Home > Wedding His Takeover Target (Dynasties: The Jarrods #5)(7)

Wedding His Takeover Target (Dynasties: The Jarrods #5)(7)
Author: Emilie Rose

She paused at the first ventilation shaft, looked up into the dark hole and then down and stomped her foot. “I didn’t expect a wooden floor.”

“A solid surface makes rolling the ore cart out easier. The boards have held up well because it’s dry and cool in here. If you’ve toured larger mines then you know most have tracks, but this was a one-man operation for the most part, although my great-great-grandfather must have had help setting the supports.”

She eyed the square-set timbers warily. “How safe are the supports?”

He heard the apprehension in her voice and stopped, making her jerk to a halt just short of colliding with him. The small circle of light forced an intimacy between them. She stared up at him with dilated pupils and parted lips, and the need to kiss her again seized him. With the taste of her still fresh on his mind and mouth, it was difficult to remember to take it slow rather than act on his desires and risk scaring her.

He suppressed the hunger. “I spent countless hours in here as a kid and more as an experienced engineer. The mine is as safe as any mine can be. There are always risks when you’re underground.”

“There you go trying to scare me again.”

“Relax. Short of an earthquake—which is unlikely—you’re safe. I’ve been in here several times since returning home and checked to make sure there aren’t any unwelcome visitors hibernating.” He hadn’t intended that to be a cheap shot, but she startled and shuffled closer.

She scowled. “Cut it out. But I’m warning you, Gavin Jarrod, if there are any bears or fanged creatures, I’m pushing you into them and running for it while they feast on you.”

“Thanks for the heads-up.” Her feisty attitude would definitely make their relationship interesting. He led her toward the mine’s newest section. “Some mines have steep drops or winzes that go straight down. Our ancestors kept the tunnels relatively level, but there are plenty of drifts to explore.”

“Drifts?”

“Dead-end tunnels. The one where your grandfather left his mark is ahead on your right.” He lifted the lantern, illuminating a broad beam as they approached the turn. “The depth and shape of the second set of initials is different from the first. It doesn’t look like the same person carved the letters.”

She stepped closer, brushing against him in the narrow space. He caught a trace of her flowery scent over the earthy smell of the tunnel and his pulse quickened. She peeled off a glove and lifted her hand to trace the letters of the second trio. “CDC. Colleen Douglas Caldwell. You’re right. These are my grandmother’s initials. She always used to put a little heart like this one after her name.”

He had a crazy urge to coil a curl around his finger, but focused instead on why he’d brought her here. “The carvings and this section weren’t here when I left for college, and I don’t remember seeing them when I came home on school breaks. Your grandparents must have dug this sometime in the last six years.”

“My grandmother died five years ago.”

The pain in her voice sounded fresh. “You were close?”

Her fingers lingered, then her arm slowly lowered, as if she hated breaking the connection. “She was more of a mother to me during those summer months than mine was for the rest of the year—not that my mother was or is a bad parent. She’s just totally absorbed with her Arctic mammals.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.” He reached into his pocket and dug out his pocketknife then flicked open the blade. Sabrina stumbled back, fear flashing in her eyes. He’d never had a woman be afraid of him before, and he didn’t like it.

He offered her the butt of the knife. “Keep the family tradition alive and carve your initials into the beam.”

The wariness faded from her face, replaced by a vulnerability that jump-started his pulse and made him want to take her in his arms, but if he did that he was going to kiss her again—and reinforce her suspicions that he was using old tricks on her.

“Thank you. I’d like that.” She took the knife from him.

She tucked her tongue into the corner of her mouth as she worked. The gesture was damned adorable. And sexy. Then in the lantern light he caught the glistening of tears brimming in her eyes and rolling down her cheeks, and it hit him low and hard that Sabrina could be hurt by the marriage scheme.

But what choice did he have except to carry on? His family was counting on him.

She had to get rid of Gavin Jarrod, Sabrina decided as he shadowed her to the inn’s front door as the sun set. But more immediately, she had to avoid kissing him again.Guilt and fear intertwined inside her. For a moment up on the mountain she’d weakened and let herself be swept away by the strength of Gavin’s arms as he held her and the passion in his kiss as his lips plied hers. She’d taken pleasure in the leashed power of his muscle-packed form against her, the smell of him, the taste of him—all that manly stuff her life had been lacking lately—and her body had awakened with a rush of desire.

In that moment, she’d forgotten Russell.

She’d forgotten how much loving him had cost her, how much losing him had hurt and the vow she’d made while standing at his graveside to never open herself up to that kind of pain again.

Determined to keep her distance from Gavin, she stopped at the door, pivoted and offered her hand. “Thank you for lunch and for showing me the mine.”

Eyes narrowed, he studied her extended arm, then searched her face. “You’re welcome.”

