Charlene Sands - Playboy's Ruthless Payback

“Only if you keep making me roll down the window. Now, go in. You’re the one who’s going to freeze in that getup, and I refuse to be responsible for your getting pneumonia or hypothermia or something.”

“You’re acting like a child. Come inside.”

“I’m not acting any way. I’m being sensible. It’s not a good idea for me to go back in there tonight. Things got too heated earlier.”

“True, but I think we could use a little more heat in that house.”

“It’s too cold for jokes.” She sighed. She just wanted to get home, into the tub and have a hot soak, maybe watch a few reruns of Sex and the City .

But that wasn’t going to happen.

“It’s your choice,” he said, his teeth chattering now. “Nice warm fire or freeze in the car.”

She heaved a sigh. “Fine. I’ll come inside…but I’m going to call for a tow truck.”

He helped her out of the car, and she followed him through the drifts of snow to the walkway, then up to the front door.

“If the tow truck can’t get to you tonight,” Mac said as he opened the door, “you are welcome to stay in my room.”

She stopped inside the entryway. She wanted to scowl at him, but instead she laughed. “Are you insane?”

“Actually I thought I was being pretty gentlemanly.” He turned back and grinned. “And that’s a rare thing for me.”

“Can I use your phone? My cell doesn’t work very well in here.”

“Sure.” He took her coat and hung it up, then covered her hands with his and slipped off her gloves. A shot of awareness moved through Olivia, from the hair on her scalp to the backs of her knees, and she looked up to find him watching her, his dark eyes intense. He took off her gloves so slowly it made her belly knot with tension, and when her fingers were finally released from the warm leather, he took her hands and squeezed them into his cold palms.

“You’re freezing,” she said.

“And you’re warm.” His fingers laced with hers, and her muscles tensed. “I don’t think I’m going to let go.”

Sadly, she didn’t want him to, but she wasn’t about to give in to herself or to him. He was using her, and she’d allowed herself to be used too often in the past.

Olivia pulled her hands away. “I’m going to make that call now.”

“You’re not getting your car out tonight, Liv,” Mac said evenly. “Now I’m going to be bunking in one of the leather chairs by the fire since all the rest of the bedrooms haven’t been furnished yet, so if you do stay, take my bed—or don’t take it. Either way, I won’t bother you.”

She didn’t know if she believed him, but what could she do? She needed the shelter for tonight. “Thank you.”

He nodded. “Good night.” Then he walked in the direction of the den.

Six

The guy at the first tow truck company hung up on her, the guy at the second tow truck company actually laughed when she’d asked if he could come out and excavate her car, and her third call had gone straight to a machine.

Olivia had known it would be somewhat of a long shot to get home tonight, but after the way her body had reacted to Mac’s touch earlier—a very simple, not that overtly sexual a touch—she was really hoping.

She sat on the edge of Mac’s king-sized bed, her shoulders drooping forward. She was tired and cold, and disappointed in herself for caving in and taking his room. A better woman might have stuck to her guns about not bunking in Mac’s sparse, octagon-shaped room, maybe grabbing a few extralong towels from his bathroom and cuddling up on the carpeted floor of one of the empty guest rooms. But she was a wimp that way. She liked her creature comforts. She’d always wondered about people who liked camping. Strange noises and bugs for bunkmates…what was the attraction? Anyway, she was sleeping in Mac’s bed tonight. She just hoped he’d keep his word and wouldn’t venture out of the den to find her.

She pulled the comforter off the bed and wrapped it around herself. Then again, why would he leave such a lovely, warm spot by the fire? Olivia blew out a puff of air to see if she could see her breath. It was cold as hell in Mac’s house, a ridiculous kind of cold that sank deep into your bones and could only be relieved by a hot bath. She didn’t know what that handyman did around here, but first thing tomorrow, she was calling in a professional heating technician. Forget all the warm, family friendly furnishings. If the house felt like an igloo, the DeBolds were going to head straight for the nearest five-star hotel.

Olivia thought about lying down and trying to sleep, but when nature called, she threw off the comforter and dashed into the master bathroom. And there she saw it—surrounded by beautiful pale brown tumbled stone was a massive box of glass with a rain showerhead above and four body sprayers along one wall. Oh, she wanted to cry it looked so inviting.

Did she dare? Maybe just a quick one? Just to get warm.

Feeling a sudden burst of happiness at the thought, she flipped on the water and turned the temperature knob to the equivalent of “hotter-than-hell.” After closing the door to keep all the beautiful heat contained, she got undressed. She was just about to step inside the shower when she heard a knock on the bedroom door.

Her heart dropped into her stomach. No, no, no. Not now. Why was he here? Did he have radar or a sixth sense that told him when there was a naked woman in his room or something?

She snatched a huge white bath sheet and wrapped herself in it, then she opened the door and walked out into the frigid air.

He was knocking again. “Olivia?”

She opened the door just wide enough to accommodate her head, but hid the rest of her from his view. “Yes?”

“So you took the room?”

“Yes. I took the room. Can we not make a big deal out of it?”

“Of course.” He grinned. “Are you okay?”

“Fine. Just tired.” And cold . “What’s up?”

He didn’t look convinced. In fact, he was trying to assess the situation as he spoke. “I put a frozen pizza in the oven if you’re interested.”

She shook her head. “Thanks, but I’m not very hungry. Just tired. Very, very tired.”

“All right. Good night, then.” Olivia thought that he was about to leave, that she was about to finally get warm, but then he paused and cocked his head to one side. “What’s that?”

“What’s what?” she asked innocently, as if she didn’t know.

“Is that water running?”

“No.”

His mouth twitched. “Are you taking a shower?”

“Not at this precise moment,” she said with irritation, which caused him to grin, full-on and slightly roguishly.

“Taking advantage of my steam shower, are you?”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, for God’s sake.”

“Hey, I don’t blame you, the thing is awesome.”

“Well, good…then I’m going to go—”

“Have all the towels you need?” he asked.

“Yes.”

She looked expectantly at him. Time to leave, Mr. Valentine. What more was there to say? After all, he’d humiliated and humbled her, what could be left? But he didn’t leave, he just stood there looking sexy in his black sweater and pants.

Olivia let out a frustrated breath. “I’m freezing, okay? I need a way to warm up.”

His grin widened, his gaze dropped. “No, too easy.”

“Good night, Mac,” she said through gritted teeth. “Enjoy your pizza.”

He chuckled and pushed away from the door frame. “All right. Enjoy your shower. But,” he said as he turned to walk away, “if you find that you can’t sleep or you get hungry, you know where to find me.”

“That, I can promise you,” she called after him, “will never happen.”