Snowbound with a sexy stranger...

Will sharing his bed destroy her plans or lead to forever?

Naomi Steele knows it’s sneaky to sleep with Royce Miller without revealing her true identity. So is neglecting to mention she’s pregnant. Still, being stranded with the reclusive scientist provides the perfect opportunity to convince him to work for her family’s company. Yet once the snow melts and the truth is revealed, Naomi could be dealing with double the trouble...

USA TODAY bestselling author CATHERINE MANN has won numerous awards for her novels, including both a prestigious RITA® Award and an RT Book Reviews Reviewers’ Choice Award. After years of moving around the country bringing up four children, Catherine has settled in her home state of South Carolina, where she’s active in animal rescue. For more information, visit her website, www.catherinemann.com.

Also By Catherine Mann

One Good Cowboy

Pursued by the Rich Rancher

Pregnant by the Cowboy CEO

The Boss’s Baby Arrangement

His Secretary’s Little Secret The

Baby Claim

The Double Deal

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

The Double Deal

Catherine Mann

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-07629-6

THE DOUBLE DEAL

© 2018 Catherine Mann

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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To my sisters, Julie and Beth

“A sister is a gift to the heart, a friend to the spirit, a golden thread to the meaning of life.”

—Isadora James

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Prologue

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Epilogue

Extract

Extract

Prologue

Naomi Steele wasn’t naive.

Her life had brought enough challenges to make her wise—if not jaded. She’d expected pregnancy to bring changes too. Yes, hormonal upheaval. But also miraculous transformations, full of shimmering emotions and realized dreams.

She just hadn’t expected to feel such a ferocious internal roar—a primal drive—to protect her child at all costs.

Or possibly children. Plural? Twins ran in her family and having used in vitro increased her odds of fraternal twins. A wave of nerves—and nausea—hit her.

Breathe. Breathe. Focus.

With a report from the private investigator to her left and her computer screen to her right, she compared notes on the world-famous research scientist who could bring her the business coup—the security—she needed for her child. Sure, she had a large, wealthy family, and she lived in the confines of their estate outside of Anchorage, Alaska. Her suite was large. The enclosed balcony offered her magnificent views of both the bay and the mountains.

But none of that helped her feel as though she had a real stake in the family business. A legacy to share with her child. And since her pregnancy had been accomplished by in vitro fertilization with a sperm donor, she was utterly on her own to create that legacy. That lasting piece of the Steele portfolio that couldn’t be taken away.

Her family was in a state of upheaval. Her father’s upcoming marriage to a former business rival and the resulting merger of their two oil empires meant everyone in both families were fighting for roles in the new company—Alaska Oil Barons, Incorporated. Naomi needed to contribute to the business in a way that was undeniably hers.

And research scientist Royce Miller was her ticket to making that happen.

She let the corners of the private investigator’s report brush over her thumb like a flip book, information she already knew about Royce Miller, PhD, by heart. She let her gaze fall on her computer screen, where a rare image of him filled the space. He was a brilliant man, a reclusive genius. He was all compelling eyes and brooding good looks, his intelligence as evident as his strong shoulders.

She needed him to cement her value in the family business.

Was the anonymous father of her child half that smart? Half that strong? All moot musings. She’d chosen her path as a single parent, on her own.

Up to now, that independence had suited her just fine.

Since her battle with cancer as a teenager, she’d lived her life for herself, and with abandon. She’d embraced her competitiveness. In play, and later in her work as an attorney for her family’s Alaskan-based oil business. She preferred no strings in all her dealings, outside the connection to her widowed father and her siblings.

Now, she was still going her own way, but the stakes were higher than ever.

She had seen often enough how quickly a successful company could crash. And with the tumultuous merger of the Steele oil holdings with the Mikkelson oil family—thanks to her father’s surprise engagement to the Mikkelson matriarch—Naomi was more concerned than ever about the future of the business. Their competitor, Johnson Oil United, was hot on their heels, hoping to use the uncertainty during the merger as a chance to surge ahead in the market.

Naomi couldn’t grow complacent. She couldn’t back down.

Right now, her private detective and crazy good internet skills were her best advantages in tracking down her ace in the hole.

Finding the scientist and persuading him to bring his research on ecological advancements in oil pipelines to her family was paramount. At the very least, she needed to locate him and sneak a peek at his research. Aside from the benefits to her family’s company, his research could be the key to reducing environmentally based cancers, a passion she shared with her ecologist sister Delaney. Doubling the stakes, really.

After tireless searching for Dr. Miller, Naomi finally had a lead on the sequestered scientist. He’d retreated to the mountains to work on his research in an isolated but luxurious glass igloo.

Now that she’d found him, she just needed to come up with a plan to meet him. Hang out with him. And use her creative maneuvering to wrangle an afternoon together where she could work her way into his good graces and secure the deal of a lifetime.

One

Research scientist Royce Miller didn’t have a problem shifting from cerebral to alpha mode to save a woman from a hungry Alaskan grizzly that should have been hibernating.

But he needed to put on some clothes first.

Royce gathered up his jeans, boots and a parka to go over his boxers and T-shirt. Beyond the thick paned glass of his remote getaway, a shaggy brown bear stalked toward an SUV. Parked in his snow-piled driveway, the driver—someone in a blindingly pink parka—honked the horn repeatedly. The blaring would have alerted a couple of city blocks, except this happened to be the only cabin for nearly a hundred miles.

Well, not a cabin exactly.

Renting this insulated glass igloo out in the middle of nowhere had given him the irresistible opportunity to soak up some rare Alaskan rays this month as he immersed himself in developing new safety measures for oil pipelines. Not that he gave a damn about a tan, but vitamin D from sunshine was in short supply this far north and crucial for bone health, muscle mass and strength. All of which could come in handy once he stepped outdoors to say howdy to the massive grizzly closing in on the SUV holding his unexpected guest.

The “guest”? An issue he would deal with later.

Just because he valued his privacy as highly as his vintage Pascal’s calculator, that didn’t mean he could let the angry bear take out the dainty woman behind the wheel of the four-wheel drive. Her pink hood bobbed left and right, fast, as if she searched for options. Or help.

At least she was in a vehicle. That gave him a few precious moments to prep rather than bolt out there in the buff.

Bolting away from the glass wall, he sidestepped his Saint Bernard. “’Scuse me, Tessie.”

Tessie, as in short for the scientist Nikola Tesla.

The two-year-old shaggy dog lifted her block head off her paws and tipped it to the side. She was worn-out from their time playing in the yard earlier, a long outing to stretch her legs since he’d known a blizzard was imminent. Was that why this driver had stopped here? Stranded on the way back to Anchorage? Spring was just one breath from winter up here.

His Saint Bernard narrowed her eyes, studying him intently. Sniffing the air, the dog let out a low whine, standing. Perhaps catching the scent of the bear. Not good.

“This isn’t the time for curiosity, girl.” Urgency pumped through him as he tugged on his jeans, pausing only to turn off his computer with a brisk click on his way by. Sensitive data secured.

From the bear and a lost tourist? Not likely.

Still, never could be too careful given the nature of his work. Patent-worthy research if all played out as he suspected. And when it came to his job, he was never wrong. The stakes were too high. Too personal.

