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  "Well, just look at the situation now. He came to Colorado for a few days of peace and quiet. He obviously wanted to be alone, but instead he found me here. Greg could have been angry at my presence and irritated that I continued to stay. Every once in a while I've seen a glimpse of him that's intriguing, but he doesn't give much away about himself."

  "I know."

  "And yet he seems close to you."

  "Because I broke through the barrier. I saw him when he had no defenses left against the world. I've watched as he rebuilt his life, set his goals and pursued them. I'm probably the closest friend he has. And yet we rarely see each other, except for an occasional visit here to ski or if I look him up in Missouri. We both keep heavy schedules, but we both know that we'd go to the wall for each other at any time."

  "I know that feeling. You got me through some really rough periods in my life, Tim, and I'll never forget it. As you can see, you're the first person I turned to when I didn't know what to do."

  He grinned. "I'm always glad to assist a damsel in distress, Mouse. The problem is that I'm not sure how we're going to deal with this situation. But I'll think of something."

  Brandi's thoughts returned to Greg, and she wondered if he would ever allow her to get any closer to him. Their kiss of the night before continued to haunt her. She had been given a glimpse of the man hidden away from most of the world, the man she found so intriguing, the man she wanted to get to know better, to coax into sharing himself with another person— with her.

  Chapter 5

  Brandi and Tim heard a thump outside and looked around. Greg came in, stamping his feet to make sure he didn't bring in any snow.

  Brandi felt her heart begin to race, and she forced herself to sit there quietly, watching him as he removed his outdoor clothes. The conversation she and Tim had been having seemed to ring in the room, and she was embarrassed at almost being caught discussing him, as though she had been spying.

  Hearing Tim's story made her want to cry for the pain that Greg had endured with a great deal of stoicism for most of his life. He'd been trained from an early age to believe that he didn't deserve to be loved. For Brandi, the man was almost too easy to love. The feelings she was developing toward him were almost frightening in their intensity.

  "Looks like you made it back none too soon." Tim observed, nodding toward the window.

  For the first time, Brandi noticed the heavy flurry of snow swirling outside.

  "I know," Greg said, pulling off his boots. He rubbed his hands together briskly. "I think I'm going to have a hot shower, then find something to eat."

  Tim stood and followed him into the other room. "Did you see anything interesting while you were out?" He glanced over his shoulder at Brandi, then back to Greg.

  Greg nodded his head. In a low voice he said, "I found where a four-wheel-drive vehicle had been parked up the road. Tracks led back this way."

  ''How many?"

  "Two."

  "I don't like the sound of that."

  "Neither do I. However, I don't think we'll have any more company if this weather keeps up. As soon as it clears, I think we should get her out of here."

  Brandi left the kitchen and joined them in the main room. "If you'd like, I could make you something to eat," she said, smiling at Greg.

  The two men looked at each other in silence. Then Greg nodded. "That sounds great, Brandi. Thanks." Greg found some clothes in his bag and disappeared into the bathroom.

  Tim began to pace. "I really should try to get back to Denver. There's no telling how long this might keep up."

  Brandi looked at him as though he'd lost his mind. "But you just got here. You said yourself you needed some rest."

  He ran his hand through his short, almost military-cut hair. "I know. But I'd like to get some queries started regarding the incident you witnessed."

  "Maybe you could phone."

  He thought about that for a moment. "Yeah, that might be the quickest way to go. Even so, I'll have to drive into town." He glanced at his watch. "That's what I'll do. I'll go into town, find a phone, then maybe get a room and wait this out. Are you going to feel comfortable staying up here with Greg until I can make it back up here?"

  She smiled. Comfortable wasn't exactly the word that came to mind when she thought of Greg. "I'll feel perfectly safe, if that's what you mean," she said.

  Tim studied her in silence for a few minutes. "What do you think of Greg?" he finally asked.

  "I don't think I've ever met anyone quite like him, although there are times when he reminds me of you— in some ways."

  Tim walked over and looked out at the falling snow. "That's not too surprising. We have several things in common."

  Brandi wandered over to the fireplace and stood watching the flickering flames. "Now that you've shared with me some of his background, I can better understand why he's the way he is. I don't think he's ever learned how to play. I find myself wanting to teach him how."

  Tim turned from the window. "Be careful, Mouse. I'd hate to see you hurt. Greg's had several years to erect a very sturdy wall between himself and the rest of the world."

  "A couple of times I felt a deep loneliness in him that I really didn't understand at the time. I wanted to hold him close and to assure him that he wasn't alone," she said softly, not looking at Tim. "At other times, I felt that I must have imagined it. He appears so confident and self-assured."

  "You're more perceptive than I gave you credit for, Mouse. Few people have seen the vulnerable side of him."

  "Maybe it's because I can identify with the feeling. I consider myself strongly independent, and yet there are definitely times when I'm tired of fighting all of my own battles."

  "Well, this is one time when you were right in looking for some assistance. It takes wisdom to realize that there's a certain strength in admitting when you need help. I'm glad you contacted me."

  She went over and put her arms around his waist. "Me too. And I'm doubly glad you came."

