Chance Encounter (13 page)

He clung to it in slow motion as well, watching the Jeep slide down, watching the rain fall, watching dirt and debris hit him, hurt him, until finally, tired, he closed his eyes.

H
E’S OKAY
,
HE’S OKAY
,
he’s okay.

This was Ally’s mantra as she crawled to the edge of the embankment where Chance and the Jeep had vanished. When she saw the top of his wet, blond head she nearly collapsed in relief.

He was fifteen feet down, hanging on, his arms straining over his head, to a branch that didn’t look sturdy enough to hold him. Ten feet below him, on a ledge, sat the Jeep, looking as if it’d been purposely parked there. “Chance!”

“I’m okay,” he said, but he didn’t move.

Don’t panic, don’t panic, don’t panic.
This became her new mantra as she evaluated the situation.

One, she was in the driving rain, far too close to the edge of a cliff that could give away any second now. Two, she was the only one in the world in any immediate position to help Chance. And three, the pathetic, mousy city girl masquerading as Ms. Carefree had better get it together quickly, because she just realized every bit of strength she’d found over the past month had deserted her. “Hang on!” she called down. She whipped around to squint at the car that had hit the Jeep. The man who’d been driving was running toward her. “Do you have a cell phone?” she yelled.

He nodded and made an abrupt about-face, going back for the phone.

Ally was just peering over the cliff again when another car came ripping up the road, peeling to a stop behind the first car.

Brian and Jo came running.

Ally had never been so happy to see anyone in her life. “Get rope,” she told Jo. “Get the guy’s cell phone and call 911,” she yelled to Brian, and they both ran to help.

A sudden calm determination come over Ally then. Without hesitation, she carefully and slowly went over the side of the cliff. “Chance!” she called, moving down an inch at a time, searching for foot and hand-holds.

He shook his head as if clearing it, and looked up. There was a cut on his forehead, and mud over most of him. When he saw her coming down after him, he lost whatever color he had left. “Ally, no.”

Ten more feet. Nine. She wasn’t going to stop now. From above, both Jo and Brian reappeared.

“My God!” Jo cried. “Ally, stop— Wait!”

She couldn’t now, she was committed. And halfway there. Brian came over the edge as well, and started his way down to help her.

Again Chance shook his head, looking a little green around the edges. But he was alert, and he reached up to start the climb.

Ally kept moving toward him, heart in her throat. Hand over hand she went, reaching out carefully, trying not to think too hard about what she was doing,
because if she did, she’d lose it. She grabbed at a rock, but it came loose, setting off a slide of rocks and debris. With a gasp, she flattened herself against the side of the mountain, cringing as both she and Chance, who had nearly met her now, took several hits.

“Watch out,” Jo yelled from above. “Watch out for—”

“I’m okay!” Terrified, but okay. The strenuous climb was taking every bit of concentration she had, so she jerked in surprise when suddenly Chance was at her side. She wanted to cry, wanted to grab him, wanted to shake him and make sure he never ever did anything heroic ever ever again, but he was looking at her with that same look right back and she couldn’t speak.

“You don’t have a rope on,” he said hoarsely, maneuvering sideways so he could curve an arm around her. “Ally, my God, if you let go—”

She both laughed and cried, but didn’t dare let go to touch him. “Believe me, I’m not letting go. Now tell me the same.”

His eyes were so dark, so intense. “I won’t fall.”

“Promise.” It was inane, but she needed to hear him, needed him to keep looking at her like that, always.
“Promise me,”
she repeated tightly.

“Promise.” He nudged her back up, refusing to go ahead, staying right behind her, one tensed arm on either side of her legs. Unable to help herself, she kept craning her neck to look back at him. His hands were cut, his every muscle straining with effort but whenever she looked at him he managed a grim smile and
urged her along. “I’m okay,” he kept saying, but she couldn’t believe it. They came upon Brian, who looked Chance over as if he were on Search and Rescue duty before silently and efficiently starting the climb back up as well.

Then they were at the edge, climbing up and over, only to fall to the ground in exhaustion.

Chance went to his knees, weaving once before opening his arms, which Ally dove into without thought, clasping herself to his big, warm, filthy chest. Jo locked her arms around the both of them, and they all dragged Brian into the fray, squeezing hard.