His father had worked the old-school oil pipelines, like most of the population in the small Texas town where Royce had grown up. It had been a tight community. A loss of one sent ripples throughout that touched them all.

When his former fiancée’s father had died in an explosion, Royce’s world had been blown apart too. Then his fiancée miscarried their baby and left the country. Left him...

Shaking off the past, Royce dressed with methodical speed, shrugging into a fleece-lined flannel shirt, then tugging on a parka, and stepped into boots on his way to the door to deal with the massive curveball thrown at his day. This would have been the perfect secluded afternoon for productive thinking. He’d come to the wilderness retreat for peace, a slice of time with no distractions. No question, creating a safer, ecologically friendly oil pipeline was personal.

Corporations vied to get him on their payroll, but he preferred to work solo and, thanks to selling off a few patents, he had a multimillion-dollar cushion to innovate on his own terms. Such as working here. Alone.

So much for that plan.

Thinsulate gloves were all he could afford to wear and still use the tools at his disposal to rid them of the bear’s threat. A flare gun and, as a last resort, a shotgun.

“Tessie,” he said firmly, “stay.”

She huffed in apparent irritation at being kept inside, but she didn’t budge.

“Good girl.” He tossed the words of praise over his shoulder.

Bracing himself, he unlocked the door that opened into a short igloo-style tunnel. A blast of frigid air whipped inward hard and fast, damn near freezing his breath in his chest. A painful breath, as the cold air crackled in his lungs. Steeling himself, he pressed into the howl of the blizzard wind, the blaring horn roaring almost louder than the bear.

Royce pushed forward into the full slam of storm winds. If he could steer the bear away before it reached the driver, or distract the bear long enough for the woman to bolt inside...

The grizzly ambled faster toward the SUV idling beside Royce’s dual cab truck. Now that he was outside, he could see the SUV spewing sludge from the back wheels as the vehicle worked—in vain—to reverse out.

With a flying leap and roar, the beast pounded on the hood of the woman’s vehicle, enormous paws taking swipes at the windshield. Even through the thick swirls of snow mixed with sleet, Royce could see the glint of long, lethal bear claws.

The time for finesse had ended.

Royce shouted, “Hey, you, teddy bear, check me out.”

His voice got lost amid the car horn blending with the unforgiving blizzard. The grizzly’s ears twitched but still he—or she—continued to rock the SUV, chunks of slush clotting in the shaggy coat. The blizzard dumped its fury faster and faster from the sky, wind carrying the flakes sideways in stinging icy bullets. Royce raised the flare gun and popped a flaming missile into the air, careful to avoid the frosted branches.

With a roar, the bear’s massive head swung around.

“Yeah, Paddington, now we’re in business,” Royce shouted, gripping part of his unbuttoned parka and spreading it wide, making himself appear as big as possible.

Bears usually preferred easy prey, so looking large could help scare him off. But he wasn’t counting on it. He kept the shotgun in hand even as he held his coat open. “Yeah, you. Back off, Baloo.” Who knew there were so many jolly bears in literature? Kids should be taught to steer clear of them, not cuddle the creatures. “There’s no food in my trash, and that little lady there isn’t going to be dinner.”

Or an appetizer, or canapé even, given the woman appeared to be more of a wiry sort.

The car horn pierced the air, long and loud, as the woman pressed the hell out of it. She had some serious mojo. No diving under the dashboard in fear for herself. She revved the engine, puffing thicker exhaust into the cold.

As the driver’s side window eased down, a head peeked out. That pink parka shone, hood up, but a coal-dark ponytail trailed free along her shoulder. “I’m trying to back up, but either the tires are stuck or the bear weighs too—”

“Get back in there before Winnie the Pooh takes off your head with one swipe of the paw,” Royce barked. Quick calculations told him he needed to get that bear away from the SUV within the next two to three minutes or the windshield would almost certainly shatter. The grizzly was big, but not too big to climb through the busted front glass.

“Of course I’m going to stay in the car,” she shouted back. “I just wanted to know if you can think of something I should be doing differently. I have no intention of budging until Winnie-the-Pooh bear trundles back off into the Hundred Acre Wood—”

The bear’s paw swiped off the side mirror, inches from her face. Fat snowflakes quickly piled on top of the shattered mirror, covering it in a testament to the power and fury of the Alaskan storm. Also, a reminder that Royce was up against more than just a grizzly.

Squealing, the woman tucked back into the SUV as the bear rolled off the vehicle and landed on the ground. On both back feet, wobbling but not down and not retreating.

No more playing around.

Royce raised his shotgun.

Aimed.

The SUV lurched backward, then forward, snow spewing. Apparently, the bear’s weight had been keeping it in place, after all. Royce’s shot went wild and the four-wheel drive skidded on the icy ground inches past him. The gleaming silver SUV was on a fast track to bashing into his igloo hideaway.

Royce launched to the left, out of the vehicle’s path, while keeping eyes on the grizzly. The bear lumbered off into the tangle of slick trees. Clearly Teddy-Baloo-Paddington-Winnie thought better of tangling with that pink parka.

Speaking of which.

Royce checked right and—thank God—found the SUV at a stop in a puffy snowbank, the horn silent at last. The driver? Already climbing out from behind the wheel. Apparently unscathed.

And not as wiry as he’d originally thought. She was petite, alright, but with just the right kind of curves showcased in ski pants and a parka cinched at the waist.

A cute-as-hell—but still unwelcome—vision.

Now that the bear was gone, suspicion burned more than the frostbite threatening his face. Royce had to wonder. What was this woman doing out here in the middle of nowhere?

And what did she want with him?

* * *

Naomi Steele resented playing the wilting flower for any man.

She’d been born in Alaska, was a quarter Inuit on her dead mother’s side. Growing up, she and her sisters had learned about survival in her harsh and magnificent home state right alongside her brothers. She could have handled the bear on her own with the flare gun in her survival kit.

But letting Royce Miller save her offered a golden opportunity to slide under the man’s radar.

Shading her eyes against the fast-setting sun, Naomi watched the ornery grizzly hike back into the woods and out of sight. She turned slowly, careful to give her boots traction on the snow.

And...whoa, sexy snowman.

She’d seen press releases about Royce Miller during her internet search. She’d even sat in on one of his lectures a month ago, knew about his work from her background check on him prior to driving to his remote getaway. But no portfolio full of head shots, data or even back row auditorium viewing could have prepared her for his up close charisma. He was so much more than broodingly handsome good looks. The appeal was more than his leanly muscle-bound body on display in that open parka. And yeah, he got bonus points for the thick dark hair a hint too long like he’d forgotten to get a haircut, tousled like he’d just gotten out of bed.

All enticing. Sure.

But it was his eyes that held her. Those windows to the soul. To the man. A man with laser-sharp intelligence in his deep brown gaze that pierced straight to the core of her and seemed to say, Bring it, woman. I can keep up.

Raw sexual attraction crackled so hot in the air she half expected icicles to start melting off the trees.

Normally, she would have welcomed the draw, the challenge. But talk about poor timing. She needed to focus on her mission to wrangle a way to use that brilliant mind of his for her family’s company.

