Millionaire: Needed for One Month

Five

Nathan had had enough.

His ears were ringing and the good manners his grandmother had drummed into him were strained now to the snapping point. He'd excused himself from the two older women who had seemed determined to trap him on Main Street forever, and now he was going to get Keira to take him back to the lodge.

He should have driven himself.

Then he wouldn't be waiting around for anyone. He wasn't a man who liked being dependent on someone else for anything. His insides tightened as people milled past him, laughing, talking, dancing. He wasn't a part of them and never would be. Didn't want to be. And the more time he spent with all of them, the more clear that feeling became.

He didn't know why the hell he hadn't left the mountains already. He didn't have to honor a promise made in college to a man long-dead. Hell, he could donate the twenty million himself and get out of this mess now.

And with that thought firmly in his mind, his steps quickened toward Keira. Her gaze locked with his and he told himself to pay no attention to the brilliant green of her eyes or the worried twist of her mouth. He refused to notice how the light dazzled the ends of her reddish-blond hair, making it almost glow in a soft halo around her head. And damned if he would remember just how good she felt when her body was pressed against his during their dance.

As he came closer, she shoved her cell phone into the front pocket of her jeans and inhaled deeply enough that her breasts rose and then fell with the rush of her sigh.

If his body tightened suddenly, desperately, he ignored it.

“Hi,” she said and, somehow, her voice carried over the other sounds on the street. “Enjoying yourself?”

He frowned at her. “Yeah, it's been great. I've eaten, I've danced and I've listened to enough thank-yous to last me a lifetime, so if you don't mind, I'd like a ride back to the lodge.”

“Sure.”

“That easy?” He felt one eyebrow quirk. He hadn't expected her to give in without trying to talk him into staying longer.

“Why not?” she asked and looked away from him, shifting her gaze to sweep across the town square. She sighed again and this time her voice was so soft, he almost missed it. “I just wanted you to see Hunter's Landing. To meet some of the people, so you'd know who you and your friends are helping.”

“Thank you.” He heard the sarcasm in his own voice but didn't bother to try to take the sting out of it.

“I can take you by the clinic for a quick look on the way back. Then you can see exactly what we're planning.”

“Not necessary.”

Nathan blew out a frustrated breath. Everything in him was clamoring to be gone from this place. To pick up the threads of his life and get back to living the way he knew best. He didn't do well with other people. Didn't care to. And yet now …

Screw it.

“How about that ride?”

Frowning, she said, “You're just determined not to enjoy yourself, aren't you?”

“Was that a requirement?”

She muttered, “Kelly was right. You really are scary, aren't you?”

“What?”

“Nothing.” Reluctantly, she shrugged and said, “Let's go.”

He followed her to her truck and when she stumbled over a crack in the road, Nathan lunged forward to grab her before she could fall. Spinning her around, he pulled her in close and she laughed up at him. The woman was so changeable, he could hardly keep up.

“Thanks, didn't see that.”

“Weren't looking, you mean.”

Her hands were on his upper arms and even through the thick leather of his coat, he felt the heat in her touch and wanted more. Wanted to feel her hands on his bare skin, run his own hands over every curve of her body. Hear her sigh as he buried himself inside her.

The images in his mind were suddenly so clear, so overpowering, he could hardly draw a breath past the hot fist tightening around his lungs.

He willed himself to speak. “It's a wonder you're not covered in bruises the way you stumble around.”

“What makes you think I'm not?” she asked, still smiling.

He pulled in another deep breath of cold, mountain air and hoped it would help chill the fire in his blood. “What the hell are you doing to me?” he demanded.

“Depends, Nathan,” she said, her smile fading as her brilliant green eyes darkened with a need he recognized. “What do you want me to do to you?”

“I'm not interested in a short affair,” he said tightly, despite the fact that his body clamored for just that.

“Well, who asked you?” She pulled free of his grasp, straightened up and shook her hair back from her face. “Jeez, save a girl from a fall and then accuse her of trying to seduce you. Nice. Very nice.”

He pushed one hand through his hair and wondered why in the hell he tried talking to her anyway. “Can we just get in the damn truck?”

She dug her keys out of her pocket and bounced them on her palm. “You know, you were the one looking at me like you wanted to gobble me up.”