“Okay, so maybe you’re ready for rock climbing,” Chance quipped, but the smile didn’t meet his eyes, which were strained and shadowed.

“That might have been more adventure than I ever planned on,” Ally admitted.

“That was too much for anyone.” He held her so tight she could barely draw air into her lungs, but breathing came in a distant second to being cradled against him.

He was bigger than life. He was brave and untamed. He was uninhibited and earthy, and his love for the outdoors was contagious.

But she was also madly in love with him and he didn’t love her back. He never would. She had to remember that.

“I vote that this was enough training for all of next year,” Jo said, trying to laugh, but her eyes filled. She couldn’t stop hugging everyone, and Ally knew the feeling.

She didn’t want to take her hands off Chance ever again.

Brian, clearly uncomfortable with all the emotion, turned away, but before he could walk, Chance stopped him. “In an emergency, I want to be with you, Slick. You’re one tough, sharp thinker. Consider yourself promoted to staff status.”

“You said I wasn’t old enough.”

“Not for ski patrol, but we’ll find something. You’re official, and as of right now, you’re on the payroll. Next time you risk your neck for me, you’re damn well going to get paid for it.”

Forgetting he didn’t like to be touched, forgetting he didn’t trust adults and that he was openly crying, Brian hugged Chance, a full-bodied, back-slapping hug between two men who weren’t afraid to show how they felt.

“Dammit, stop it,” Jo said, swiping her eyes and nose on her sleeve.

Ally found herself back in Chance’s arms, back in the place she felt the most alive. And the look in his eyes, the heated intensity, the passion, the longed-for affection…everything she could ever want was there.

Yet it wasn’t real.

“Ally—”

“I hear sirens,” she said, taking a step back out of his warm embrace, afraid to let him finish. She knew what she
wanted
him to say, but not like this. Not in the heat of the moment, surrounded by chaos. Not when it couldn’t last.

The paramedic and rescue unit arrived, as well as
the sheriff, who cited the other driver for reckless driving. Chance was momentarily distracted by the paramedics wanting to treat a few nasty scratches. Then the rescue unit needed a report. Arrangements were made for the Jeep to be hauled back up, and finally,
finally,
the road was cleared and they were free to go.

“Ally.” Chance stopped her as she would have gotten into Jo’s car, and cupped her cheek in his hand. “You’re really okay?”

“Fine.” She sank into the car and tried not to give in to the tears she’d been fighting for an hour now.

He followed her in, clearly wondering what was wrong, but she avoided his direct gaze. She had to, or she’d lose it. For so long she’d wanted to see that look in his eyes, had hoped and dreamed for it. Now, in this situation, an emergency, with adrenaline flowing, and thrills aplenty, she had it.

And it wouldn’t—couldn’t—last.

Soon enough, he’d go back to looking at her as if she was a problem he didn’t know what to do with. A problem he wanted to go away. He sat right next to her in Jo’s little car, pressing his big body close to hers. She could feel the heat and strength of him, could feel his gaze like a caress.

“It was you,” he murmured. “You saved me.”

“No.” God, not his gratitude on top of everything else. That would make it all the harder to bear. “You would have made it without me.” Above all else, he was a survivor.

He stroked her jaw, then turned her to face him, his
eyes both fierce and tender. “
You
got 911 called,
you
said my name over and over, you kept me alert so I didn’t let go.
You
were the one, Ally.” He reached for her hands, bringing them up to his mouth, gently kissing the scrapes on her knuckles. Then he hauled her close, until she was tucked up against him, holding her as if she were his entire world.

He was trembling, and she stroked her hands up and down his back. “It’s okay,” she murmured. “You’re fine now.”

A rough laugh escaped him, and he squeezed her tighter. “Do you think I care about me? It’s you, Ally. It’s always been you.”

“I’m fine,” she whispered.

“I’m glad
you’re
fine,” he told her. “But I’m a wreck, so hold me, Ms. Fine, and don’t let go.”

Temporary,
she reminded herself ruthlessly. He would only feel this way temporarily.

But at the moment, locked against his hard, warm body, she allowed herself to pretend it could last forever.

J
O DROVE TO
A
LLY’S
cabin first, which was a huge relief to Ally, who needed to be alone to regroup. To think. And maybe to wallow, just for a moment.