And she happened to be two months pregnant. Those teenage years fighting cancer had seemed surreal at times, but she’d frozen some of her eggs before treatment, just in case. Her oncology specialist had called on a counselor to help her through so many decisions during that frightening experience.

Now she was ready to be a mother. She was through waiting around for a mythical Mr. Perfect. She’d started this journey with her career as a lawyer and her connections to her family as a solid foundation, but she’d since had her world turned upside down. With her father’s engagement and the two rival companies merging, everyone was fighting for a place. And just as she had when she was a child, she needed to prove her place. For her child. For her sister who’d died. She blinked back tears.

Pregnancy hormones.

Of course. That must be the explanation for her off-the-charts reaction to a total stranger.

That stud muffin stranger adjusted his hold on the shotgun. “Let’s get inside to talk before the bear comes back—or we’re buried in a snowdrift.”

“Oh, yeah, right.” Another second staring at him and she could well have drool freeze to her face. She needed a level head to stay one step ahead of him. Royce wasn’t just smart. He was genius smart—and eccentric.

Locating the recluse at all had taken Herculean detective work, employing the best of the best private investigators she’d used in her legal practice.

Detectives known for their discretion.

If the search gained her access to his pipeline research, it would be worth every penny. If she could somehow accomplish the unimaginable and persuade this lone ranger researcher to sign on with her family’s oil company, well, that coup would be worth more than any amount of money.

She would finally win her family’s full approval by contributing more than her legal advice to the business. She needed this for herself and for her child, a stable future. Strategy mattered more.

Royce opened the door to the glass igloo—and a beast of another kind came bounding out. A huge Saint Bernard leaned into him, sniffing, taking in all the surroundings. The air was heavy with scents of pine, the lingering smell of the spent flare gun still carried on the blizzard breeze.

“Tessie,” Royce commanded in a soft rumble, “inside, girl.”

Panting, the Saint Bernard shifted away from the front stoop and let them enter.

Bracing a hand against the door frame for balance, Naomi glanced around the space and found it much like ones her family had vacationed in over the years. God, those were amazing memories, a time before her mother and sister had died in a plane crash. Before Naomi had gotten cancer. A time she’d innocently thought could last forever. But those times had ended prematurely, like a short Alaskan day.

She looked upward, tipping her face toward the sun’s rays. The igloo’s glass dome let in the last beams of light. Only one wall was opaque, a wall with a platform bed against it, and almost certainly the bathroom and closet tucked cubicle-style behind.

Half the room had a long, curved sofa along the glass. Tessie had taken up residence on the couch, watching Naomi and Royce with wide brown eyes. The rest of the room held a kitchenette and dining table that was currently being used as a computer desk. No doubt, the keys to his research kingdom were inside that computer. Not that she expected him to have anything less than the best security.

“So?”

Royce Miller’s voice pulled her back around.

“Yes, well...” She searched for the right words. She’d spent so much time figuring out how to find him and get here, she hadn’t given much thought to being here. With him. Alone. “Thank you so much for saving my life.”

He unloaded the shotgun with a swift efficiency that shouted his Texas upbringing, and pocketed the ammo. “What in the hell coerced you to venture out in this storm?”

“Whoa, hostility check, big guy. Is that any way to speak to the person who brought your supplies?” she asked with the charm that had won over dozens of tough-as-nails juries. “Without my trek up here, you could have starved, not to mention run out of deodorant.”

“Supplies?” He eyed her warily, shrugging out of his parka and shaking the snow onto the doormat.

He made flannel look good.

But she ignored that and kept talking. “Yes, that’s what I said. You have contracted a delivery service for your supplies while you’re isolated up here.” And she’d slipped the driver a hefty tip to let her bring the supplies up to her supposed boyfriend. The driver had been an old softie, a real romantic, and was easily persuaded. Lawyer skills with word craft came in handy out of the courtroom too. “And I’m here to restock your pantry. I thought I’d left in time to beat the storm, but it came on faster and heavier than expected. And, well, here I am.”

Sure, she’d quibbled, insinuating she worked for the rental company’s supply business. Truth be told, she hadn’t outright said so. She could talk her way around that equivocation later. Because if he knew she was a part of the oil mogul Steele family, he would have likely left her to the bear.

“And you are?”

“Naomi.” She said just her first name carefully, toying with her parka zipper. Then catching the nervous twitch, she stopped. No outright lies to backtrack from, she reminded herself.

She studied his face closely to see if her name sparked even a hint of recognition. Nope. Nothing. She didn’t doubt her read of him. She’d been top of her law school class and had yet to lose a courtroom battle.

“Naomi, thank you for the supplies that you drove here in the middle of a blizzard,” he said tightly, “but what do you expect to do now?”

“I expect for us to unload the supplies in my car before things freeze.”

Sighing, he reached for his parka and started toward the door. “Have a seat. I’ll get everything.”

She raised a manicured hand. “Don’t forget the flare gun in case our ‘friend’ returns.”

“Got it.”

“I can back you up with the shotgun if needed,” she added, already sensing he would insist no, no and hell no.

He paused at the door, hand on the knob. “I’ve got it,” he repeated, then stepped outside.

Ah, and just as predicted, he’d assumed she was as defenseless as she looked. For a smart man, he had a weakness and she’d found it fast.

He coddled women.

Some would think that rocked, and soak it right up. But she valued her independence. Her strength.

Her health.

She’d fought hard for her life, battling cancer as a teen, then battling all over again to elbow free of her family’s overprotective ways. And yes, she’d gone overboard at times asserting herself, pushing through boundaries, which gained her a wild child reputation. She’d been bold. She’d partied and lived every day to the fullest. And she’d let her reputation become larger than life, more risqué than reality.

A choice that was coming back to bite her now that she genuinely gave a damn about being a part of the family business.

Speaking of which, she needed to get her butt in gear before Royce returned. This window of time while he was unloading the supplies was precious. She could recon his cabin. She would need every clue at her disposal to get past his defenses.

Two

Head ducked into the wind that was picking up speed and throwing icy dartcicles, Royce carried the last box inside—his fifth trip. This Naomi was one hell of a delivery person. He had enough to make it through an apocalypse. Or thereabouts.

Frankly, the hauling—while done on a day colder than the coldest day in hell—had given him a chance to air out his thoughts regarding this unexpected turn of events at a time when he needed unwavering focus.

A visitor at his private retreat. A woman.

A drop-dead gorgeous woman.

He stepped back inside, his dog there to greet him with a nudge of the nose and wag of the tail. Wide brown eyes seemed to ask about this new addition to their haven. Royce didn’t have an answer yet. But he would.

“Hey,” he said, “last box.”

“Sorry the weather stinks so badly.” She stood at the kitchen cabinets with the other boxes at her feet, unloading canned milk.

Naomi’s parka was long gone and...damn, she was a sight for hungry eyes in formfitting jeans with silver studs and a red fuzzy sweater that all but shouted, I’m soft—touch me. Her dark ponytail swished in a silky glide as she reached upward to slide the can in place, then ducked back down to unload a jar of granola.

Eyes off her ass.

He set the last box on one of the two kitchen chairs, cushioned with leather for comfort and the kind of chair that could be used in his office or in the living area. Everything in the space was efficient and multipurpose. “Isn’t someone going to be worried when you don’t return?”

