Blindsided (4 page)

Cultured. Considerate. Good-looking. The list grew. Add prosperous. The wine was expensive, no doubt about it. And the cabin was a careful blend of modern convenience and rural charm that spoke of a sizeable investment. Taking another appreciative sip, she murmured, “It’s lovely.”

“I hope so. Otherwise I’ll be stuck with a case of it to pour down the sink. Actually, now that I think of it, that’s a good start to our forced acquaintance, Ms. Smith. We already have something in common. We both like this wine.”

“True enough.” She couldn’t help it, a little laugh welled inside her. How long had it been since she laughed? That was a frightening thought. She said quickly, “Let’s not forget we both have a low, almost fatalistic opinion of the accuracy of weather forecasters.”

His back against the opposite counter, McCutcheon swirled the liquid in his glass very slowly. “That makes two things. A good start.

What else might there be? Do you like opera?”

Kerin shook her head. “I’m afraid not.”

“Three.” He grinned and took a sip of his wine. “Sports?”

Blindsided 27

“Well, I do follow the Colts during football season.”

“Ah, so I take it you’re from Indiana. What do you do back in Indiana, Ms. Smith?”

“Kerin,” she said automatically, thinking fast. She’d already lied about her last name, and she hardly wanted to give him personal information. Unfortunately, fabrications had never been her strong suit.

He said pleasantly, “All right. What do you do for living, Kerin?”

Her gaze dropped uncomfortably. The shirt that had replaced his wet one was flannel also, this one a dark red. It was unbuttoned enough that she could see a V of tanned chest, undoubtedly nicely muscled if the width of his shoulders was any indication. She jerked her gaze back up to his face. “I work in a doctor’s office.”

“I see.” His brows went up a fraction. “That explains a few things.

What kind of medicine do you practice?”

Her fingers tightened involuntarily on the delicate stem of her glass. “I never said I was a physician.”

His dark eyes were steady on hers. Intelligent, insightful, and questioning. He said mildly, “No, you didn’t. Quite the opposite. But your car is kind of a giveaway. In my experience the only person who works in a doctor’s office and drives a Mercedes is the doctor.

Besides, despite the fact this situation makes you pretty nervous, you still carry yourself like someone who is used to being an authority figure.”

Okay. Add smart to the list now
. Kerin admitted haltingly, “I’m an internist who works with a group of doctors.” That was vague enough.

“And that’s a secret?”

Now he was crossing from uncomfortable to downright

inquisitive. “I don’t know you.” The words came out more forcefully than she intended.

He seemed to pause, the glass of wine halfway to his mouth. After a second, he took a little sip. “Please remember, I don’t know you either.”

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The worst thing was he was achingly, agonizingly correct. He
didn’t
know her. Yet he’d stopped and picked her up, welcoming her into his home. Instantly ashamed of herself, Kerin said, “I know you don’t. I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted, Doctor.” He set aside his glass and moved down the length of the kitchen. He disappeared into the hallway where they’d come in and she heard the closet door open. When he came out, he was wearing a thick dark coat and pulling on a pair of gloves. “You might want to listen for the weather report on the radio.

If they predict anything but gloom and doom, let me know.”

“You’re going out there?” Kerin couldn’t conceal her disbelief.

Perched on her stool, she stared at him. “Why?”

“Just for wood. I want to build a fire. I’m a little uneasy about how long the power might be out and how much fuel I have for the generator. I’d say once we go to bed, we should probably turn it off at least for a few hours.”

Once we go to bed...

He seemed to realize just how the casually spoken phrase sounded because for the first time the tables were turned and he didn’t look quite so confident and self-possessed. Instead he said abruptly, “I’ll be back in a few minutes. Help yourself to more wine.”

She could hear for a brief moment the roar of the storm and feel an eddy of icy cold rush into the room before the door closed behind him.

* * * *

The big dead hemlock he’d planned on taking down in the spring had fallen across the path to the woodshed. It had not gone down gracefully, and the huge trunk had shattered and bits lay everywhere, already being swallowed by the drifting powder. Collar up against the wind, Jesse tried to blink the blowing snow out of his eyes and clamber around the mess as best he could.