His long, warm fingers closed around hers, but instead of shaking her hand and releasing her, he anchored her in place and bent his head. Her heart sputtered in panic. She ducked at the last second to dodge his kiss, and his lips settled on her temple. She tried to pull away, but he kept her tethered with his strong grip, then he feathered a string of soft branding caresses along her cheekbone. A shudder of awareness shimmied over her. She struggled to clear her head with gulps of chilly autumn air.

“Stop, Gavin,” she croaked and pushed against him with her free hand. How could she tell a man that he’d made her feel and she preferred being numb?

Without loosening his grip Gavin slowly straightened. “I’d like to take you out again—maybe to one of those restaurants you described—the ones with no prices on the menu and a long wine list.”

She blinked up at him. Was he teasing or serious? His direct gaze held no humor. It held something much more frightening—hunger. Alarm prickled through her followed by a chaser of heat that started at her core and radiated outward, making her skin hypersensitive.

“I really—today was—I’m sorry. No, thank you.” She couldn’t string sentences together when he looked at her like he wanted to devour her mouth…and then the rest of her.

“I don’t give up that easily, Sabrina. We have something worth exploring.”

Even though she’d failed in her mission to discover what Gavin really wanted from her grandfather she couldn’t risk another outing. Pops was a safer target. She’d work on prying the details out of him. “We don’t share anything more than a history of ancestors settling in the same town about the same time.”

One corner of his mouth lifted in a sexy half smile. “You love issuing challenges, don’t you?”

She wriggled her hand free and hugged her arms around her middle. “That wasn’t a challenge. I’m sure you’re a nice guy, but I just don’t have time for a social life right now. There’s too much to do before the season starts. Go play with one of your lodge bunnies.”

“I’m not interested in lodge guests. I’m interested in you.”

Her stomach flip-flopped at the intensity of his gaze and his low, gravelly tone. She shook her head. “Good-bye, Gavin.”

She fumbled behind her for the doorknob, but the door swung open before she could locate the brass orb.

“Don’t keep the man out in the cold, Sabrina. Invite him in,” her grandfather said.

Denial screamed through her. “Pops, Gavin has to g—”

“Thanks, Henry, I appreciate it.” Gavin overrode her objection and moved forward, forcing Sabrina to scramble out of his path. Now what?

The three of them stood in the foyer with an odd, expectant tension she didn’t understand stretching between them. Sabrina could feel Gavin’s and her grandfather’s gazes on her. She didn’t know what they were looking for and she couldn’t come up with an acceptable excuse to escape.

Gavin shifted his attention to Pops. “I’m trying to convince Sabrina to join me for dinner.”

Her grandfather nodded. “Good idea. I have a hankering for leftover pot roast, so there’s no need for her to cook tonight.”

“Pops,” Sabrina squeaked in protest. “I’ve explained to Gavin that I have too much to do getting ready for our guests.”

“Not if I hire that handyman you insisted on to help with your to-do list.” Pops looked at Gavin. “Know anybody who’s skilled with power tools and has a few hours to spare each day over the next three weeks?”

“As a matter of fact, I do. Me.”

“No,” Sabrina all but shouted on a wave of panic. “We’re going to hire someone local. Someone who needs the work.” She shot her grandfather a warning look—to which he seemed oblivious.

Gavin shrugged, splaying his big hands, palms up. “I need the work. Not financially, but because I’m going stir-crazy up at The Ridge with nothing to do. We already have a full staff. They don’t need me. I’ll donate whatever salary you intended to pay to the charity of your choice.”

“Well, ain’t that nice.” Pops sounded far too smug for Sabrina’s liking.

“I’d rather hire a local, Pops.”

Gavin smiled. “I am a local, Aspen born and bred.”

She gritted her teeth. “You know what I mean. There are unemployed people in town who actually need the income.”

Pops clapped Gavin on the shoulder. “Glad to have your help. And if you two aren’t going out tonight you can stay for dinner. By the time I finish going over Sabrina’s list with you, she should have something ready. She’s a pretty good cook. My Colleen taught her.”

Sabrina wanted to scream. The only thing she wanted to cook up for Gavin Jarrod was food poisoning. “I’m sure Gavin has better things to do.”

“My evening’s free,” the pig-headed rat replied with an innocent expression she didn’t buy for one second. “Henry, show me that list, and we’ll see what tools and supplies we’ll need. I can be at the builder’s supply store tomorrow morning as soon as they unlock their doors.”

“Sounds like a good plan,” her grandfather said before turning and heading for his study with a spring in his step Sabrina hadn’t seen in a while.

Having Gavin underfoot for three weeks sounded like a disaster to her, and the glint in his eyes as he smiled at her made it clear he knew he was irritating the daylights out of her—and was loving every second of it. He followed her grandfather. If she’d had her grandmother’s cast-iron skillet in hand, Sabrina would have hurled it at his head.

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