“I texted one of my brothers while you were outside.” She wriggled her toes in thick socks, stacking cans to make room for the granola container.

Texted? “How did you manage that? The signal up here sucks.”

Sure, he could call out and email, but his equipment was top-of-the-line with a portable minisatellite dish.

“I have a really good phone,” she answered simply over her shoulder, inky-black ponytail stroking along her back in a way that made him consider what it would feel like to trace her hair’s path, then test the texture in a gentle fist.

“That’s advanced tech equipment for a delivery person.”

Stepping down, she faced him, smile bright, her full lips glistening with fresh gloss. “My family’s generous. And, um, I was helping a friend by making the delivery since they were overwhelmed with storm purchases.” She tugged at the hem of her red sweater, a slight flush staining her cheeks. “I don’t actually work for the supply shop.”

“You’re a good friend, then, to make a trip in this weather.” He still wasn’t sure why he couldn’t accept she was here to bring his supplies. It just seemed off that the store would send a woman out alone in this crazy-monstrous spring blizzard to deliver paper towels and canned goods. He should call, just to verify, which he would as soon as the supply offices reopened tomorrow...or after the storm.

A deep, shining smile plumped her cheeks, eyes dancing in the warm light. “We all have our reasons for doing things. Friendship is a treasure—and a hefty motivator.”

“True enough.” His parents and their next-door neighbors had been best friends, like family.

They’d been thrilled when Royce had started dating their friends’ daughter, the girl next door, whose father worked alongside his. His parents hadn’t been as excited when she got pregnant, since a baby would have changed his plans for a PhD. However, wedding preparations ensued...until a pipeline explosion rocked the town. His fiancée’s father died.

Then his fiancée miscarried the baby.

Before Royce could process the grief over losing his child, Carrie Lynn had broken the engagement and left. For good.

Life fell apart for him. He didn’t give himself over to emotion easily. It wasn’t in his nature. Figuring out how to recover from that loss ten years ago had been tougher than anything he’d faced in his life.

But Royce had pieced himself back together with an unwavering focus on work and a dedication to reducing the chances of a pipeline tragedy happening to any other family again. Hell, he was better off doing what he did best.

Dealing with science and facts, not emotions and feelings.

His passion for his work had cost him relationships, but damn it, he wasn’t interested in changing himself or his values for anyone.

Take him as he was. Period.

So, in reality, this woman wasn’t a threat beyond being a physical temptation.

Reassured for the moment, he stepped out of his boots, his wool socks much like hers. Except his weren’t purple.

Naomi closed the cabinet and settled in an empty chair, crossing her legs, purple-socked foot swinging. “Are you vacationing?”

“Working.” A fact that shouldn’t require elaboration.

She laughed lightly. “You don’t look like a professional ice fisherman.”

“I’m not.”

“Then what are you working on?” she asked, drumming her fingers on his laptop computer, his abacus key chain resting beside on the table. “Your memoirs of life in the Alaskan wilds fighting bears?”

“Nosy much?” He moved the final box of supplies to the floor and sat in the other chair, eyeing her.

“I’m just making polite conversation. Unless you’re going to cue up Netflix, we have time to kill waiting out the storm.”

Damn, she was funny and sassy as well as hot. How long was this storm supposed to last?

“I have an extensive library on my tablet. You’re welcome to browse. Make yourself comfortable over there on the sofa.”

Out of his workspace and far enough away so that he wouldn’t be breathing in the crisp scent of her, something like—he sought an intellectual answer to such an elemental scent—like the water, the ocean. Icy salt air. Did they make that into a perfume or was it just the scent of her? He focused back in on her words.

“While you work at...”

“I’m a science professor.” He tossed out his generic answer, a truth. He did give the periodic guest lecture series.

“So, you have papers to grade?” she pushed without budging from her seat.

“Hmm...” He pulled his tablet out of his computer bag and cued up the library, while making sure the rest of his data was tightly password protected.

“You’re not the chatty sort.”

“Nope.”

“You were talkative earlier, with the bear.” She toyed with her ponytail, shiny black strands gliding through her fingers.

“Adrenaline.” A chemical currently pumping through his body again as he watched her play with her hair. Was it his imagination or was she flirting?

And if she was, did he want to take her up on that offer?

Hell, yes.

She reached across the small teak table. “Is the offer for that tablet full of reading material still available?”

* * *

Three hours later, stars glinting overhead and a fire crackling in the stone hearth, Naomi curled up with a blanket and throw pillows, pretending to be engrossed in a mystery novel on the glowing tablet. She’d already read it a week ago, so if Royce asked questions, she would be able to answer. Meanwhile, she could study him and figure out how best to proceed.

Upon reflection, Naomi wasn’t so sure this plan had been her best. After receiving the investigator’s report, she’d moved quickly. Usually a strength of hers. Fast decision-making.

But given the upheaval in her family lately, she had to admit, she wasn’t at the top of her game.

She’d rushed up here without considering all the outcomes.

Gathering a look at Royce’s data would be easier said than done, and a few notes here and there would only have short-term benefits. Persuading him to join forces with the Steele and Mikkelson family businesses, which were merging into Alaska Oil Barons, was going to be a challenge. Especially with the tumultuous press her family had been generating since her dad had announced his surprise engagement to the Mikkelson widow—Jeannie. Stock prices had dropped.

Then her brother had gotten engaged to a Mikkelson and they were parenting a baby together.

Boom. No warning.

Stock prices dipped again. The board of directors rumbled there was too much chaos, too much emotional fallout and not enough strategy. They weren’t sure how the merger would play out, and the board hated uncertainty.

She wasn’t so sure she disagreed with them. She trusted her family. But the Mikkelsons? She’d been raised to consider them the enemy. Had that feud ended just because their patriarch had died? Could the entire contentious atmosphere be blamed on one person?

Not likely.

She needed to solidify her role in the company. She was keeping a close eye on things from a legal perspective, but she’d need to win as many allies as possible to act on any discrepancies she found. She didn’t know how the rival companies would be blended or how leadership positions would be divided. Nabbing Royce Miller for her family’s team would go a long way in garnering loyalty and upping her professional profile.

But she would be a fool to think she could accomplish that tonight. She would settle in and watch his body language; she’d wait for that moment when he started to relax. Another courtroom tactic with a practical application.

Her stomach rumbled, reminding her how little she’d eaten. She’d only managed a few crackers in the morning and a cup of soup at lunch.

Now? She was ravenous. Yes, she had a job to do here with Royce, but she also needed to take care of her baby and keep track of what she ate. With her finicky taste buds lately, it was all too easy to skip eating until she was nearly dizzy, like now.

Setting aside the tablet, she stood and made her way to the kitchenette, sidestepping the table where Royce tapped away at his computer. He glanced up just as she opened the minifridge.

Royce tipped back in his chair, eyeing her with heavy-lidded dark eyes. “That’s my food.”

“I’ll be glad to pay for my portion of this pudding cup and pear.” She tossed the fruit in the air and caught it with a quick snap. “We’re stranded. Do you intend to let me starve—or make me freeze out there ice fishing?”

He chuckled softly, a whiskey rich sound. “If you’re hungry, help yourself to anything in the pantry.”

