Stranded but not Alone (Midnight Moanings Collection) (5 page)

“Unless they’re blue or purple—yes,” she said, setting a towel from her shoulders on the ledge beside the tub. She stood and they shared a look. They both were fighting an attraction to the other. He wanted to pull her into the water with him, taste her mouth as well as her lips below the hips.

“Hmm… if that’s natural, I like it.”

“Clear lip balm. I only wear makeup when I go out to things like dinner or dancing. Being pretty isn’t my concern while I’m hiking through the mountains with strangers.”

He watched as more color leeched through her light copper skin. A small dimple creased in her cheek. “The heat feels good,” he told her. “Have any shampoo I can use?”

“I have a travel size in my Ziploc—not one word from you,” she said, pointing at him. “I left your soup on the table. I’ll be right back.”

Of course she had some in her magical Ziploc bag. He laughed just thinking how practical she was… and how attractive it was to him.

“Here, it’s hot,” she warned him, coming back into the bathroom with a steaming fat mug of soup. “It cooled a little so I took some from the pot. And I grabbed the gift I was planning to give to my brother that I had in my duffle. I know the sweater will fit but not sure about the pants. I don’t think your clothes will be dry anytime soon.”

“How big are these Ziploc bags?”

“Freezer size. Here take this.” He accepted the hot cup of soup. “My mother taught us how to take a straw and suck the air out of the bag, flattening it to conserve space. I rolled the air out for these.”

“You’re joking?” he asked, the cup up to his mouth.

“I was an outdoor girl from the age of two or three. Eat that, then I’ll wash your hair. You don’t mind, do you?”

“Are you a caregiver by profession?” he asked around a mouthful of soup.

“No. I’m a food editor and photographer. I do magazine layouts, commercials, restaurants ads,” she said, massaging his tight shoulders. “Sink down some. This will feel better under water. I’ll shampoo your hair once you’re done eating.”

Her breast bumped along his shoulders as she worked the tendons along his neck and shoulders into mush. Tips of her fingers grazed over his chest down over his nipples. Stroking up and down the center of his torso. The heartbeat in her neck pulsed alongside his face. She grabbed the little towel and began scrubbing his chest and arms up his neck squeezing water down his hair as he finished the cup of soup.

 Hell! He stopped trying to hide what she was doing to him. He was a naked man in a tub with a beautiful woman washing his hair. Any man would be horny. He stretched his legs out in the long tub and his erection swayed just below the high water.

 “And you?” she asked. Her nonchalant tone tossed a little cold water on his male ego. She wasn’t affected by him.

“Structural Engineer,” he said, the mug dangling from his other hand over the tub’s edge.

“So you’re on vacation?”

