Читать книгу: «Rule Breaker»

One

Maybe a wiser man would have blocked her number.

Weston Rivera gripped his cell phone tighter as he paced from his home office into the sunken family room. He knew he couldn’t pretend he hadn’t seen the text from a certain sexy private investigator he really needed to avoid.

The sun was already setting outside, but he could still discern the faint outline of the Bitterroot Mountains framed through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The hulking, irregular peaks were partially shrouded by an incoming storm.

Swearing to himself, he peered back down at the message on his screen.

Any tips for navigating the Northeast Couloir trail? Just made camp but hope to summit in the morning.

Did he have tips?

As a proficient climber and mountain-rescue volunteer, he sure as hell had advice for April Stephens, the smoking-hot financial forensics expert who was an unwelcome guest at Mesa Falls Ranch. She should have never climbed a class-four trail in the winter by herself in the kind of weather brewing out there.

Too bad she hadn’t asked him before she started up the mountain.

He’d really thought he’d dodged April for good. The last time she’d cornered him at the ranch office, he’d made it abundantly clear that he had no comment about her investigation into the finances of Alonzo Salazar, a frequent guest of the retreat Weston owned with his brother and four other partners. Salazar had been a friend and mentor to all of them since they were teenagers. And he’d been there when a devastating accident had ended in a classmate’s death. Weston wasn’t about to speculate on what the man did with his money. Loyalty wasn’t something Weston took lightly.

Yet he hadn’t blocked the investigator’s number after that meeting, which had paved the way for today’s text message.

Was she baiting him? Looking for a way to restart their conversation and dig up dirt for her investigation? Or was she genuinely contemplating that climb? He’d heard from one of the trail guides that she’d visited a local outfitter for gear when she’d first arrived, so he wasn’t surprised she wanted to get out into the mountains. But a day trip was tough enough in the winter, even on the easier peaks.

Cursing again, he dropped down to the leather sofa close to the fireplace. A log popped and shifted, sending a shower of sparks against the screen. How should he respond? Obviously, he didn’t want her trekking back down the mountain by herself in the dark. But with the weather worsening by the minute, spending the night up there could be hazardous too. He knew he had an overdeveloped sense of caution where others were concerned, even if he was a risk taker himself. That cautious streak probably stemmed from the tragedy that had bound his fate to Alonzo Salazar’s more than a decade ago.

Where are you?

He banged out the words with more force than necessary, already knowing where this conversation was going to lead.

She replied with a link. Map coordinates like any good hiker would use, showing her exact position.

His chest eased a bit at first. If she knew about tricks like that, she surely had some solid climbing experience. Clearly, she understood the importance of knowing her location at all times. But as he zoomed in closer on the map to see where she had made camp, the tightness in his chest returned.

And then tripled.

Because April wasn’t camping in one of the safer spots like Gem Lake or Baker’s Lake. Instead, she wasn’t all that far from the Northeast Couloir. A notorious avenue for avalanche activity.

It didn’t matter how experienced a climber she was or whether she knew the risks. She was a guest of his ranch. Someone he felt responsible for. Now that she’d specifically asked for his advice on this ill-advised venture, he had no choice. He had to help.

Stay there. Keep phone on. Don’t light a fire. I’m on my way.

She might not be happy to see him. But Weston didn’t particularly care. Shoving his phone in his pocket, he took the stairs two at a time up to his bedroom to dress for a climb that he hoped like hell wouldn’t turn into a rescue effort. Just the thought of it turned his blood icy, and he hadn’t even set foot out of the house yet.

He already had one catastrophic event on his conscience. He couldn’t survive a second.

“‘I’m on my way’?” April Stephens read aloud from the text she’d received almost an hour ago.

Tucked in the sleeping bag laid over an insulated pad she’d rented from the local outfitter, April still couldn’t fight off the chill from her climb as she shut off her screen to save the phone battery. The shiver up her spine didn’t have anything to do with the knowledge that Weston Rivera, the rich and powerful rancher who’d been dodging her attempts to speak with him, was on his way to see her. The memory of his hazel eyes smoked through her, even though the last time she’d confronted him he had threatened to call security to have her escorted out of his office.

Why was he hiking up here now? In the dark?

Wind howled off nearby Trapper Peak and tore at her one-ply tent, making her wonder if her shelter had been the right choice for this trip. It was lighter, which had allowed her to bring the additional gear necessary for a winter climb. But she hadn’t counted on this level of heavy gusts. She’d thought she’d read up on the Bitterroot Mountains thoroughly, and she’d checked the weather before she started hiking, but somewhere during her trek this afternoon, the conditions had shifted dramatically.

That was part of the reason she’d reached out to Weston Rivera, who was well known around Mesa Falls Ranch for his mountaineering skills. Of course, there was more to her agenda than getting tips on the mountain. She’d hoped maybe their shared interest in climbing would spark a dialogue. Give her another chance at wrangling some answers from him regarding a case that was thwarting her at every turn.