“I am starving, actually. Bear hunting is quite exhausting.” She crunched a bite of the pear and searched for a spoon. “Can I make you something, to earn my keep and all? I imagine grading papers is tiring.”

“I’m fine. I ate earlier.” He toyed with his abacus key chain, thumbing the beads back and forth. “Thank you though.”

Inspiration struck and she sliced the pear instead. Suddenly, scooping the slices through the chocolate pudding sounded five-star awesome. Her taste buds seemed to vacillate between “no way” and “oh my God good,” these days.

Settling across from him again, she scooped and crunched, savored and watched. A lot of oh my God good for the senses around this place.

Sighing, he finally met her gaze. “What?”

Blinking fast, she smiled widely. “Sorry. Am I bothering you?”

“I’m used to working alone, in quiet.” His gaze homed in on her snack plate.

“Sorry the snowstorm didn’t accommodate. Truly. It could be days, so honestly, it will be easier if we make nice, perhaps talk a bit. You can’t work all the time.”

He closed his computer again and scooped up the key chain. “Fine. Let’s talk. Aren’t you worried I’m a serial killer?”

In a whisper, she asked, trying to ease him into a conversation. Tease him a bit. She had enough brothers to know this tactic would probably work. “Are you?”

“My answer isn’t going to matter.” The abacus beads clicked under his fingers. “You know that, right?”

He had a point, but he didn’t know she wasn’t operating blind here. She wouldn’t be able to carry this off long without risking alienating him altogether. “I’m an incredibly insightful person.”

“From meeting so many people at work.”

She looked up sharply. “Yes, actually.”

“Well, lucky for you, I’m not a serial killer. I’m just an antisocial scientist.”

“That must be tough to maintain in the classroom, Professor.”

“Works fine in a lecture hall.” He set his key chain down again.

Her mind zipped back to the first time she’d heard him speaking to an auditorium full of students and even professionals who’d joined the class to hear him. He saw the oil industry through revolutionary eyes. He walked a difficult line in making all sides of the spectrum happy, upping production while finding ways to increase safety and decrease ecological impact. His brain was every bit as sexy as his body.

O-kay.

Her distraction level was peaking.

She shot to her feet, tossed her empty pudding cup in the trash and popped the last slice of pear into her mouth.

“I thought you were going to eat and read?”

“I think I’m just going to turn in. Since you’re not a serial killer.” She winked.

He lifted an eyebrow. “Do you need some sweats?”

“I think I’ll be fine in my thermal leggings and undershirt. Although I may need to take you up on that offer of sweats tomorrow when wash time comes.” Guilt tugged at her. She really wasn’t playing fair. “Thank you for being so nice about letting me stay here.”

“Don’t be so quick to thank me. I may not be a serial killer, but that doesn’t mean I’m giving up my bed for you.”

And there he went being funny again, like with his litany against the bear. “I didn’t ask you to give me your bed.”

Although she couldn’t deny the raw attraction crackling tangibly in the air. The fire of it filled her mind with images of sharing that bed with him. Something must have flickered in her eyes because his widened, then narrowed, holding hers.

His head tipped to the side.

Nerves tingled along her skin, an unusual occurrence. She wasn’t one to back down. Ever.

Perhaps she could call this a retreat. She swallowed, trying to recover from the heat in his dark eyes. “The sofa’s more than fine. Thank you.”

His chair legs lowered to all four on the floor again. “It’s okay, Naomi. Take the bed. I’ll be working late, anyway.”

“But—”

The words died on her lips as he shook his head. “My mama wouldn’t have it any other way. Manners and all. I’ll sack out on the sofa. Good night, Naomi.”

Good night?

Sleep felt like the furthest thing possible.

* * *

Naomi woke up, legs tangled in the tan satin comforter.

It was dark overhead, but that didn’t mean anything in Alaska. She checked her watch and...holy cow. It was already five in the morning. She’d slept for nearly nine hours, out like a log. She shoved her hair back from her face.

When would she get used to these pregnancy hormones owning her body?

She was grateful for her baby, but she sure hadn’t expected so many physical changes in a couple of months. Slowly, she sat up, wary, but her stomach stayed steady.

Scanning the studio area, she looked for Royce but found the space empty except for the dog snoozing under the table. The computer was nowhere in sight. Apparently, Royce wasn’t leaving it unattended any longer.

Behind the wall that housed the headboard, she heard the shower running. That explained where her “roomie” was. And even though they’d both been in and out of the bathroom area last night, this was different. Thinking of him there, without his clothes, in that tiled shower sent a tingle down her spine clear to her toes.

She needed to distract herself. Pronto.

Naomi flipped back the covers, her fleece-lined leggings and undershirt soft against her skin. Thank goodness Alaskan weather meant layers. That left her with extra clothes while she stayed here longer than she’d expected.

She would sneak a call to her brother while she had privacy. Her backpack held the basics, just enough to seem normal on a day trip, and she refused to vainly wish for her closet full of clothes and makeup.

Focus.

She fished out her phone with the booster signal and dialed up her oldest brother, Broderick. With their dad in the throes of new love and planning a wedding, Broderick had become the de facto head of their family with orders from their father to make peace. Their dad had demanded that the Steeles and Mikkelsons unite as a family and a company. Get along—or sell their shares and move on.

Broderick had been charged with aligning the finances of the two companies, along with rival CFO Glenna Mikkelson. They’d surprised everyone by resuming their brief college romance...and now they were engaged and raising Glenna’s daughter together.

If Broderick and Glenna could balance romance and work, why couldn’t her father and his new “girlfriend” tend to the business angle, or at least participate more in the transition? The rest of them were barely treading water keeping up with the abrupt changes, keeping board members calm—and watching their backs as siblings on either side of the merged family jockeyed for top-dog position. The only Mikkelson son who seemed to be out of the running was Trystan, who managed their family’s ranch and insisted he wanted no part of anything that required a suit.

Naomi kept one ear on the shower and another on the phone. The call rang and rang, then went to voice mail. She tried again with no luck.

Looking at the one bar of connectivity, she knew her chance to phone out could be limited. Sighing, she quickly dialed her sister Delaney. She wasn’t as in-your-face as their brother about the business. But Delaney had a stubborn streak a mile long, especially when it came to ecological protection.

Perhaps her sister should have been her first call instead of Broderick.

Two rings in, Delaney picked up. “How’s it going?”

Naomi wandered to the curved sofa lining part of the igloo wall for a better vantage point to monitor the bathing area for the second Royce stepped out. “I’m getting to know him. But he’s not chatty. His dog’s a better conversationalist.”

Her sister laughed lightly. “But you’re talking to the great Dr. Royce Miller. That’s more than anyone else has managed to accomplish. I’m impressed.”

“I’ve got crazy-good lawyering skills.” She injected punch in her tone, more than she was feeling. She was fading fast energywise. What a strange, unexpected turn her expedition here had taken.

“That you do.”

“Was that an actual compliment?” Naomi teased, relaxing into the familiarity of a normal conversation with her sister. She was lucky to have a large family, three brothers and a sister. They were such a great support.

And as she thought of her family, she couldn’t help but think of her mother and her sister Brea, who were gone. Losing them had left such a hole in her heart—and a need for stability.

