The smile fell off her face. Hesitantly then, she reached blindly to pat at her own head. Her eyes widened in shock, and then she laughed again. “Oh my gosh,” she said, laughing some more. “I think I could make a snowball out of all this.” She tipped her head to the side and began to shake it off. “Oh,” she said suddenly, “should I be doing this outside?”
The look she turned on him took Easton by surprise. In truth, he was still stuck on the unexpected way she’d reacted to her messed up hair. In his experience, women from LA who dressed like her and talked like her…well, they didn’t like getting their hair wet.
“What was that?” he had to say. In truth, after a wordless, white-knuckle drive home, and an also wordless venture from the Jeep to the hut, Easton wasn’t sure what to expect.
“I probably shouldn’t be letting all of this snow drop onto the floor in here,” she said, trying to cup her hands to prevent the rest from falling.
Easton shook his head, surprised again that she’d even taken that into consideration. “No, it’s all right. This floor covering is a blend of bamboo and polyester. It will dry quickly once I get a fire going.”
“A fire?” She straightened up. “We don’t have time for a fire. I’ve got to get your interview done so we can hurry back to the airport.”
Now it was his turn to laugh. “Sorry, but that’s not going to happen.”
Ivy’s jaw clenched shut. Her nostrils flared the slightest bit.
This was more what he expected.
“You don’t understand,” she said, tone more pleading than severe. “My promotion at the station depends on delivering these interviews on time. And second, it’s my family’s big Christmas Eve party tomorrow. I’ve never once missed that.”
“Until this year,” he assured her.
She studied him for a beat, allowing Easton to do the same with her. Most of the snow had fallen from her head, exposing the strands of her silky blonde hair, a nice compliment to her rather fair complexion.
Suddenly a soft, unexpected smile pulled at one side of her lips. “I’m probably coming across rude,” she said. “I’m not trying to. So let’s see if we can start over.” She took a few deep breaths—the sort the staff therapists called calming breaths—and leveled a look at him. “My job is the most important thing to me right now. Most important, that is, next to my family…”
He nodded, then absently shot a glance at her left-hand ring finger. No ring.
“So when I booked these back-to-back flights to conquer all five interviews before Christmas, I did so because it will help me get the promotion. But I would never have done it, if I hadn’t known I’d make it back in time to celebrate the holiday with my family, you know?”
Her voice had lost some of its steam. Her shoulders were starting to deflate. And her dark lashes glistened with moisture. The sight pulled at Easton’s heart in ways he didn’t want to think about.
“Yes, I…get that. That makes sense.”
She let out a shaky breath. “Good. So all we need to do is get your interview done. I can shoot this one on my phone, the producer will totally understand, and then I need to get back to the SUV so I can hurry and get to the airport.”
Was she insane? “I hate to be the one to break this to you, especially because it seems pretty freaking obvious, but there is no way you’re making it back in time for your little party. So I suggest you make yourself comfortable, let me get a fire going, and—”
“I’m not staying the night with you,” she blurted.
Easton winced. He deserved that remark after his little warning over the phone last week. “Fine,” he said. “You can stay in your own yurt. Or you can sleep out in the snow with the wolves for all I care.” He pointed toward the road they’d just come from. “What you can’t do is get back in a vehicle and try to drive in that storm.”
She had no idea how close to death they might have been had Easton not known that road with all of its narrow turns and steep cliffs. “Trust me when I say it’s a very good thing you hadn’t gotten any further than you did. You’d have hurled that SUV right off the cliff in the miles ahead.”
Ivy turned away from him, still hugging herself against the chill. Her teeth were chattering, and her body shivered so much it made her breath hitch. Too bad he’d extinguished the fire in the last yurt to inspect the next. But this had been the plan all along. Spend a night in each to ensure they were all up to standard operation. No leaks, drafts, or dangers. A clear shield covered the yurt’s rectangular skylight overhead, sending a uniquely white glow of light to the space.
It must be what made her skin glow as if she were some sort of angel. More like a devil in disguise, he mused. What else could he call a woman who seemed hell bent on putting his life at risk?
“It’s just that…” she sputtered. “My family…it’s not…” She shook her head and let the sentence drift off.
Was it just him or did she seem to be disoriented? His heart skipped out of beat. Perhaps she was nearing stages of hypothermia. “Please,” he said, “take a seat and let me get a fire started. We can talk more once you get warmed up.”
Ivy nodded, jutted a look over her shoulder, and then shuffled her way toward the bench against the wall. At last, she plopped onto the wooden surface.
A massive, and rather inexplicable, wave of relief pooled over him as he watched her settle into place. There. Now he could make sure she was safe.
A sheepskin wrap hung on the hook at her side. A much larger bearskin rug hung beside it. Easton walked toward her, reached for the smaller of the two, figuring the bearskin would be too heavy for her to hold over her shoulders, and quickly wrapped it against his back.
Ivy glanced up at him, curious at first, but then her eyes narrowed into a sharp glare. “How chivalrous,” she spat.
Easton rolled his eyes. “I’m warming it up for you,” he assured her.
Her face softened then, and she shrugged with one shoulder. “Oh. You think you’re so much hotter than me, do you?” She must have realized how that sounded because a laugh snuck up her throat.
Easton couldn’t help but chuckle at the remark as well. “I’m definitely not hotter than you, Ivy,” he assured. “But I am warmer than you.” He wasn’t sure how he’d meant the comment to come off. Was his objective to act like a jerk unnecessary now? She’d made it sound like the interview was due that night. And as much as he could send and receive texts, especially when he got closer to the office, there’d be no possible way for her to send large files from their current location.
Besides, he was used to caring for and protecting his little sister. He’d done it his whole life. No harm in treating his female company with some old fashioned hospitality. With that, Easton tipped his chin down, allowing the top edge of the sheepskin to come in contact with the bare skin along the back of his neck. Satisfied that he’d heated it up enough for her, he closed the gap between them with slow and cautious steps. He was basically a stranger to her, after all.
Her tiny shoes, a flimsy excuse for boots, disappeared beneath the bench as he neared.
He grinned. “Here,” he mumbled, “this should be nice and warm for you.” He quickly moved it from his back and onto hers, encouraging her to lift her hair off the back of her neck to get the full warmth against her skin. Instinctively, he rubbed his hands down the outside of it, over her shoulders and down her arms.