Snow Job Read online

  An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication

  www.ellorascave.com

  Snow Job

  ISBN 9781419919176

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

  Snow Job Copyright © 2008 Delphine Dryden

  Edited by Kelli Kwiatkowski.

  Cover art by Dar Albert.

  Electronic book Publication December 2008

  The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing.

  With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.

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  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

  Snow Job

  Delphine Dryden

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

  BART: San Francisco Bay Area Rapid Transit District

  Berkeley: The Regents of the University of California

  Giants: San Francisco Giants

  Junior League: Association of the Junior Leagues of America, Inc.

  Mary Poppins: Disney Enterprises, Inc.

  Tylenol: McNeil Laboratories, Inc.

  Chapter One

  “We will take you to court. You know that.”

  No greetings, no small talk. She charged in with guns blazing, just like the last time and every time before that.

  Karl just sat and watched as Elyce made her impassioned case. She hated him for that, for his unshakeable calm, his amused little smile, the way his shirt framed his broad shoulders in that distracting way. She knew the sleek haircut that tamed his tawny-gold curls back from his firm, even features probably cost more than her last tank of gas—and she hated him for that too.

  “Elyce. Nice to see you too,” he replied smoothly when she had lost enough momentum to pause for air. “Get you something? Coffee?”

  “No thank you.”

  He stood up, and up and up, all six foot three of him. Moving to the door with athletic grace, he closed it behind her after giving his secretary a nod of dismissal. Closing the two of them in together.

  “Now,” he said from directly behind her, making her jump in surprise, “why don’t we skip the preliminaries and just get to the real issue?”

  She felt frozen to the spot, barely able to speak as she felt his hands slide up her arms, trailing over the fabric of her jacket so lightly she could almost ignore it. But not quite.

  “The real issue? The real issue is your plan to develop along the Tahoe inlet. There are two species of threatened fairy shrimp that—”

  “Bullshit,” he said, but with a certain amount of humor. His grip tightened just above her elbows and he pulled her back against him decisively.

  Was it his size, she wondered with the tiny part of her brain that could still think, or was it something to do with pheromones? Karl did what no other man ever could—make her feel tiny, even with her lanky, five-foot-nine frame. Overpowered, submissive. Girly.

  And in bed…

  “I’m here to talk about the shrimp!” she insisted, wresting herself away from his hands and turning to face him with a glare that had sent lesser men running from her presence. Karl returned her gaze calmly, smug and self-assured.

  “Have you even read the proposal or are you just working off assumptions?”

  “I don’t need to read your proposal to know that turning a fragile ecosystem into a residential neighborhood is—”

  “It isn’t a plan for a residential neighborhood, actually.” His voice was casual, but his slate-blue gaze was hard. Something in his tone spoke of having reached a bottom line, of having limited patience for the current conversation. Karl stepped to the side of the room, pouring himself a drink from a crystal decanter at the lavish bar that dominated that wall. His motions were easy and sure, his tall frame favored with the lean, elegant muscularity of a jungle cat. Elyce had to pry her eyes off his butt, which was showcased magnificently but tastefully in his tailored trousers.

  “What do you want, Karl?”

  “What do you mean? You’re the one who barged into my office and started talking. Or did you think I had my company put together a big development deal someplace with a fragile ecosystem just in the hopes of luring you here to argue with me about it?”

  Elyce wouldn’t put it past him. “There’s no argument, Karl. You go forward with this and we sue. The next time I see you will be in a deposition.”

  He put his drink down and moved toward her as if to open the door. When he brushed past her, Elyce could swear she felt sparks fly between their bodies. “Fine then. Thanks for the friendly warning, Mrs. Nash. Sorry…I meant Ms. Anderson.”

  “What the hell do you want, Karl?”

  “You know what I want.” There was no humor this time, no softness. Only sex and steel, and Elyce felt the familiar thrill sprint down her spine, the old warmth pooling between her thighs. She hadn’t moved from where she stood and Karl hadn’t actually opened the door.

  “I have to go.”

  “Then go.” Still the door remained closed. And then he was behind her again, hands on her waist this time, tugging her off balance until her weight was supported by him from shoulder to hip. The fit was too familiar. She caught herself curving into his body and forced herself to straighten up.

  “You picked a sensitive area like this for your project, and you honestly expect me to believe you didn’t know I’d be breaking down the door?” She clenched her teeth, breathing through her nose. It was a mistake. She had wanted calm, and instead she was treated to the smell of Karl’s aftershave, subtle and warm and spicy.

  “I won’t say I didn’t expect that. But no, it wasn’t a deciding factor in the location. A fringe benefit maybe. Have you really not read the proposal? We have a preliminary impact statement.”