“Hey, was that insecurity, Naomi?” Delaney’s tone was anything but teasing. More like stunned.

Few knew that shy Delaney had far more fight in her than Naomi did. Delaney chewed up corporate types who showed disregard for the environment. Delaney’s latest target for scathing letters to the editors had been bigwig investor Birch Montoya, which did prove a bit problematic since the family business could use his financial endorsement, especially if they were to take on something as big as making Royce Miller’s style of changes.

If Naomi won Royce Miller.

“Insecurity?” Not that she would admit. “Never. It’s just nice to hear affirmation.” Especially at a time when she was questioning herself. So many changes. So many hormones. And she still had to face telling her family about the pregnancy. “Things are strange in the family right now. How were Dad and Jeannie at dinner last night? Sorry to have crashed early.” Pregnancy had made her so sleepy.

“Dad and Jeannie are the same. They’re like teenagers planning their wedding. Not that they’re waiting on the ceremony. That day Glenna and Broderick found them in the shower togeth—”

“Stop,” Naomi said fast, half laughing. “My brain is on fire with the image.”

“Imagine if we’d actually been there.” Delaney chuckled softly, then the sound dwindled. “The thing that’s starting to get to me though...if this was our mom and dad, we would think it was romantic. Granted, no one needs the full Monty.”

“Can you please stop with the naked references?” Her eyes drifted back to the shower area. To Royce. There was a sauna there too. Oh, the possibilities heated her thoughts.

Her warm forehead rested against the cool glass wall. Lights around the property barely pierced the blizzard.

“I never would have pegged you for a prude.”

Ouch, that stung, not that she intended to let Delaney know. “Well, it’s not like you’re in the middle of some torrid affair, either.”

Silence stretched between them.

Putting Naomi on alert. She straightened. “Are you?”

“My love life is tame. I’m too busy with work. You’re just imaging things after all that time you spent helping your friend revamp online dating profiles.”

Naomi sensed something in her sister’s voice beyond the simple teasing, but with a crackly cell phone reception, perhaps now wasn’t the best time to push on personal stuff. Though she couldn’t deny she was curious. “How’re things going with smoothing Birch Montoya’s ruffled feathers?”

“I’m working on it. It’s just...not that simple for me. I feel like we would be taking money from the devil, given his stance on protecting the environment.”

“Then that makes it all the more important for me to bring Royce on board to balance things out.” Naomi chewed her lip for a moment before adding, “It’s all so complicated.”

“The business as much as the family.” Delaney’s words carried a hefty sigh. “It’s not that I don’t want Dad to move on. I’m just having trouble with him choosing a life with her.”

And from all indications, Jeannie Mikkelson’s kids were having a difficult time with the shocker romance, as well. Sure, Jeannie’s husband had been dead for two years—of a heart attack. But the families had been at war for so long. So many harsh words and character assassinations had taken place. And the gossip. Someone went so far as to hint the Mikkelsons had played a part in the fatal plane crash that killed Brea and their mother—completely unsubstantiated and unbelievable. But investors were going to find it tough to overlook divisions so deep and public.

Naomi toyed with a lock of her hair. “Broderick is marrying a Mikkelson. Are you saying that’s a problem?”

“I’m just saying it’s not easy.”

Back in college, Broderick and Glenna had indulged in a poorly hidden brief affair, then split up. Glenna had married someone else and become a widow before reuniting with Broderick very recently.

“And now they have a precious baby.” A baby conceived when Glenna’s husband had an affair shortly before he came down with pancreatic cancer and died. And yet, Glenna and Broderick still loved Fleur unconditionally. They were in the process of making the adoption official after the baby had been abandoned by her mother.

Naomi’s hand slid over her stomach and she wondered if her child would have a father’s love someday.

“Fleur’s pretty awesome.” The smile in Delaney’s voice was unmistakable. “You should see her wave her fists. I’m certain she’s bumping my fist on purpose.”

“Of course she is,” Naomi joked right back. “Sing her an extra lullaby from Aunt Naomi.”

“You can’t carry a tune.”

“That’s why you’re going to sing it for me.” The shower silenced in the bathroom. Naomi’s heart did a flip against her rib cage. She really needed a game plan for dealing with the sexy scientist before he emerged. “Gotta go now. Love you.”

She thumbed her phone off fast and bent over to shove it in her backpack, making sure the security code locked the screen. The hair on the back of her neck prickled, as if she was being watched. She checked the dog, but Tessie was sound asleep and snoring which could only mean...

Naomi straightened slowly and turned to find Royce. Big and awake and sexy, he stood in low-slung sweatpants, towel-drying his hair. He watched her with so much heat in his eyes, she barely resisted the urge to drag a finger down the glass windows to check for steamy condensation.

* * *

Delaney Steele had a secret.

Sliding the cell phone into her coat pocket, she hoped what she’d been doing—was about to do again—wouldn’t wreck her sister’s plan with Royce Miller.

But she just couldn’t bring herself to tell Naomi.

Stepping out of her SUV into the snowy parking lot, Delaney braced herself for the walk into the Steele family headquarters. Wind whipped hard off the mountains, bringing a frosty bite against her cheek until she yanked up the deep hood of her parka.

Maybe Delaney was too adept at keeping things hidden, until it just became instinct. Such as how she wasn’t as shy as she pretended to be. Or how she’d kissed her sister’s boyfriend in high school. Or that she was scared of everyone’s dogs, but didn’t want to hurt their feelings.

Or how she fought survivor’s guilt every day of her life.

She’d pretended to have the flu before the fateful flight that had shattered her family. Her mother had discovered the faked fever. Delaney had begged her mom not to go. Silly really. She’d just wanted her to stay to go shopping for makeup. Naomi had offered to accompany Delaney instead. Case closed.

Their mom and sister, Brea, had left for the flight—late. If they’d been on time...

What-ifs could rule a life.

Messenger bag tucked under her arm, Delaney put her head down and trudged forward, boots crunching through the icy crust that no amount of salting and shoveling could clear on mornings like this one. Forward was the only way she knew, after all.

These days, with so many regrets, she lived each day determined to grasp what she wanted and not add a single new item to that list. So hell no, she wasn’t even close to being the crusader, the good girl her family believed. She’d only wanted to somehow make a mark, somehow help other families not suffer the pain hers had experienced.

She just hoped her current secret didn’t torpedo all of Naomi’s careful plans. Because Delaney was in so deep now, she wasn’t sure she could stop herself if she tried.

Three

Royce never would have imagined silk thermals on a woman could look sexier than any lingerie.

Not that he could think of any woman other than Naomi at the moment. This one was filling his every thought.

Which wasn’t a wise idea when they would be sharing a one-room studio igloo-cabin for an undetermined amount of time. It wasn’t like he could jog off his pent-up sexual tension outside. The snowstorm was still raging. Even getting his dog to make the requisite “nature’s breaks” outdoors was tough. Tessie bolted out into the igloo tunnel, had her moment and sprinted back into the shelter in record time. She shook snowflakes off her shaggy coat, creating a mini flurry indoors.

Too bad they couldn’t all just hibernate.

Last night, he’d kept his eyes averted when Naomi had come out of the restroom, because just the sound of her movements, the scent of her, was distraction enough. And yes, once he’d given up and stretched out on the sofa, he’d watched her sleep. The covers had been pulled up to her shoulders, but the moonlight had played over her face.

