“So,” Sage asked as he, too, got dressed, “what do you think of the cabin?”
She looked up at him and found his eyes unshuttered, filled with a warmth she hadn’t seen before. “I like it. Well, everything except the railing.” She grimaced. “I didn’t even thank you for saving me from that drop.”
“I think,” he said, “we pretty much thanked each other.”
How funny. He’d saved her but couldn’t accept her gratitude. As if by keeping an emotional distance, he could compartmentalize what had just happened between them. Which was enough to have Colleen drawing her romantic notions to a quick close.
“Actually, I’m feeling pretty fond of that railing myself,” he said, and stood up to tug on his jeans. “If it hadn’t snapped...”
She shivered at the thought, remembering the view of the steep drop. Of that moment of sheer terror when she’d thought she was going to fall. Of feeling Sage grab her, pull her in tight and then...
“Hey, Colleen,” he said softly. “You okay?”
“Oh, I’m better than okay,” she assured him and hoped he didn’t hear the tremor in her voice. She was so not okay. She was in turmoil. Because she had just realized that tumbling down a rocky ravine might have bruised and broken her body—but sex with Sage Lassiter just might break her heart.
Nine
He scowled a little. “You surprise me all the damn time.”
“That’s a bad thing?”
“I don’t know yet,” he said. He looked down at her as if trying to read her mind, see into her heart. And Colleen really hoped he couldn’t. Because right now, he’d see too much. Know too much.
Frowning slightly, he turned his head, glanced out the window and abruptly said, “We have to go. It’s snowing.”
“Snowing?”
“A spring snow is nothing new, you know that.” Sage turned to her and there was a grim expression on his face. “This high up, it’s even more likely to happen.”
Colleen looked, too, watching as huge white flakes drifted from a cloud-studded sky. An hour ago, it had been cold and clear. But weather in Wyoming was unpredictable at the best of times, as she already knew. When she and her mother had first moved here from California, the first thing they’d learned was, if you don’t like the weather, wait five minutes. These few flakes could wink out of existence in minutes—or they could be the herald of a heavy storm. There was just no way to tell.
In a few minutes, they were dressed and leaving the cabin behind. They walked to the car in silence, and on the way down the wickedly winding road, that silence stretched on. Colleen’s mind whirled with too many thoughts to sort through. Besides, the silence was deafening and she had to wonder if Sage was regretting what had happened. If he planned to just pretend it hadn’t happened at all. Maybe it would be better if she pretended the same thing. Heck, if her body wasn’t still alive with sensation, Colleen might have been able to believe it.
How could he shut down so completely? Moments ago, there had been heat and wonder and something...more between them. And now it was as if he’d already moved on. There was no closeness between them. No sense of extended intimacy.
There was only the softly falling snow.
And the quiet.
* * *
By the next morning, Sage had convinced himself that he had overreacted to what had happened the day before.
That long ride from the cabin back to his home ranch had been a tension-filled misery. He’d felt her waiting for him to say something, but what the hell could he say? He’d just thrown her down onto a dirty cabin floor and taken her so fast and so hard she’d probably have bruises. It had been damned humiliating to know how completely he’d lost control. To know that she’d taken him to the edge and then pushed him over. So what the hell could they possibly have talked about?
The storm had faded away soon after they returned to his ranch, leaving just a chill in the air and a few patchy spots of quickly melting snow. He’d needed some space. Some time to get his head together, so he’d ordered up an early dinner, showed Colleen to a room just down the hall from his and said good-night.
He’d seen the flash of surprise in her eyes when he walked away, but he’d had to. If he’d stayed another minute he’d have found a way to tip her back onto the guest-room bed and have her again. And he refused to lose control twice in the same damn day.