The Knight Before Chris Page 4

  "I couldn't agree more,” Chris said as he moved forward. “I'd like to get back to the cabin, too."

  When he grabbed the ax, Winter's grip tightened. “Hey, piss off!” she cried. “I'll cut the tree."

  "It's taking too damn long,” Chris countered as he attempted to pull the ax out of her grip.

  When she felt the ax slip from her gloved fingers, Winter threw herself at Chris in anger. “Give it back!” she wailed.

  Chris lost his footing. The ax flew to his side as he teetered backwards. At the very last second, his hands wrapped around her waist and she tumbled with him. Snow billowed around them and Chris’ arms held her tight to his chest.

  Winter blinked in surprise and attempted to roll off him. His hands held in her place. He smiled up at her. “Well, well. Can't wait long enough to get back to the cabin?"

  "Fuck you!” Winter cried as she attempted to roll off him.

  Chris’ chest vibrated as he laughed. “That's exactly what I had in mind."

  Winter struggled to keep her wits about her. The warmth of his body, so close to hers, made her mind whirl with need. Don't give in! Don't let him win! “Let me go,” she said through clenched teeth. “Even if I wanted to have sex with you, it's too damn cold out here."

  "Is it?” Chris said, then his lips touched hers. He discarded his gloves before his hands dug beneath her thick coat. Warm hands slid beneath her sweater and softly kneaded the flesh of her back.

  Winter moaned as his lips covered hers. What little willpower she had quickly ebbed away under his heated touch. His hands slowly glided down her back to the band of her jeans. She braced her knees in the snow on either side of his hips in order to allow his fingers to open her jeans. She moaned when his fingers flowed down, skimming under the rim of her panties. She sighed against his mouth as his hands cupped her buttocks.

  She knew she should stop this madness; that no good could come from this. And yet, her body sang beneath his heated touch.

  Winter's gloved hand reached between them and settled over his ramrod strength. She ached to touch him, to nuzzle him against her cool cheeks. She tore her mouth from his and sat up. He chuckled when she ripped the gloves off her hands with her teeth and tossed them aside. She fumbled with the fly of his jeans but managed to pull it open. He hissed when the cool air hit his rock-hard penis.

  "You should know it's true about the cold and a man's erection,” he said.

  Winter shimmied down his body, then her hands cupped him. He wouldn't feel the cold for long. He moaned when she quickly closed her mouth over him and gently massaged him with her teeth and tongue.

  The snow beneath his hips squeaked as he raised his hips to meet her lips. Winter was vaguely aware of her warm breath steaming in the cold air as she continued to suck his engorged cock. He tasted so good, his strength filled her mouth almost to the point of overflowing.

  Chris sighed heavily and placed his hands on either side of her head. He urged her upward, dragging her down over him again as his mouth closed over hers. He released his lips from hers and gazed up at her face.

  "You have an amazing mouth,” he said softly. “And I look forward to a time when I can fully enjoy it. But it's too cold out here and I need to sink my cock inside you."

  Winter laughed as he pushed her jeans over her ass. She barely noticed the cold air against her bare hips as his fingers sought her out.

  "I never knew being swallowed whole by a barracuda could be this damn sweet,” he said.

  Winter felt as though a pail of icy water was suddenly tossed over her body. She wanted to ignore his words; she wanted to feel something other than anger. She wanted to feel him move inside her and never look back.

  But his fingers digging into her core suddenly felt cold and intrusive. She wanted to cry, to scream, to flail her hands against his chest!

  Winter quickly rolled off him and grappled in the snow. She rose and quickly snapped her jeans closed.

  "What?” Chris blinked up at her in disbelief. “What's wrong?"

  Winter shook her head and quickly made her way down the path back to the cabin. She could try to explain, but she suspected Chris wouldn't understand. After all, she'd earned the reputation in court. Why wouldn't he think of her as a barracuda when they made love?

  Chapter 5

  Chris grumbled as he lugged the tree behind him through the snow. Winter had quickly left him lying in the snow, needing her like he'd never needed anyone before.