It had been a long time since he’d slept with a woman. More than a year. There were offers, but lately work had consumed his life. He didn’t have time for a relationship. This was a turning point in his research, everything coming together at just the right time.

To be honest, he was racing to finalize his work because the Alaskan pipeline production through Canada and into the Dakotas would ramp up sooner rather than later. If anything, the Steele-Mikkelson merger had accelerated the program since their major Alaskan competitor, Johnson Oil United, was sending signals of speeding their plans while the Steele-Mikkelsons were preoccupied with the merger.

And the more the businesses raced against each other, the more Royce worried. This wasn’t the type of industry to rush, and the Johnsons already showed some hints of corner cutting. Even minuscule miscalculations could prove deadly or leave long-lasting contamination concerns. He couldn’t afford distractions.

And no question, this woman was a major distraction.

There was something about Naomi...something he couldn’t identify that tugged at him, a feeling that he couldn’t shake. That there was more than met the eye with her. In a good or bad way? He didn’t know.

Although he did know he needed to be on his toes around her until he figured her out.

He looped the towel around the doorknob and reached for his Massachusetts Institute of Technology—MIT—sweatshirt, mulling over the best way to learn more about her. He needed to find a chink in that spunky facade, to see who she was on the inside and discover if a quirk of fate had truly brought her here. Or if there might be another reason she was holed up with him. Regardless, she intrigued him.

Tugging on the thick fleece, he stepped deeper into the room, aware of her sharp, analytic eyes. “So, you grew up in Alaska?”

“I did.” She curled her toes in her socks and sat on the edge of the sofa.

“Could you have handled that bear on your own?”

“Maybe. Okay, probably,” she said, smiling, her nose crinkling, knees bouncing nervously. “But I enjoyed watching you take over.”

“How magnanimous of you.” His dry tone cut her smile. She exchanged it for a wink before readjusting on the couch, a shift that revealed her curves more fully.

“Your ego seems solid.” She looked at him squarely, but her twitching increased.

He dropped to sit at the end of the sofa, searching her deep brown eyes. “What’s really going on here with you showing up?”

She stared back for a solid, sparking sixty seconds or so before shooting to her feet. “I have to go to the restroom.”

And just that fast, she bolted away, the bathroom door slamming and locking behind her.

* * *

Naomi had never been so glad to take advantage of a pregnancy symptom.

She had to use the bathroom at least twice as often these days, which made the one-facility situation here a tricky element she hadn’t considered in driving up to the secluded cabin. But as Royce had pressed her with questions, she’d been glad for the excuse to leave the room.

Brushing away morning breath went a long way too in clearing her sleep-fogged mind. Now that she’d had time to fully wake up, she had a plan.

She had decided to take a calculated risk.

Royce was a man of logic, a scientist. So, she intended to throw him for a loop, knock him off balance. Opting for outrageous remarks had worked well for her in the past in getting people to say things they might not have otherwise. And then with laughter and the sharing of even a little secret, they relaxed, revealing more as the rapport strengthened.

Such a tactic might well work in her favor now.

Naomi left the bathroom cubicle and leaned against the archway leading into the studio area. Royce moved efficiently in the kitchen, cooking bacon, sausage, and popping large slices of fresh wheat bread onto a toaster slab that fit in the fireplace.

Her mouth watered and her senses tingled on high alert. Because of her pregnancy or because of the man?

She reminded herself of her mission. She tugged the hem of her boring thermal shirt and asked, “Wanna play strip poker? I’ll trade you clothes for first dibs on that food.”

He glanced over his broad shoulder. “Do you always proposition strangers?”

“Only you.” She fluffed her dark hair, a seductive challenge in her subtle moves.

He turned his attention back to the meal at hand. Unfazed. A low, rumbling chuckle. “Ah, you’re being outrageous to get me to stop thinking and reveal—something?—to you.”

He was smart, quick-witted, not easily fooled. “Very insightful.”

“So sarcastic.” Facing him, she couldn’t help but notice the solidity of his chest beneath his MIT sweatshirt.

“But you’re talking to me now rather than hiding behind your computer.” He raised one brow and for a moment, almost too brief to register, a flicker of amusement danced across her face, smiling, bowing in...interest?

Dragging his attention from her back to the breakfast food seemed to be no easy task. He scrambled and flipped the eggs once more. His hands moved with such precision, the mark of a man with an ingrained attention to detail. Her mouth dried up at the vision of those hands paying precise attention along her body.

“True enough.” He stalked quietly toward the kitchen area, pulling out plates for each item.

His eyes met hers, and there it was—that pop of electricity, something warming her to her core. The fluttering in her stomach intensified. Not pregnancy related, but a reminder of what her future held.

Royce dumped the sausage links and bacon onto a plate, arranged them neatly in a row. He fished out the four pieces of freshly toasted bread. The yeasty smell mixed with the savory smell of bacon and sausage.

He met her gaze, held it before he spoke. “Keep your clothes. I could stand a big breakfast too. What do you want to discuss?”

Naomi scratched just behind her ear, collecting her cool after spending even more time drooling over the man than the food. Deciding her strategy as he set out fresh jams on the small counter in front of her. The spread was vast, especially given their minimalist setting.

Bacon, sausage links, fluffy eggs, toast. All things she didn’t even realize she was craving until now. Might as well feed one hunger pulsing through her and hopefully rein her thoughts in.

Tilting her head, she continued, “Since strip poker didn’t get a rip-roaring endorsement, let’s go with something more practical.” She sat back on the edge of the bed and hugged her knees. “I would enjoy hearing more about your work.”

“I told you. I’m a science professor.” His smile was taut, tense.

And his response? Vague as ever.

But his eyes sparked with something else when she held his gaze. Her pulse quickened...at the game of wits or at something else entirely?

Food. She needed to eat.

“Well I figured you weren’t a communications professor. Science is a broad field though. Care to narrow it down a bit? I assume you’re passionate about your career given how intensely you concentrate.”

With a sigh, he piled food on his plate. She watched him close his eyes, seeming to weigh his next words carefully. What felt like an eternity passed before he spoke again. His low voice a welcome rumble.

“I’m an engineer, actually. I work on oil pipeline construction and upgrades.”

“A mathematical as well as scientific field. Interesting. What do you enjoy most about the pipeline angle? I’m having fun envisioning you out there in the wilds, the bear master flexing his intellectual chops.”

“Still nosy.” A smile—well, a half smile—pulled at his lips. He arranged the spread on the table, down to the precise position of both of their plates. He gestured for her to join him.

“Why does it matter if I know what you do?” She walked over to the table, settling into the seat closest to the glass. The snow still poured down, muting the minimal rays of sunrise, giving the breakfast a hazy, romantic glow.

Brushing knees with him under the table only added to the intimacy.

“I’ve shared with you,” he dodged. She reached for the toast and then scrambled eggs as he continued, an edge of sarcasm tinging his tone. “Tell me more about being a delivery gal. How long have you had the job? Why did you apply to drive around in awful weather? Why did they hire you?”

“I told you, I’m a friend.” Stick with rule number one: keep the story as simple and unadorned as possible. Too many details would complicate things. She tucked her knees closer to her side of the table. “I volunteered to help him out.”

