Page 4 of Her Mountain Boss
His eyes take a slow walk down my body, lingering on my hips and thighs. “Sometimes.”
“Okay,” I say, biting my lip. “Sounds good. Thank you.”
He clears his throat, looking everywhere in the cabin but at me. He’s leaning against the kitchen counter, and I notice that his fingers are curled around the edge, gripping so tightly his knuckles are white. I shift slightly, seeing if movement will draw his attention back to me.
I like his attention on me. A lot.
What can I do to get more of it?
He doesn’t look at me. Not directly. Not when he knows I’m looking at him. But the second I glance away, I can feel his eyes on me, my skin prickling, tingling with awareness.
I really don’t understand what’s happening between us, but I know I like it. I want more of it, even though I know I shouldn’t.
What is he thinking right now? What does he think of me? Is he curious? Annoyed?
Attracted? I wish I had more experience in reading situations like this.
He sighs, his chest heaving, drawing my attention to the outline of his pecs pushing against the white T-shirt beneath his open flannel. Maybe…maybe he’s not anything. Maybe he’s just quiet. A little grumpy.
What would it take to make him smile?
My mind is whirring as I stare at Ford. Just Ford. NotUncle Ford. Despite his ruggedness, the utter masculinity dripping off of him, he’s beautiful. The way his thick, dark hair is shot through with copious amounts of silver. His blue eyes that would make a glacier jealous. His perfect beard. His muscled frame, strong hands, inked skin…he’s a work of art.
He pushes away from the counter in a sudden movement, as though the silence stretching out between us has suddenly become too much for him. “Dinner’s at the lodge at six.” His eyes skim over my body. “There’s a jacket with the resort’s logo on it in the closet. In case you’re cold.” He reaches into his pocket and fishes out the key to my cabin, holding it out for me. I take it with slightly trembling fingers, and when our hands brush, he pulls back quickly, like he’s been burned. The key falls to the floor with a metallic ping.
“Sorry,” I say, bending down and quickly scooping it up. I’m not even fully upright before he starts to head for the door. He brushes past me, a hint of that warm cedar smell making my stomach dip and swirl. “Wait,” I say hastily. He pauses by the door, the knob already in his huge hand. “I…” I struggle to come up with something to say. Something to keep him here for just another few seconds. “Thank you. For this opportunity, and for taking a chance on me.”
He doesn’t turn around. A beat passes, and I hear him exhale. “You’re welcome, Sophia.”
The way he says my name does something to me. He sounds like he’s in pain, like he’s gritting it out, and I want to know why. I’ve known him for less than an hour and I want to know everything about this man.
He opens the door and steps out, closing it gently behind him without a backwards glance. But I’m not ready to let him go yet, so I race to the window, watching his broad back as he walks down the path toward the lodge.
Watching until I can’t see him anymore.
It’s only when I turn away from the window that I realize my cheeks hurt from grinning like an absolute fool.
Two
Ford
Christ.
I stomp back to the main lodge, gravel flying, twigs snapping as I try to put as much distance between me and mystep-nieceas I can. The crisp autumn air does nothing to cool the blood pumping through my veins, hot and fast. Fucking hell, I was expecting some kid. A dorky, awkward intern looking to pad her resume. Not…her.
Sophia.
I rub the back of my neck, trying to erase the tension stiffening the muscles there. The image of her is burned into my mind. I couldn’t stop staring, and I know she noticed. She probably thinks I’m some degenerate pervert.
But Christ. Those warm hazel eyes, wide and expressive behind her glasses. The mass of auburn curls piled on top of her head in a messy bun, begging for my fingers. And her body…fuck me, her body. My step-niece (I keep repeating who she is to myself, hoping it’ll help me cool the hell down. It hasn’t worked yet.) is all curves, soft and inviting. She’s got this tiny waist thatflares out to gorgeous hips. Perfect breasts that would probably just fill my hands.
She’s not a kid. She’s a woman. A young woman, but a woman all the same.
And she’s my goddamn fucking step-niece.
I growl low in my throat, frustration pushing up inside my chest. I should’ve known better than to agree to this. But how could I have anticipated…this? Whatever the fuck this is? I feel like I’ve lost my mind. Like I’m an unmoored ship and Sophia’s a storm that blew in unexpectedly, sending me reeling. Capsizing under the gale force of her.
I can honestly say that in all of my fifty years, I’ve never reacted to a woman the way I reacted to Sophia. I’ve never experienced an attraction so instant, so visceral. So intense and consuming.
