Merry and Bright(29)

It was killing her, knowing she’d been forced to borrow from him, but it was also temporary.

As in a lump payment was due to him in LA by January 1 . . .

Twenty-one days . . .

She’d e-mailed Edward—he didn’t do personal contact—to ask for a little teeny tiny extension, but she hadn’t heard back yet.

Don’t go there now, she told herself, and moved toward the foyer, followed by Lori. She opened the front door and was immediately assaulted by the wind and snow. She squinted past it to take in the tall, dark stranger who was dressed as if he’d just walked off the cover of a glossy man’s magazine.

“Does it always snow like this?” he asked, stomping the snow from his boots, his voice low and husky as if he was half frozen.

Tall, dark and irritated, she corrected. “In December, yes. Can I help you?”

He squinted through his glasses past snowflakes the size of dinner plates. “My car got stuck about a half mile back.”

Behind her, Lori gave her a little nudge. See? There he is, the penis I wished for.

Hope ignored her as she eyed the guy on her step. He had his hood up. Sure his voice sounded fine, even attractive, but that didn’t make him a good guy. Until she saw his face, she wasn’t letting her guard down. “Four-wheel drive?” she asked him.

“No, it’s a rental. I have chains on it, though.”

So he wasn’t a local. “Yeah, not good enough, not on a night like this one.” His clothes screamed big city, from his fancy coat down to his fancy boots. Maybe New York, maybe Los Angeles—either way he was definitely not used to Colorado winter driving. “If you’d like to rent a room for the night, I can get you help digging out your car in the morning.”

“Yeah, okay. Thanks.”

When she moved back and opened the door wider, he stepped inside, giving her a brief impression of a lanky lean build, but not much else. He smelled good, though. Woodsy, citrusy . . . masculine.

He turned to her then and let his hood fall back as he opened his coat, looking at her with a hint of wariness as if he was waiting for something, which came immediately.

Recognition.

As it hit her, she went still. Danny Shaw, her stepbrother’s CPA. He had a striking face, she’d give him that. High cheekbones, rich mahogany eyes slightly magnified by the sophisticated wire-rimmed glasses on his nose. His hair matched his eyes and was trimmed short. With his coat open, she could see his tailored pants and shirt, both undoubtedly as expensive as his glasses. If she hadn’t known him, she’d have taken another minute to fully appreciate his fine form.

But she did know him, and all the friendly drained from her, replaced by tension. “Did you come to give me an extension?”

“Unfortunately, no.”

She felt the air leave her lungs as if he’d hit her. “Then get out.”

“We need to talk, Hope.”

“No.” She hauled open the door again, ignoring the snow that pelted her. “Get out.”

“Hope,” Lori murmured. “Who is this, another ex-boyfriend?”

“No. Worse. Meet Danny Shaw, my brother’s lackey. And I still have three weeks left.” She jerked her head toward outside. “Good-bye, Danny.”

“You just offered me a room.” His voice was very distinctive with its low, husky timber, and she kicked herself for not recognizing it sooner. After all, she’d met with him when negotiating the loan from Edward, because heaven forbid Edward get his hands dirty with the details.

And the details had been dirty. Edward hadn’t exactly given her a favorable loan. Nope, he’d been less than one step from a loan shark, but she’d figured go with the devil she knew... “I’ve just unoffered the room,” she said, once again gesturing for him to go. “You’re letting out all my bought air.”

“We really need to talk first, Hope.”

“Sorry, but I don’t talk to rat bastards.”

He raised a brow. “Rat bastard is what you call your brother.”

“Yes, and as Edward’s representative, you get the same consideration. Get out, Danny. Go home. Tell him I’ll get him his money on time.” Since he didn’t budge, she grabbed his hand and pulled him to the door. He stepped over the threshold, then turned back to face her to say something.

But she shut the door in his face.





Danny let out a shuddery breath. Shuddery because he was a minute away from freezing his nuts off. When he’d flown out of Los Angeles that morning, it’d been sunny and a slightly chilly sixty-eight degrees.

Ha. He hadn’t known chilly. He hadn’t known a lot of things, such as how bad the rental car would be, or the depths of Hope’s worry and fear. He wrapped his coat tighter around him and pulled his hood back up before once again knocking on the door.

She didn’t answer, but he would have sworn he could hear her breathing through the wood. Hope, of the pretty strawberry blond hair that was slipping out of its ponytail and into her eyes, which were so blue he could have drowned in them. Hope, of the petite, willowy frame that hid an inner strength of steel. That strength shouldn’t have surprised him; after all she was an O’Brien. “Come on, Hope. Let me in.”

More of her loaded nothing, and he sighed, shoving his hands in his pockets and hunching his shoulders against the wind as if that would help. Christ, why would anyone choose to live here? “Look, I should have called first, okay? But if I had, you wouldn’t have agreed to see me.”