Frozen Page 2

  And I’ve never been pushed away, never had a man throw a gruff, “Forget that. It was a mistake,” at me before walking out.

  I hadn’t forgotten it—but I hadn’t blamed him, either. It could have been a mistake. If we’d slept together, any conflicts on site might have taken an ugly turn. Even a kiss was a bad idea…yet I liked that he hadn’t been able to resist.

  I wasn’t looking for trouble, though. So I’d dialed my attraction back—outwardly, at least. When I’d seen him again, it might as well have been our first meeting. Erik was still easygoing, still showing those flashes of humor, but he was completely focused on the job. I did the same. The project had progressed smoothly, and ten months later, the day after D&E’s final pay estimate had been approved, I’d called Erik and asked him to dinner.

  His reply? “It’s impossible. Goodbye, Miss Martin.”

  Five abrupt words. He’d hung up before I could respond, and I’d been left staring at my phone with a hollow ache opening up in my gut.

  I wasn’t heartbroken. I wasn’t. I was just…sorry. That had been one hell of a kiss, and nothing I’d learned about him in our frequent meetings afterward made me question my attraction. I’d liked him. A lot. So desire had sharpened into quiet, painful need, and for ten months I’d carried around the hope of picking up where we’d left off. Everything inside of me had been screaming that Erik Gulbrandr would be The One, and that he was just as interested in me as I was in him.

  But I’d been wrong. My hormones had been screwing with my instincts again. And after that cold rejection, I’d been determined not to waste any more time on him.

  Perhaps I’d have been successful if, two months later, John Gulbrandr hadn’t decided to add a construction arm to his firm. He’d offered my bosses at D&E an obscene amount of money and folded the company into Gulbrandr Engineering. I only glanced once at the salary he offered me before I went, too, but the money hadn’t been my only reason. At D&E, I couldn’t have advanced any further than project supervisor. I loved the construction work, but I had my eye on a position in project development. After ten years of coming in on a job after all of the development work had been completed, I wanted to take a stab at helping to bring the projects to life, and Gulbrandr’s firm was big enough to accommodate me.

  I’d only hesitated once: when I realized I couldn’t avoid seeing Erik again, which didn’t fit my plan to forget about him. Then I’d decided the firm was big enough to accommodate me and Erik Gulbrandr.

  After that kiss, we’d kept everything between us professional. Surely we could do the same if I took the job at his firm.

  So we did. At our first meeting, a hard expression had frozen his features and he’d subjected me to his glacial, penetrating stare—maybe wondering if I’d mention the kiss or give him grief over rejecting the dinner date. But I’d simply offered him my all-business nod, and after a long moment, he’d done the same.

  And that had been that. Not an unprofessional look or a touch between us in six months, though we regularly saw each other at the firm’s weekly progress meetings. It hadn’t taken me long to figure out that his charm and humor had been damage control, because I never saw any sign of them again—only that same icy politeness. Erik’s coldness had stung at first, but after a while I was grateful for it. In the past few months I’d heard rumors from the engineering division that Erik’s temper had been short and hot. I’d never seen evidence of it, but I knew everyone had been tiptoeing around him, and I didn’t want to become a target for his anger. So despite my hope to move out of construction, I’d been content to stay in that division a little longer, finishing the projects I’d come into the firm with.

  I’d been content…but I hadn’t been able to put him out of my mind. Every time I imagined sex, I imagined Erik. I no longer hoped for something happen between us, but I couldn’t stop myself from noticing him. I was more aware of Erik than I’d ever been aware of any other man. And, by God, I resented that. I resented how I stopped to listen when I heard his name mentioned. I resented how the sound of his voice could start a trembling ache deep inside me. I resented that my attraction hadn’t faded—especially because Erik’s obviously had.

  I resented that it had been so damn easy for him to file me away as a mistake.

  But I didn’t intend to act on that resentment. My job was worth more to me than that—worth enough to trudge through a quarter mile of snow for, at least. So I would just follow my original plan: knock, get in and out, ten minutes.