“No,” he said, handing her the empty cup. “Thank you. I’m here looking for my brother and his parents.” She went stiff at his back. Finally, a reaction from her.

~~~

Simone stood before the potbelly stove. She was stranded in the woods of Austria with a handsome stranger. A stranger with a body she could barely shake from her mind. And know he’s looking for a brother with different parents. Why would a mother give one child away and keep one? That’s just cruel. Taking her laptop to the little table, she stood scrolling through the pictures she’d taken so far. The early morning shot of the entire group getting in the van. It was a touristy thing to do, taking everyone’s picture but she was a tourist. The hikers that never made it out of the van appeared on her screen. All the faces she recalled getting in the van with her. All gone now. Dead. She tensed as Seth stepped in the room behind her. His long fingers moved past her face to tip the screen back.

“Is that from the hotel lobby?”

She nodded.

“This morning before getting into the van,” she said, pointing to the faces on the screen. “I took a picture of the group before we left. You’re welcome to a granola bar or cheese. I also brought peanut butter crackers.”

“From the Ziploc bag?” He grinned.

“I see the clothes fit. The sweater is a bit snug on the chest, but it looks fine.”

“I’ll replace them, thanks,” he said and she couldn’t care less. Looking at those pecs outlined under the sweater left her with a limited vocabulary and heaviness between her legs. Heaviness she was certain he could thin out for her. Great, Simone needed to change the picture in her mind fast.

“Do you mind if I ask you about your brother?”

Seth pivoted on his heels, looking around the room. His eyes landed on every surface. He leveled those blue eyes on her.

“Where did you set my stuff, Simone?”

“Stuff—what stuff?”

“My knife, wallet,” he continued.

“Your wallet is behind me on the counter drying out.”

“My knife?” he groaned.

“A Gerber LMF II is not a knife. It’s a weapon.”

“I’m impressed,” he said. “Now where is it?”

“Answer a few questions first.”

He shook his head. “Americans and their suspicions.” She blanched under his weighted stare and had no clue what she said that was so wrong.

Jerking away from the table, he stood and gathered his things from the counter.

“It’s all there—your cash, even the picture you carry of yourself. A bit vain, don’t you think?”

“It’s my brother, Mikhail,” he admitted.

“You’re a twin? But you said he had different parents. I don’t understand.” She fought not to stare at his cute butt and tried not to imagine another man just like him in the world.

“The knife, Simone—where is it?” His tone turned into an irritated groan. Her brows shifted together.

“Wait a minute, grumpy,” she scolded him. “Explain this picture. Brother—different parents—what’s going on here?” She stiffened as his mouth a breath away from hers. Coffee and raw man filled her nostrils.

“Hand over the knife or I’ll strip search you, lady.”

“Not if you like the family jewels to stay in their bag,” she said, gradually moving the knife she had tucked under her hip to aim the tip at his groin. She trailed his stare down between them. “Why do you carry such a big knife?”

“Up here everybody carries a knife.”

Caught up in the clean scent coming off him, she missed his quick movement, jerking the knife from her hand and clenching his free hand around her wrist. Simone braced a hand to his waist as his chest pressed her up-turned knee into her chest, locking her into the chair. “There’s an easier way to see my family jewels, Simone, but I’ll need to see something in return.”

“I’ve seen them. Remember?” She darted a glance at his teasing eyes.

“They failed to impress you?”

“Quite the opposite, but I prefer jewelry I can wear every day, not just on vacation.”

“Things you buy on vacation aren’t meant for every day. Stick with the smaller everyday jewelry.”

“I’ll keep that in mind next time I’m tempted to make an impulse purchase.” She brushed a finger over his wily eyebrows, smoothing them down flat, one then the other. Seth stayed focused on her mouth she noticed, as he had when his body woke up under the water earlier, curved in toward his navel, the thick tip flush with the surface of the water.

“You can always return it.” That comment screamed divorce to Simone. Was he advocating it or coming out of one?

“I’d prefer the sort you never take off. The kind you bathe in and sleep in.”

“Smart lady,” he said. “Save yourself for jewelry that shines in the darkest rooms.”

“That’s the plan,” she said, the musky raw scent of him made it hard to keep from leaning in and inhaling him deep into her lungs. She focused on the space between his eyes. Any place else was too delicious at the moment as he and the knife returned to the other side of the table. No, she’d had enough cocktail jewelry she wanted something that held its sparkle even after it got dirty. Someone to share her future with. “Tell me about your twin, and why you have different parents,” she said and returned to her computer to search through her pictures on her laptop.

He pushed up from the table.

“Come grab the pillows and blankets from the bed first while I grab the mattress unless you prefer to sleep without heat.”

“Lead the way,” she said, closing the laptop to save her battery.

~~~

Seth knelt in front of the potbelly stove, turning his jacket inside out so the pockets would dry. He glanced up, listening to the soft creaks of the little shanty as wind blew across the shingles outside. Through the small window over the sink, he could see snow falling thicker and faster now.

The sight of her hips cantered out as she studied her screen, had his body standing painfully behind the jeans.

“You were telling me about your brother,” Simone said.

He nodded. “When we were born the doctors informed my parent’s one of their boys was stillborn.” He paused as Simone clutched her stomach and closed her eyes.

“That’s terrible. I’m sorry finish what you were saying,” she said, visibly swallowing back some emotion.

“This happened in Russia thirty years ago. Two years ago, my mother watched a news report where the same doctor was charged with baby trafficking. After months of research, we found that my brother was one of the babies stolen.