  The bitch!

  Maybe there really was something to the rumors about her and the last man in her life. Maybe he should be counting himself lucky she'd gone down on him and left his cock intact.

  So why did he bother to cut the tree she'd picked out and pull it back to the cabin? It wasn't as though she'd thank him for it. In fact, he fully expected her to chew his ears off when he dragged the tree into the cabin.

  Okay, so he'd had time to figure things out. Winter left because he'd called her a barracuda. She'd made it clear when they met that she hated that particular name.

  So what? It wasn't as if she'd never heard it before. In fact, when reporters surrounded her after the settlement had finally been reached, they'd referred to her as barracuda more than once. She'd smiled for the cameras, said that justice had been served. No man, not even someone as high profile as Chris Donnelly, would get away with screwing over his wife.

  So what was the big deal when he'd used the name? Was it possible there really was a chink in the armor she'd so carefully surrounded herself with? Was it really possible the name hurt?

  Chris got to the door and stopped. His hand hovered over the doorknob as he pondered the questions going through his head.

  Naw.

  The Winter Knight he'd come to know over the past two years was made of sturdier stuff. Something else had drawn her away. Shit, maybe she'd come to her senses at the last moment, realized she'd gone down on a former client's ex-husband. There was probably some conflict of interest at play there.

  Chris chuckled to himself as his hand settled on the doorknob. He stopped again as something new occurred to him. So why had he dragged the tree home? What had he hoped to accomplish?

  It was a peace offering, something to soothe the savage beast ... or at the very least, allow him within spitting distance.

  Until a couple nights ago, he thought Linda had sucked the very life out of him. Since they'd split up, more than a few women had shared his bed. But none affected him the way Winter had.

  Chris was no fool. He knew his attraction to Winter was about the power she'd wielded over him while she was Linda's lawyer. And he was fully aware he'd finally found a way to possess her. There was a certain measure of satisfaction in putting it to a woman who had put it to him for so fucking long.

  Chris shouldered the door open and pulled the tree inside. He saw her sitting on the couch with her back to him, as he closed the door and shucked out of his boots and coat.

  He rubbed his hands together and blew on them. “Shit, it's cold out there,” he said.

  Winter went rigid but didn't reply.

  Chris took a step closer to her. “Did you see those clouds overhead?” he said. “There's more snow coming soon. No telling how long we'll be holed up here."

  Silence.

  "I brought the tree."

  Nothing. Winter continued to sit with her back to him. Her head rolled back slightly. Her hand lifted and disappeared in front of her face. And then, he wasn't sure, but did he hear a sniffle?

  Fuck! Is she crying? Had he actually made the barracuda cry? Was that even possible?

  His hands fell to his sides as he walked toward her. She sniffled again and dabbed her eyes with a tissue. Chris shook his head. There was only one thing to do. He leaned down and placed his ice cold hands on her cheeks.

  Winter screeched and bolted from the couch. She peered at him with angry, glossy eyes. “What did you do that for?” she wailed.

  Chris blinked at her tear-stained cheeks and puffy re
d eyes. His heart ached. He wanted to draw her into his arms and tell her he'd make everything right. “I'm sorry,” he said numbly. “I shouldn't have called you the barracuda earlier."

  Chris winced when Winter glared at him. “Are you so full of yourself that you think that word hurts me?” she asked. “Do you know how often I've heard it?"

  "I expect you've heard it many times,” he said. “But how often have you heard it from a lover?"

  Winter laughed sarcastically. “What does that mean? Do you really think you're my lover?” Her eyes pierced him with anger. “Don't fool yourself, Donnelly. What happened between us last night was a mistake—"

  "What happened this afternoon wasn't,” Chris said, cutting her off. He tried to rein in his anger. “Let's not forget the fact that you went down on me."

  Winter opened her mouth and then snapped it closed. Chris smiled. “Kind of hard to explain that one, isn't it?"

  Winter turned to the fire and tossed her tissue into it. Her eyes were hooded when she turned back. “What's your point?"

