there, Mr. Mac. I wanted to warn you of the storm.”

  Trev almost laughed, but he didn’t want to alarm Lainey.

  “That’s good of you.”

  Harold started to ramble on about things. Trev let the older man’s voice fade into the background as he watched Lainey work. He studied her hands. They were slender but he knew they were strong. In their line of work one tended to build up some major muscles in their hands. He could only imagine the feel of her palms as they smoothed over his flesh. Trev’s mind went further, thinking of those fingers wrapping round his cock as Lainey kissed her way down his body.

  Harold’s voice brought him back to earth, but Trev had missed most of what he said.

  “What?”

  “I said there’s a generator behind the house. Do you know how to work one?”

  She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, concentrating on her task. She was killing him by small degrees. Worse, her hair was a mess of curls today. It wasn’t a look he was used to. Seeing all the curly hair had his imagination running wild. Every fiber of his being urged him to lean forward and kiss her. To taste that lip, pull it into his mouth. Then, Harold said something that brought his attention back to the conversation again.

  “Wait, what? Work what?”

  “The generator.”

  “Why would I need that?”

  “Aren’t you paying attention? I said there’s a storm coming.”

  Finally, Trev focused on the conversation. “Storm?”

  Lainey looked up at him.

  “Yes. They said we’ll have two to three feet. It won’t cause major problems for us around here because it’s supposed to dump the snow then move on, but it will be kind of bad today. Electricity might go out, and I want to know if you understand how to handle a generator.”

  “A generator? Why would I know anything about them?”

  “Give me the phone,” Lainey said, then took it out of his hands without waiting for him to offer it to her.

  “Yes, Harold, I understand. I can handle a generator. Yes. It’s behind the house?”

  She was quiet for a few seconds as she listened. “I’m sure we’ll be fine. Thank you for the warning.” She clicked the phone off and set it in its cradle. “So.”

  “Yeah, so.”

  She crossed her arms. “Another day at least. Every flight has been cancelled for the next twelve hours.”

  “Harold said it would only be a couple of feet of snow.”

  “Only.” A tinge of panic colored her voice. Lainey drew in a deep breath and seemed to gather herself. She glanced outside, then back at him. “We really need to talk about hiring a hit man for Mick.”

  Chapter Four

  Elaine dropped the spatula for a third time. She drew in a deep breath and tried her best to get her worry under control. It wasn’t easy. Terror tickled the back of her throat. Trev kept tossing her worried looks as she cleared her throat again. It was the only way she could keep from losing it. No matter how many times she swallowed, the tickle remained. It took every bit of her control to suppress the scream that threatened to escape. She could not have that, especially in front of Trevor.

  It went against her belief that showing the enemy your weaknesses made you an easy target. That was something she learned early in life thanks to one particular fellow foster kid. He’d been a nightmare and had used her fears against her. He had taken particular joy in terrorizing them all.

  She shook away that thought and the memories that came with it as she plated the French toast. She picked up the dishes and, with a glance out the window, she walked to the table. The storm had her freaking out. Well, not completely freaking out, but pretty damned close. Every time the window rattled she had to fight the urge to run up the stairs and hide under her covers.

  Elaine drew in a deep breath. Until she looked up, she didn’t realize that Trevor was so close to her. Dammit, she wouldn’t back up and let him know exactly how much his closeness bothered her. Worse, she saw sympathy in his gaze.

  “Don’t worry. The weather will clear up, and we’ll be fine.”

  It was close to pity, and it made her feel worse than the panic. She tried to play it light and offered him a smile. “Or Harold will kill us.”

  For a second he stared at her with the strangest look on his face. The silence lengthened, the only sounds the pop and crackle of the fire and the wind hitting the windows. Finally she couldn’t take it anymore.

  “What?” she asked, keeping her hands busy as she tried to ignore the attention he was giving her.

  “I never knew you had such a strange sense of humor.”

  She shrugged and set the plates down on the table. He followed her over and stood by the same seat he’d occupied for dinner the night before. He waited for her to sit down, then he did the same.

  “Do you have nothing to say to that?”

  She looked at him. “What? I guess a lot of people don’t know about my sense of humor. Maybe just Mick.”

  Elaine thought she heard him mutter something beneath his breath, but she didn’t exactly catch it. Apparently he didn’t want to share it with her. Instead, he leaned down to his plate and drew in a deep breath. Without lifting his head, he looked up at her. The breath caught in the back of her throat when he smiled. She had seen him look at women like that before. It was always a prelude to a seduction. She had scoffed at it before, but now she felt the power of it.

  “I cannot tell you how much I have been looking forward to this again.”

  “Again?” she asked, embarrassed that she could hear the hint of arousal sliding through her tones. When did seeing a man sniff her food become a turn on? When Trevor was doing it, that’s when. When an attractive man looked at you like you were a goddess, it was hard not to get aroused.

  He straightened and grabbed the maple syrup. “Remember that morning after we worked all night?”

  Their opening night. They had all been so high on success. All the months of work had paid off, and they’d been too wired to go home. They were all single, so they had no one waiting for them. Instead, they’d stayed all night celebrating, and she had made French toast some time around three in the morning. Trevor had devoured every bit. She had never seen a grown man who ate with such delight. It had warmed her heart. She cooked every day for strangers. Doing it for someone you knew, and yes, cared about, was different. It was more intimate.

  When she realized he was staring at her, she reminded herself to keep it light. “Oh. I didn’t know if you remembered that.”