Elizabeth August - The Bride's Second Thought

“I can’t believe you’re defending him! Do you men always stick so close together?”

Peter frowned. “I’m not defending him. I just think that since you obviously care a great deal for him, you should consider all the possibilities.”

“Cared. Past tense,” she corrected.

How much he wanted to believe her, stunned him. If you do, you’re a fool, he warned himself. “If you don’t still care, then why are you so upset?” he asked. “Because I feel humiliated! Duped! Made a fool of!”

He wasn’t convinced. “I think you should relax and get some sleep. Once you’re rested, you’ll be able to think clearer.”

Ellen stared into the fire. “Maybe I don’t want to think clearer. My mother didn’t say so, but I know she’s worried I’ll never find anyone to marry if I don’t marry Charles, and maybe that same fear is lurking down deep inside of me. It might convince me to overlook Charles’s indiscretion, even if I’m not totally convinced he would remain faithful once we were married.” Her jaw tensed. “I don’t want to be married to a man I can’t trust.”

“It could be that he’ll realize how much he cares for you and never stray again,” Peter said.

Ellen breathed a tired sigh. “Maybe.” Having revealed a great deal more about herself than she’d wanted to, she fell silent.

The man would be a fool if he didn’t, Peter thought. Sensing their conversation had reached its end, he returned his attention to his book. This time, telling himself that his guest was still in love with her fiancé and therefore totally off-limits to any further lustful thoughts, he ordered himself to concentrate on his research.

Rounding the couch, Ellen sat down and stared into the fire. Bane had woken during the exchange between her and Peter. Now, out of the corner of her eye, she saw that he’d gone back to sleep. That he’d shown no reaction to her display of anger caused her to realize that the wolf had accepted her as a nonthreatening entity. That, at least, was a relief.

Still, she remained tense as, uninvited, her host’s image filled her mind. She recalled her sudden, very strong, totally surprising attraction for the bearded man. Obviously she was experiencing some sort of rebound reflex, she decided. She’d never thought of herself as the kind of woman whose emotions could bounce so radically, but then, she’d had a shock, catching Charles with Janet and been terrified, thinking that she might freeze to death or be eaten by wolves. It was only natural her emotions were a little out of control.

Also, she had to admit that Peter wasn’t bad looking in a caveman sort of way. On top of that, he’d saved her life. It was only natural, she’d feel a certain affinity toward him. Just don’t go thinking what you’re feeling is anything more than gratitude, she warned herself. She had enough trouble ahead, sorting out her feelings about Charles. She didn’t need to confuse the issue with a rebound attraction to a stranger.

Having had this little talk with herself and confident she had her emotions reined in, she still found herself being curious about her host. “What do you do when you aren’t cabin- and wolf-sitting for a friend?”

Silently Peter groaned. He’d been trying to ignore her, but it was obvious she wasn’t going to make that easy. He looked up.

She read the impatience in his eyes and felt like a nuisance. “Never mind,” she said with apology. “It’s none of my business.”

He knew he’d behaved impolitely. But she was a strain on his control. “I travel a lot. I’m a geologist. I go where my work and interests take me,” he informed her, then returned his attention to his book, letting her know he considered this exchange over.

And you’re not inclined to talk about yourself, she added mentally. Respecting his right to privacy, she closed her eyes and leaned her head back on the couch. The image of her and her host climbing a mountain together began to play through her mind. Scowling, she opened her eyes and glared at the wall above the mantel. Her emotions were in turmoil, and now her mind was traveling absurd paths! Peter was right. She needed some sleep.

“I’m going to bed,” she announced, abruptly rising. “Good night and thank you for your hospitality.”

Peter read and stoked the fire while he waited for his guest to settle in for the night. It wasn’t until she’d finished in the bathroom, entered the bedroom and closed the door that he relaxed.

Reaching down, he scratched Bane’s neck. “Jack always says you have a nose for trouble. He’s right. The sooner we send Miss Reese on her way, the better.”

After closing and locking the bedroom door, Ellen climbed into the bed. From the next room she could hear her host muttering something and guessed he was talking to the wolf. He’s probably making a joke about my stupidity, she mused. She couldn’t fault him. She had behaved stupidly. If she’d wanted to cross a border, she should have headed for Mexico.

The wind buffeted the cabin. As she snuggled farther under the fluffy down comforter, the phrase “snug as a bug in a rug” ran through her head. Clearly she was still in shock from the discovery of Charles with Janet. She was a prisoner of the storm, trapped in a cabin, seemingly in the middle of nowhere, with a stranger and a wolf for companions. There should be nothing comforting or snug about that.

Too tired to ponder this curious course of emotions, she closed her eyes and immediately drifted to sleep.

Chapter Three

Ellen woke to the smell of bacon frying. Recalling that she’d not only told her host the embarrassing details of her breakup with Charles, she’d even told him about her mother’s fear of her becoming a spinster, she groaned and buried her face in the pillow. The thought of hiding out in the bedroom for a while longer appealed to her. Unfortunately hunger and the call of nature thwarted that plan. Dressing quickly, she ran a brush through her hair. The thick mass of brown tresses had a touch of natural curl and were cut into a short, easily managed style. Usually, she wet any wayward strands then blow-dried them into submission. This morning she ignored the fact that one side was flattened, while a patch of hair toward the back of the top wanted to stick out. She also opted to forgo any makeup.

Impressing her host was not at the top of her list of priorities. Getting her car unstuck and heading back to Boston was.

“Morning,” she said as she left her room and walked briskly to the bathroom.

“Morning,” Peter returned, keeping his back to her and continuing to watch the food he was preparing.

His tone was polite but cool, and Ellen had the distinct feeling that the sooner she was gone, the better he’d like it. Two minds that travel the same path, she mused, entering the bathroom.

“Hope you like pancakes,” he said when she came out a few minutes later. Without waiting for a response, he set a plate with a stack of three, along with several strips of bacon, on the table at the place she’d occupied the night before. “If you want more, help yourself. There’s more batter in the refrigerator,” he added, heading to the door. “The snow has stopped and the weather is supposed to remain clear for the next few days. I’m going to go see about your car.”

She looked at the pancakes and her mouth watered. But pride rebelled at allowing him to do all the work. “I want to come along.” Abruptly, her stomach grumbled loudly in protest.

He paused in the act of pulling on his coat. Until now, he’d purposely avoided looking at her. She’d drifted in and out of his dreams last night, each time running back to a shadowy figure named Charles. Both his conscious and his subconscious minds were warning him to stay clear of her, and he intended to do just that.