It may not have been snowing furiously at the ranch at the moment, but it was hitting Aspen and spitting on Sweetrock with a vengence.
And from the looks of it, it would be dumping on the Rafe’s ranch once again as well.
Cami didn’t dare move from the porch. The drifts were piled high around it, on it, and against it as though there were simply no other place to store the icy fluff.
For the first time in her life, she found the snow to be an inconvenience and she was wishing it away with everything inside her. The longer she stayed here, the more likely destruction was apt to build around her.
What had possessed her to ever take this much longer route home? To ever risk something like this happening?
Just to see if she could glimpse signs of life in the Ramsey ranch house. To see if the rumors that Clyde Ramsey’s nephew, Rafer Callahan, had returned were true.
She hadn’t expected it to begin snowing. When it had begun just after she made the turn from Aspen, she had convinced herself it was nothing. It would flurry awhile, then go away just as it had done several times in the past weeks.
By the time her car had slid into an icy drift at the mouth of his driveway she was certain fate was laughing its ass off at her. This was what she got for tempting it, for all those dark, lonely nights that she had wished things were different and she was in his arms rather than sleeping alone.
How silly she had been to have slipped away from him the few nights they’d had together. She should have just stayed with him while he was in and gotten the hunger out of her system rather than running. Leaving as she had, had left so many things unanswered and incomplete. And it had left so many desires still raging inside her, tempting her, tormenting her—
She rubbed at the chill in her arms as a wave of inner heat swept through her womb to settle in her pussy and wrap around her clit.
She was growing wet again, but she was also wishing, remembering — wishing things had been different and remembering the fantasies, not so much of sex or the wild, impossibly heated pleasure that could flare between them. It was the dreams that slipped into her mind once she slept that really tore at her.
The dreams of his arms around her, his laughter at her ear. The sound of his voice, low, deep, as he just whispered her name. The sound of something more — she pushed the thought away. It was those thoughts, those dreams, that slipped up on her and weakened her. That created moments like now. When the nightmares slipped out as well and threatened the fragile peace she had found.
She couldn’t have him and she knew it.
There was too much Rafe was unaware of, and too much pain tearing at her to allow it.
Too much pain, fear, and the knowledge of what would happen to her soul if she lost him to death. If somehow, someone decided to try to harm him, and, God forbid, succeeded.
And still she was torn in her needs and in her anger. She fought not just herself and her own needs but also his desires and the return of reality.
A reality that could destroy her and her own needs.
This wasn’t a good thing. She couldn’t be stuck here until the roads were cleared. Once her car was found, then the first place state workers would search for her was at the ranch. Her uncle Eddy Flannigan worked on the state road crew. She couldn’t imagine the worry, and possibly the fear that she was about to repeat the past, if he found her there. Especially if he realized where she had slept.
In Rafer Callahan’s bed and in his arms. Of course he wouldn’t have to realize anything. He knew her and he would know where she had slept.
She leaned against the support post and stared at the ground where more than four feet of snow had fallen, and the drifts against the house were even higher. In places, they were at least five feet deep or more. The news said to expect two or more feet as well, coming that day or into the evening, and possibly another six to twelve inches before dawn.
It was the blizzard that had threatened to roll across the mountains all winter.
There wasn’t a chance of escaping the icy sanctuary she had found or the emotional abyss she was beginning to stare into.
There was a reason she had run from Rafe each time they had spent the night together. Slipping from his hotel room before he awoke and catching a ride to the nearest airport or car rental.
She had run because sleeping with him had opened something inside her that she hadn’t been able to face. It had thrown her back into the past with a suddenness that had left her crying for days. The memories were going to destroy her. She could feel it coming. They were right there, fighting to rush in and destroy her control, and there wasn’t a lot of control left some days. Some days the unnamed restless pain that never seemed to dissipate seemed to grow. To overtake that part of her with a hunger that threatened to destroy her.
The first time she had seen him the summer she had turned thirteen, she had sworn she had fallen in love with the man her sister called her best friend, Rafer Callahan. The man Cami had known instinctively that her sister was sleeping with.
Cami had loved his name. She had loved his fierce blue eyes, the laughter in them, the way he walked with such cocky confidence, and the way he had smiled at her.
For months she had haunted her sister’s apartment, even though he had moved out. Cami had watched for him, searched for him. He had never been far from her mind on any given day.
She had promised herself she wouldn’t do this again. Irritation and frustration were rising inside her now. She had sworn she wouldn’t allow herself to ever come this close to losing her soul as she had the last time she and Rafer had been together. Yet here she was doing just that. She was losing the control it took to keep him at arm’s length and to control the emotions that swirled inside her like a violent storm.
Turning, Cami moved back into the warmth of the kitchen, watching as Rafe cleaned up the dishes from the simple dinner of pork roast, red potatoes, gravy, and rolls she had prepared from the supplies he had on hand.
He’d watched her cook as though no one had ever cooked for him. Silently, his sapphire gaze had tracked every move she made, hunger gleaming in his eyes.
“Coffee?” He looked at her expectantly, one black brow arching quizzically.
He was too damned good-looking for her peace of mind. Six feet, three inches, broad, muscular — if there was an ounce of fat on his flesh, then she hadn’t found it yet.
His thick, silky black hair fell around his face, giving the savage features a sexy, sensuous cast that immediately drew female eyes. It always looked a bit mussed, as though a woman had just run her fingers through it and enjoyed the soft, cool feel of it.
Dressed in jeans, sneakers and a flannel shirt, the long sleeves rolled to his elbows, he looked like a lazy tiger prowling his lair. Biding his time before he took his mate.
She almost didn’t control the jerk of shock that hit her at the thought. She wasn’t a mate; she wasn’t a lover. This was where she invariably managed to get herself in trouble when it came to Rafer.
Rafe, she reminded herself. She was going to have to begin calling him Rafe, or she would draw more attention to herself than she wanted. Everyone called him Rafe. No one ever called him Rafer except her. And she just couldn’t seem to break the habit.
“Daydreaming or fantasizing, Cambria?” That silky drawl, so wicked in its sensuality, had her gaze jerking from his chest to his face.
“Excuse me?” She blinked back at him, wondering if he could see into those fantasies and daydreams.
He gave a light chuckle as he moved to the coffeepot. “Have a seat; I’ll make the coffee.”
She stepped warily to the table, only just barely controlling her flush of embarrassment at what had taken place on that table the night before.