She most definitely hadn’t expected him to drop everything to come to her. But the fact that he would do that—even though he’d made it obvious he wanted to avoid her—caused her to wonder if she’d overestimated her skills in making this climb on her own.

Guilt nipped at her nearly as hard as the bitter wind. Did he think she was in danger? She should have made it clear that she had a reasonable amount of climbing experience. She’d even tackled this mountain once before, just not this particular trail. She never did anything without studying all the angles first. It was a quality that made her excel at her job as a financial forensics investigator.

As soon as she’d received his cryptic text, she’d messaged him back a bunch of question marks in reply. Then she’d sent him an assurance she was fine, but she hadn’t heard anything else from him, prompting her to believe he really might be climbing a mountain in the middle of the night.

Unzipping the tent a couple of inches, she peered out into the inky blackness. She still wore her parka for sleeping, but she’d taken off her boots and gloves for the night. She felt more than saw the swirl of snow kicking up outside, the tiny flakes peppering her cheeks in a frigid blast. A gust of wind whistled past her ears, lifting the inner tent roof and whipping the outer fabric so hard she feared it might rip. The snow was coming down faster now. The powdery base had scaled the tent walls at least an inch since she’d pitched the shelter.

A little bubble of panic rose inside her at the feeling of being closed in. She’d been drawn to mountain climbing as a teen to escape the suffocating home life with her mother, who was then in the early stages of a hoarding disorder. April had climbed to find fresh air and freedom, a place without walls of crap threatening to fall on her everywhere she looked. Now, as an adult, she lived in a beautifully spare home of her own, but she felt the urge to climb whenever stress built from dealing with her mom. April still tried to help, making scheduled trips over to the house where she’d grown up to make sure her mom was still going to counseling and hadn’t fired the professional organizer who came through once a month. Her mother’s house would always be cluttered—to put it mildly—but at least things were at a habitable level.

Even knowing that she’d done all she could to make her mother’s disease manageable didn’t stem the memories of how bad things had been—and how quickly her mom could relapse. Which was why April hiked until her mind was clear again.

So now, as she took in the way the snow covered the lower zipper on the tent, almost as if it was going to block her exit, her heart pounded fast. Her face heated despite the cold, a sweaty fear crawling up her scalp and making her see pinpricks of light in front of her eyes.

Light?

Frowning, she focused on the glow bobbing in the blizzard. As it grew closer, the bright spot seemed to rise in the sky.

Coming toward her.

“April.” A man’s hoarse voice carried on the wind just as a dark shadow took shape in front of her.

Weston—wearing a headlamp—was stalking up the trail.

“Here,” she called back, her softer voice mostly lost in the wind. She found her flashlight just inside the tent and flipped the switch so he could see her.

As he entered the circle of illumination from her torch, she could tell how much conditions had worsened. He was covered with snow, from his jacket and pants to his helmet and balaclava. Even his goggles were coated. Knowing that he’d trekked through this weather to get to her filled her with new alarm.

He crouched down near the entrance to the tent, his broad shoulders blocking the wind. Close enough to touch. He raked his goggles up and switched off the headlamp. His hazel eyes locked on hers, his demeanor as serious as the last time they’d met when he’d threatened to call security on her if she didn’t leave his office. Only now, he looked concerned.

Worried, even.

“We need to move you,” he told her, his gaze never wavering. “Carefully and quickly.”

Confused, she shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

“You’re in a well-documented avalanche corridor.” He spoke the words clearly and almost kindly, as if he weren’t talking about the imminent possibility of a deadly accident. “And conditions are only going to deteriorate with this storm.”

She recognized now what he was doing. He was speaking to her like a rescue worker. Like someone used to dealing with people in terrifying danger. That manner of his, as much as the words themselves, sent a cold ball of fear into the pit of her belly.

“Why—” Her breath stuck in her chest, and she couldn’t breathe for a moment as panic spiraled into every corner of her body. “Why didn’t you tell me in your text? I’ve just been sitting here...”

She peered around the tent, calculating how long it would take to put on her gear. Another sharp gust tore at the outer tent. She was pretty sure she heard the fabric tear.

“Look at me. April.” He spoke patiently, his tone still kind even though she’d made a horrible mistake in coming up here. Risking her neck and his. “You were safer staying put than you would have been out there when you don’t know the nuances of this trail. But I know this area like the back of my hand, and I’m going to take you to a safer location.”

Nodding, she appreciated his calming presence while her mind raced. She had logged countless hours climbing in summer conditions, but not as many in the winter. One of her mentors back in Denver had told her that she should take an avalanche course, but she hadn’t gotten to that stage yet. Hadn’t known she’d need it for this peak so early in the winter. She felt foolish for endangering herself and—worse—Weston too.

He couldn’t possibly know how much she hated being in this position, feeling like she’d screwed up. Like she’d overlooked something important.

“Okay. Thank you.” Swallowing back her fear, she focused on his hazel eyes, needing to believe he was as confident as he sounded. “I’ll get my gear on.”

He moved her out of harm’s way quickly enough.