But Chance got out with her.

“What are you doing?” She sounded panicked, but she needed to be by herself. If he so much as touched her again, if he looked at her with
that
look, the one that told her things he didn’t mean for her to know,
she’d melt. She’d beg him to hold her again and never let go, to make it real.

He’d get the holding part right, oh he most definitely would. And she’d be lost.

“You should go to your cabin and clean up,” she insisted, practically shoving him back into Jo’s car.

“I want to clean up, but—” He bent to say something to Jo and Brian, something she couldn’t hear.

Jo glanced up at Ally, then nodded. Revving the engine, she drove away.

And left him standing there next to her.

The rain continued to come down, but they were already drenched. Chance was staring at her while she stared at the ground. She could feel his gaze caressing her hair, her face. Then she felt his hand skim her back, so softly it nearly made her cry.

“Remember what you wanted to do before that branch blocked our path?” he asked.

She’d wanted to talk. And she’d nearly goaded him into it, just as she’d goaded him into everything they’d ever done together. Pathetic.

“Do you remember?” he asked again, sounding unusually solemn.

“We were going to the store.”

He let out a sound of frustration. “You wanted to talk.”

“That was then.” Now all she wanted was a pity party, and she was damn entitled. When she was done feeling sorry for herself, she planned to dry herself off and get on with her life. Her heart was broken, but she’d survive.

She always did.

“I think talking is a good idea.”

He didn’t look as if he thought so. He looked as if he’d offered to face the guillotine. “Your timing is off,” she informed him as if she were bored, but he simply slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her into the curve of his body, sheltering her from the rain.

“What are you afraid of?” he asked, mocking her own earlier words.

You.
“I just don’t feel like talking, Chance.”

“Well I do,” he said simply, and propelled her inside, out of the rain.

F
RESH FROM HER SHOWER
,
Ally paced the kitchen, ignoring the hot chocolate Chance had made her. From the bathroom she could hear the shower running. Then it abruptly turned off.

Chance was in there. Standing in her shower, water streaming down his leanly muscled body. A body that was tough. Hot to the touch. Gorgeous.

And naked.

His hair would be in spikes around his head. He’d probably just shove his fingers through it, as he seemed to do most of the time. His eyes would be tired, his voice deep and husky from the exhaustion of the day. He needed sleep, and she thought maybe he intended to do that here.

If only he knew how she’d fallen so stupidly in love with him, he’d be running for the hills.

As she’d told him, she’d changed.

Actually, both of them had. Where he’d once been unwilling to let anyone into his fiercely guarded, loner heart, he’d opened up and let Brian in. He’d opened up for her as well, as much as he could. That it wasn’t enough for her wasn’t his fault.

Which meant it was time for
her
to be running for the hills. Or at least for San Francisco.

He’d built a fire, probably to comfort and warm her, but each time it crackled and sizzled she jumped. She left the small kitchen for the living room, hoping the warmth would penetrate her chill.

Chance stood in the doorway, his face dark and pensive. He hadn’t bothered to dry his hair and he smelled like her shampoo. When he saw her, he smiled but she noted the tightness of his shoulders and the grimness in his gaze. He was worried, which startled her. She’d seen him in good humor, and in bad. She’d seen him in the throes of passion, and in a foul temper. She’d seen him sad, and also afraid. But never worried.

“I needed you today,” he said. “I needed you…and you were there.”

She knew all too well this was a problem for him. He made it a point to never need anyone.

“It meant risking your life, and you didn’t even hesitate.” He shook his head. “I can’t stop thinking about that, or about how I felt when I thought that car was going to hit you, right in front of me.”

“But it didn’t hit me. You made sure of that.”

“From the very beginning, when you first came here, I had this ridiculous need to keep you safe.” He laughed mirthlessly. “I didn’t understand it. And I fought it every step of the way because it drove me crazy watching you do all the things I do every day, all the dangerous things I do and just take for granted because I’ve done them before. But when
you
did them…God. When
you
went biking, kayaking,
anything,
I had to hold my tongue and…just let you.”

“I don’t remember you holding your tongue very much,” she said wryly.

“My point is that it was pure hell to watch you go at this life with such gusto. It was hell, but I did it, and today—” He drew a deep, ragged breath. “Today it almost cost you your life.”

