The car pulled up in front of the dark cabin. The white glow of the moon reflecting off newly fallen snow highlighted the isolation of the log home set at the foot of the mountain. It was perfect. Remote. Comfortable. And it was theirs for the weekend. No work. No pets. Nothing to distract them from each other.
The uncharacteristic shyness that had been plaguing her the entire four-hour trip came back in spades as Marc switched off the carâs engine. Which was absolutely ridiculous. Theyâd planned this weekend for a month. Nothing was going to happen here that either of them hadnât eagerly anticipated, but now that it was time for the planning to give birth to fantasy, she was shy to the point of blushing. She, the woman who never blushed, never embarrassed. Never lost control.
Becky pretended an interest in the scenery as the driverâs side door opened. Marcâs gaze slid over her like a touch, poking at her insecurities, asking silent questions she didnât want to answer. Anticipation and nerves fluttered in her stomach in a queasy combination. She made her expression blank to hide her discomfort.
Marc sighed. The door creaked open. âWe donât have to do this, you know.â
She kept her voice just as balanced as her expression. âYes, we do.â Because she was so sick of not being who she wanted to be with him.
âThen why the cold shoulder?â
That got her looking at him. He thought she was brushing him off? She took a subtle steadying breath, inhaling the scent of the outdoorsâ¦and Marc. Both were clean, crisp and intangibly tied together in her mind, maybe because theyâd met on a weekend kayak excursion, but more than likely because the man was as elemental as the forest around them.
She unclenched fists she didnât know sheâd been clenching. Good grief! No wonder he was asking questions. She looked more ready to go into battle than indulge in a romantic weekend. Becky shook her head at her own idiocy, her hair swishing around her shoulders with the movement. She brushed a strand away from her mouth. âBelieve it or not, Iâm nervous.â
âWhy?â
He didnât try to make eye contact again, which was good. If sheâd looked at him, pride would have demanded she lie. âBecause Iâm afraid I might not live up to your expectations.â
The back of his fingers brushed down the side of her cheek. His low chuckle still sent a shiver down her spine the way it had the first time sheâd heard it. Not for the first time she wondered what attracted him to her. He was as sexy and as uninhibited as a man could get, and she had more inhibitions thanâ¦well, than anyone needed.
âBaby, weâve been married for two years â do you really think I donât know what youâre capable of?â
She looked at him then, taking in the amusement and understanding in his gaze. He was so sure this wasnât going to be a disaster. âNeither of us knows that.â
His smile was a slow, sexy stretch of the lips sheâd seen many times before. Masculine. Knowing. And confident. He was always so confident. âI know.â
She clung to that confidence as his hand skimmed her neck, her shoulder, then her thigh. A pat on her knee followed by a quick squeeze and then he was out of the car, leaving her alone with her hopes, fears, and that borrowed bravado. Crisp night air swept in on his exit and she jumped as the door thudded shut.
She shook her head at her own cowardice. Theyâd devoted this weekend to obliterating the inhibitions between them. Inhibitions neither wanted. Becky slung her purse over her shoulder, watching in the rear view mirror as Marc walked around the back, a tall muscular silhouette cast in moonlight. Cowering in the car wasnât an impressive start on her side.
She yanked the latch and shoved the door open. Snow crunched beneath her feet as she stood and stretched. The night sky expanded before her, a satiny carpet of black speckled with shining stars and dotted with glowing planets. She took a deep breath of the frigid air, shivering as it bit into her lungs.
A cloud wafted across the moonlit sky. She released her breath, watching the frozen vapor rise until it seemed to meld with that wispy traveler, becoming more than what it was, and yet still less than it would be. For a minute more, she watched the cloud skate along, free and unfettered, and then smiled as, with absolute certainty, she knew everything was going to be all right. There was nothing she and he couldnât do. Nothing they couldnât accomplish. Not together. Together, they were like that cloud. More than what they had been before, yet ever growing with boundless potential. She just had to stop being afraid to let go.
Anticipation skittered through her veins as she walked around the back of the car. The view here was as interesting as the night sky, seeing as Marc was stretched forward, retrieving a suitcase. The man had the body of a runner, roped with lean, hard muscle. She slid her hands up the side of his thighs, smiling as taut muscle flexed under her touch, gliding them up over his narrow hips, under his jacket, around his waist.