The knot of worry in Weston’s chest eased a fraction with each step they took away from the gully where she’d pitched her tent for the night. Avalanches were a real danger in that ravine. He hadn’t been a part of any rescue missions there, but there’d been another one ten years back that some of his team had experienced. Plus, he’d seen two avalanches with his own eyes on these peaks. Both had scared the hell out of him.

And conditions tonight were prime. He was so damned grateful he’d found her, and that she’d been safe. Whole.

The demons from his past had teeth, and they would still be gnawing on him when he closed his eyes tonight.

“Where are we going?” she called to him through the wind, her voice doubly muffled by her scarf.

They trudged side by side down the mountain, their pace slow in case of loose rocks under the snow. He’d offered her a second headlamp that he’d brought with him, but she had her own and wore it now. She’d been more prepared than he had anticipated, from her gear to her ease with packing quickly and efficiently.

She’d been scared, though. He’d read the fear easily in her body language from her blinking eyes and darting gaze to her jerky movements, signs that would have been clear even if he hadn’t been trained to deal with frightened survivors. He’d done his best to calm her once they were out of the most dangerous area, but he could tell she was spooked. And he’d damn well been reassured this wasn’t a setup on her part. She hadn’t baited him out onto the mountain just for a chance to interrogate him about his dealings with Alonzo Salazar, the subject of her financial investigation.

She would have had to be a good actress to fake the fear he’d witnessed earlier. The flash of panic in her blue eyes. The tremor in her voice. Although with her goggles on now, he had fewer cues to how she was doing.

“There are safe campsites this way.” They hadn’t gone far from her original spot, since he wouldn’t risk a fall in the dark in these harsh weather conditions, but they were out of the ravine and following a ridge he knew well.

“Shouldn’t we get off the mountain?” she pressed, leaning closer to him as she spoke.

If he’d been alone—yes. He would have returned to the all-terrain vehicle he’d left at a trailhead. But he wouldn’t risk it with April in tow. Sure, she seemed like she must be a strong climber on a regular day. But it was late; she had to be tired and most definitely stressed. Bottom line, he didn’t trust her sure-footedness or her judgment and couldn’t risk going any farther than necessary.

“Safer to make camp someplace I know will be protected until the storm passes.” He pointed to a spot tucked out of the wind ahead of them. Between a secure rock ledge and sheltering trees, there was far less snow here. “I brought a big tent with the highest weather rating.”

Stepping under the shelter of the ledge, he shed his backpack and unzipped it to dig out the gear. Only when he pulled off his gloves did he realize she’d stopped moving. A few steps behind him, she looked lost in the spotlight of his headlamp, snow almost reaching her knees.

She might have said something, but the words were lost in the wind.

Gesturing for her to come closer, he called, “I can’t hear you.”

He set his flashlight on the rock ledge so it shone down onto his backpack while April hopped down to join him. She wrenched off her goggles, taking her headlamp with them. He could see her blue eyes clearly now.

“You’re staying?” she asked, the question huffing into the cold air between them. “With me?”

Maybe it was because she didn’t seem frightened anymore. Or maybe it was because he knew they were out of danger here. But something in the way she asked reminded him how very appealing he found this woman. And how grateful he was that she was safe.

April Stephens had been a red-hot distraction from the first time he’d seen her. Then he’d discovered how good she was at her job as she started to uncover the long-kept secrets of his mentor. And tonight, he’d seen a grit in her that he never would have expected from a woman who looked like she’d be more at home on a glossy magazine cover than a Montana ranch—let alone on a mountaintop.

From the high cheekbones and delicate bone structure to her pillow-soft lips, she had an exquisite beauty that turned male heads. But better than that, she had a fiery determination that he admired, even if he’d been on the wrong side of it when they met.

“I didn’t hike all this way in the dark only to leave you alone now, April.” He couldn’t have held back the flare of anticipation now if he tried. Not that he was going to seduce a woman he felt responsible for tonight. But he couldn’t deny the sensual draw every time he was around her. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“That’s—kind of you.” She didn’t sound convinced of that, but at least her voice sounded stronger. Feistier. “But I have a tent of my own.”

She was already wriggling out of the straps of her backpack, plunking it down in the snow while he found his ice ax, which doubled as a mallet to pound in the stakes.

“You’ve got a tear in yours,” he reminded her. He’d heard the fabric shredding in the high gusts along the ravine before he’d helped her disassemble it. “Besides, this is meant for two people.”

His shelter was state-of-the-art. Everest winds wouldn’t take the thing down. Setup took less than two minutes since he was familiar with the equipment and accustomed to putting together a shelter in a hurry. He tossed his sleeping bag and insulated pad inside and then held the canvas flap door open for her.

She still clutched her own backpack uncertainly, wind whipping the ends of her hair that she hadn’t taken time to tuck into her hat. Lips pursed, she studied him and seemed to weigh her options.

That’s when the adrenaline letdown from the rescue mission kicked in, rushing through him in the form of sweet, sharp desire.