“My life is mine to run,” she said softly. “Not yours.”

“I know. I’m trying to back off. I know you wanted to be alone now. I know you wanted to pull away from me, and maybe I should have let you.” Turning his back to her, he walked to the fireplace and stared pensively into the fire. “But I couldn’t.”

His shoulders looked as if they were holding the weight of his entire world. Ally had never been able to watch someone in pain and not try to ease it, and there was no way she could hold back here, with him. She crossed the room and slipped her arms around him from behind, laying her cheek against the sleek muscles of his back. Her hands found their way beneath his T-shirt, sliding over the hard sinew and warm skin of his stomach.

At first he didn’t move, just stood rock-still so that the only sound was the roaring fire and his own harsh breathing.

Her fingers danced over him, up and down and back again. Then she whispered his name.

It unleashed him, and with a jagged sigh, he turned in her arms, locked his around her, buried his face in her hair, letting out a heartfelt groan. “Ally, I want you. Say you want me, too.”

“You know I do.”

“Say it.”

“I want you, Chance.”

His mouth found her neck and nuzzled there, at the sensitive spot beneath her ear, and the embrace changed, shifted into something far more complicated than comfort.

“I want to feel you,” he murmured, his hands streaked over her body, cupping, stroking, holding. “I have to feel you.”

Again, that thrill, that squeeze on her heart, because he
did
need her. Maybe not on the mountain, but now, right now, and that this big, tough, strong man could be rendered helpless by that need made her want to burst. “Touch me, Chance.”

He took her down to her knees on the rug before the fire, removing pieces of clothing as they went. Lying back, he pulled her over him so that she straddled his hips, and it was incredible how he looked up at her, as if she was the most beautiful, most sexy, most amazing woman on earth.

And for that moment, she was. “Touch me,” she whispered again.

He reached between them to do just that, his fingers driving her with a deliberate sureness that told her he already knew her body better than she did. “Like this?” he asked, his fingers slipping into her with exquisite care. He brought her to the edge with one stroke. She grabbed his arms so tightly she probably bruised him, but she didn’t want him to stop. Not ever.

“Ally?”

“Yes! Yes, like that!” She dipped down and ran the tip of her tongue across his bottom lip. His breath caught, and beneath her, she felt him, hard and heavy, pushing against her soft flesh, felt the thrust of his hips against hers. Fisting him in her hands, she stroked him slowly from base to tip, thrilling to the way his body writhed.

When he couldn’t take it any longer, he pushed her hand away. Splaying his fingers over her bare back, he urged her forward, drawing her close so that he could open his lips on one of her breasts. His tongue flicked over her nipples, laving each of them with equal care before drawing one between his lips to suck hard. The pressure continued to build within her and her body tightened. “Now, Chance. Please, now.”

Eyes fierce, mouth taut in a line of hunger and need, he guided her over him, sinking into her slowly, so slowly she thought she would die from the wanting. They were naked body pressed to naked body, sweat-slicked skin to sweat-slicked skin, and she couldn’t get enough of him, of touching, of tasting him. She couldn’t talk, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything for fear of blinking and having it all be gone. It couldn’t be so real, so right…could it? Afraid to let herself hope and dream, she had to close her eyes, had to hide, but he placed his hands on the sides of her face and made her look at him.

“No hiding now.” His eyes were alive with passion, his mouth wet from hers, his breathing labored as if he’d run a race. “No more hiding for either of us.”

No more hiding.
Good thing, because the love she was holding back was currently threatening to choke her. “Chance—”

“Yes. Now. Watch.” And he rolled her to her back, surging up so that she could see him enter her with each flex of his hips, could watch her own hips rock up to meet his. It was the most erotic thing she’d ever seen and she struggled to keep her eyes open, to bite off the dark sounds of unbelievable pleasure as she strained against him.

“It’s never been like this,” she told him.
“Never.”

He stilled for a moment, then plunged deeper, harder, again and again until she started to shudder. Her climax ripped through her, ripping her heart and soul as well. “I love you,” she whispered and he shuddered, too, letting out a low, wrenching groan as his own orgasm gripped him. She wondered if he’d heard her words, but the mixture of passion and torment on his face said that he had. Threading his fingers through her hair, he gathered her close for a kiss that claimed her mouth as surely as he’d claimed her heart.