He blew out another breath and glared at her. “Call it temporary insanity.”

“Wow, one compliment after another,” she said and turned for the truck. “You're really on a roll here, Barrister.”

He stood just where he was and watched her open the driver's side door and step up into the cab. “You're an infuriating woman, did you know that?”

She glanced back at him over her shoulder. “Believe it or not, that's been said before.”

“My sympathies to the poor bastard, whoever he was.”

Her face froze up and her eyes shuttered as effectively as if she'd slapped on a pair of dark glasses. “He doesn't need your sympathy, Nathan. And neither do I. So, you getting in the truck or are you going to walk back up the mountain?”

Over the next week or so, every time Keira drove up the mountain, she was half afraid she'd find Nathan gone. After a really quiet ride back from the block party, she had dropped him off at the lodge and had hardly waited for his feet to hit the dirt before she gunned the engine and went home. It still embarrassed her to think about driving off in a huff like that.

She never should have let him get to her—couldn't understand why she had. But that little dig about giving his sympathies to whichever man had last been in her life had come a little too quickly after Kelly had brought up the same damn thing.

It wasn't that Keira was sensitive about her past; she just didn't like being reminded of what an idiot she'd been once upon a time.

But that was the past and this was now. And all that mattered now was making sure Nathan didn't leave before his month was up. She was pretty sure he was tired of having her show up on his doorstep every day, but she kept visiting him anyway, because she could practically see his need to leave vibrating in the air all around him.

And she wouldn't let that happen.

Parking the truck in the drive, she hopped out, slammed the door and headed for the front door. Dark clouds hung heavy over the mountains and the air felt thick with the promise of more snow. As much as she loved winter in the mountains, she was really ready for spring. Unfortunately, it looked as if nature didn't feel the same way.

She shivered, dug her hands into her jacket pockets and quickened her step, only to stop when she heard Nathan's voice shout, “Back here.”

Surprised to find him outside and away from the laptop that he clung to like his last link with civilization, Keira headed down the drive. She saw him at the lake's edge and she wasn't ashamed to admit, at least to herself, that the man was really sigh-worthy.

He wore that dark green cashmere sweater again over jeans that looked worn and comfortable. His brown leather jacket gave him a piratical air, and the wind tossed his hair across his forehead, making him look more free than she could remember seeing him before. Her heart jumped a little and her mouth went dry.

She could be in some serious trouble here. Especially if he started looking at her the way he had the night of the party.

“What're you doing?” she called as her boots crunched on the gravel drive.

He gave her a quick look, then shifted his gaze back to the steel gray surface of the lake. “Just looking. Needed some air.”

“Really?” she teased as she walked up to stop beside him. “I thought you were very happy breathing canned air and looking at nature through the beauty of clean glass windows.”

He snorted. “Let's just say I'm feeling a little cabin fever.”

There it was again. She could see how ready he was to chuck the whole month and escape from what he no doubt considered captivity. So what she had to do was take his mind off it.

“I can cure that.”

“How?”

“Take a walk with me.” She threaded her arm through the crook of his and smiled up at him.

“It's freezing out here,” he reminded her.

“If we keep moving, we won't feel it.” She tugged at his arm. “Come on. When's the last time you took a walk along a lake as beautiful as this one?”

His gaze swept out over the wide expanse of water and the pine-tree-studded shoreline before turning back to her. “Never.”

“Way too long,” she assured him and started walking. His long legs outdistanced hers, and Keira caught herself half running to keep up before she pulled back on his arm and said, “It's not a race, you know. You don't actually get a prize for reaching the other side.”

He stopped, smirked a little, then shrugged. “Point taken. But I'm not used to just strolling.”

“It's okay,” Keira said, enjoying the flash of warmth in his too-cool blue eyes. “You can learn.”

They walked in companionable silence for a few minutes before she said, “The bears will be waking up soon.”

“Bears?”

“Oh, yeah. Black ones and brown ones. Mamas and babies. They'll be trolling through backyards and tipping over trash cans looking for food or trouble.”

“Bears.” He shook his head. “Can't imagine living somewhere I could expect to bump into a bear.”

“Funny, huh?” she asked, tipping her face up to the darkening clouds, “I can't imagine living anywhere else.”

“You were raised here?”

