The Stranger Page 12

  I was ecstatic when we came across the three-mile cairn, because the tip of my nose felt numb to my fingers and the stitches on my side had turned into all-out stabs.

  “Turnaround time,” I announced, completely out of breath.

  “Wimp.” Without missing a stride, Seth turned from the track. “This way.”

  “You know I can get back to the house on my own, right?”

  “I’d rather you stick with me.” His breath condensed into little clouds as he jogged next to me. “Knowing you, you’d run into some kind of trouble and then we’d have a mess on our hands.”

  “What kind of trouble can I get into around here?” I puffed my frozen breaths. “A bear?”

  “A bear,” he said, “a broken leg, a moose, the guy who punctured your brakes.”

  “Slow down.” I gasped. “I told you that wasn’t about me.”

  “It doesn’t hurt to stay vigilant.” His nostrils flared. “Especially since we didn’t get any hits on facial recognition and we don’t know squat about his motives.”

  “I’m not afraid of that guy,” I said. “I’m not afraid of a moose either.”

  “You should be,” he said. “They’re the crankiest, meanest motherfuckers around. I’d take on a bear any day before I’d take on a moose.”

  “Really?” I said. “Hooves over teeth?”

  “That’s Alaska for you.”

  “House, door, safe.” I rasped, bending over my knees.

  “See you in a bit.” He launched down the trail as if he were a turbo-charged Ferrari.

  God almighty. He had commendable stamina, not to mention admirable glutes.

  I took a quick shower, got dressed in yoga pants and a sweater, and laid out all the fixings for breakfast. Seth was holding his end of the bargain and so was I. I had just finished putting the biscuits in the oven when Jeremy strolled in, carrying a load under his arm.

  “You’re in time for breakfast.” I added a setting to the table. “What’s all this?”

  “My biggest headache.” He unloaded a bunch of folders and blueprints on the kitchen counter. “I thought maybe Seth could help me sort through it. This is the problem.” He laid out a set of pictures before me.

  “What am I looking at?” The pictures showed a number of rusted trailers and dingy metal rooms with furniture bolted down to the floor. “Abandoned prisons of Alaska?”

  Jeremy laughed. “These are pictures from the only two hotels on the Dalton Highway.”

  “Hotel rooms?” I grimaced. “Someone would pay to stay in these?”

  “These other pictures are from some of our exploration camps,” Jeremy said. “This one shows housing units at one of the oil fields.”

  “Oh, my.” I studied the pictures. “This is an architectural calamity.”

  “Yeah,” Jeremy said. “My division has been commissioned to develop energy-efficient, sustainable, and environmentally friendly portable housing for research and exploration. It’d be nice if people enjoyed living in them as well, but that could be a reach.”

  “No kidding.”

  “The board wants to see a full proposal, but we’re running behind,” Jeremy said. “Our prototypes have failed to meet the standards.”

  “Hmm.” I examined the blueprints. “I see that you’ve developed a platform system to keep the units elevated, but those pylons aren’t going to cut it. Everything you put on the tundra melts and, if the tundra melts, then the platform will fail and the units will sink.”

  “Don’t I know it.” Jeremy braced his hands on the counter and shifted his gaze from the photos to me. “What would you do if you were in my shoes?”

  “I’d find some other pylons that had a prayer of working.”

  “What about the housing units themselves?”

  “I’d stick with the current specs for easy transport, but I’d make the units more livable. Small spaces can be efficient and comfortable.” I clicked on my laptop and pulled up the architectural drawings for the Darius micro apartments project. “Like these.”

  “Wow. Impressive.” A slow smile pulled on his lips. “I wonder...”

  “Oh, no,” I said. “No, no, no. I’m leaving, Jeremy. I’m not your girl.”

  He fluttered his spectacular eyelashes. “Seems to me, looking at these ultra-cool micro apartments, that you’re exactly the right girl for this project.”

  “Nope, no can do.”

  “You’d be doing me a huge favor, and Seth too, mind you, he can use all the help he can get...”