  I rounded the final bend in the driveway. My steps slowed as I got my first look at the house ahead. Not even a house. More like a castle. A small fortress. Nothing like the Alpine-style lodge that I’d expected.

  Granite blocks formed solid walls. At the ground and second levels, the only windows were narrow arrow slits. To my astonishment, a portcullis had been suspended from the gatehouse ceiling. Its sharp spikes dangling over the recessed entrance, where a heavy wooden door waited. Iron bars guarded the full-sized windows in the third story. Two corner towers overlooked the front of the house, each topped by a conical roof. Long icicles hung from the eaves.

  Absolutely unreal. I wouldn’t have been surprised to see Rapunzel brushing her hair in the turret room. What in the world had possessed the Gulbrandrs to buy—or build—a place like this?

  I’d be able to ask him. As I approached the gatehouse, the front door opened and Erik emerged, wearing faded jeans and a gray t-shirt that clung to his broad chest. My stomach clenched at the sight of him, just as it always did.

  I resented that, too.

  “Olivia?” His voice thunderous, Erik strode out of the shadows within the gatehouse. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  My step faltered. That wasn’t ice. That was fury.

  Erik stopped three yards away. Even at that distance, his height was overwhelming. He stared down at me. His eyes didn’t seem glacial now, but burning with hot blue flames.

  “Turn around.” The words were as rough as gravel. “Get the fuck out of here. Now.”

  Too stunned to reply, I just shook my head. This wasn’t the plan. He’d be coldly polite. I’d be indifferent. I hadn’t prepared for anything else.

  But I’d been yelled at before. I’d dealt with pissed-off workers, protesters, and neighbors awakened by construction noise. The best response was putting on an impassive expression and explaining my position as evenly as possible.

  I withdrew the manila envelope from my bag. “Your dad has papers for you to sign. He said it’s important that they’re sent out today.”

  “Fuck my father. Go.”

  Anger finally boiled through my shock. “I just walked up your goddamn drive to bring these to you.” I flung the envelope. It helicoptered toward him and hit his chest before flapping to the ground, one corner embedded in the snow. “So sign them. Then I’ll go as fast as I can. Gladly.”

  My voice shook at the last. Erik’s jaw tightened and he glanced up at the sky before closing his eyes. On any other person, his expression might have seemed pleading.

  He bent to sweep up the envelope. “Come in, then.”

  After all that, I didn’t want to. He disappeared into the house and I followed slowly, reaction setting in. Though no stranger to conflict, I never liked it. Even when I remained outwardly calm, the adrenaline left me shaky and sick to my stomach. Now that mixed with confusion.

  What had I done to deserve that? Maybe his fury wasn’t directed at me and I’d just been the unlucky person to show up at the wrong time, but the way he’d ordered me to go had felt personal.

  And it felt like shit.

  With my hands in my coat pockets to conceal their trembling, I stopped just inside the entrance and shut the door. The interior appeared more like what I’d expected from a lodge. A river rock fireplace dominated the great room. The narrow windows allowed only a little sunlight through, but soaring ceilings and knotty pine warmed and opened the space. At a small table in the foyer, Erik had ripped open the envelope and wa
s flipping through the pages, scribbling here and there. His feet were bare, I realized. He’d left wet footprints on the sandstone floor.

  He’d gone outside without shoes? So stunned by his anger, I hadn’t even noticed. Now I looked more closely. He’d walked into the snow with bare feet and a thin t-shirt…and his skin appeared flushed. Perspiration glistened on his forehead and dampened his thick hair.

  “Are you sick?”

  “Yeah.” He gave a hollow laugh. “A fever from hell.”

  “Shouldn’t you be in bed, then?”

  He stilled. His fingers gripped the edge of the table. Alarmed that he might topple over, I started toward him. He stopped me with a shake of his head. “Stay back.”

  All right. I watched him scrawl another signature, my hurt and confusion fading. The reason behind his behavior outside was obvious now—but it didn’t excuse him.

  “You should have just said you were sick instead of yelling at me.”