April must have been blinded by the snow-globe effect of white swirling between them, because she didn’t seem to notice. She took a deep breath and crawled inside the tent, giving him a view of lush feminine curves that didn’t do anything to put out the flames.

Swallowing back the sudden hunger for her, he ground his teeth while he watched her carefully remove her boots and leave them in the vestibule area. He tilted his face up to the snow, needing the cooling touch on his heated skin before he got anywhere near her.

No doubt about it, he was in for a long night ahead.

Two

The last time she checked, Weston Rivera didn’t even like her, April reminded herself as she tucked deeper into her sleeping bag in the roomy, two-person tent he’d put up as fast as a magic trick. So it was foolish of her to think she felt any kind of spark between them.

Especially in the frigid cold, on a windy mountaintop, after he’d risked his own neck to save hers. If anything, he should be irritated with her. Surely she was imagining the hot, simmering sensation as he stripped off his snow-covered outer layer. She watched him by the light of the lantern he’d set on the ground. Even in the harsh, bluish glare, Weston was ruggedly handsome.

His dark blond hair was long, past the collar of the gray flannel shirt under his parka. A light brown scruff of whiskers covered his jaw, calling to her fingertips to test the texture. With powerful shoulders and hazel eyes a woman could lose herself in, Weston possessed far too much masculine appeal.

Maybe she was the one feeling all the heat. She’d probably imagined the answering hunger in his eyes, her emotions on edge after having to be rescued from her own poor decision making tonight. Which reminded her: she owed him an apology.

The words were on the tip of her tongue when his thigh brushed hers as he slid off his work pants with the bright yellow reflective stripes on the legs. He wore pants underneath them, of course, but there was something terribly intimate about him undressing an inch away from her. Even in a two-person tent, the space was narrow—just big enough for their sleeping bags, side by side. The contact made her thigh tingle.

“Won’t you be cold?” she blurted, mostly to distract herself from the response she was having to him. She had kept most of her layers on, while her snow goggles, boots and outer waterproof mittens dried in the vestibule area. She even kept on a soft pair of inner gloves and the knit hat she’d worn under her ski hood.

She’d kept the inner fleece from her parka and the base layer of her ski pants too, since she’d shivered all the way over from the first campsite. She wasn’t sure if it was a true physical chill or just a cold feeling she had in her belly from discovering she’d pitched a tent in an avalanche zone.

“No.” Weston leaned back in the sleeping bag, so that he was almost lying down beside her. But first, he draped his discarded jacket on top of the sleeping bag, and then arranged his pants so they rested above his legs. “I use them like extra blankets. They’re uncomfortable if I keep them on, since I carry a lot of gear in the pockets.”

With the layers configured the way he wanted, he lifted the lantern and held it above her as he propped himself on one elbow. His breath huffed in the light as he spoke again. “Can I shut this down for the night?”

Her throat dried up at the sight of him so close. A rush of gratitude filled her that he’d done so much to help her and keep her safe tonight. But that appreciation was bound up with so many more complicated feelings. Conflict. Attraction. Regret that she’d put him in this position at all.

“Yes,” she rasped on a husky breath. “I’m all set.”

The memory of what he looked like in that moment—big strong arms, powerful chest and tender concern in his eyes—would be burned on the backs of her eyeballs for long after the tent went dark.

Now, her ears became more acutely attuned to the sounds around her as he shifted in his sleeping bag. A knee grazed hers, the warmth of his body inspiring a heat that didn’t have anything to do with actual core temperature. Outside the wind whistled and howled, but the tent fabric seemed impervious, stretched as tight as her nerves as Weston lay in the inky blackness with her.

“Thank you for coming out here tonight.” The words were easier to say in the dark, when she couldn’t gauge his expression or see his body language. She’d been confused by both in the past, unable to really read him. “I’m sorry to have ruined your evening with an unplanned trip up the mountain, but I’m grateful.”

On his side of the tent, he stilled. Maybe he’d just settled into a comfortable position.

“I got into mountain-rescue work to help people in trouble. But ideally, I’d rather prevent an accident before it happens.” When he spoke, his words were so close to her ear, she realized he must be on his side.

Facing her.

She swallowed. Tried to focus on his words and not his nearness as she burrowed deeper into her sleeping bag while attempting not to move too much. She lay on her back, wary of getting any closer to him when she felt vulnerable and, yes, a little scared of what the weather might bring tomorrow. The snowstorm had kicked up into a major event so quickly that it had seriously rattled her confidence on the mountain.

“Yet climbing up here, in the dark, to make sure I got out of there safely? That was above and beyond. I didn’t mean for you to take a risk in these deteriorating weather conditions.”

Guilt bubbled up in her. She should have tracked the weather more carefully, but the storm had arrived much faster than the forecasters had predicted.

The deep timbre of his voice rumbled through her. “It was better for me to make the climb to help you in person. Not knowing you that well, I didn’t want to send you a text that could potentially scare you and have you scrambling around on dangerous terrain.”