  I had no time for this, but even though Jeremy hadn’t brought it up, he and Seth had both gone out of their way to help me out, and if I could help Seth even a little bit with the heavy burdens he carried...

  The little twerp. “Are you trying to guilt me into doing this?”

  Jeremy grinned. “Is it working?”

  I groaned. “I know I’m going to regret this, but fine, okay, I can’t say no to you,” and especially, not to Seth. “I’ll take a look and by that I mean a look, nothing else. But don’t pin your hopes on me. I’m out of here as soon as I find my sister.”

  “Deal.” Jeremy enveloped me in a big hug. “Thanks, Summer.”

  The sound of a throat clearing startled both of us. From his perch by the door, Seth beamed his radioactive glower.

  “Good news,” Jeremy said. “Summer’s going to take a look at the lodging project.”

  “Awesome.” Seth’s voice lacked an ounce of enthusiasm. He whirled on his heel and stalked across the room, ripping off his knit cap along the way. A wave of steam rose from his head.

  “Breakfast will be ready in five,” I called after him, a tad too cheerfully.

  “Not hungry.” He made a straight line for the bedroom.

  I startled when he slammed the door. What had just happened? And why did I feel as if I’d done something wrong?

  “Damn.” Jeremy stuffed the photographs back in the folder. “He’s in a bad mood this morning. Maybe I should come back some other time.”

  I shrugged. “He was fine, earlier.”

  “He does that, sometimes, especially when he doesn’t get any sleep.”

  My stomach soured. “What do you mean?”

  Jeremy glanced at the pillows and blankets strewn over the couch. “He’s got sore spots, you know, from the helicopter crash? His mattress is high-tech, gel-based, specially designed to avoid pressure points. If he doesn’t sleep in it, he gets grumpy like an old man.”

  “Oh.” He hadn’t admitted to any of that when I brought it up last night, but now that Jeremy mentioned it, Seth’s bed was especially comfortable. I felt like the most selfish bitch on the planet. “I had no idea.”

  “You wouldn’t.” Jeremy rolled up his plans. “Nobody would. He doesn’t talk about it. Better to leave him alone when he gets into a mood. I’m going to go now.”

  “Why don’t you come back tonight?” I felt totally guilty and somehow responsible for fixing whatever it was I’d broken. “I’ll cook us a nice dinner and, if you leave those plans with me, I’ll take a look and maybe the three of us can brainstorm some ideas.”

  Jeremy beamed his dazzling smile at me. “Sounds great, Summer. Thanks.”

  I walked Jeremy to the door and saw him off. The guilt in me wouldn’t let off. I was trying to figure out what to do when my cell rang. “Hello?”

  “How long is this vacation of yours going to last?” my boss said on the other side of the line. “When the hell are you coming back?”

  “I’m sorry, Hector.” My stomach churned. “It’s just that I haven’t found Tammy.”

  “I need you here,” he said. “How much longer?”

  “Um...I’m not sure...things aren’t moving as fast as I want. Maybe a week?”

  “A week?” I could
hear the coronary he was having over the line. “An entire fucking week?”

  “Sorry?”

  “I need you here to work with the Darius people.”

  “I can deal with them from over here and they loved the changes I proposed yesterday.”

  “Yeah, sure,” Hector said. “They liked the changes so much they want the fourth and fifth floor redesigned as well.”

  Oh, man.

  “I can do that,” I said, maneuvering the biscuits out of the oven one-handedly. “I promise, I’ll take care of everything.”

  I wasn’t sure I’d succeeded at appeasing Hector by the time I got off the phone, but hopefully, I’d bought myself some time. I called my assistant and gave him instructions on the materials for the redesign. By the time I hung up, the uneasiness in my gut had coalesced into a brick of worry.