  Tim patted her awkwardly, then stepped back. "I'd better make tracks before it's too late to get off this mountain."

  "And I want to make Greg something to eat. He must be starved." Brandi followed Tim into the kitchen area and watched as he bundled up for the weather. "Please be careful."

  Tim grinned. "Always. I'll see you two as soon as I can, but I doubt that I'll brave the storm to get back up here today. Once I can get some inquiries going, I'll find a place to sleep and wait for some answers." He hugged her to him. "Take care. Tell Greg where I've gone."

  Brandi waved and watched through the window as Tim carefully navigated the driveway out to the main road. The blowing snow drew a swift curtain between them and she turned away, going to the refrigerator and removing items. She'd never realized how much fun it could be to cook for someone. It was almost as though she and Greg were playing house.

  Almost, but not quite, she reminded herself sternly.

  A few moments later, she heard the bathroom door open and caught the scent of Greg's after-shave lotion. She would never smell that particular scent again without being reminded of him. Without turning around, she quickly filled a bowl with soup and sliced the sandwiches she'd made.

  "Where's Tim?"

  Brandi placed the food on the table before she looked up. Greg looked as good as she'd feared he would, the dark blue of his sweater emphasizing the blondness of his hair.

  "He went to find a phone."

  "In this weather?" Greg walked over to the window. "He must be crazy. He'll never make it back up here."

  "I know. He said he'd find a place to stay in town and wait to get some answers to his inquiries." She didn't meet his eyes. "Sit down and eat while your soup is still hot."

  When he didn't move, she glanced up at him. He looked grim.

  "What's wrong?"

  Greg wasn't about to tell her the truth—that he had counted on Tim's presence in the small cabin to help him get through the next couple of days without making a complete fool
of himself.

  ''Nothing." He sat down and began to eat.

  Brandi filled another bowl with soup and sat down opposite him. She noticed that he winced when he moved his right arm.

  " What's wrong with your arm?"

  "I don't know. I must have pulled a muscle in my shoulder or something."

  "If you'd like, I could rub some cream on it after lunch."

  He nodded, trying not to react to the thought of having her hands moving over his body. What the hell was wrong with him, anyway?

  Brandi cleared the table and washed the dishes in record time, Greg decided later when she appeared in the living room while he tended the fire. She nodded matter-of-factly toward the rug and said, "Why don't you sit on the rug in front of the fire? You'll be warmer there without a shirt. I'll get the cream and be right back."

  He heard her moving items in the bathroom medicine cabinet and almost hoped she wouldn't find anything, even though he knew that he needed some relief. The shoulder was steadily stiffening on him.

  When she came back into the room, Brandi sat down on the sofa behind him and began to tug on his sweater. Reluctantly Greg helped her to remove the sweater, then his undershirt.

  "My hands are probably going to feel cold to you," she said apologetically, rubbing them briskly together, then putting some cream on her palm.

  Greg sat silently when she began to stroke his shoulder and down his arm. He forced himself to relax and tried to think of something else, anything but the fact that at the moment all he wanted to do was to turn and pull Brandi into his arms and kiss her senseless.

  Eventually the heat from the cream began to seep into his muscles and he began to relax, luxuriating in the feel of her small hands touching him. After several moments of silence she paused and said, "How does that feel?"

  "Much better," he answered gruffly, without looking at her. "Thanks." He reached for his shirt and sweater. He heard her move away from him.

  "Would you like some coffee?" she asked from the kitchen area.

  "Sounds good."

  "The storm doesn't seem to show any signs of stopping."

  He glanced out at the swirling white curtain on the other side of the glass and sighed. They were effectively marooned together, and Brandi didn't even appear to be bothered by that fact. She was treating him as though he were her brother.

  He heartily wished he could share that attitude with her. Unfortunately, there was no way Greg could stir up any familial feelings toward Brandi!

  When she brought the coffee in, Brandi sat down on the rug beside him. "Tell me more about what you do as a lawyer, Greg."

  He accepted the cup from her and smiled briefly at the eager expression on her face. "It's rather boring, I'm afraid."

  "I don't believe that. I'm sure you've had your share of interesting cases and intriguing trials.''

  He thought of an amusing incident that had happened a few weeks before and told her about it in precise and vivid detail, catching her off guard with his keen observational skills and his ability to capture and relate the incident with humor and compassion.

  Before he fully realized what was happening, Brandi was drawing him out, asking gently probing questions about his life-style, his work and his personal life.

  "You don't seem to have much time for anyone in your life with the schedule you keep, do you?" she finally asked after they had talked for several hours.

  "You're right about that. Penny had a narrow escape."

  "You still miss her, though, don't you?"

  "I don't think so, no. I think of her occasionally, though, and wonder how my life might have changed if I had gone ahead and married."

  "I think you're lonelier than you want to admit."

  He shrugged. "Perhaps. I don't waste much time thinking about it."

  "I'm surprised that you wanted to spend your leisure time alone. It seems to me that you would have preferred to go where there were people."

  He grinned. "I'd be lying if I said I'm sorry that you've been here to share the cabin with me."

  ''You don't know how pleased I am to hear you say that. I've been feeling really guilty about crashing your party."

