Claiming His Nine-Month Consequence

“Why are you just standing there? Don’t tell me you’re already tired,” Ruby said gleefully.

Ares looked at the beautiful, unexpected woman beside him in the snow. Her cloud of dark hair tumbled beneath her pink hat, knit with a red flower. Behind her, he saw the distant torches of the last skiers, as lovely and mysterious as fairy lights.

He wasn’t tired. At all.

He wanted to kiss her.

He wanted to do far more than kiss her.

Looking at him, Ruby’s expression changed. Her smile slid away. She looked almost...afraid.

“Come on.” Turning on her snowboard, she took off down the hill. She was reckless, jumping moguls. She was a force of nature. Unstoppable.

Ares watched her. He’d possessed many women in his life. He’d taken them as his due. But for the first time, he’d met one who didn’t seem overly impressed either by his money or his appearance. She accepted him—or not—only for himself. For his actions. For his words. For his skills.

He could hardly wait to win her into his bed.

Chasing her, Ares turned the snowboard down and flew.

She reached the bottom of the mountain first. A roaring bonfire crackled in the middle of a snowy field, next to an icy creek. Around it, young people who’d already finished skiing laughed together, holding steaming mugs.

Ares unlatched his snowboard. Lifting his goggles to his ski cap, he straightened, stepping out in the snow in his borrowed boots. Someone he didn’t know handed him a copper mug.

“Here, man. This’ll warm you up.”

Pulling off his gloves, Ares stuffed them in his pockets and took the mug. “Thanks.”

“I’m Gus.” The red-haired man, who had a lumberjack beard, did a double take. “Nice snowsuit.”

Ares scowled, suspecting mockery. But the other man’s eyes were sincere. So he said, “Thank you.”

“Ruby picked that out for you, right? You’re her friend’s cousin or something from up north?”

“Hmm,” Ares said noncommittally. Sniffing cinnamon and clove, he took a tentative sip from the copper mug. He tasted mulled wine, hot and infused with spices. Sighing in pleasure, he took a bigger gulp.

“Right,” Gus said. “That girl has mad skills tracking down vintage stuff. I keep telling her she needs to start that business. All she needs to do is apply for a loan, but she just won’t.”

“A business?” Ares’s eyebrows lifted. He looked down at his outrageous ski suit. “You think people would actually buy outfits like this? On purpose?”

“Oh, yeah, man. Look around.”

He did, and he saw that most of the young people were indeed dressed in funky, offbeat outfits as outlandish as his own.

“Designer gear is for talentless hacks trying to buy their way into the sport.” The red-haired man considered. “Your suit is cool.”

Ares’s gaze fell on Ruby, who was standing on the other side of the bonfire. A broad-shouldered man was talking to her earnestly. “Who’s that with her now?”

The young man nodded toward them. “You know Braden Lassiter is her ex, right? They were engaged until he up and left for the National Hockey League. He plays for New York.”

Ares’s eyes narrowed. “New York?” He strained to remember anything he’d heard about Braden Lassiter, but he didn’t follow ice hockey. But he didn’t like seeing him talking to Ruby. Leaning toward her. “They were engaged?”

“High school sweethearts. Too bad they broke up. If they had a baby, man, that kid would kill it on the slopes, probably win every gold medal.”

Ares stared at them. A moment ago, flying down the mountain, he’d felt exhilarated, even euphoric. Now he felt ice in his solar plexus. What was it? Irritation? Possessiveness? It couldn’t be jealousy. He didn’t do jealousy.

Finishing his drink, Ares handed the mug back. “Thanks again.”

At least he wasn’t the only one who was annoyed. As he walked toward Ruby, he saw Braden Lassiter walking away from her with a scowl on his face. The man paused to stare suspiciously as Ares approached her.

Turning, Ruby saw him. “There you are.”

Ares jerked his chin toward the departing hockey player. “Was he bothering you?”

“Braden?” She rolled her eyes. “His team was playing in Vancouver and he had a free day, so he dropped in for Renegade Night. So of course the second he sees me with someone, he’s suddenly Mr. Twenty Questions, like he thinks he still has some claim over me.”

“You were engaged?”

“Did Gus tell you?” A strange expression crossed her face. “It was a million years ago. When he became an instant millionaire, he disappeared.”

“The bastard.”

“It was a good reminder of what money does to men’s hearts.”

The snow crunched beneath his feet. “And what is that?”

She looked up at him with big, dark eyes that gleamed against the bonfire’s flickering red light. “It makes them selfish. And cold.”

Ares immediately knew the accusation didn’t only include Braden Lassiter. “Or maybe,” he said quietly, “we were always that way from the start, and money just gave us more opportunity.”

She stared at him for a long moment by the crackling fire. Then she sighed, watching as sparks flew up into the dark, cold, starlit sky. “I wish there was no such thing as money.”

Close together in front of the bonfire, he could feel the warmth of the flames against his body. But it was nothing compared to the heat he felt inside as he looked down at her.

“I’m glad there is,” he said. “Because it’s why I’m here with you right now.”

Her lips parted. “I didn’t bring you here for money!”

“I know. But you’d still be working at the bar.” Gently, he stroked down her cheek to caress her lower lip with the tip of his thumb. “I couldn’t have blackmailed you into bringing me here.”

He heard her catch her breath, felt her tremble beneath his touch. So she felt it, too, then. She felt it, too.

“You didn’t exactly...blackmail me.”

Ares looked down at her lovely face, lit up by the firelight. “I didn’t?”

“No,” she admitted, then took a deep breath. “Maybe,” she whispered, “you’re different, too...”

Burning wood crackled in the bonfire as they looked at each other. He heard the burble of the creek, the soft drop of snow falling from pine trees, the wind blowing through the valley.