  “Right. Sorry.” Roughly, he stuffed the papers back into the envelope. “I’ll kill my father for sending you here.”

  Erik sounded as if he meant it. No question at whom his anger had been directed—his dad. Maybe I should have expected it.

  “He warned me that you might give me a hard time when I asked you to sign those.”

  “Not because of this agreement. I asked for it.”

  “Oh.” I gave the envelope a dubious look when he held it out. “Are you contagious?”

  He smiled without humor. “No.”

  Maybe not, but I still thought of the hand sanitizer in my bag. It would be rude to use it now, though. I’d wait until I returned to the Jeep. Until then, my gloves would do.

  I tucked the envelope away. God, he looked like hell. Flushed and sweating and his entire body tense, as if warding away a trembling case of the chills.

  I hesitated. “Do you need anything before I go?”

  “No.” He yanked open the door and stood with his fingers clamped on the edge. “Just get out of here. Now.”

  Some men were babies when they were sick. Apparently Erik was a jackass. I gave him a little salute. “All right. Have a good holiday, then.”

  He didn’t look down at me or answer. With jaw clenched, he stared out through the gatehouse and into the woods.

  Great. Don’t even say good-bye or wish me a Merry Christmas. Jerk.

  Erik flinched as I passed him, his big body stiffening and pulling away from me. Jesus. Like I was contagious. Chin high, I walked through the doorway and into the cold.

  The door slammed behind me. I glanced back and stopped in my tracks. Erik had followed me out, his eyebrows drawn and his mouth compressed into a hard line.

  His eyes still burned with fever. “I’ll walk you down.”

  “Don’t be an idiot. You’re sick. I can manage.”

  He apparently didn’t agree. When I emerged from the gatehouse and into the snow, he came after me.

  God. “Erik, you aren’t even wearing shoes.”

  That made him pause. He glanced at his bare feet. “Wait here.”

  This was stupid. And I was stupider for waiting. My patience thinned when he returned a minute later wearing a pair of insulated boots, but with the laces untied. Snow would get inside those on his first step. That wasn’t the worst of it, though.

  I gave him a tight smile. “And your coat?”

  He shook his head. “I’m too hot as it is.”

  Wasn’t that a big fat clue to stay home? I stared him down with my best ‘you’re being ridiculous’ expression, but his gaze held mine without flinching.

  He extended his hand. “Give me your bag to carry. It always looks so damn heavy.”

  “It is,” I said. “And no thanks. I might not have your giant muscles, but I can handle it.”

  “I know you can. But there’s no reason to—”

  “Since when isn’t ‘no’ enough, dammit?”

  He reacted as if I’d slapped him. His face stilled and the edges of his mouth whitened. His gaze turned glacial again. Withdrawing his hand, he dragged his fingers through his hair. “‘No’ is enough,” he said gruffly. “So let’s get you out of here.”

  We started off. The icy silence that I’d expected finally descended between us. If only my head would be as quiet.

  How could I drive away, knowing that he was out here sick? What if he passed out on the way back? I was going to end up walking to his house again to make sure he wasn’t lying in the snow somewhere, and then he’d insist on walking me back down to the road—like a silly high school game of “No, you hang up first” but with a feverish man and a quarter-mile driveway.

  Maybe this was why my mom thought that I’d be staying the night: I’d be caring for some sick, stubborn idiot who wouldn’t put on his coat.

  Why had I assumed her message meant Erik and I would sleep together? My brain had jumped straight to sex with him. Thankfully she could only see the future, not read minds. When I arrived at my parents’ house tonight, I could pretend that I’d known he was sick all along.

  I wouldn’t be staying here. But dammit, leaving him like this didn’t feel right—especially knowing that he was cut off from outside help if anything happened to him. Maybe I could call someone to check on him after I left. Of course, that wouldn’t do any good if they couldn’t drive up to the house.

  “Your dad said the phone lines were down. Is that why you didn’t call for a plow? Do you want me to try when I get back on the road?”

  “No.” He didn’t look at me. “I didn’t call for a plow because I don’t intend to leave and I didn’t want anyone to come.”

