he sensed lying just beneath the surface.
“Yeah, pink. Cartoon-pig pink, to be exact. I have to confess, it does rouse comment.”
“I don’t wonder,” he muttered. “Your car is in such bad shape it took you a month to get here?”
“Pitiful, isn’t it? Though it wasn’t just the car.” She broke off and turned her head to study the flames crackling cheerfully in the hearth. “There were other considerations.”
Financial, he read between the lines. That explained the shoes and threadbare coat. “Worked your way across, did you?”
“It got me here,” she acknowledged.
“Here?”
She froze. Slowly her hands dropped to her lap and she snatched a quick, shallow breath. “To California,” she managed to say.
He didn’t know why he felt the need to press the issue, since it wasn’t any of his business. “To this part of California?”
“San Francisco, to be exact.”
She responded readily enough, which sat at odds with her tension. He’d half expected her to refuse to answer. People with secrets weren’t often this forth-coming, and his little elf was chock-full of secrets. There wasn’t a single doubt about that. “This isn’t the best route between Asheville and San Francisco. In fact, I’d say this was quite a way off the beaten path.”
She bowed her head. “It’s where my road led. I just followed.”
“Very cryptic.” Time to bring an end to this nonsense and get her off his mountain and on her way. “Why don’t I find out about arranging for a tow before the weather deteriorates any further. I assume you’ll also want to stay at a nearby motel while you’re car’s being repaired?”
Exhaustion exploded in her face again, along with a painful helplessness. “Yes, please.”
“Is something wrong?” he felt compelled to ask. His mouth tightened at the inadvertent question. Apparently the Salvatore code of behavior hadn’t been eradicated, even after thirty-five years of hard living. He still had trouble resisting a damsel in distress, despite having learned that women were rarely in true distress and frequently expected more than a simple assist. Maybe that was why he’d been so attracted to Rhonda. For all her flaws, she’d been as independent as they came. Still… He sighed, following the dictates his father, Dom, had done his damnedest to instill from the cradle. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
Her frantic gaze fastened on him, urged him to say something—do something. But what she expected of him, he couldn’t begin to guess. “Don’t you know?” she whispered.
Aw, hell. “I’m a man, sweetheart. You have to tell me what you want.” He offered a teasing grin. “Try simple, single-syllable words in short, concise sentences. That tends to work best with me.”
She hesitated, her desperation plain to see. Finally, she shook her head, her lashes dipping to conceal the flash of pain that burned in her expression. “No, thanks. The tow truck is enough for now.”
For now, huh? Why didn’t that surprise him? Without another word, he turned and crossed the room to his study. It only took a minute to place the call and secure a promise that the tow truck would pick up “Babe” within the next two hours. Alessandro checked outside. Taking note of the gathering gloom, he grimaced. It was only one in the afternoon and yet it already looked like sundown. If that truck didn’t make an appearance within the next thirty minutes, it wouldn’t be coming at all. Already the woman’s car was blanketed by a couple inches of brittle, icy snow, not a hint of pink showing through the glaze of white.
He glanced through the study door toward the living room. His guest hadn’t moved from her position in front of the fireplace. The reddish glow from the embers licked across her delicate profile, highlighting the small, straight nose, sweeping arch of her cheekbones and gently rounded chin. The paleness of her hair also reflected the firelight, changing the silvery color to a fiery rose. The short cap of silky strands feathered about her head in attractive disarray, making her look more elfin than ever. If it weren’t for the small frown drawing her brows together, the aura of Christmas-like enchantment would have been complete. At a guess, her thoughts weren’t pleasant ones.
He deliberately turned his back on her before he was tempted to try and take complete charge. Whatever problems plagued her weren’t any of his business. Checking the phone book, he placed the second call, determined to find her a place to stay for the night. Unfortunately, the two small motels in town were full, as was the ski lodge perched on the next mountain over. Apparently the promised storm had brought in the skiers and snowboarders from the coast. That didn’t leave him many options. If he couldn’t get his visitor’s car out of his driveway or find a place for her to wait out the storm, she wouldn’t be going anyplace anytime soon.
Damn. He rubbed the furrow creasing his forehead. This wasn’t how he’d planned to spend the next few days. He craved solitude. Time to think. Time to plan. Time to gather himself for action. Apparently the fates had conspired to make sure he didn’t get the time he needed.
Giving in to the inevitable, he crossed the room to join her. For some reason, she drew him, rousing protective instincts that had him crouching beside her in a solicitous manner. “Lou said he’d be here within the next couple hours to pick up your car. So, you might as well take off your coat and make yourself comfortable.”
He was close enough to see the rapid give-and-take of her breath and the slight flush that crept across her cheekbones. Was he responsible for that? Perhaps he made her nervous. It wouldn’t surprise him. As the tallest and broadest of all the Salvatore boys, he’d long been considered the most intimidating of the lot. And yet, if she found him intimidating, she’d have edged away.
Instead, she swayed closer, the softening of body and gaze betraying an underlying attraction. Was she even aware of her actions? It was as though she felt at ease with him, comfortable in his presence. He’d never had a woman react that way to him in such a short time. He found it had a powerful effect, one he neither anticipated nor wanted. A brief holiday affair wasn’t what he’d planned for the next week or so. There were other matters on his mind.
With an economy of motion, he helped her out of her coat and tossed it toward the couch. She wore a man’s plaid flannel shirt beneath, the cotton washed into baby-soft pliancy. It clung to her breasts and hips, looking more feminine than he thought it possible for flannel to look.
“So why are you up here all on your lonesome instead of sharin’ the holidays with your family?” she asked.
For a moment, he could only stare. How did she know about his family? “Come again?”
She jumped to her feet and plucked a photo from off the mantel, her movements filled with a vitality he suspected to be more characteristic than her earlier stillness. The picture was a recent one showing his beaming father surrounded by Alessandro, his five brothers, their various wives, his six-and-a-half-year-old niece and a healthy smattering of nephews. “This is your family, isn’t it?”
He relaxed slightly, nodding in acknowledgment. “Good guess.”
She stared at the photo with an acute longing almost painful to witness. “If I had a family this impressive, I’d rather spend Christmas with them, not all by my lonesome.”
“Who says I won’t be
