Sorry, she said inanely, too aware that his face was close enough that if she reached up just a little, theyd be kissing. Which was the sort of thought she usually relegated to the dont go there section of her brain, along with thoughts of her mothers illness and her own crippling debt load.
She stared up at him, blinking, trying to figure out what had happened. As she did so, she realized she wasnt really even that cold anymore, just numb, almost going to warm now, kindling to heat. She smiled, dazed. Griffin didnt smile back, though. Instead, he touched her cheek, though she barely felt it. Youre freezing.
Not really. Im actually sort of warm. Her voice sounded strange, a deep rasp she wasnt used to, and her throat hurt with the effort.
His expression went hard. Thats even worse, because it means youre going into hypothermia. Weve got to get moving. Come on. Your arms and legs are working finenothings broken. I could carry you, but I think itd be better if you walked and got your blood moving. He eased away from her and stood, then reached down to pull her up. The world tilted beneath her feet and she sagged against him, feeling his hard, masculine muscles beneath his sopping-wet button-down shirt.
Wait a minute. Why was he wet?
Her fuzzy brain finally sharpened and she became suddenly cognizant of the fact that he wasnt the only one who was wet to the skin. Her own clothes were glued to her body, cold and soaking. And it was freezing out; a sharp wind cut through the pitiful protection of her wet clothing, and as she watched, a few fat flakes of snow drifted down from the leaden sky above. The blizzard, she thought, heart kicking with belated panic. The bridge!
She gasped as she remembered the accident, the pop of the airbags, and then
What then?
Heart hammering, she pulled away from her boss and looked at the lake. The bridge was a wreck, with a big section missing from the middle and chunks of cement hanging from mangled steel reinforcements. There was no sign of the SUV.
Wha-t-t-t The last word turned into a stutter when huge shivers started racking her. With the exertion of standing and beginning to move around, the numbness shed been feeling had changed to a huge, awful coldness. Wrapping her arms around her body as her muscles locked on the chills, she turned to Griffin. You pulled me out-t-t?
Come on. He slid an arm around her and urged her uphill. Weve got to get up to the house.
He was shivering, too, she realized. She could feel the tremors racking his large, masculine frame, could hear them in his voice, warning her that the two of them were far from out of danger. They could very well freeze before they reached safety.
As if called by the thought, a storm gust whistled across the lake and slammed into them, nearly driving them to the ground. Wind-driven snow peppered them, the icy pellets stinging Sophies hands and face. The pain was a sharp heat against the background of bone-aching cold.
Its not supposed to s-start snowing until l-later, she stuttered, not even able to feel her lips moving.
He didnt answer, just started walking, keeping a strong grip on her waist and urging her onward. Knowing he was right, they had to get moving, she put one foot in front of the other, forcing herself to keep up with his long-legged strides.
From the feel of gravel beneath her low-heeled bootswhich were not designed for snow trekkingshe figured they were following the driveway. She couldnt see it, though; it was covered with a layer of white. Snow had already blanketed the ground and frosted the trees, and more of the cold, wet stuff was plummeting down from the sky every second. Sometimes it drifted along, white and fluffy, looking almost pretty. For the most part, though, it blew sideways with stinging impact, eventually forcing her to slit her eyes against the storm. She put her head down and tried to shut out the cold and the snow, tried not to focus on anything but trudging along.
Youre still on probation for this job, whether hes admitting it or not, she told herself. Now is not the time to wimp out.
Granted, she could argue some seriously extenuating circumstances, and even a terrifyingly in-control man such as Griffin would have to give her a pass on losing it just now. But thinking about it that way, like it was a test she needed to pass, gave her the strength to keep pushing forward.
She needed this job more than he had any reason to understand. She knew he thought she was too young and inexperienced to fill Kathleens size-ten shoes, but she was bound and determined to do just that, because if she lost this job
No, she wouldnt think about that, either. Shed just keep walking, keep proving herself.
They struggled against the wind, headed toward the mountainside house, which had seemed very close when theyd been driving over the bridge, but now felt very far away. Eventually they passed into the tree line and the wind abated slightly, but the steady incline of the driveway sapped Sophies strength, and the temperature was dropping with the incoming storm. Shed all but stopped shivering, which she knew was a bad sign, and a glance at Griffin showed that his face reflected the gray of the sky, and his lips were tinged with blue.
