Название: Snowed in with Her Ex
Автор: Andrea Laurence
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
isbn: 9781474002813
isbn:
Bree frowned and took a slight step backward, feeling her shoulder blades meet with one of the rustic wooden columns that supported the loft. “Of course I mean it. I mean, breakups happen and they’re sometimes ugly, but you’re happy with your life now, right?”
“If you believe what you read in the magazines, I guess so. I know I should be. I’m marrying one of the sexiest women on Earth. We’re going to have a beautiful baby. My business is better than ever.”
Bree’s eyes focused on the slight downturn of his mouth as he spoke. He wasn’t happy. Not at all. And she hated that. No matter what had happened between them, she wanted to see Ian happy. “So what’s the problem?” she asked.
He took another step toward her, his height towering over her as he came nearer. “The problem?” A bitter chuckle escaped his lips. “Well, first, I’m not in love with Missy. Hell, I’m not even attracted to her. It’s a long, sordid story I won’t bore you with, but the punch line is that she’s selfish and spoiled and doesn’t give a damn about me unless there’s a camera nearby. Second, she’s the worst possible woman I could’ve chosen to start a family with. I’m already interviewing nannies because I know that’s the person who’s going to raise our child.”
Ian leaned in, planting his palm on the polished wooden post over her head. “And to make matters worse, on top of all that, I find myself here. Trapped in a cabin with you. A woman who did love me once. One who would’ve made an excellent wife and mother. One who had the power to set my blood boiling with just a touch.”
Bree drew in a ragged breath as Ian’s hand brushed over her forehead and moved a strand of her hair from her face. Her entire body was tense, her stomach knotting tighter with every word he spoke.
“One who still has the power to make my entire body ache with the memory of making love to her,” he whispered.
His gaze was focused on her lips as he spoke. He ran his fingers along her cheek and Bree’s eyes instantly fluttered closed to savor the touch. The warm heat of his caress against her skin made her pulse pound harder than it had in a very long time. She took a deep breath and forced her eyes back open in time for his thumb to graze gently across her lips.
Was he about to kiss her? It would be wrong. So wrong. Yet, in that moment it was all she could think of. All she wanted.
“And I can’t do a damn thing about it.” He pulled away, taking several steps back as though her touch had nearly burned him.
Bree felt her knees weaken beneath her once he pulled away. It was as if he had yanked the rug out from under her. She righted herself and fidgeted, tugging anxiously at her pullover and tossing her hair over her shoulder.
What the hell was she thinking? She had very nearly melted into the arms of another woman’s fiancée. She was their wedding photographer! Past or no past, that was all kinds of wrong. Natalie would kill her if she knew.
Bree took a deep breath and pulled herself together. Reacting to Ian didn’t help either of them. “I’m sorry to hear your relationship is less than ideal,” she said in her most formal, detached voice.
Ian’s gaze ran over her face for a moment before he spoke. “Yeah. Me, too,” he said, turning on his heel and disappearing into the other room.
“Gretchen, I’ve made a big mistake.”
Bree had made a quick getaway to her bedroom after her encounter with Ian. She’d needed some personal space to clear her head and purge her lungs of his scent. She’d hauled her bags up the stairs and selected the room with a wall of windows overlooking the valley below. The queen-size four-poster bed had a gray velvet brocade comforter and navy silk curtains to enclose the bed if she chose.
That wasn’t a bad idea. The room was luxurious and spacious. Perhaps she should just wrap herself up in a silk cocoon and stay here until the snow melted. She could forage for food in the night while Ian slept and maybe squirrel away a box of crackers or something to keep up here. Maybe then they could stop antagonizing each other.
After closing the door, she’d grabbed her phone and dialed one of her friends and business partners, Gretchen. Natalie would be horrified by the entire situation. Amelia would want to talk about Bree’s feelings. But she just wanted to vent to someone who would listen, then tell her to put on her big-girl panties. That was Gretchen—their calligrapher, invitation and program designer and wedding day jack-of-all-trades.
“I hear you’re snowed into a million-dollar mountain house. I really feel bad for you.”
That was one way of looking at it, but it was getting harder and harder to remember that fact. The house was beautiful; every inch was filled with expensive furniture, detailed stone craftsmanship and state-of-the-art electronics. Her bedroom was nicer than some five-star hotels. “Did Amelia leave out the part where I’m stuck alone with the groom?”
“No, she mentioned that. Why does it matter? Is he creepy? Or a jerk?”
Bree hesitated. “No, he isn’t creepy. But he is my...uh...ex from college.”
“What?” Gretchen’s sharp voice nearly climbed through the phone to smack her upside the head.
“Shh!” Bree insisted. She had no doubt that Gretchen was in the office and she didn’t need her shouting to draw the others. “No one can know, okay? Especially not Natalie. She’ll flip out.”
“It sounds like you’re flipping out. Is that what the thing Monday was about? Why you were so interested in the Missy Kline wedding?”
Bree frowned. “Maybe. It caught me off guard to find out he was getting married. And to her, of all people.”
“So now you two are trapped together. What’s going on that you’re not telling me? You sound really wound up. The guy is getting married. And to Missy Kline! There shouldn’t be an issue, even with your past together. Wait...you haven’t tempted him away with your worn-out Converse and your messy ponytail, have you?”
“You hush,” Bree snapped. She felt bad enough comparing herself to Missy; she didn’t need Gretchen’s help. “It’s a proximity problem. We didn’t exactly part well and being together after all this time...”
“Don’t pick at the scabs, Bree.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“I don’t know what happened between you two, but considering I’ve known you for eight years and have never heard of you dating this guy, I figure you’re picking at an old wound that should’ve healed a long time ago. You need to leave it alone or you’ll reopen it. That’s not the best idea when you’re trapped in a house together. What good will it do to stir all that stuff up again, anyway?”
She was right. Nothing Bree said or did this weekend was going to change anything. When the snow melted, she would drive back to Nashville and resume her work. Ian would do the same. He might not be rushing home to reunite with the love of his life, but he would still go home to Missy and the baby. She had no doubt of that.
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