He’d said as much before, but it didn’t make her feel any better about him risking his neck for her sake. What if he’d been injured in the attempt to help her? A whirl of what-ifs spun through her brain. She knew how seemingly innocuous events could lead to major consequences. She remembered all too well the chain of events that had brought her mother to her current state.

“I do have GPS equipment. I could have followed directions,” she insisted, not wanting to be the cause of anyone else’s trouble. She preferred to be self-sufficient after the years of relying on her mother for care that she’d been incapable of giving. Looking for strength within was her go-to coping mechanism. Besides, the part that really bugged her was that she’d messaged him tonight to find common ground with him for the sake of her investigation.

She’d been fishing for answers, and he’d been completely selfless. The disparity didn’t sit well with her.

“With the storm coming in, I knew conditions could change from moment to moment, and that really impacts which way out of the ravine is safest. It was easier to check out the snow and the wind for myself than to give you instructions from my living room.” He said it matter-of-factly, like it was an obvious solution.

She bit her tongue for a moment to keep herself from arguing with him since, bottom line, she was grateful. She’d had no idea she’d put herself in such danger tonight.

“Thank you,” she said, her gaze wandering over the shape of his shoulder in the darkness as her eyes adjusted to the lack of light. “I feel even worse about you being here, though, considering the way we last parted. I know I’m not high on your list of favorite people.”

In the quiet moment that followed, she heard nothing but the wind and the soft plunk of fat snowflakes on the tent roof.

“Your job puts us at odds,” he said finally, his words sounding carefully chosen. “And, until tonight, I haven’t gotten the chance to know you outside your investigation.”

She couldn’t help a wry laugh, caused by the guilt and vulnerability of her position. “I don’t think tonight is going to raise your opinion of me now that I’m the hapless ranch guest you had to rescue in a snowstorm.”

“We’re going to be fine, you know,” he reassured her, his tone gentle.

Through her sleeping bag, she felt his hand cover her forearm, giving it a comforting squeeze.

Everything inside her went perfectly still. Unbidden, memories of seeing him in the stables with the horses came back to her. She’d observed him unaware before she cornered him in his office to question him. He’d been a wizard with a skittish gelding, calming the animal’s restless movements with his steady presence until the horse rested its muzzle on his shoulder and let out a soft sigh.

She’d been mesmerized by Weston then. Just like now.

“You’re not worried about how much snow we’re getting?” The climb down could be difficult.

“No. And you shouldn’t be, either.” His hand didn’t move away from her forearm.

She felt her heartbeat there, as if her blood pulsed harder through her veins in the place where he touched her. So weird. So...intriguing.

A wave of warmth stole over her, sweet and pleasurable. Tempting and oh, so dangerous. She couldn’t afford to let herself be charmed by him. Not when she still had a job to do.

“In that case, I’ll try not to think about the storm.” What she needed was a distraction. A way to take her mind off the snow. Off the sexy and disarming man lying beside her in the dark. “We could talk about the job I have to do, instead. As long as we’re both here.”

Still, he didn’t move his hand away. That surprised her a little, since she guessed the topic would insert some much-needed frosty distance between them again.

“We could,” he said easily, as if he’d really thought it over. “But since you’re sharing my roof tonight, and I climbed all this way to save your lovely hide, I think the information is going to cost you.”

“Is that so?” She turned her head toward him to see if she could discern his expression. Read his mood. But his face was still in shadow, even if she could see the outline of his broad shoulders.

“Definitely.” His voice took on a silky note as he skimmed a touch up her arm to her shoulder.

Her heart rate doubled.

“What are you suggesting?” she asked, with a hint more breathlessness than she would have liked.

“I think a kiss per question would be fair,” he told her evenly.

So much for frosty distance. She felt a wave of heat as surely as if someone switched off the snow and turned on a fireplace, and that was the last thing she needed.

“I don’t think anyone has tried coercing me into kissing since junior high,” she told him drily.

He had the good grace to chuckle. “No coercion intended. Are you sure you can say the same for yourself? Because I won’t feel as good about the rescue attempt if you were only hoping to ask me questions about Alonzo Salazar again.”

Guilt pinched at her conscience again.

“Fair enough.” She turned over in her sleeping bag to face him, realizing she needed to be on her toes with this man. “Although I’m not sure it speaks well of your kissing skill that you leverage it to discourage me from talking about my c-case.”

A shiver rolled through her.

“Are you warm enough?” He slid his coat off his bag and laid it over hers. “This will help.”

“Thank you.” She fidgeted more in an effort to get comfortable and warm.

“And I have total faith in my kissing skills, for what it’s worth. But I took a gamble you were one of those women who won’t mix business with pleasure.” The last word sounded oddly erotic in the dark. He paused a moment, and then added, “Would you like some help with your bag?”

Weston had thought maybe acknowledging the attraction between them would reroute that busy mind of hers, since she’d been worrying about the weather and feeling guilty for getting them snowed in together.

So his intentions for the flirtatious direction of their conversation had been mostly good. But he had been unable to distract her, and now she sounded chilled.