  I made my way to the bedroom. I knocked, but nobody answered. I let myself in. The door to the bathroom was open. Seth stood facing the mirror above the vanity. He looked as if he’d just stepped out of the shower, wearing only a towel around his waist as he smeared lotion on his scars’ mottled skin. He didn’t see me at first, so I had a moment to admire his body’s proportionate build, his shoulders’ strength and the narrowing path of his torso as it tapered to his hips. Then his eyes found me in the mirror and pierced through me like a pair of high-caliber bullets.

  Yikes. I pretended I wore a Kevlar vest and squared my shoulders. “May I come in?”

  “Not now.” He whirled on his heels, stepped up, and tried to close the door on me.

  “Please?” I caught the door. “Let me in?”

  His fingers grappled with the door. “Can you at least wait until I get dressed?”

  I stuck to my guns. “I’d like to talk to you now, if you don’t mind.”

  “Fine.” He let go of the door and padded over to the mirror, where he squeezed some lotion on his hand and twisted his arm at an awkward angle, trying to reach the scars on the middle of his back.

  “That’s a hard way to moisturize.” I walked into the bathroom. “Why don’t I do it?”

  He refused to look at me. “I’m good.”

  “But—”

  He snapped. “I said I’m good.”

  I flinched and I could tell by the look in his face that he regretted his reaction right away.

  “Damn.” He wiped his hand on the towel. “I didn’t mean to yell at you.”

  “I get it,” I said. “I can be a hothead sometimes.”

  “Yeah,” he mumbled. “It happens.”

  I counted the brief exchange as apologies all around and put out my hand. “May I?”

  With a resigned sigh, he handed me the bottle.

  I squeezed a blob of cream on my palm. The smell of oats and shea butter wafted from the lotion, along with a clean, slightly medicinal note, the wholesome scents I associated with Seth. I moved to spread the cream on his back. He flinched when I touched him. His already stiff shoulders turned into a pair of iron lumps beneath my hands.

  “Is this okay?” I spread the lotion over the crimson blotches that splattered the left side of his back like a bunch of wine stains.

  He nodded but didn’t meet my stare.

  “Your skin is so cold.” I reeled from the shock. “Did you shower with freezing water?”

  “I like a cold shower.”

  He meant a glacial shower. He felt like an ice sculpture to my touch. I rubbed in the lotion, determined to bring some warmth to his body, working the cream into the long scar that snaked beneath his right shoulder, where the healed skin furrowed into a red, leathery surface.

  I ached at the sight of the scars and yet I didn’t feel repulsed by them. On the contrary. The scars reminded me of how strong Seth was, of his astounding capacity to heal. Beyond that, touching him activated the heat in me.

  Sure, I’d seen him without his clothes once before, an image that powered my dreams last night. But this was different. I loved the way his body flowed under my touch, strong, vital, and handsome. Unpretentious layers of muscle rippled beneath my fingers, enticing my hands to further exploration. I traced the lines that formed quilt-like patterns of skin grafted onto his back. The healthy parts of his skin prickled with tiny bumps. My skin echoed the rippling, especially when I recalled that, beneath the towel, he was naked.

  Shivers fringed my spine, tightened my sex, and moistened the space between my legs. I inhaled the scent that radiated from him, hot and male to the core, the intimate essence that had enveloped me all night as I slept on his bed. My body indulged in the memories my mind refused to acknowledge and I had a vision of me, entwined in his arms and clinging to him like an ivy.

  I pressed my legs together and clenched until my teeth hurt. I was breaking my own rules again. When had I become such a wanton mess? If I had any sense, I should follow in Seth’s footsteps and take a cold shower. But I’d trailed him to the bathroom for a good reason and nothing, not even a sudden lust attack, would prevent me from setting things right.

  “Your brother’s a good guy.” I worked the lotion over his scars. “He’s very smart.”

  “They don’t graduate dummies at Caltech.”

  “I can tell he loves and admires you,” I said. “He wanted your opinion on something today.”

  “Is there a point to this conversation?” Seth queried me with a frown. “If there is, just make it and move on. I’ll be fine. You don’t need to tiptoe around me.”