“Ah, right.” He shoveled a large bite of eggs into his mouth.

Either he wasn’t listening to her or he was trying to trip her up, which meant he was suspicious. With good reason.

Guilt pinched. Hard. He seemed to be a genuinely good guy and she wasn’t being totally up-front with him. It had all seemed so simple back home, the stakes for her family so high. And none of that had changed. She wanted security for her baby and she believed in her cause. She wasn’t as active as her sister on the issue of the environment, but her family’s company truly was the one most open to what Royce had to offer.

Bottom line, she deeply believed research like Royce’s helped reduce environmentally caused cancers, and the thought of saving others the grief she’d been through? She had to forge ahead.

“Tell me more about you? Family? Friends? Girlfriend who won’t be happy to find out I’ve been here alone with you offering to play strip poker?”

“I’m an only child,” he said, taking the bait as she shifted the topic. “My parents had me later in life and are retired. Girlfriends aren’t your concern.”

“Efficient answers. Sparse. But efficient.”

Like he was with serving up portions on his plate from the platter in the middle.

“I grew up in Texas around the oil fields. My father and mother worked hard. We had a comfortable life. I studied hard and it paid off with a full ride to college. I made good with some patents, which enables me to afford to hide out working in a luxurious glass igloo and pay for delivery of supplies,” he said simply, adding butter to his bread while it was still warm, the dab melting over the sides.

Kind of like her senses. He was eccentric, sure, but sexy as hell. The intensity in his eyes had disarmed her for a moment. She needed to press on while he was warming up into an unusually chatty mood.

“Texas to Alaska. That’s quite a leap geographically, not to mention the weather.”

“Oil. Pipelines. Common thread.” He lifted his mug of coffee.

“Ah, yes. Oil.”

“Hmm.” He offered up the nonanswer while adding jam to his buttered toast.

She was losing him here. Or maybe she was losing focus, because all she could think about was him in the shower. His buff chest, his strong arms. “Tell me about your childhood growing up in Texas?”

He glanced at her, that strong jawline causing her heart to quicken. Something like a crackle of awareness passed between them, something that seemed to hang in the air. “Growing up in Texas was a lot like growing up in Alaska, I imagine, but without the snow.”

“Since the snow is everywhere, how about spell it out for me more.” She bit into her own toast, indulging in the freshness of the blueberry jam.

“Both places have fishing, hunting, rugged living...and oil.”

“I applaud your concise way with words.” And yes, she was starting to struggle to keep her thoughts reined in with the sensory overload of savory food and muscle-bound man.

He shrugged one shoulder. “Concise.”

Royce’s attention wandered for a moment, eyes roving her, stopping at her mouth. His sudden movement caught her off guard as he reached across the table and thumbed the corner of her mouth. “Jam.”

He slowly licked his thumb clean. But his eyes didn’t leave hers.

Her heart did a flip. Her thoughts scattered like snow from the roof in a squall. So much for staying on her toes around him. About the only way she could envision being on her tiptoes involved arching up to kiss him.

* * *

Royce wasn’t sure why he’d opted to play with fire by touching Naomi. But damned if he regretted it.

Angling across the table, he skimmed his mouth over the corner of her lips, right where he’d grazed her with his thumb a second before. The taste of jam lingered.

As did the spark of attraction as he settled back into his seat.

She hadn’t objected. She wasn’t running. Granted, she appeared a hint shell-shocked with wise eyes. But her pupils widened with attraction. She was stunning, potent.

And he was drawn to her like a magnet.

He studied her through narrowed eyes. “You’re—distracting.”

“I’m sorry about that.” She sat back in the chair, and he couldn’t help but notice the way her spine arched and her breasts pressed against her shirt.

Distracting was an understatement. His normally targeted linguistic skills seemed to fail him. She was...intoxicating. That might be more accurate.

“I didn’t mean it in a bad way.” He held her gaze, watching the way her lips moved, parting ever so slightly. The touch a moment ago, the taste of her, had left him wanting more. Much more.

“Oh, thank you.” She exhaled hard. “Well, I guess there really isn’t any use in denying the sparks, is there?”

Her bright eyes searched his, an eagerness dancing there. One he wanted to act on. Damn the logic.

“Attraction is what it is. Even my scientific mind knows it’s not logical—but it is tangible.” He leaned forward on the table, his knee brushing hers. She stared at the point of contact, the place where electricity seemed to build, coursing through him.

“I’m not a judgy kind of person.” She lifted her head, fixating now on his mouth. But her knee didn’t move from his. The warmth of her body teased him as she continued, her voice lower as if confessing a secret, “but I’ve also never indulged in a one-night stand.”

“From the looks of the storm and the piles of snow out there, we’ll be here for far more than one night. If you’re so inclined to...indulge.” He eased from his chair and leaned a hip against the table, taking her hand, surprised for a moment by the softness of her skin, the strength in the way she squeezed him back.

“Logical point.” Her breath hitched audibly, her pulse speeding in her neck just below her diamond stud earring.

Were they really discussing this without ever even having kissed other than sharing a smudge of jam?

Although holding her hand, watching her reaction to that simple touch, turned him inside out with need.

“And I am a responsible man. I always have protection.”

Her husky laugh washed over him. “You carry condoms to an igloo in remote Alaska?”

“Did you hear me? I am a practical man. And a careful man.” He paused, looking down at his feet before continuing, the words heavy on his tongue. “My former fiancée got pregnant. We lost the baby, then broke up. If I’d been careful, I could have saved us both a lot of pain...”

Her hand rested on the back of his neck. “I’m so sorry for the hurt that caused you.”

“Thank you.” Pushing back against the memories, he glanced up at her again. “It was a long time ago. And damn, I don’t know why I brought it up at all. What a total mood buster. I just wanted to say that I have condoms.”

“Safe is always good.” Her fingers moved lightly along the back of his neck, both soothing and arousing.

His direct nature had sent him off course with people before, and he wondered if that was the case now. “So, have I totally wrecked the mood?”

“Wrecked the mood?” She angled back, toying with the tip of her ponytail in a way that totally set his senses on fire. Did she know what she was doing to him? “Dampened it perhaps. But I think the moment could be easily salvaged.”

Yes. Victory surged through him. “How so?”

She gave him an unmistakably sultry look. All thick lashes and parted lips. She raised an eyebrow, voice taking on a sweeter intonation. “You’re a smart man. Guess.”

Angling toward her, he slid his hand up her leg, watching her move into him with anticipation. He drew his head closer, lips a breath apart from hers.

The logical stuff? He would deal with that later. Because right now, nothing seemed more important than fully, thoroughly kissing Naomi.

Four

The moment Royce’s lips fully brushed hers, Naomi leaned into the kiss, unable to stop herself from soaking up the muscular feel and earthy scent of this man she barely knew. Throwing herself at a virtual stranger. Which was atypical for her.

Sure, she’d cultivated a wild child reputation for the past few years. Totally unearned other than dressing flamboyantly and being outspoken. But she’d felt compelled somehow to prove to her family she was vibrantly alive. Independent. She’d even stopped waiting around for Mr. Right and embraced the possibility of motherhood.

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