They didnt have much time left.
He caught her look, met her eyes, and in his expression she saw only determination, and a flat-out refusal to admit defeat. Sounding far more like a drill sergeant than the efficient businessman shed come to know over the past month, he growled, Move your ass. Thats an order.
If hed coddled, she might have given in. Instead, the grating rasp of his voice had her stiffening her spine, gritting her teeth and forging onward as the snowfall thickened, going from stinging ice to fat flakes that whipped around them, swirling and turning the world to white. They were no longer a mismatched pair of boss and assistantthey were just two very cold human beings struggling to reach the basics: shelter and warmth. Safety.
Sophies breath burned in her lungs, and her muscles felt dead and leaden. She stumbled and caught herself, stumbled again and wouldve fallen if it hadnt been for Griffin looping a strong arm around her waist. His silent strength urged her to keep going, not to give up.
Then, miraculously, the snow-covered surface beneath their feet changed, going from gravel to rough-edged cement bricks. Sophie jerked her head up and peered through her ice-encrusted lashes, and gave a cry of joy when she saw that theyd reached a parking area that encircled a central planting bed. Beyond that was the modern, pillar-fronted house.
Come on, were almost there! Griffin said, shouting encouragement over the howling wind.
Through the whipping ice pellets, she could see the details that distance had obscured: the touches of stained glass on either side of the carved main doorway, and the intricate stonework and terraced landscaping leading up the walk. There were no lights, no sign of habitation, but that didnt matter. What mattered was the promise of getting out of the wind andplease, Godgetting warm and dry.
The possibility spurred her on, and she felt a renewed burst of energy from Griffin, too. Together, they hurried up the wide stone steps leading to the front door. She grabbed the knob and twisted, her fingers slipping in the icy wetness. Her breath hissed between her teeth. Its locked. D-do you have a key?
Its in the lake with the rest of our stuff. He cast around, kicking at several half-buried rocks that were frozen into the planting beds on either side of the entryway. When one came loose, he grabbed it, returned to where Sophie was waiting and used the rock to smash one of the narrow stained glass panels. The glass held against the first two blows, then gave way on the third, shattering inward in an act of destruction that wouldve bothered Sophie under any other circumstance, but in this case seemed very much like Griffin himselfdirect and to the point.
He took a moment to clear the sharpest shards away from the edges, then stuck his arm through, and felt around.
No alarms? Sophie asked.
Not yet, he replied, face set in concentration. Too many workmen to bother. Besides, the cops are, what? Half an hour away? Forty minutes? Not worth it.
The reminder of how isolated they were, even more so with the incoming storm, brought a renewed chill chasing through Sophie. If Griffin hadnt gotten them safely out of the SUV, it mightve been days, maybe longer before rescue personnel arrived. By then it wouldve been far too late.
Then again, if they didnt get warm soon, the same logic could very well apply.
The click of a deadbolt followed by the snick of a door lock came through the panel. Sophie twisted the knob, and nearly fell through when the door swung open beneath her weight. Griffin grabbed her and they piled through the door together. He kicked the panel shut at their backs, closing out most of the storm. The air went still, save for the draft that whistled through the broken window.
But it wasnt the sudden quiet that had Griffin cursing under his breath. It was the sight that confronted them, laying waste to any hope of an easy fix to their predicament.
Oh, Sophie breathed, because there didnt seem to be much else to say.
The place was a wreck.
They were standing in a grand entrywayor what mightve been a grand entryway in a previous life. Just then, though, it was bare studs and two-by-four construction, with electrical wiring spewed haphazardly around and the flooring pulled back to the plywood subfloor. The skeleton of a stairwell rose up to the right, leading to a second floor that wasnt much more than framework, and Sophie could see straight through to the back of the house, where nailed-down tarps seemed to be substituting for the back wall.
Worse, it wasnt much warmer inside than out, and she didnt hold much hope for a working heat source if the rest of the place looked as rough as the entryway. No doubt the hot water heater was off-line. Probably the electricity, too.