  Trust Karl, she thought, to make the phrase “preliminary impact statement” sound like a proposition. Or maybe, just maybe, that was only in her own mind. But his hands, cupping her elbows then sliding upward, were not only in her mind. His thumbs and forefingers gently encircled her upper arms. Big hands…long fingers that knew every inch of her.

  “Those shrimp—”

  “Make a rotten meal. Way too small. Nice and crunchy though.”

  She twisted away from him and sidestepped his grasp, making her way toward the door. “Visiting in person was a mistake. I felt I owed you a warning and now you’ve had it, so I’m leaving.”

  “Oh come on, Elyce, I was just—”

  “Goodbye, Karl.”

  The door closed between them with the expensive thud of solid wood and Elyce stalked out of the well-appointed reception area, only pausing to smile wanly and wave back at Karl’s secretary—before realizing the woman had just called her “Mrs. Nash” yet again.

  Anderson, she told herself, stepping into the gleaming, mahogan
y-paneled elevator. It’s Anderson. Or at least it would be again, soon.

  The lobby was empty except for a bored security guard, who barely glanced Elyce’s way as she crossed the marbled expanse between elevator and street door. Her unaccustomed high heels clattered too loudly on the polished surface, making her feel self-conscious. As she stepped out to the chilly street, a sudden shaft of winter sunlight caught the chrome plaque by the door, forcing her to squint and shield her eyes until a stopping bus blocked the beam. Once the glare was gone the name of the company was revealed, etched in tasteful black against the silver background.

  Nash & Booker Development, Ltd.

  Anderson.

  The sidewalk was already crowded with pedestrians making their way out to cars, to commuter vans, to wherever they needed to go in the evening. In the streets, the cars had started to inch out of parking garages, clogging the thoroughfares, honking and spewing angry fumes into the atmosphere. Rush hour in San Francisco—just like rush hour in any other big city but with more hills.

  It was a long walk to the garage where Elyce had parked her little hybrid car, and she eyed the bus in front of her for a moment. She was generally in favor of supporting public transportation whenever possible. In this instance, however, she thought the walk might do her some good. Frowning down at her feet, she dug into her overstuffed satchel and came up with a pair of flats. Once she had exchanged them for the uncomfortable heels, she sighed in immediate relief and lit out down the sidewalk with her mood already somewhat improved.

  * * * * *

  Their honeymoon had been nothing short of spectacular. Worn out from the exhausting three-year grind of law school and the bar exam, frazzled from the strenuous planning that had preceded their lavish society wedding, Elyce had basked in the warm twin glows of the Caribbean sunlight and Karl’s brilliant smile. As had so often been the case when they were dating, Karl had scoped out the location in advance. He had been to Belize before so he already knew the best beaches and which tourist traps to avoid. He knew where to find everything from a formal five-star meal right down to that ramshackle hut on the sand that only the locals knew about, where they served the best food in town. The waiters in both places fell over themselves to be helpful, because Karl just brought out that response in most people.

  Not that Karl’s planning or authority came as any surprise to Elyce. Really, it had been the same since the first time they met, when Karl was a third-year law student at Boalt Hall in Berkeley and Elyce was just finishing her first semester there. He had spotted her across the room one evening in the library, and immediately strode over and introduced himself with a charm that couldn’t help but win her over.

  She wasn’t alone in being won over, of course. Karl was universally popular, it seemed, able to mingle with any social group he cared to join. It was a type of interpersonal navigation Elyce felt she’d never truly mastered. But once Karl decided she was his, she no longer had to worry about steering her way through things. On their first date she had breezed into one of the finest restaurants in San Francisco, her hand tucked under Karl’s arm and secured by his own, claiming ownership. The maître d’ treated them like royalty, and consequently Elyce felt like a princess. With Karl, for the first time, she felt cool. It was a sensation she would happily grow accustomed to over the two and a half years that followed.

  What had surprised her, and kept surprising her throughout their courtship and marriage, was how connected she felt to Karl. He said he felt the same way, and she had cause to believe him at the time. Not just the things they had in common, like their passion for conservation or the movies they both loved, but the way they looked at things. Their worldview.

  In time, Elyce realized she felt cool with Karl because she was so comfortable with him. She felt, with him, that she had finally become herself and liked who she was. She had discovered a softer version of herself that only existed for him. Karl was hard, so she didn’t have to be, and just being around him was like relaxing into a warm bath. She didn’t just enjoy his company, she couldn’t fathom how she had lived so long without it.

