Blindsided

BLINDSIDED

Sexual Studies 2

Kate Watterson

EROTIC ROMANCE

Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com

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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

IMPRINT: Erotic Romance

BLINDSIDED

Copyright © 2009 by Kate Watterson

E-book ISBN: 1-60601-162-6

First E-book Publication: March 2009

Cover design by Jinger Heaston

All cover art and logo copyright © 2009 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

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For Ashley and Chelsea. A doctor and a federal agent? No wonder you two couldn’t share a room growing up.

BLINDSIDED

Sexual Studies 2

KATE WATTERSON

Copyright © 2009

The first fat, fluffy white flakes that drifted downward looked so unthreatening. True, the radio had insisted dismally all afternoon that a big storm was intent on wandering into Canada via the upper Midwest, but they were so often wrong it seemed worth taking the chance to make a few more miles.

Every mile, every yard, every inch, and she felt just a little safer.

However, Kerin Burke had to admit that maybe taking this winding little county highway might have been a great mistake. Yes, it was infinitely more relaxing than battling freeway traffic, and the nail-biting antics of other drivers. Also much more private—and more unlikely a route. With the bristling pine forest around her she got the occasional glimpse of a snow-coated pristine northern lake so it was also much prettier—but still a mistake. She had actually started to relax a little and enjoy herself until the snow began in earnest, whipping sideways under a wind that came out of nowhere, swirling tall columns of white across the narrow road in bursts so thick that sometimes for long heart-stopping moments she couldn’t see a thing.

A mere two hours after the first lovely little white flake landed on her windshield, conditions rapidly moved from dangerous to appalling.

Blindsided 7

Slowing to a crawl at ten miles per hour helped a little. Crouched over the wheel, eyes straining, with one hand Kerin groped for her map. Muttering out loud, she said crossly, “What was the name of that damned town and how far can it be?”

The crinkle of paper told her she’d found what she wanted and she took a second to pull it up in front of her. Tomahawk, she saw before quickly lowering the map. With a big enough black dot to hopefully have a motel.

If
she could even get there. The road seemed to disappear right in front of her, only the solid image of the hovering trees defining where she needed to go. Already she hit drifts that frighteningly affected her control of the car and the wind echoed above the sound of the rock station she’d found, howling eerily through the treetops.

But disaster came from neither the elements, nor the ever darkening vastness of the forest.

The red light that flashed on the dash was her first inkling the car had died. It had stalled several times already since she’d left Indianapolis but always started again easily and she’d not even entertained the notion of stopping yet to have someone look at it.

Without power steering she slid gently to a rocking stop, helped by a three-foot drift. Snow pelted the windshield and her wipers seemed to just move it around, not actually clear it away. Her lights blazed in vague illumination behind that white wall, the skies having grown so dark it was hard to believe it was only late afternoon.

Kerin’s hands shook as she groped for the keys in the ignition.

The engine flared to life and then abruptly went silent.

This
, she thought frantically,
cannot be happening
. No one, especially someone who had experienced such an awful past few months, could have such bad luck. Car trouble on a remote road during a full-blown snowstorm? God must truly hate her.

If there was a God. She’d always thought so, but lately she was beginning to wonder.

She tried again. This time there was no answering spark, no
8

Kate Watterson

comforting noise. This time the key merely clicked silently.

“Damn.” Her oath was choked with dismay and a sort of numbing fear. She hadn’t passed a car in many miles and no one in their right mind would be out and about anyway. Maybe a snowplow would come along...but then again, the road crews would have their hands full just keeping the main highways clear in weather like this. Even in Indiana the secondary roads got fairly treacherous during winter storms.

Some of them became impassable.

She left the lights on, as it seemed the logical thing to do. Waiting an agonizing five minutes, she tried to start the car again. No luck.

Expensive piece of shit
, she thought cynically, fighting not to panic. Minutes passed by. She tried turning the key once more. That useless, useless key.

Already, alarmingly fast, she was beginning to get cold. Gazing blankly out the window she saw nothing but white lashing, retreating, dancing in waves against the glass. She waited, shivering, the full irony of the situation weighing as heavy as the deep, deep silence of the frozen woods surrounding her.

And waited. It was hard to just sit there but she had no idea what else to do.

She fled Indianapolis because she’d become convinced it might be the only way to save her life.

Now, she might very well die anyway.

At least this death would be peaceful, she reminded herself and leaned her head back against the seat, closing her eyes. Her coat was lightweight wool, the one she wore to the office, a dress coat unsuited for bitter temperatures. Even with her hands deep in the pockets, her fingers were cool and aching. Before long she would be able to see her breath, even inside the car.

Eventually she
could
see her breath as the conditions worsened.

Not a promising sign.

The knock came without warning, close, just inches from her left
Blindsided 9

ear, and she jumped violently. Eyes flying open, Kerin twisted and stared out her driver’s side window. A face, obscured by the flying snow, peered inside.

“Are you okay?” The shout was muffled by the wind.

A face. Another human being. Someone who had to have transportation to get there.

Rescue
. It registered only dimly. It took a second before she summoned up enough composure to fumble for the button on the side of the door. Her window lowered so slowly that she knew her battery must be going dead. A blast of cold air and snow hit her right in the face and she gasped. “I’m fine, but my car is stalled.”

The figure outside her window straightened. A tall man, she decided. She could hear the smooth idle of an engine even through the sighing wind. The words were nearly snatched away but she thought he said, “You’d better get out and come with me.”

Get into the car of a perfect stranger?

No way.

Kerin shook her head, and inhaled another blast of snow. There was a small pile already on the seat next to her just from the brief time her window had been open. She called out, “Thanks, but no. Can you do me a favor and call a tow truck? Maybe let them know I’m here?”

For a second he disappeared, swallowed by a column of white that seemed to envelope his tall figure. He shouted into the wind, “Lady, no one ... here ... for days. I bet ... close the roads ... snow emergency.”

“I ...”

The man bent suddenly and thrust his head inside the car through the open window. She flinched back but not before she got the impression of dark hair coated with white flakes, dark eyes, and a grim mouth. He said clearly, “I am willing to give you a ride but if we wait about one more minute, neither of us is going anywhere. Now, come on or forget it. It’s a free country and if you want to freeze to death, hey, I can’t really stop you.”

10

Kate Watterson

* * * *

Jesse McCutcheon eased the truck into gear and felt the tires spin uselessly for a few seconds before the four-wheel drive kicked in and they lurched forward into the blinding wall of snow.

It was most certainly the worst storm in at least three years, one of those deadly entities that swept in and started to dump snow so fast that you couldn’t get anywhere, do anything, and the whole notion of the power of nature came slamming into focus.

The woman sitting next to him shivered. He could hear her shallow breathing, and actually feel the tremors as she shook uncontrollably. He said, “If you want to turn up the heat, that’s fine with me. I’d do it for you but if I take my eyes off what used to be this road, I’m pretty sure we’ll end up somewhere in Otter Lake. It’s that top button. Push it over to the red.”

“Thanks.” It was a mutter.

Seconds later the fan went up with a gush of warm air that fanned his face. The snow clinging to his hair began to melt, running down his neck under the collar of his coat. There wasn’t much doubt that the young woman sitting next to him had been apprehensive about getting into the car with him, and since he wasn’t used to being considered a possible ax murderer or serial rapist, he wasn’t just sure what to say. He settled for a conversational question. “How long had you been there?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe an hour or more.” Her voice was soft, the accent subtle and almost southern.