  He lifted a cup. "Some party."

  She smiled at him. "Well, when Tim returns I'll get out of your hair by catching a ride home with him."

  "I could take you home when you're ready to go," he offered quietly.

  She looked at him in surprise. "Why would you want to do that, Greg? You wouldn't get much skiing in around my place this late in the season."

  "Because I want to get to know you better," he admitted, as though he were a little surprised at himself.

  Brandi could feel herself growing warm. "There's really not much to know."

  "Somehow I find that a little hard to believe, Brandi. For example, the field you've chosen to work in is most unusual. What made you decide to do marquetry?"

  "When I was at school I became fascinated with the beautiful work done in woods during the Italian Renaissance, in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. At that time marquetry was regarded as a worthy art, equal to the finest paintings and sculptures of the time."

  Brandi gazed into the fire as though searching for words to explain how she felt. "I was intrigued with the idea of pursuing this type of artistic expression. I wanted to see if I could help reclaim what was almost a lost art."

  "I wish I could see some of your work."

  She smiled. "I'll send you one of my more colorful boxes."

  "That's one of the things that always puzzled me. How do you get the different colors in the wood?"

  "Well, I buy wood in thin sheets. To get certain brilliant colors I dye the wood with a cloth dye by pressuring it in a pressure cooker. This causes the dye to penetrate the wood completely, which is necessary because I have to sand it."

  Greg enjoyed watching the way the firelight highlighted the delicate bone structure of her face. Brandi obviously loved what she did. Her animation while describing it was proof of that.

  "It must take a great deal of patience to work with the small pieces you'd need to form a picture," he commented.

  "I suppose, but I really enjoy it. And there are special tools that help make it easier." Brandi smiled at him, her eyes dancing. "It probably doesn't make sense to a busy lawyer why someone would devote hours to forming in wood the variegated colors found in a flower's petal."

  "On the contrary, I'm very much impressed. I noticed yesterday what a sharp eye you have for nature's beauty."

  "I've always been fascinated by the shape and color of flowers... and limbs... grasses and shrubs... a bird's wing..." She paused, shaking her head. "It's not very profound, I'm afraid." Brandi was uncomfortable talking about herself, and she searched for something to say that would effectively turn the subject away from her. Without thinking about Greg's possible reaction, she said, "I'm so glad I've had this chance to meet you, Greg. Tim's right. You're a very special person."

  His eyes narrowed slightly. "What sort of tales has Tim been spreading about me?"

  Brandi shook her head. "Nothing that you need to feel ashamed of, I'm sure."

  He frowned slightly, staring into the fire. "I should have known better than to leave him alone with you."

  "He says you're a very private man."

  Greg gave her comment some thought. "I suppose lam."

  "And yet you've been very open with me," she pointed out.

  "You have that effect on me. I don't understand it, nor can I explain it."

  "I'm glad, Greg," she said softly. Leaning toward him, she kissed him softly on the cheek.

  He turned and pulled her into his lap. Leaning back against the sofa, he looked down at her. "This is a dangerous situation, you know," he said slowly. "One of us needs to hang on to his sanity."

  She smiled and stroked his cheek. "What a sensible idea. Should we draw straws and see who wins?"

  He lowered his head slightly and touched his lips to hers. Raising his head a few inches, he a
sked, "And the winner hangs on to his sanity?"

  She touched her lips to his for a brief instant and said, "No. The loser." Her arms circled his neck and she sighed, her mouth settling once more against his.

  Brandi felt as though she had suffered through agonizing hours waiting to be kissed by Greg once again. She didn't understand the effect he had on her. She couldn't have begun to describe what was happening to her. All she knew was that she would be content to spend the rest of her life right where she was at this moment.

  Greg felt as though he'd been fighting against the inexorable pull Brandi had on him ever since he'd awakened to find her presence a part of his vacation package. With her response, Brandi had inadvertently broken through all the barricades and restraints he'd placed between them.

  A moan that was only barely audible registered Greg's capitulation to forces no longer in his control. The attraction he felt toward Brandi overrode every other consideration—of trust, of friendship, of the future. He knew that he would make love to her that night, regardless of what the morning would bring in the way of consequences.

  Brandi sensed the change in his kiss. She felt possessed ... claimed... branded—and never gave a thought to putting up a struggle. How could she, when this was what she wanted?

  Greg eased her down onto the plush rug in front of the flickering flames. Pulling away slightly, he eased her sweater over her head, then removed the turtle-neck shirt she wore for added warmth.

  Her soft skin glowed with a rosy tint from the warmth and color of the fire. Brandi smiled, never taking her eyes off of Greg's face, not even when he unfastened her bra and carefully pulled it from her shoulders.

  "I've never wanted to make love to anyone the way I want you," he whispered, planting tiny kisses at the base of her neck.

  Brandi's hands came up, and she ran her fingers through the silkiness of his hair. "I know the feeling," she admitted.

  "This is crazy," he muttered, unerringly finding the tip of her breast with his lips.

  His hands lightly stroked across her back and down her spine, pressing her closer to him. Brandi slid her hands beneath his sweater and luxuriated in the feel of the taut muscles in his shoulders and arms.