“I’m trying to find the drawstring so I c-can pull the fabric around my face,” she admitted, her shivering more obvious now.

Concerned, he reached for his flashlight.

“Let me,” he insisted, clicking the torch on to the lower setting and pointing it away from them so as not to blind her.

He could see she’d wriggled her sleeping pad off to one side. The material was now bunched between them where it wasn’t going to help her stay warm. His coat had fallen off her too, no doubt because she was struggling with the puffy down to find the drawstring.

Cursing himself for getting distracted by his attraction to her, he shifted back to professional mode. Her safety came first.

“I’m going to work fast, okay?” He didn’t want to surprise her by manhandling her, but he also didn’t want to linger outside his own sleeping bag given that the temperature was probably hovering around fifteen degrees.

She nodded uncertainly, her blue eyes locked on him.

Getting to his knees, he leaned over her to retrieve his coat. Then, he wrapped one arm far enough around her to lift her shoulders. With his other hand, he tugged the corner of the sleeping pad back where it belonged, trying not to notice her soft curves pressed against his chest for one delicious moment. Once he had that smoothed out, he felt along the zipper near her shoulder until he found the drawstring and gave it a tug. The puffy down closed in around her face, leaving just her eyes, nose and highly kissable mouth visible.

Finally, just when the chill was starting to really bite through his clothes, he laid his coat over her and retreated to his own sleeping bag. He burrowed down fast, zipping up the fabric all the way.

“You must be freezing.” Her gaze tracked his movements in a way he welcomed.

That flattering caress of her eyes was the only thing keeping the cold at bay now.

“The temperature has definitely dropped a few degrees,” he admitted. “I’m going to wait a minute before I turn off the light.” He wanted his arms to warm up first.

“You should take your coat back.” She lifted her head a bit as she turned to look at him since her peripheral vision was impeded by the bag. It made her look like a mummy.

“I have a better idea.” He didn’t want her to give up the coat. “If we share it, we’ll both be warmer.”

“Okay.” She nodded her assent.

“Just until the chill goes away,” he assured her, already warmer at the thought of holding her against him.

“Of course.” Her breath huffed out in a cloud between them. “I’m not worried about anything...more happening when we’re on the verge of icing over.”

He suddenly didn’t feel one bit icy, but he didn’t plan on sharing that with her. Sliding one arm free of his sleeping bag, he snaked it under his coat and wound it around her midsection. He pulled her to him, so her back was to his chest, her rump tucked into his lap.

She made a soft squeak, but she pressed into him, her body plastering itself to his through the layers of down between them. For a moment, he simply held her there, his nose pressed into the back of her hood, his arm brushing the underside of her breasts. She felt good.

Not just because she was warm. April Stephens was soft and pliable in his arms, fitting just right. He slid his other arm under her head for a pillow, figuring she’d keep him warm enough. The protective urge flared along with a lot of other urges he wasn’t going to think about.

Much.

“Better?” He spoke the words against her neck through the sleeping bag.

He felt a shiver go through her, but he’d be willing to bet this one was the good kind.

“Much.” When she spoke, the vibration of sound hummed along his arm where he held her.

With the snow falling in soft swishes against the canvas tent and a beautiful woman spooned against him, he could almost forget they were still in a potentially dangerous storm. How long had it been since he’d slept with someone in his arms all night? Normally he avoided relationships with those kinds of expectations. He never would have imagined that the financial forensics investigator would be the one who broke his private, unspoken rules about sleepovers. He’d sworn off deeper relationships after he and his brother had fallen for the same woman back in their college days. Brianna had wreaked havoc on him, but she’d done an even worse number on his brother.

“How’s your nose?” he asked after a long moment, knowing frostbite could set in fast. “I think that’s the only place you have to worry about now.”

“Mmm.” She made a sleepy sound and snuggled closer to him, her hips rocking in a devastating swivel.

And damned if his body didn’t answer the call.

Grinding his teeth against those urges, Weston let go of her long enough to flick off the flashlight. Then, he went back to holding her.

Tomorrow, he’d have to deal with the fallout from coming to her rescue tonight. He wouldn’t be able to ignore her anymore after this, wouldn’t be able to threaten to call security if she asked too many questions. For that matter, he’d be dodging her queries about his former mentor the whole way down the mountain while he tried to keep her safe through a potentially dangerous descent.

But since tomorrow would come soon enough, he wasn’t going to borrow trouble now. For a few hours, at least, he planned to enjoy the hot dreams sure to come from having a sexy woman curled in his arms like she was meant to be there.

Three

Sunlight pried at April’s eyes the next morning.

Too early, she thought, for it to be so bright. Her body was exhausted. And hot.

Pulling herself from layers of sleep, she struggled to figure out why she’d be so warm. Her limbs were pinned by a heavy weight on one side. Her nose was buried against...a man?

Memories of the night before returned in a moment as blinding as the sun streaming across one side of her face. The avalanche threat. The trudge through deep snow only to make camp with Weston. Falling asleep in his arms.