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Smooth
, he told himself wryly as he slid across a log at least thirty inches in diameter. That last little moment inside had been quite smooth. Of course, he hadn’t meant anything even remotely suggestive when he’d mentioned them going to bed. He had every intention of sleeping on the couch and keeping the fire going so they wouldn’t freeze to death overnight with the generator off.

But damn if the lovely doctor’s eyes hadn’t widened in a betraying fashion, letting him know just exactly where her mind had shot when he’d said the words. He’d been unaccountably embarrassed for something not at all his fault and the feeling was irritating. He was a grown man and certainly had held his share of conversations ripe with sexual innuendo. That was not what had happened.

Perhaps what threw him was the fact that he’d never before been around a woman so patently uncomfortable in his company. He simply couldn’t shake the feeling that Kerin Smith,
Dr
. Kerin Smith, was frightened and somehow vulnerable.

The question of the hour, he mused as he began to pull logs from the top of the neatly stacked row under the shed roof, was why? Some concern in an unusual situation was understandable, but for a very attractive and self-possessed young woman, she seemed a bit too much on edge.

It took him a good thirty minutes to carry what he thought enough wood to the back door. By then his fingers were numb in spite of his gloves, and his hair and clothes coated again with snow. The temperature was dropping still and his cheeks stung as he opened the door and stepped back inside. Shedding his coat and gloves, he shook the moisture from his hair.

She had moved from the stool to the leather couch by the fireplace and quietly sat there, the soft lamplight touching the smooth sheen of her honey-colored hair. He’d brought two logs in, and without comment, he carried them to the large hearth and deposited them both into the grate. The basket of dry kindling he kept on hand proved useful, and the welcoming spark of fire helped a little as he held out
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his frozen fingers to the flame.

“Here.” The soft voice right behind his shoulder almost startled him. Still crouched by the hearth, he glanced up to see that Kerin held out a towel.

Her smile was sweet, a little apologetic, and to his surprise, seemed genuine. She said, “I know how you feel about snow all over your floor so I thought I’d better get you this.”

“Thanks.” Accepting the olive branch, he stood and dried his hair and face, then used the damp cloth to wipe the snow from his jeans and mop up what had dripped and melted on the floor. During this time, he was aware Kerin returned to her seat on the leather couch, sitting gracefully with her legs folded underneath, one slim hand holding her half-empty glass of wine.

The fire licked up and the wood began to hiss and crackle.

Satisfied it was going to start, Jesse went back to the kitchen, tossed the soiled towel into the small laundry room next to the built-in pantry, and then retrieved his own wine. Eyeing the level in the bottle he’d left sitting on the counter, he guessed that perhaps it was being on her second glass that had made his reluctant guest relax a little bit.

If so, he’d be willing to pour as much expensive booze down her lovely throat as it took for her to not look right through him with those blue eyes. He took the bottle with him back into the living room and sat down on the hearth, making a pretense of needing to poke at the growing flames.

To his surprise, it was Kerin who spoke first. “I’ve been sitting here wondering what kind of occupation would allow someone to live in such a remote place.”

As an offer to exchange personal information, it was a little ambiguous. Jesse replied in the spirit it was offered. “Who says I live here?”

The soft lamplight he favored cast a golden glow over her perfect skin and the pale oval of her face. After a moment, she said, “It’s a little upscale for just a vacation home.”

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“Thank you.”

She flinched at the short reply, her gaze dropping to her wine glass. “Look, Mr. McCutcheon ... I mean Jesse, I realize I offended you earlier—”

“Not offended exactly,” he interrupted. “I’m more puzzled than anything. But hey, if you don’t want to talk about yourself, that’s all right.”

“It isn’t…” She stopped and bit her lip, her teeth sinking into the soft flesh. In his oversized shirt, she looked very young, like a pretty child. The wine glass in her hand trembled. When she continued, it was with an aching dignity. “Please understand I have a very good reason, something that has nothing to do with you, for not bubbling over with details.”