“That’s wild…” she said, relaxing on her elbows, her face tilted up, giving him full attention. “What did the news say happened?”

“A Russian newspaper ran the story of a local nurse caught in the trafficking business was to have the charges dropped against her. Turns out my mother recognized her face and contacted the authorities. The case was reopened when more people came forward.”

“After thirty years? Isn’t there a statute of limitation on things like this? How many families were even involved?”

“To be honest, Simone, I don’t care about the legalities of it all. Let the authorities handle that. I just wanna find my brother.”

“So why didn’t he come down to the hotel instead of having you trek all the way up here? And if he’s expecting you, then he’ll come looking for you when you don’t show up tonight.”

He couldn’t help noticing the swell of her hip jutting out as she leaned over the counter and opened her laptop. Moisture built in his mouth while thinking of sharing the bed with her tonight. Her legs wedged between his. Those soft breasts pressed to his chest. He ran his fingers through his hair to regain his focus as she cleared her throat.

“Seth, are you listening to anything I’m saying?” she asked, tapping his foot with hers.

He hooked his ankle around hers and ran his bare feet over her skin. He caught her soft hiss as she pretended not to notice the way he played with her.

“My brother, Mikhail, doesn’t know I exist.”

“You know his name. Why doesn’t he know about you?” 

He relaxed his shoulders, watched her eyes work over the tight sweater stretched across his chest, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth. “Some of the families knew the children were stolen.”

“And you think his family knows the truth about his illegal adoption?”

“What would you conclude when many families refuse to come forward—to speak out?”

Seth leaned in as Simone turned at the waist and leaned back along the hard edge. This woman was beautiful. Boxy sweater and tight jeans made her sexier than he had first thought. She flashed warm, brown eyes up to him.

“They own the hiking lodge at the top of the mountain, don’t they?”

“Yes,” he said, brushing thick soft hair off the tip of her ear and tucking it back. Simone was so different from the women he’d known over the last few years. She was soft. A woman who was caring, loving, and everything he steered away from. That sort of woman was more than he deserved.

“How much danger are you in going up there alone?”

“I won’t get you involved any more than you are. I promise to see you safely down the mountain and to the airport.”

She waved him off, stunning him further.

“You took our bags off the tour van, didn’t you?” she asked.

“No,” he refuted, peering at the thick snow falling past the window through the shutters. If anyone skulked outside recently, their tracks would show now. “We were in the woods together,” he reassured her, running his hand through his hair. “I tracked my brother and his family to these mountains. My mother tried contacting them, but she never received an answer.” He watched her change the screen on the little laptop. More pictures appeared. “Their email account had been hacked and their outgoing mail was being destroyed as the emails were sent or contained viruses. Somebody close to the families knows something.”

Simone hopped up on the counter, held his hand in her lap and the heat off her body was doing him in. “You know who sent the van over the cliff—killing those innocent people, don’t you?”

“Stay out of it, Simone. I’m done answering questions,” he said. And could see her lips forming more questions as he spoke.

“You carry that big knife because someone is following you—us—now?” she asked. He stepped between her legs as the slideshow of photos crossed her laptop screen beside her hip. “Wait a minute! Go back to the picture of the lobby,” he said, absently hooking an arm behind her hip as he leaned over her lap to get a closer view of the monitor. “Right there, stop.” Together they moved the portable mouse over the little pad.

“That was our driver. I don’t remember the other man being on the tour. Do you know who he is?” she asked.

Seth lifted the laptop and angled it toward him, the light from the fire shining out of the stove created an obnoxious glare. He knew that man with the red hair from somewhere.

“Seth?” Simone’s tone was laced with worry. “You know that man, don’t you?” She pointed to the screen.

He placed a hand over hers, threading their fingers together. “He never got in the van did he?” he asked, looking at the man on the screen talking to their driver. Something about him was familiar.

“No,” she started. “Who is he?”

Shaking his head, he pressed a thumb to his forehead and paced the room. He knew that man, but from where? He could picture the over-proud way he moved in the lobby earlier, cocky, untouchable. Who was he? It wasn’t like him to forget a face.