“Yep. Born in Lake Tahoe, raised here. We didn't have a clinic back then. Now our new moms don't have to take that trek over the mountain for medical help.” She grinned and patted his arm with her free hand. “And thanks to you, our clinic's going to be even better than it already is.”

“You've thanked me enough.”

“Not really,” she said, “but I'll let it go.”

“Thank you.”

“For now.”

He snorted.

“What about you?” she asked in the silence, “Where are you from?”

“Everywhere,” he said, turning his gaze on the wind-whipped water of the lake again.

“That's not an answer, just so you know.”

“I was born in Massachusetts. Grew up on the east coast.”

Amazing how the man could give information and still make it seem like so little. But Keira wasn't a woman to be dissuaded easily. She dug a little deeper.

“Your family still there?”

“No family,” he said shortly, and his gorgeous blue eyes squinted into the wind racing past them.

“I'm sorry.”

“No reason to be. You couldn't know.”

“Well, I am, anyway,” she said and squeezed his arm companionably. “My folks died when I was in college,” she said, thinking that maybe if she gave a little, he'd be willing to give a little, too. “They went skiing. Got caught in an avalanche.”

His gaze shifted to hers. “Now I'm sorry.”

She looked up at him and smiled. “Thank you. It was really hard. I still miss them so much.”

“I was ten,” he said. “Car accident.”

A few words, but said so tightly, Keira could feel the old pain still welling inside him. At least she'd been grown when she lost her parents. She couldn't even imagine how lonely and terrifying it would have been to be a child and lose the safety of your own little world.

“God, Nathan, that's terrible.”

“A long time ago,” he reminded her. “Had my grandmother. Dad's mom. She took me in.”

“That couldn't have been easy for her,” Keira said, then stumbled on a piece of wood jutting up into the rocky trail.

Nathan caught her by tightening his grip on her arm and keeping her steady. “It wasn't much of a hardship. She sent me to boarding school, and I was only home for a month every summer.”

“She what?”

He blinked at her, clearly surprised by her reaction. What kind of people farmed out ten-year-old kids to boarding schools? What kind of grandparent couldn't see that the child left in her care was in pain and needed more than the impersonal attention of someone paid to watch over him?

“It was a very good school,” he said.

“Oh, I'm sure.” A spurt of anger shot through Keira on behalf of a child who no longer existed. “No brothers or sisters?”

“Nope. You?”

God, he had been all alone with a grandmother too busy to give him what he must have craved. A sense of belonging. A sense of safety. Keira couldn't even imagine what that must have been like for him, and a part of her warmed up to his frosty nature a little more. After all, if he'd been so cut off as a child, how could she possibly expect the man to be open to possibilities?

He was watching her, waiting for her to answer his question, and so she gave him a smile that didn't let him in on the fact that she was really feeling sorry for the boy he'd once been.

“I have a sister. Kelly. She's younger than me and was still in high school when our folks were killed. So, I came home from school, watched over her and started running the family diner.”

He frowned. “The coffee shop in town?”

“You noticed it? Yep. The Lakeside was my dad's baby. It's small, but it's been good to us. Made it possible for me to get Kelly into college—well, the diner and a few good loans.”

“What about you?” he asked. “You didn't go back to school?”

“No,” she said, still irritated with his grandmother for some bizarre reason. “I meant to, I really did. But then Kelly was in college, and no way could we afford for both of us to go. And when she graduated, I'd already hired a manager for the diner and was running for mayor, so …” She shrugged.

“Your sister should have taken her turn in town to give you a chance to go to school.”

Keira shook her head. “No, she got a tremendous job offer right out of school and there was no way she could not take it.”

He was silent, but the quiet held a lot of disapproval.

“You could go back to college now,” he pointed out.

“Oh, yeah,” Keira said, laughing shortly. “Just what I want to do. Go to school with a bunch of kids. Sounds like a great time.”

“What's your sister doing now?”

“She's living in London,” Keira said, defensive of a little sister who didn't need defending. “She loves England,” she added with a wistful sigh. “She sends me pictures that make me want to pack my bags and go there for myself.”

“Why don't you?”

“I can't just leave because I want to. I have responsibilities to this town.”

He sighed, frowned and turned slitted eyes on her. “Is that a not so subtle hint?”