  Chris expected she had no desire to hear it. He'd won the battle but the war would rage on. He took a deep breath. “So let's call a truce for tonight,” he said. “It's Christmas Eve after all."

  Chris didn't realize he was holding his breath until Winter's face softened. “All right,” she said finally. “Good will to men and all that rot."

  He let his breath out slowly and turned to the tree. “First thing we need to do is find something to put this tree in."

  He smiled as he dragged the tree further into the cabin. He wasn't sure how he'd accomplished it, but at least Winter was being civil. It was definitely the first step toward talking her into his bed.

  * * * *

  Winter grinned as she pushed a needle through the popcorn and looked up at Chris’ handiwork. “A little more to the left,” she said.

  Her grin deepened when Chris frowned and leaned down to grab the base of the tree to move it slightly. “How's that?” He looked at her with hope.

  Winter frowned as she speared another piece of popcorn. She glanced at the tree and frowned as she pushed the popcorn over the needle and slid it over the long length of thread. “Maybe just a smidgeon to the right."

  Chris glared at her. “What the fuck is a smidgeon?” he asked.

  Winter shrugged. “In this case, half an inch or so."

  Chris shook his head as he backed away from the tree. “Half an inch isn't going to matter,” he said. “Either you like it where it is, or you can move the fucking thing yourself.” His hands braced his lower back. “I've been bent under that thing since we stuck it in the pail an hour ago. My back's aching."

  Winter grinned. “Poor baby,” she murmured.

  Chris’ eyes narrowed as he looked down at her. “Somehow, I don't think you feel sorry for me."

  "Somehow, I think you're right,” she shot back. She motioned to the bowl of popcorn. “Sit down and help me string this stuff. It's not like we have anything else to decorate the tree with."

  "I beg to differ,” he said.

  Before she could question him further, he disappeared into the bedroom and quickly returned with a cardboard box. She frowned when he opened it and pulled out several long strands of garland, mini lights and boxes of ornaments.

  "You son of a bitch!” she cried. “I've been stringing popcorn for the past hour when all the while you knew there was a box of decorations for the tree in the bedroom?"

  Chris’ eyes twinkled. “My mom used to string popcorn for the tree,” he said as he looked at the strands at her feet. “I thought it would make a nice addition."

  Winter remembered the frail woman testifying against Linda in the first year of their divorce battle. Clearly, she'd been very sick, yet she'd come to court to tell the judge how Linda had used her son. She'd only made the one appearance. She'd been summoned a second time but was excused because she had been too ill to appear.

  Winter picked a large red ornament from the box and placed it on the tree. She winced but felt compelled to ask. “How is your mother?"

  Chris let out a long breath as he strung the popcorn strands on the tree. “She died a year ago."

  Winter's heart constricted. Linda had portrayed Madeline Donnelly as the witch who had been at the base of their problems from the start. Winter had to admit, she'd never been convinced her client's accusations were true. Looking back, she should have seen Linda's venomous accusations against Chris’ mother as the first sign.

  Linda knew Chris's mother was fighting breast cancer and showed no concern for the woman. The one time the woman testified on her son's behalf, Winter raked her over the coals, skillfully twisting her testimony to suit Linda's case. The experience had clearly tired the woman almost to the point of near unconsciousness. The bailiff had to assist her from the witness stand.

  Winter remembered the moment as if it happened just yesterday. She'd stood in front of her desk, smug and self-assured, as the bailiff assisted the old woman to her seat. As Mrs. Donnelly passed by, her eyes connected with Winter's. Rich emerald eyes pierced her with anger, blazing with contempt. Her body was frail but her eyes still burned with fiery life. If she'd been able, Winter was sure the woman would have lunged for her throat.

  "I'm truly sorry,” Winter said softly.

  Chris shrugged. “Why?” When Winter didn't reply, he added. “You didn't know her.” He reached for another ornament and turned to the tree. “I've made my peace with it."