Bubbling over with details. Since he was pretty sure she’d even lied about her name, that statement was almost ludicrous. However, the pain shadowing her eyes was not. It was real, and it was uncomfortable. Taking a quick drink from his glass, he swallowed and said in a cool tone, “I guess I don’t have the same problem.

Anyway, I don’t mind telling you I live in Chicago and own a construction company. This place is my oasis of sanity in a pretty busy life.” He smiled with as much detachment as possible. “Oh yes, I’m not married, just in case you were wondering.”

He was definitely wondering about
her.

“Divorced?”

He still thought she had a lot of gall to ask any questions at all, but answered readily, “Nope. Never met the right girl, I guess, if that is cliché enough for you.”

“I’m not married either.” Her lashes were long, and as she stared downward at the glass in her hand, they left dark shadows on her cheekbones. “Never had the time.”

But she had time to run off to northern Wisconsin and lose herself in a storm. Reaching for the wine bottle and pouring himself another glass, he ventured, “As a physician, I am sure you are very busy. You
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can’t be long out of medical school. More wine?”

“Uhm ...” Looking down doubtfully at her glass, she nodded.

“Yes, I guess so.”

It was fully dark outside now, giving the onslaught of the storm a distant feel. Jesse got to his feet and refilled her glass. “It’s almost dinnertime. Are you hungry?”

She gazed up at him uncertainly. “Maybe a little.”

He laughed. “Well, then I feel compelled to tell you something else about myself. Very personal, and very relevant.”

“What?”

“I am one hell of a terrible cook, so brace yourself.”

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Kerin sliced onions with a deft hand, transferring them to the frying pan via a cutting board. The rising sweet scent mingled with garlic and browning meat, filling the kitchen with delicious aromas.

She picked up an opener and went to work on a can of tomato sauce.

All the while, the man across the counter watched her with steady dark eyes, sitting as she had earlier on one of the stools, one long-fingered hand toying idly with his glass. The radio played softly, repeatedly interrupting a violin concerto or flute solo to announce the long lists of counties under the snow emergency and give ever rising figures on the amount of accumulation and increasing wind gusts.

“Right now,” Jesse McCutcheon observed dryly, his elbows comfortably on the counter, “I’d be burning something. I admit back in Chicago I rarely even attempt to cook but either eat out, or pick up something on the way home.”

“I love to cook,” Kerin admitted truthfully, stirring the sauce into the mixture. “I find it relaxing. I don’t have time to do much else that is creative.”

“I know what you mean. Though, between big jobs, I come here to relax and fish. That’s why I bought this place. In the summer, I can usually manage almost a month here.”

“A whole month? That sounds marvelous.” She glanced behind him to where the fire burned brightly in the lovely fireplace, the reddish light giving the gleaming wood floor and comfortable furniture a warm glow. “This is a lovely retreat. Time to myself is also a luxury I don’t have.”

She was intruding on
his
time that was for certain.

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“Take it from me, you have to make it for yourself,” he told her with an ironic lift of one dark brow. “I could work twenty-four hours a day if I wanted to, but I refuse to burn out before I’m forty.”

“That’s probably good advice.” Kerin reached for her third glass of wine, knowing it was a little dangerous to mix stress, fatigue, and alcohol, but not concerned enough to keep from taking another sip. In retrospect, now that she had relaxed a little, she realized that she couldn’t be safer than where she was right at this moment. The roads were impassable. Her cell phone and beeper didn’t work. She was entirely isolated from the world except for the very intriguing, attractive Mr. McCutcheon.

He smiled, showing the gleam of his white, even teeth. “If you notice, I don’t even have a television, Dr. Smith. If you want to unwind, the place to do it is a North woods cabin where there is nothing to do but eat, sleep, fish a little, and enjoy the quiet.”

Kerin smiled back. “A man without a television? You must be a new species. And I’ll keep the advice in mind if you will please call me Kerin.”

For someone who didn’t cook much, he had a nicely outfitted kitchen. Rummaging around to find a pan for the pasta, she found the cupboards as neat and tidy as the rest of the place, which gave her another bit of insight into his personality. He liked order, she decided, lifting out a suitable pot. Control was something she understood pretty well, since she was a bit of a freak about it herself. Maybe that’s why her current situation had her so rattled.