Son of a bitch. Griffin took two steps away from her and stood vibrating with fury, his hands balled into fists. That thieving bastard. Look what hes done to this place. That no-good, lying He snapped his teeth shut on the building tirade, and shook his head. Never mind. Ill kill him later.
Sophie was startled by the threat, and by how natural it sounded, as though her slick businessman boss might actually be capable of hurting his contractor. Then again, she realized, looking at him now, this wasnt the Griffin Vaughn shed grown more or less used to over the past month. He was wet, cold and angry, and shouldve looked like an absolute mess in wringing wet business clothes furred with globs of melting snow. But he didnt. He looked capable and masculine, and somehow larger than before.
He glanced over at her, his eyes dark, but softening a hint when he looked at her. Lets get moving. Theres got to be at least one room that still has walls and a working fireplace. That may be the best we can hope for.
Sophie nodded shakily. Trying to force her rapidly fuzzing brain to work, she said, The housekeeper and her husband live here, right?
He snapped his fingers. Good call. Gemma and Erik are gone, but theyve been doing the repairs to their quarters personally. Erik didnt want anyone else messing with his space. Which means theres a good chance that their apartment is in better shape than this disaster area. Its probably even still got electricity. He gestured off to the left, where drywall had been hung in a few places, though not taped or mudded. Their quarters are in the back corner.
She expected him to head off and leave her to follow, reverting to business as usual now that they were, at the very least, out of the whipping wind. Instead, he took her arm, which probably meant she looked as bad as she felt. Telling herself she could be tough and self-reliant once they found someplace to hunker down and get warm, Sophie leaned into him as they walked down a short hallway, skirting drop cloths and torn-up sections of flooring.
Obviously the generators not running, but its a standard model. I should be able to get it going again, Griffin said, sounding as though he was thinking aloud. If not, hopefully Gemma and Eriks fireplace will be usable. Id say we should try the guesthouse if we dont have any luck here, but Perry stripped it last month after the pipes froze and burst, and the barn and woodshed have zero in the way of amenities. He shot her a wry look. If worse comes to worst, we can lay out some kitchen tile and build a campfire on it. Theres plenty of scrap wood.
True enough, Sophie murmured.
Moments later, they reached a closed door. Griffin tried the knob. Locked. He glanced at her. In this case, expediency trumps privacy.
Putting his shoulder to the door, he braced against it, half turned the knob and then gave a sort of combined jerk-kick that looked as if hed practiced it to perfection. The door popped open, swinging inward to reveal a simply furnished sitting room.
Thank God, Sophie breathed. Telling herself not to wonder where hed learned how to pop a door off its lock without breaking any of the surrounding wood, she stumbled through the door.
Gemma and Eriks apartment proved to be a small, simply furnished suite done mostly in neutral beiges and browns, with accents of rust and navy. There was a kitchen and bathroom off to one side of the sitting room, and two doors leading from the other side. Sophie made a beeline for the doors. One opened into a small office filled with landscaping books and magazines. The other yielded pay dirt, not in the neat queen-size bed and southwestern-print curtains, but in the dresser and his-and-hers closets, which were full of clothes.
Wonderful, warm, dry clothes.
There were also photographs everywhere, scattered around the room in a variety of wood and metal frames. Even though she was freezing, Sophie couldnt help pausing for a quick scan of the pictures. Shed always been fascinated by families, and that was clearly what these photographs chronicled: a man and womans lifetime together.
The earliest of the pictures showed the couple mugging for the camera from atop a pair of bored-looking horses in Western tack, against a backdrop of purplish mountains and a wide-open sky. The woman looked to be in her early twenties, dark-haired and pretty, with regular features and an open, engaging smile. Her eyes twinkled with mischief. The man was maybe a few years older, blond and fair-skinned, with the beginnings of a sunburn. He was looking at her with an expression of complete and utter adoration.
The other photos showed the couple at different points in their lives togethertheir wedding; a baby, then two; family candids as the children grew. The mans hair went from blond to white, while the womans stayed relentlesslyand perhaps unnaturallydark brown, but her face softened with age, and living. There were other weddings, other vacations, until the last photo, which sat on the beside table and showed just the man and the woman, in their late fifties, maybe early sixties, wrapped around each other at the edge of Lonesome Lake, with the now-demolished bridge in the background.