  Winter swallowed hard as she averted her gaze. She'd used every trick in the book to downplay the woman's testimony. She'd eventually managed to convince the judge that Mrs. Donnelly would say anything to protect her son.

  As they placed the last ornaments on the tree and stood back to admire it, Winter looked at the man at her side. She needed to know more. “Tell me about your mother,” she said softly.

  Chris looked down at her, his eyes unreadable. “When I was a kid, we had hot chocolate after we finished decorating the tree on Christmas Eve. After we hung our stockings up, we'd sing Christmas carols until bedtime."

  Winter grinned. “I should warn you, I can't carry a tune."

  Chris grinned as he walked to the woodstove and pulled the kettle of boiling water off. “That's okay,” he said. “We don't have milk to make hot chocolate anyway. You can choose between tea and instant coffee."

  Winter raised her brows lightly. “Herbal Tea?"

  Chris frowned. “I've got tea or instant coffee,” he repeated.

  "Tea."

  Chris poured hot water into a mug and plunked a teabag into it. “Should probably start the generator for a few minutes so we can see the tree lit up."

  "Long enough for the water to heat up so I can take a shower?” Winter asked hopefully.

  Chris pondered for a moment. He nodded softly. “Well, it is Christmas Eve,” he conceded. “I think it's okay to splurge.” He grabbed his coat and shoved his feet into his boots. “It takes about half an hour for the water to heat up. One quick shower and then I'm shutting it off. I only have three cans of gas left for the generator and we don't know how long we'll be holed up here."

  "I know, I know,” Winter said eagerly. “We have to conserve as much as possible."

  "Right, we enjoy the lights on the tree for half an hour; you have a two minute shower and that's it."

  Winter smiled. She'd prefer a few minutes longer but she wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. “Right."

  Chapter 6

  With the fire raging in the hearth and the mini lights twinkling on the Christmas tree, Winter and Chris sat on the couch in silence. Winter took another sip from her cup of black tea and glanced at the man sitting less than a foot away from her. “I really am sorry about your mother,” she said softly.

  Chris let out a long breath and took a long drink from his mug of coffee. He looked at his watch and then back to the fire. “Another ten minutes and the water should be hot enough for a shower,” he said.

  Wint
er winced but felt the need to speak her piece. She pressed on. “I knew your mother was sick when she came to testify,” she said softly.

  She chanced a glance at Chris. He continued to stare into the fire, his green eyes blazed with intensity in the firelight. She saw his brows furrow; his jaw set in a firm line. Yet he didn't reply. Now was the time to tell him how sorry she was for everything.

  "I want you to know how sorry I am about your mother,” she said. “I only met her once but she so clearly loved you."

  Chris’ Adam's apple bobbed in his throat, his eyes narrowed.

  Winter pressed on. “I know your father left shortly after you were born and your mother raised you and your brothers on her own. I know it was a struggle for all of you."

  She chanced a look at him. No reaction. “I also want you to know I always doubted Linda's accusations that your mother started the problems between you—"

  That got his attention. He turned to look at her, his green eyes blazing in the firelight. “You doubted it?” he asked, his voice low and menacing. “Yet you had no problem raking her over the coals. Do you have any idea what you and Linda did to her?"

  Winter swallowed hard. “I did what I had to do to win the case,” she said. “At the time, I had no reason to believe your mother.” She hesitated before she added, “Nor you, for that matter."

  Chris shot up and walked toward the hearth. He kept his back to her as he spoke. “So what does that mean?” he asked. “Are you trying to apologize for what you did?"

  Winter grappled with his words. At the time, she'd done what she'd been hired to do. Was it a mistake? Yes. But did she have a reason to offer an apology when, at the time, she'd only done what she'd been hired to do?

  No! No! No!

  It was her misfortune to come upon Linda and the pool boy in the bathroom in the courthouse. If she'd left, she never would have known the truth, would have felt she'd found vindication for another woman who'd been shit on by her husband.

  How could she tell Chris now? After everything that had happened, how could she admit she'd been wrong?