Page 9 of Bitter Heat

She whipped her head around to blast him and blinked. The fancy suit and overcoat were gone, and in its place were stained, worn jeans and a battered khaki-colored wool-lined jacket with a plaid flannel beneath. Roth went from mogul to mountain man so fast, she was struck speechless. As she examined the outfit, which included well-worn snow boots, she had to admit that this was more impressive to her than any tailored suit. She had grown up around wealthy businessmen. She knew the cologne they wore, the women they married, the cars they were chauffeured in, and what made them tick, yet none of that interested her. She had an appreciation for anyone who worked with their hands, and the practical, no-frills clothing was more intriguing to her than any ten-thousand-dollar suit.

“Where did you get those clothes?” she asked.

“They were my father’s.”

“I thought you said he passed when you were a child.”

“He did,” he said as he sat on the couch beside her.

“Kaia kept his clothes all these years?”

“Yes.”

She edged away so they weren’t touching. Nevertheless, she caught a whiff of him and felt a strange stirring. He’d used her black orchid body wash. Why hadn’t he used his mother’s Irish Spring soap? Despite the fact that he used a girly product, an undercurrent of cedar and evergreen changed the scent into something masculine and alluring.

“Tell me what happened today.”

She wrapped an old quilt around her shoulders. “This morning, she was making cornbread. I took a shower, and when I came out, she was face down on the floor.”

The memory of the terror she felt when she had found Kaia made her shift restlessly. It was similar to how she had found her father. All day, she paced the hospital waiting room, braced for more bad news. The fact that Kaia pulled through was nothing short of a miracle.

“I knew it would take too long for an ambulance to come. I don’t know how I did it, but I managed to pick her up and get her in the truck,” she said.

“Adrenaline.”

She nodded. “I didn’t know if it was a stroke or heart attack. She could barely talk. It was snowing, and I couldn’t see very well. I haven’t driven a stick shift in years. I was worried we wouldn’t get there in time…” She shivered and drew the quilt tighter around her. “Once we got there, they told me she needed open heart surgery.”

When the sound of the wind rose to a roar, she hunched her shoulders as if that could protect her from the storm. Two days ago, she watched the snow fall with a smile on her face. At the time, she took it as a sign that everything was going to be okay. Bad shit happened, but the seasons were still going to change, and she had to move with it. Now, the relentless white made her shudder. If she had tried to come back to the cabin by herself, she would have frozen to death. She didn’t know anything about generators and would have huddled in front of the fireplace, praying she didn’t get frostbite.

“You kept a cool head and did what you had to.”

She glanced at him over the edge of the quilt, then quickly averted her gaze. The clothes and warm light playing over his face made him seem more approachable and down to earth, which was a damn lie.

“It was meant to be that I was here when she needed someone,” she said.

“You saved her life.”

Warmth be damned. She rose, unable to take his proximity or his attempt to play the grateful son. Not even an hour ago, he had freely admitted he wasn’t sure he would come to Kaia’s aid despite the fact she’d had a heart attack. She wasn’t going to be manipulated into feeling whatever he wanted her to.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“Food,” she snapped as she headed to the kitchen with the quilt wrapped around her like a cape.

She turned on the gas stove and filled a kettle with hot water. Why hadn’t she thought of making tea earlier? She opened the oven, which she had remembered to turn off after she’d gotten Kaia in the truck, thank God. She was forced to shed the quilt so she could slice the cornbread. Roth loomed in the entry, but she ignored him and exchanged the screeching kettle for a pot of chili. She made two cups of peppermint tea but didn’t offer the second one to him. She left it on the counter and was petty enough to give him the most emasculating mug Kaia had—a goofy, grinning bear. He had to take sips between two round ears. She wasn’t sure if his masculinity could take the hit, but that wasn’t her problem. She took her first gulp and was suffused with warmth. Bliss.

“Did you get your inheritance, or did he shaft you in the end and leave you with nothing?” he asked, interrupting her moment of tranquility.

Her eyes cut to him over the top of her glass. He leaned against the wall, composed and at ease with the bear mug in hand. She was miffed to see that, paired with his outfit, the cup didn’t look as ridiculous as she had hoped. She ignored his question and stirred the chili.

“You didn’t like the terms of his trust,” he surmised when she didn’t respond. “You didn’t get your cut even though you went back and played the perfect daughter. That’s why you came to Colorado. You’re on the run again.”

Her jaw ached from clenching her teeth. She made a monumental mistake when she confided her hopes and fears to him. She handed him every weapon he needed to dissect and manipulate her.

“Not surprising that he cut you out. Maximus is the coldest bastard I know,” he said.

She whirled to face him with a wooden spoon covered in chili in hand. She jabbed it in his direction and didn’t care that chili splattered over the floor. “Don’t talk about him like that!”

She raised the spoon as he approached. He stopped just out of swiping distance and set the empty bear mug on the counter with a finality she didn’t like. When he leaned forward, she prepared to smack him, but he didn’t reach for her. Instead, he skewered her with eyes that glittered with banked rage.

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