  Including me, obviously. But that didn’t make sense. “I thought you were expecting these papers? You said that you asked for them.”

  “I didn’t know they’d come today. And I didn’t expect you to bring them. He sure as hell stuck it to me there.”

  His father had? “What does that mean?”

  “He’s buying out my partnership.”

  “In the firm?” I had to stop myself from gaping.

  “Yes.” A bleak smile touched his lips. “Like I said, I asked for it.”

  And John Gulbrandr had sent me with the agreement that dissolved a business arrangement with his son? He hadn’t sent a lawyer or come himself? That wasn’t the sort of thing to hand over to just anyone.

  But maybe that had been Gulbrandr’s point. He’d sent the papers along with someone heading out on her vacation, as if buying out his son was just an afterthought.

  I hadn’t realized my boss could be such a petty dick. “So what do you plan to do now?”

  Erik only shook his head, his mouth set in a grim line. I studied his profile, unease building in my gut. Though no longer sweating or flushed, he looked worse than before. His skin drew tightly across his cheekbones and appeared so pale that the shadows beneath the trees gave him a bluish tinge. In a gesture that I believed meant he’d begun to feel the cold, he’d pushed his hands into his front pockets and hunched his shoulders, but now his posture struck me as the tension of a body in pain. Even as I watched, he hunched over a little more, his hands balling to fists in his jeans.

  I slowed, realizing that my mom could have been right. I might not be leaving here tonight. I was beginning to think that I shouldn’t leave—at least not until I knew he’d be okay.

  As I fell behind, he glanced back and faced me, waiting. His eyes burned with that feverish blue flame again, his irises so pale they appeared lit from within.

  “Listen,” I said. “I can get cell reception on the road. Let me call someone for you. At least have the road plowed so an ambulance can come if you need it. I’ll walk you back to the house and wait until it’s done.”

  “You’re going now.”

  His shoulders straightened as he started toward me. His voice was low and dangerous, suggesting that if I didn’t agree with him, he’d drag me to my Jeep himself.

  Just let him try. “Look, I wouldn’t feel right if I—”

&
nbsp; “Fuck feeling right.” He stopped within an arm’s length, and despite his blue-tinged lips and skin, I felt heat radiating from him. How could that be possible? It definitely couldn’t be healthy. “All that matters is that you get out of here.”

  I shook my head. “I know this won’t make any sense, but I think I’m supposed to stay here tonight. I think that something bad will happen if I don’t.”

  A tortured look passed over his features. He closed his eyes. “Something bad will happen if you do.”

  If that were true, my mother would have sent me running. She’d only told me to be careful.

  “What will happen?” When he didn’t answer, I pointed out the obvious. “You’re really sick, Erik. Why would you risk yourself like this just to get me out of here?”

  “I’d do anything to get you out of here.” He opened his eyes, his expression suddenly cold and remote. “Do you know why my father sent those papers with you? It’s because I told him that he had to make a choice: either I leave the firm—or you do.”

  My heart dropped. “What?”

  “I left to get away from you, Olivia.” Each word was succinct, like a shard of broken glass. “I can’t stand being around you. Now do you still want to stay here with me?”

  “No,” I whispered, and even that was an effort. My chest felt as if it had been ripped open. I wanted fury to come, to tell him how fucking cruel saying that had been, but the anger couldn’t get past the pain.

  An unreadable emotion darkened his gaze before he turned. His shoulders hunched again and he plowed through the snow at a quicker pace. In a hurry to get rid of me.

  Now I was in a hurry to go. Tucking my chin down, I started after him, stupid questions crowding my head.

  Why had he asked his dad to fire me—and why would he leave over it? Was my presence some kind of insult to him? Was my work not up to par? Had I been disruptive in the office? Was it because I’d asked him out—or because I’d kissed him back? Was I just that disgusting?

  No. Anger finally caught up to the hurt. I wasn’t any of those things. Whatever Erik’s problem with me was, it was his fucking problem. I hadn’t done a damn thing wrong.