gracefully with them, as if they, too, obeyed her every word.
“Any luck?” he asked when ogling her began to feel immature and obsessive.
“My phone's dead,” she hissed, tossing him a heated glare over her shoulder.
A heated but very alluring glare, he noted.
“Let me see,” he said, taking a step toward her and holding his hand out for the phone.
“You can't fix it,” she accused.
“I don't know, me and a team of three designers just configured a state-of-the-art phone that will take us into the next century. I think I can look at a BlackBerry and see what the problem is.”
With clenched teeth, she still hung tight to her cell phone. Until he reached over and, while one hand held hers with the phone in it, slowly peeled away one of her fingers at a time. He kept his gaze on hers the entire time because he sensed she liked to be in control, to keep what or who she deemed her enemy under close watch. When the phone was just sitting in the palm of her hand, Alex smiled and picked it up.
“I'm just going to look at the phone, Monica. Stop glaring at me like I'm going to ravage you.”
“I don't know why but you give the impression of being smarter than that,” she quipped.
Alex chuckled. This was more than a woman and more than a piece of work—she was one of those science fair projects that nobody signed up for because it looked too complicated and too hard to achieve any type of success.
Yes, she was definitely a challenge, and Alex loved a challenge.
Chapter 2
“It's dead,” he confirmed. “Did you get the battery wet?”
Monica sighed. Not only did she not want to be here in this winter-wonderland town, she didn't want to be here with him. Of all the men, in all the world, why Alex Bennett?
“I dropped it in the snow,” she admitted. “I can just use this phone.” Moving to the small table near the couch, she picked up the phone and put it to her ear. There was no dial tone so she pushed the on/off button once, twice, still no dial tone. “You've got to be kidding.” “What?” Alex asked from behind her. Very close behind her.
He always did that, invaded her space. No matter where she was when he was around he made it his business to be only two steps away. It was annoying in a way she didn't want to explore. What she wanted to do was get as far away from him as she possibly could.
“The phone's dead. What kind of shabby place is this that their phones don't even work? When I get back to New York I'm going to kill Karena.”
“I don't think the phone not working is any cause to kill your sister,” he said in that deep voice that she suspected soothed and caressed every woman he ever met. Every woman except her.
“Don't tell me how to handle my sister.”
“I wouldn't presume to tell you how to handle anyone, Monica.”
And she hated when he said her name, hated the tickle of excitement it produced along the nape of her neck.
“Maybe they just haven't switched on the service yet. I've only been here about an hour,” he said, putting a hand on her shoulder.
She put the phone down and stepped to the side, away from him and his all-too-knowing gaze. Another annoying thing he did was look at her that way. The way that said he knew exactly what she was thinking, how she was feeling. She hated it.
“Then I'll just get my things and head back to the main building. There has to be another room available since there seems to be some mix-up here.”
“You can take a breath, Monica. I'm not going to assault you.”
His tone held a bite to it that she'd heard before. Just as Alex Bennett always seemed to know what she was thinking, he also had a low tolerance for her. In fact, she wondered why he wasn't kicking her out the door. They obviously did not like each other.
“I didn't say you were going to assault me.”
“Right. You're just acting like you're stuck in a cabin with a career criminal.” He put the cell phone on the table. “Look, you just stay here. I'll go to the front desk and get another room.”
He was about to leave her there alone, she was sure of that, when there was a knock at the door. They both stood still looking at each other for a few seconds, then Alex went to answer the door.
Monica sighed.
What was she doing? Being rude like she normally did. Well, that really wasn't true, she wasn't rude to everyone. Just men. Nobody had to tell her that she gave men a hard time—she knew she did. Especially good-looking, successful men that could possibly have some interest in her, or in this case probably couldn't stand her. Why did she go out of her way to be mean? Because she was smart enough not to repeat past mistakes.
Alex Bennett was a handsome man, with his dark smoldering eyes and burnt-orange complexion. He was tall, with broad shoulders and a swagger that said money and prestige. He commanded respect from the moment he entered a room, and he made the most adverse female's mouth water. She didn't want to acknowledge how attractive he was, but then again, Monica prided herself on being intelligent and candid. She called a spade a spade and as such had to say that Alex Bennett was one delectable specimen.
That's why she wanted to get away from him. He was temptation personified, and that she definitely did not need. Besides, this was a business trip. Wondering why he was here or just what he would have looked like had that towel slipped off was not a part of the deal. Those were thoughts she did not have time for.
“I've got good news and bad news,” he said, startling her out of her thoughts.
She turned to face him. “What's going on?”
He had that half smile, half smirk that she never knew what to make of. Truth be told, she didn't know what to make of this good-looking businessman that could talk to her in an almost scornful tone one minute, then looked at her as if she were next in line on the dessert menu the next.
“That was the bellhop. He dropped off your bags,” he said, nodding toward the hallway where he'd left her luggage.
“And?”
“And you were right, the phones are out.”
She sighed.
“They're out because the storm that was forecasted to hit later tonight has already started. The winds have picked up substantially in the last hour, knocking out all power lines. It's probably done some damage to the nearest tower with a cell-phone signal, as well.”
“Wait a minute,” Monica said, holding up a hand as if that would stop the whirl of events as he was relaying them. “There's no phone and there's a storm coming.”
He moved to the bay window and pulled the string that opened the custom-made blinds. “The storm's not coming. It's here.”
Her heart sank like a seven-year-old's on Christmas who didn't see that Barbie town house she'd specifically requested. She stopped at the window, putting her hand up to the pane as if that would make the huge snowflakes blowing in the blustery wind any less real. “The storm's here.”
“And,” Alex said with exaggeration that drew her attention away from the true winter-wonderland display to rest solely on him.
“And what?”
He took a minute before answering, looking at her with those deep, dark eyes of his. “The resort's completely booked. We managed to get the last available cabin.”
Her throat felt tight, as if maybe she was having an allergic reaction to something. “We?” she managed to croak.
“You and I are both on their records as sharing this cabin for