And when they could breathe, he took her again, as if he could somehow drive the need out of him. And then again, deep into the night. Finally, he fell into an exhausted slumber, and for a long, long time Ally watched him sleep, thinking she would give anything to be entwined with him like this forever, held against his chest, close to his heart.

But as soon as he woke up, this special interlude would be over. Oh, she’d let him touch her again, because she couldn’t resist. He was a masterful lover.

But she knew now without a doubt what she wanted in life, and it had to be more than lust. As the light of dawn drifted through the slats on her wooden blinds, she touched him one last time, her fingers skimming over his rough jaw, her eyes soaking up every inch of him. “You’re so beautiful,” she whispered. “Inside and out.”

He didn’t budge, lost in his exhausted slumber.

“I’ll never forget you,” she said softly. “Never.”

And she slipped out of bed.

W
HEN CHANCE WOKE AN
hour later, he found himself reaching for Ally. It shocked him, how natural it felt to do so. How natural it felt to look into her big gray eyes and want her to smile at him. He thought about what it would be like to roll over every single morning for the rest of his life and reach for her, and had to admit, he liked the thought.

Where was his usual restlessness after a night like the one they’d shared? Where was his urge to get out of bed and run like hell?

Gone. Vanished, like the rest of his reserve when it came to Ally. He’d never felt this way for another woman. He actually wanted more. He wanted all those things he’d never given much thought to before. Commitment. A home. Children.
Forever.

But Ally hadn’t asked him for any of those things. To the contrary, she’d always planned on leaving. And for the first time in his life he found himself in the awkward position of wanting more from a woman than she wanted from him. Yes, he was completely
over the top in love with her, and she loved him back. He might not deserve that love, but she’d offered it and he wanted it more than his next breath.

But she was still leaving.

He lay still for a moment, absorbing that, and the fact she wasn’t in the bed with him. She’d come back any second, he told himself, maybe even with that sexy yet shy smile, the one that made him want to tumble her down again and have his way with her.

Which he’d done many satisfying times during the night.

A grin broke free at that, and he stretched languidly, lasciviously, thinking no matter what time it was, they could spare a few extra moments to make love again. Then he’d tell her how he felt about her. It was time to let go of his fear of commitment, time to give in and realize Ally would never hold him back, she’d only enhance everything about his life.

It took him awhile, but he eventually realized the cabin was far too still. He slid his hand over the pillow they’d shared, when she hadn’t been sleeping sprawled across the top of him. He’d learned many things about the incredible, warm, passionate Ally in their time together, and one of them was that she was a complete and utter bed hog.

He liked that about her.

But her side of the pillow, though seeped in her light, sexy scent, was ice-cold.

With a jerk of his heart, he shoved up to a sitting position, his gaze searching the room. The closet was open and he pushed the covers aside and hopped out
of bed to go look. He tore past the leggings, the new fleece sweats, the wet suit…everything she’d purchased here at the resort. He was looking for the clothes she’d brought with her from San Francisco, the clothes she’d never once worn here, but they were gone.

And so was she.

He threw on his clothes and ran down the path to the lodge. She’d be there, he told himself.

But she wasn’t. He searched everywhere, and the longer he searched, the more desperate he became because he knew the ugly truth. He’d made her unhappy. God, what he’d give to fix that. He wanted to see her smile at him with that love in her eyes, the love he’d been afraid of. He wanted to live with her and watch them both turn gray. He wanted every damn thing. But it was too late.

He was too damn late.

All Jo knew was that she’d indeed left. When Chance called Lucy, she was annoyingly vague, too, telling him she was being released in a few days, that she’d come by the resort to see everyone and that they could talk then.

He couldn’t wait that long. His heart felt like someone had taken a two-by-four to it. How could he have waited so long to face the truth about loving Ally? He’d been so busy being the big, bad, tough T. J. Chance, only his sweet, determined Ally had really been the brave, tough one all along. She’d gone against the grain just to come here. To stay here. She’d
risked her self-esteem and confidence to face this world she’d known nothing about.

Over and over again, she’d put herself out on the line. Learning. Experiencing.
Risking.
And she’d risked the one thing he never had—his heart.