Suddenly Last Summer

The light wobbled. “But what we do here is not really important?”

“That’s not what I’m saying.”

“You are saying it has to be a person’s life before it matters? Well let me tell you something, Sean O’Neil.” She advanced on him, her green eyes the only color in her pale face. “This place is like a person to me. And the people who live and work here matter more than anything. And if Snow Crystal doesn’t survive, then that will make a huge difference to people’s lives. You might not want to be involved with what is going on here, but don’t ever dismiss it as irrelevant.”

She was wild. Furious. Uncontrolled. She’d also switched to French without realizing it.

He knew her exaggerated response was fallout from the intense emotion of the day. He saw the same thing happen all the time in his working life.

It made perfect sense.

What made less sense was the fact that he wanted to kiss her.

He wanted to slide his fingers into her hair, cover her mouth with his and kiss her until the fire in her eyes turned from anger to passion. He wanted to taste that passion again, feel it slide over his tongue and into his veins.

Disturbed by how badly he wanted to grab her, knowing that the last thing he needed in his life was a romantic entanglement, he stepped back. “I never said it was irrelevant. You’re worried about opening late. I was trying to put it in perspective.”

“Your perspective and mine are different.” She turned and walked away, the beam from the flashlight bouncing angrily across the path.

While he was waiting for his vision to adjust, Sean breathed in the scent of the trees and the water and was immediately transported back to his childhood.

He was back in a place that made him feel as if he were being suffocated. And now, to complicate things, he was with a woman who made him think of nothing but sex.

A woman who had walked off with the flashlight. He followed her down the path, making his way, barely able to see where he was going, cursing fluently as his feet crunched on twigs and sank into something soft and unidentifiable.

“That’s a perfectly good pair of shoes ruined. I should have followed Gramps’s orders and driven straight back to Boston.”

She turned, almost blinding him with the beam of the flashlight. “So why didn’t you?”

“Because I’ve had a long day.” And because the sight of his grandmother’s pale face had been enough to weld his feet to the floor. “And the food is pretty good around here. I’m planning on hanging around for a while.”

“Good. Because whatever Walter says, your family needs you.” She paused, her shoulders stiff. “I apologize for shouting. You made me angry.”

“Yeah, I got that. Still, at least you didn’t smack me over the head with the flashlight. I should probably be grateful for that. Any chance you could shine it at my feet so I can see what I’m stepping in?”

“It’s a forest! How did you ever survive growing up here?”

“I didn’t wear expensive shoes.” He contemplated wiping them on something but decided it would make it worse. “We used to play down here when we were kids. Mom would send us out with a picnic and we played pirates on the lake and built a camp in the forest. We smeared ourselves with mud to camouflage ourselves and then hid when Gramps came looking for us.”

She eyed his suit. “I cannot imagine you filthy and covered in mud.”

“Take a closer look and you’ll see it now.” He cursed again as his foot slid. “These shoes are Italian.” Giving up on his feet, he glanced up though leaves and branches. “Tyler fell out of this one. He never could keep quiet. He was wriggling, fell and broke his arm. That was the first time I saw what bone looked like. He screamed himself hoarse. Jackson was white and rushing around trying to remember the first aid we’d been taught while I stood there thinking, it would be so cool to know how to fix that. The following winter Jackson broke his arm snowboarding and that was when I knew for sure I wanted to be a doctor. I was seven years old.” He grinned at her. “Of course, I also thought it would be a great way to pull women.”

She glared at him. “You don’t charm me. I’m still angry with you.”

“There’s no justice in the world.”

“You think women are impressed by the fact you’re a doctor?”

Plenty were, but he decided this wasn’t a good moment to mention that. “Obviously you’re not.”

“Maybe you should have chosen something impressive like brain surgery.”

“I could retrain. You think that would make a difference to my hit rate?”

Her scathing look told him she knew exactly how good his hit rate was. “If you’re trying to pull women you should change the way you tell the story—less mention of bone and more heroics might help.”

“You want heroics?”

“Every woman wants heroics.”

“Really? I had no idea. It’s a wonder I’ve scored at all in the past. So give me some help here—what do I have to do to impress you? Fight a moose? Wrestle a bear?”

“Wouldn’t that ruin your suit?” She was softening, her anger a faint glow instead of an intense burn.

“I could ask the bear to wait while I hang my jacket on a tree.” The scent of her hair made him dizzy. He was sure if a bear walked up now, he wouldn’t notice it.

“You pretend to worry about your suit, but you are quite at home in the forest.”

Sean’s foot sank into mud again and he turned the air blue. “Trust me, I really am worried about my suit. It’s done nothing to deserve this treatment.”

“So it has to be intellectual heroism. Nothing physical.”

“I have no problems with physical.” He moved closer to her and saw her back away fractionally. “I just might remove my clothes first.”

She backed away until she was pressed up against the tree. “Don’t flirt with me.”

“Why not? It’s the perfect way to take our minds off a bad day.” He planted his hand against the tree and smiled down at her, forcing himself not to kiss that mouth. Not yet.

She’d probably been on her feet for hours and yet she looked cool and elegant, a scarf knotted with artful simplicity around her throat. Her style was effortless and subtle, her hair glossy dark and cut in a sleek, geometric bob that brushed her jaw. She looked delicate and fragile but he knew she was neither of those things. She was strong, fit and driven by more passion and energy than anyone he’d ever met except perhaps his grandfather. She poured that passion and energy into everything she did, from cooking to—

His body hardened.

She pushed at his chest. “We’re here because you wanted to see the boathouse, remember?”

“I confess I brought you here with nefarious intentions.”

“Nefarious?” She rolled her tongue around the word and he tried to focus his mind sufficiently to provide a translation.

“Maléfique?”

“Wicked. Of course.” She frowned, irritated with herself. “It’s just not a word I have reason to use often at Snow Crystal.”

“Maybe we should do something about that.”

“I don’t think so.” Cool, back in control, she ducked under his arm. “You wanted to see what we’ve done, so come and see. I’m excited about this place. It’s the first time I’ve been involved with something from the start.”

He forced himself to focus on her words and not on the long, lean lines of her body.