  Karl seemed to assume, almost from the start, that they would be married after Elyce finished law school. She hardly remembered being introduced as his girlfriend, only as his fiancée, although they had been together a year before he proposed. It had been over a Christmas break, in front of the fireplace in his family’s rambling cabin near Breckenridge, the night before the rest of the Nash clan arrived for the holiday. They’d made love in front of the fire on the vast, woolly hearthrug, and in the morning Karl had been making her breakfast when his parents drove up. His mother Alice had burst into happy tears at the sight of the ring on Elyce’s finger, and at the evident joy on Karl’s and Elyce’s faces.

  Alice had cried again when Elyce told her about the separation, something she felt bound to do in person and not over the phone or through Karl. She had taken it even harder than Elyce’s own mother.

  Karl had decided to leave his law firm to take over as CEO of Nash & Booker when his father retired, and Alice had been unable to understand Elyce’s objection. “But it’s the family business,” she had said again and again. How could Elyce view as a betrayal something that the rest of the Nashes saw as Karl assuming his rightful place, being a good son? Alice couldn’t understand that although her daughter-in-law had always liked Karl’s family, she had always done so in spite of their industrialist leanings.

  Elyce recalled that conversation often, but this day in particular the memory was crisp in her mind following her confrontation with Karl. She drew to a halt on the Golden Gate Bridge, stuck in traffic that was already unbearable by four o’clock on a Friday. Looking out over the water, she tried to imagine the stretch of inlet up north along the shore of Lake Tahoe where Karl’s company was planning to develop…something.

  A pang of guilt struck her then. She knew she should have at least read the proposal before charging into Karl’s office. But the existence of the plan itself had enraged her, never mind the details. As little unspoiled shoreline as the lake had left, to think of building on it at all was unforgivable.

  Traffic inched forward, leaving Elyce too much time to think. It all crowded her mind, distracting her from the view she usually enjoyed so much. She couldn’t help but brood about the tension of the last eleven months, about her tiny house in the woods that still didn’t feel like home, about the way Karl’s hands still knew her shape so intimately.

  By the time she pulled to a stop at the end of the long gravel driveway in front of the little cabin at the edge of Muir Woods, it was nearly dark. The temperature had dropped to an unseasonable frostiness. Elyce had barely slotted the key in the front door when she heard the phone ring, and she ran inside to grab it before the machine picked up.

  “Andrew?”

  “I called your cell phone but it said ‘unavailable’.” He sounded peeved, as if the poor reception had been deliberate on her part. Elyce found it a little flattering that he was grumpy about missing the chance to talk to her.

  “Sorry, I know. I was stuck on the bridge in traffic. I never do get good reception there. I just walked through the door. I’ve been in the city all day.”

  “Did you see him?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “And is he going to stop the project?”

  “No, of course. It’s money.” Even as she said it, she felt strangely disloyal talking about Karl with Andrew that way. She knew Karl was about more than the bottom line. “Are we still on for tonight?”

  “Naturally. I’ll wine and dine you, and you can tell me all about your encounter with the enemy.”

  The enemy. Was that what Karl was now? Not just the ex, but the enemy? It sounded wrong, somehow. Elyce chuckled uneasily. “How about we don’t talk shop?”

  “Up to you,” Andrew agreed. “I’ll pick you up around seven, seven thirty?”

  “Sounds good. Where are we going?” She knew he wouldn’t tell her, he never did.

 
“You’ll find out. Dress casual though.”

  “Don’t I always?”

  She decided on jeans and suede boots, a warm garnet-colored turtleneck and a camel wool blazer she’d had, and adored, since her first year out of law school. The jacket’s color was just darker than the honey and caramel tones of her hair, and she had always liked the way the hues blended where the longest layers of her hair waved down around her shoulders.

  She was just debating whether to add an amusing striped knitted scarf in festive jewel tones when she heard the gravely crunch of Andrew’s tires on the driveway, followed shortly by his knock on her door. She threw the scarf around her neck and grabbed her bag, greeting him at the door with a smile and the highly polite kiss on the cheek they’d started venturing the past few weeks. Whether it would turn into more, she still hadn’t decided.

  Chapter Two

  Andrew had decided to make a quest of their dinners, an ongoing hunt for the finest seafood in Sausalito. Their “working meals” had gradually become more and more openly social and he had finally asked Elyce out on a Friday night, with no pretense that work had anything to do with it. Although it hadn’t gone far yet, Elyce felt excited about the prospect of seeing somebody new.

  They usually talked shop anyway. Andrew nearly always talked about the environment, about the cases he was working on for Climate Defense, the nonprofit environmental lobbying group he’d founded and which Elyce’s firm was currently representing. One of his favorite things to do was list the many evils of the corporate developers who threatened the fragile ecology of northern California with their money-grubbing schemes to pave it all over and reap the profits. Elyce admired his passion, though it made her feel slightly guilty. Lately she had tried to match it, bringing a new fervor to her work, but in her heart of hearts she found it a little exhausting.