Page 57 of Whiteout

Ian opened the front door, and taking Breanna by the hand, led her down the walkway, past the portico, to the service garage. He entered the code, and the panels lifted, her stunned gaze sweeping over an array of ATVs, snowplows, and power shovels.

She ignored his Mercedes-AMG GT, walking right over to the Raptor parked next to it. “I remember you.” Running her fingers along the glossy black paint, Breanna glanced back at him. “Okay, let’s go.”

“We’re not taking the truck.” With a grin, he nodded toward the waiting Polaris. “Hop on, princess.”

“I am so not getting on that thing,” she said, her head tossing from side to side.

“Yes, you are.” Ian lifted her onto the sled’s passenger seat. “How else am I supposed to show you your mountain?”

“I’ve seen enough of it, thank you.” Putting her gloves on, Breanna blew out a breath. “Besides, it isn’t mine.”

“Yes, it is.” He sat down on the sled in front of her, placing her arms around his waist. “And, baby, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”

It took but a moment for the rush of adrenalin to hit her. Taking a drink of brilliant sunshine, surrounded by the bluest winter sky and the purest white snow, Breanna held onto him tight, the sound of swooshing wind accompanying her gleeful laughter.

Ian took her up past the edge of the tree line. Stopping there, he sat her on his lap and pointed. “See that shimmer way out there on the horizon?”

“Yes, I see it.”

“That’s Tahoe.” Watching her face, he rubbed her gloved hand with his.

She smiled. “We went there the summer my brother turned two.”

So close. Why didn’t her mom bring her to see Valerie?

Breanna would have been thirteen then, and Ian, twenty-two. He’d spent so many of his days—and wild nights with women he could no longer remember—at Tahoe that summer before law school. He could’ve walked right past his princess, not that he’d have noticed her then.

“You’ve got a lake here too.” Kind of. “There’s a waterfall that empties into a large pool, then makes its way down the mountain. We swam there as kids. I know your dad did, too.” He chuckled at the memory. “The water’s always fucking freezing. We never did seem to mind, though. C’mon, I’ll show you.”

And he did.

Ian took her to see the bighorn sheep. Told her all about the mountain lions who preyed on them, the black bears that would slumber until the return of spring, while pointing out redwood, and cedar, and pine. He wanted Breanna to fall in love with this place. Needed her to. She’d fight for it then. If she didn’t, Derek would surely win.

Powder flying, he followed the stream on his path down the mountain. Then, reaching his destination, he skidded to a stop. After switching off the engine, he removed his gloves and lifted her from the sled. “You’re tied to that house, this land, whether or not you want to be. It’s in your blood, baby.” Warming her cold, windburned cheeks in his hands, he touched his lips to the fading bruise on her forehead. “That’s our cabin.”

“Your castle in the storm, princess.”

She turned around. Knee-deep in snow, thirty feet from the back of it, Breanna gazed at the small frosted window and smiled. “I want to go in.”

His arms came around her, holding her back to his chest. Seven days. Why did it seem like a lifetime ago? Ian brought her here, fed her soup, and fucked her bare—except it felt like a lot more than just fucking. He made love to her, didn’t he? And that was something he’d never done with anyone before.

Nope, and I told myself I never would, so, how’d you get me to do it, princess?

“We can.” Ian gripped her nape, and bringing her mouth to his, he nipped at her lips. “But I have a much better idea.”

“Yeah, and what’s that?”

“I’ll show you.” He kissed her. “Let’s go home.”

They cleaned the snow off their boots at the front door. Taking Breanna by the hand, Ian gestured for her to be quiet and led her toward the stairs. But the dog possessed supersonic hearing, apparently, and before they could make the furtive climb, Hera came running over to greet them.

“Hey, sweetie.” Of course, the traitor went to Breanna for a rub between the ears first. “Did you miss me?”

It would appear so.

“Ian?” Francie’s voice rang out from somewhere in the house. It sounded like it was coming from the kitchen. “Are you two back?”

“Yes, Auntie.”

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