  God, he could be such a grouch sometimes! Oblivious too, for such a smart man. He had no idea of the effect he had on me and he didn’t recognize the difference between wholesome admiration and desire. But I knew he and his brother were close. From watching them together, I could sense that Jeremy was one of the few people that tethered Seth to his world. I was afraid that by acknowledging one thing, I might end up admitting to something else, but I took a deep breath and called on my courage.

  “I like Jeremy a lot,” I said, “but not in that way.”

  The breath went out of Seth. I didn’t know what else to say. Sometimes bluntness required bluntness. I worked the lotion into his skin, making sure that I covered the spot in the center of his back, where a patch of cracked skin oozed like a tiny volcano. He stood rigid as a beam, head down and eyes lidded, clutching the granite countertop.

  “Am I hurting you?” I asked.

  “No.”

  “Should I stop?”

  “Keep going.”

  “You’ve got a troublesome spot here.” I lingered around the lesion. “Does it hurt?”

  “It’s a stubborn SOB,” he said. “It refuses to heal right.”

  “Maybe you should go to the doctor?”

  “The doctor knows,” he said. “He wants to do another graft.”

  “And?”

  “I don’t have time for a hospital stay right now.”

  “Perhaps you ought to make time,” I said. “In the meanwhile, could we try something else?”

  His head snapped up. “We?”

  “Um...err...” I stammered like a total idiot. “I don’t mind helping out while I’m around.”

  His eyes raked over me briefly then looked away. “The doctor gave me a medicated silicone patch for it, but I can’t reach back there.”

  “Why don’t I put it on?”

  He hesitated. “Are you sure?”

  I smirked. “Are you afraid I’m going to put it on upside down?”

  He cracked a smile, but still, he wavered before he opened a drawer. It was crammed full of medicine bottles and ointments. I was shocked. Seth never let on that he was in pain or that he suffered chronic discomfort, never spoke about his injuries or complained. Fully dressed, he looked like the healthiest man in Alaska, and yet by the look of that drawer, he’d had to fight a steep uphill battle t
o get here.

  He picked up a sterile pack and handed it to me. “I’m not sick anymore.”

  “I know.”

  He didn’t want to be treated like a patient. He didn’t want my pity either. I broke open the package, peeled off the sticker from the bottom of the patch, and pressed it over the lesion.

  “I burned my arm once,” I said, “taking a Pyrex out of the oven. It took weeks to heal. I screamed every time the doctor had to do that thing where they scrape off the burn.”

  His entire body shivered. “It’s called debriding.”

  “It should be called excruciating instead.” I checked to make sure the patch had adhered and then let go. “It hurt like hell. And afterward, when I healed, my skin itched like crazy. Do you hurt? Does your skin burn sometimes?”

  He shrugged.

  “It won’t kill you to admit to the truth.”

  “I’ve got patches on my back that are totally numb.” He paused. “The dryness and irritation drives me crazy. Sometimes I feel like I’m burning.”

  The silence that followed frightened me. I kept applying the lotion, but my stomach lurched like a jet ski on rough water.

  “Seth?” I said. “Look at me, please. What did I do wrong? Am I doing something wrong right now?”

  His head came up slowly. His eyes made contact with mine in the mirror. What I saw shocked me. Pain, profound and raw, gleamed in his stare. This brilliant man who came across proud and indomitable, ached, inside and out. He was also somehow ashamed, self-conscious and uncomfortable under my touch, and he didn’t know how to deal with any of it.

  “You haven’t done anything wrong,” he finally said. “Sorry if I was short with you. These days, I have trouble with change and...”

  “And what?”

  “I guess I’m not used to anybody touching me, that’s all.”

  My heart stuttered and a flare of heat flushed through my body. The look on his face said it all. He hadn’t allowed anyone else to touch him since he’d been hurt. It was hard for him, but he was allowing me to touch him now. Me and only me.

  The joy. It took me completely by surprise. I soared like an eagle in the sky. Why was his trust so moving to me?