Which was a spot she’d clearly enjoyed, based on the way she was wrapped around him now like a second skin. How had her sleeping bag unzipped enough to allow so much proximity? She had one arm threaded under his to splay across his strong back. One thigh tucked between his. Her cheek and nose were pressed tight to his chest, where his heartbeat slugged. The fabric of the thermal shirt he wore hugged every inch of him as tightly as she did.

But the point of all the heat she felt was focused in the cradle of her hips, where the most intriguing part of his anatomy stirred.

Her breath caught in a strangled gasp as she scrambled back.

Weston let go of her immediately, making her realize he’d been awake the whole time. Which only added to her flustered state.

“Good morning.” His voice was rough from sleep, his tone polite and reasonable, though she detected a hint of mild amusement.

“Is it?” she asked, confused to note her covers twisted around one knee while the rest of her remained under the warmth of his heavy coat.

Her gaze went to his body, where she caught a glimpse of his powerful legs and narrow hips before he shifted his own sleeping bag over him like a blanket.

“We’re still here,” he reminded her. “Whole and warm, ready for another day. I’d call that good news after the weather conditions we faced last night.”

Belatedly, she noticed the snowdrift on one side of the tent was almost halfway up the canvas wall. No doubt that had helped insulate them against the cold, along with the natural body heat they’d gained by wrapping themselves around each other.

“I don’t know how my sleeping bag unzipped.” She couldn’t help but raise the issue, since it embarrassed her to think she’d helped herself to Weston’s body during the night.

She liked to think she had a stronger-than-average sense of personal space. Healthy boundaries. And while she’d been fine with pressing together through the fabric of two down barriers when they’d been trying to go to sleep, she felt completely undone at the idea of waking up with her leg between his thighs.

Lifting her gaze to his face, she was stunned all over again to notice how little space still separated them. During the night, at least, it had been dark enough that she couldn’t see his perceptive hazel gaze on her.

“You probably did that in your sleep.” He was a kind man to give her a face-saving excuse for why she was attached to him like a barnacle this morning. “I woke up a couple of hours into the storm and realized I was burning up, so I unzipped my sleeping bag and used it like a blanket.”

“Hmm.” She was all too aware of how hot things had gotten during the coldest night she’d ever spent outdoors.

Talking about it wasn’t going to make her any less flustered.

If anything, her body still tingled with awareness everywhere she’d touched him. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so alive, like every nerve ending had been awakened at the hands of this man. Why did he have to be someone so important to her investigation? For a moment, she wondered what might have happened between them if she didn’t have that professional duty holding her back.

Well, that and the fact that Weston was anxious for her to take her questions and leave Mesa Falls Ranch. She couldn’t do that until she’d tracked down answers, and she’d do well to remember that barrier between them since she’d been so quick to tear down the physical ones. Her subconscious obviously wanted him, even if the rest of her knew that was a very bad idea. She needed this job. The order, the respectability had saved her in so many ways. Without it? Hell, she couldn’t even consider risking her job for anyone.

“How do you feel this morning, April?” he asked, jarring her from her worries. “Are you ready to try the descent now that the snow has stopped?”

Sunlight beckoned.

And so did the chance to resurrect boundaries with the compelling man next to her.

She nodded, already mentally ticking through today’s to-do list to keep herself from thinking about Weston. “I can have my gear packed in five minutes.”

Her five-minute prediction turned out to be optimistic. April hadn’t counted on how much the deep snow would hamper her efforts, or how much her mother’s phone calls would distract her.

She’d ignored the first two times the notifications chimed as she laced up her boots and loaded her backpack. But by the third time the chime sounded as they began the descent, she was too worried not to pick up.

Weston had insisted on walking in front of her to check the soundness of the snow. He’d given himself the much harder job in the process, since his powerful stride cleared a path for her. Even so, the deep, fluffy powder was exhausting to wade through.

“Mom?” she answered once she fished the device from her pocket, knowing she needed to make this brief. For her own safety, she had to focus on what she was doing. “Is anything wrong? I’m on the mountain, so it’s not the best time—”

“I just wanted you to know that I’ve fired the cleaning service.” Breathing heavily, her mother sounded tearful.

Anxiety spiked, but April tried not to let it explode into full-blown panic. The cleaners were expensive because they specialized in helping people like Holly Stephens. April had hired them, not her mom, so she didn’t think they could be fired so easily.

“I’m sorry they’ve upset you.” She dragged in a long breath of the cleansing cold, preparing to smooth things over with the company. “Can I speak to Emily and maybe I can get things sorted out?”

“It’s too late for that!” Her mother’s voice rose an octave. “I tried calling you before it came to that, but you were too busy to help.”

April swallowed convulsively. She loved her mom, but she hated this stress. It was difficult enough when she was in the same town as her mother, but now, many miles from her Denver home, there was nothing she could do to fix things.