“I wasn't going for subtle,” she admitted, smiling up at him despite the glower in his eyes. “Just for a reminder about the responsibilities you and the others have to Hunter's Landing.”

“I'd never heard of your town until a month ago,” he reminded her, “and a month from now, I will have forgotten it.”

“Well, don't we feel special,” she mused.

“It's nothing personal,” he said. “It's just …”

“None of that really matters, does it? You agreed to the terms of the will and—” The toe of her boot caught under a root and she would have gone sprawling if Nathan hadn't steadied her again.

“You're dangerous,” he snapped. “Why don't you pay more attention to where you're walking?”

“Hey, I have you here to catch me.”

“Don't count on that.”

“I am, though,” Keira said, blocking his way by stepping in front of him before she stopped dead. “We're all counting on you. You and your friends.”

The wind sliced in off the lake and cut at them like a knife straight out of a freezer. Keira's hair swept across her eyes and she plucked it free so she could look at Nathan.

He didn't look happy, but what was new about that? His gaze was locked with hers and his mouth was tightened into a grim slash that told her exactly what he was thinking.

“I know you don't want to hear it,” Keira said and reached out to put both hands on his forearms. And even through the icy brown leather jacket, she felt the strength of him, tightly leashed. “But it's true. I can't even tell you how important it is to all of us that you stay for the month.”

“Keira—”

“I know, I know,” she said, lifting both hands in a mock surrender. “You don't want to hear about this anymore.”

“The night of the town party,” he admitted quietly, “I had every intention of calling my pilot and flying out of here.”

“But you didn't,” she said lightly, despite the quick tightening around her insides.

“That doesn't mean I won't,” he pointed out. “I don't want you—or anyone—counting on me. For anything.”

“That's a hard way to live,” she said.

“It's my way.”

“It doesn't have to be,” Keira said, her voice a whisper that was nearly lost in the swirl of the wind. Why was she doing this? Why did she care how Nathan Barrister lived his life?

He laughed shortly, and the sound was so surprising that Keira blinked at him.

“I like my life just the way it is,” he said. “I'm not interested in changing it.”

“Just like you're not interested in a one-month affair.”

His jaw clenched.

Oops.

She didn't know why she'd said that. But now that it was back out in the open between them, she wasn't sure how to un-say it, either.

“Keira …”

A puff of white danced on the wind and flew between them as if trying to end their conversation.

“Was that …?” he asked.

“Snow,” she said.

And in that split second, several more flakes of snow whipped around them, carried on the wind that snapped and rattled at the pine trees. The temperature dropped what felt like twenty degrees and the lowering clouds looked black and threatening.

“Of course it's snow. For God's sake, does spring ever get here?” He inhaled sharply, deeply, and looked at her as if there was something more he wanted to say.

The look in his eyes was nearly electric. Despite the snowflakes just beginning to flurry around them, she felt heat arcing between them.

Her heartbeat was jittering in her chest, her blood was pumping hot and thick in her veins, and she had the most overpowering urge to reach up and smooth his hair back from his forehead.

Instead, she curled her fingers into her palms and took a deep breath. “It's coming down harder. We should start back.”

Six

By the time they reached the lodge, snow had dusted their hair and shoulders and was thick enough in the air that every breath tasted like ice.

When Keira would have turned down the driveway to head for her truck, Nathan caught her elbow and tugged her up the back steps to the house by the lake.

“Nathan …”

He stopped on the top step, looked down into her soft green eyes and said, “You might as well wait out the storm here.”

She hunched deeper into her jacket, swung her snow-dusted hair out of her eyes and said, “It might not stop for a few hours.”

Glad to hear it, he almost said and was glad he'd managed to clamp his jaw shut. But the truth was, he didn't want to go back into that too-damned-quiet lodge. It was bad enough to be trapped there in the silence when the sun was shining. He had a feeling that being alone with the falling snow and lowering clouds would make him feel as though he were buried alive in a dark cave. Not something he really wanted to experience.

“And it might stop in a few minutes,” he pointed out, but, as if to prove that prediction false, the wind kicked up and the snow flew in frenzied flurries.

“If I was home right now,” Keira said, “I'd make myself some hot chocolate.”

“I can probably handle that,” he said. “Or, there's some excellent brandy.”