“I’m sorry, Mom.” She kept her voice low, hoping Weston couldn’t hear all of this. Even though he wore a fleece headband around his ears today instead of a balaclava, she wasn’t banking on it. “I’m in Montana right now, hiking through snow and hazardous conditions or I would come over—”

“It’s no problem.” Her mother cut her off, a new curtness in her voice. “I just wanted you to know so you didn’t harass me about the cleaning company anymore. Emily wanted me to throw out one of the brand-new bolts of fabric. Have you ever heard of such waste?”

With some murmured words of sympathy, April was able to extricate herself from the call a few moments later, but the worry remained. Keeping her mother safe required more time and money every year, sacrifices April would gladly make if it truly helped. But when her mom resisted more and more frequently, it made her efforts feel futile.

“Everything okay?” Weston called back over his broad shoulder, lifting his goggles to look at her.

For a moment, as she saw the concern in his expression and heard it in his voice, she allowed herself to wonder what it would be like to have someone like that in her life. Someone who cared about her daily trials. Someone to share the burden with.

It was a crazy, foolish thought for someone like Weston to inspire, since he was decidedly off-limits as a key to her investigation. Besides, the life of a wealthy and influential rancher was a world apart from the one she lived.

“Everything’s fine,” she lied, needing to resurrect some mental and emotional boundaries with the man she’d spent a memorable night with.

“Didn’t sound fine.” He slowed his pace so she could catch up with him, his hazel gaze tracking her, sliding right past those boundaries she needed. But perhaps he read her reticence in her eyes, because he changed topics as she neared him. “Are you warm enough? Am I going too fast?”

Grateful for the reprieve from talking about her mom and even more grateful to seize on the topic of climbing, which had always been her favorite escape from her home life, she launched into questions about the terrain. How he read the snow, how he could tell what kind of surface was beneath it, what to look for when gauging avalanche conditions.

All things she was interested in. All much safer topics than her mom. If only she could distract herself from her attraction to him as easily.

It didn’t take an expert in body language to read April’s cues.

Weston had seen the guardedness in her expression after her tense phone call, so he’d given her an out and she’d grabbed it like a lifeline. At first, he’d thought she was just trying to distract him from asking questions, but her curiosity about the Bitterroot Mountains and his rescue work revealed a dedicated climber’s knowledge. He found himself enjoying the long trudge down to his truck, a trip that took far longer than it should have given the depth of the snow. Besides, he knew she’d been exhausted the night before. He didn’t want her to deplete her energy completely.

Plus, he was glad to forge a connection on another level after the awkward way she’d awoken in his arms that morning. He didn’t know who’d made the first move to initiate the contact, but he’d never forget the feel of her soft and warm in his arms. She didn’t know that he’d emerged from sleep before her, or that he’d found his hand tantalizingly affixed to her breast. Thank goodness she didn’t know. Breaking that contact had been what had awoken her. Those sensory memories had tormented him all day long.

Now, as they paused for a water break and a shared protein bar, he found himself wanting to know more about her. About what caused those shadows in her eyes after the call from her mother. He understood something about painful family relationships. And while he wasn’t in the habit of revealing details of his personal life, he couldn’t help but think that a shared experience might help her, if only to remind this strong, capable woman that she wasn’t alone.

After capping the water, they renewed their trek. The path widened and the incline decreased, making the walking easier. She stayed close to him, her cheeks flushed pink from the exercise, but she kept pace without a problem. He’d done this descent hundreds of times himself, so it was simple enough to focus on her. The conditions were solid here even with the foot of fresh powder. A winter wonderland glittered all around them, dazzling white from the intense sun.

“I won’t ask you about your family,” he began, hoping to put her at ease. “But I can tell you that living far from mine has improved my relationship with them.” Which still wasn’t saying much, considering they hardly spoke. But it was better than the hurtful exchanges they’d had all too often when he lived on the family’s ranch.

“You’re fortunate you have that option,” she said tightly, breath huffing in the cold air.

“I realize that. I’m often reminded how lucky I am to have a brother who has never made a misstep in his life at the helm of our family’s ranch.” Weston wasn’t exactly bitter. It was tough to hold a grudge against Miles when he’d never done a damned thing wrong. “But I found it frustrating to continually fall short of my parents’ expectations for me.”

“You’re the black sheep?” She sounded surprised.

“That’s putting it kindly.” On second thought, the tension in his shoulders just thinking about the Rivera family made him realize how much he didn’t care to unearth old pains, even for her benefit. “But it did help to put some physical distance between me and them. Do you have siblings?”

“No. Just me.” She was quiet for so long he nearly replied, but then she continued. “And my mother isn’t someone I can leave alone for long. She has a hoarding disorder, in addition to some other issues that aren’t as obvious or well managed, and I worry about her safety when I’m not with her.”

“That sounds stressful.” He didn’t know what he’d been expecting, but it hadn’t been that. “Is she getting treatment?”

“Not as much as I would like.” April’s boots trudged a soft rhythm beside his, and he took in how she tucked her thumbs under the straps of her backpack as she redistributed the weight on her shoulders. “The condition was only recently reclassified as a distinct mental health issue, and I feel like her current doctor isn’t doing all she can to help with my mother’s specific problems.”