Nope, if his own brother hadn’t been able to find contentment with the one woman who embodied the perfect wife, then Marc had little hope for himself.
“Well, buddy,” Ryan said, slapping him good-naturedly on the back and cutting into his thoughts. “I know finding your sister-in-law here puts a glitch in our personal plans, but we’re depending on you to pull this off.”
Marc lifted a brow at his friend. “After Jessica’s odd brand of humor, you don’t mind sharing the cabin?”
Ryan’s gaze drifted toward the loft. “No doubt I’ll be dodging a barrage of lawyer jokes, but I figure we’ll be spending more time on the slopes than here. And if I don’t find an enticing ski bunny to hook up with, I figure it’s a place to sleep. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve crashed on the floor.”
Marc glanced at Shane, who was currently flirting with Stacey as they knelt in front of the fireplace. It seemed the other man didn’t have any objections to the cramped quarters, either. “I’ll see what I can do.”
He headed into the kitchen and found Brooke standing across the small room, near the oak table with six matching chairs—a convenient number given the current occupants of the cabin. He doubted Brooke would appreciate him using that fact as part of his argument for letting them stay.
Their gazes met, held, melded.
She folded her arms over her chest and lifted her chin, showing him the more stubborn side to her personality. Her thick, shoulder-length hair swayed with the movement, prompting him to remember the feel of his fingers tangling in those rich, luxurious, honey-blond strands as he’d angled Brooke’s head for a deeper kiss. Wispy bangs touched her forehead and set off her expressive eyes, currently an intense shade of blue.
Despite her determined demeanor, her gaze revealed the wariness and caution she was really feeling. He knew those emotions were present because of the boundaries he’d unintentionally overstepped at his parents’ house that night of their anniversary party.
Unfortunately, the three months that had passed since he’d last seen Brooke had done nothing to diminish the deep, sensual craving he’d developed for her. He’d tried to tell himself that moment had been instigated out of flirtatious fun, but he now had to admit that the soft, warm feel of her lips under his had seduced him, had forced him to acknowledge that flawed part of him that had coveted his brother’s wife. Sweet, hot desire had gripped him, and he’d done the unthinkable and stolen a sample of what he knew would never be his—oneness, stability, eternity.
The discovery of what forever tasted like had shaken up every rule and restriction he lived by. He’d thought, he’d hoped, that time and distance would put their relationship back on track, as friends. He’d spent the past three months trying to get Brooke out of his mind, knowing she wasn’t his kind of woman, knowing he was the last kind of man she’d go for, especially after what she’d endured with his brother. Especially when his own past track record was less than sterling.
Their time apart had only intensified their awareness of one another.
“I’m sorry, Marc,” she said with an adamant shake of her head. “But having you and your friends here just isn’t going to work.”
He entered the room at a leisurely pace, closing the distance between them. “All of us have taken time off work until Tuesday, and there are no other lodgings available. I’m hoping we can come to some sort of compromise.”
“Eric needs to hire himself a competent secretary,” she muttered, more serious than joking. “We were here first, and this place isn’t big enough for six. My sister and I are sharing the loft, and Stacey is taking the only other room downstairs.”
“The sofa pulls out into a sleeper,” he countered, stopping a safe distance away from her—for both their sakes.
She smirked, the first hint of humor dancing in her eyes. “And you and your buddies will sleep on it together?”
He visibly winced. “Uh, no. Two of us can take the floor.”
“There’s only one bathroom.”
“That’s not important to the male species,” he said with a grin. “Besides, we’ll be up and gone before anyone wakes up in the morning.”
She released a sigh brimming with uncertainties, which he knew had to do with the subtle shift in their relationship. “Marc—”
He cut her off before she could issue an argument. “Look, Shane, Ryan and I came up here to hit the slopes, and for the most part, that’s where we’ll be. Or at the lodge. We just need a place to sleep at night. We’ll do our own thing, and you can do yours. If you or your friends need your own time, I’m certain we can find something to do to occupy our time. In fact, we were planning on grabbing dinner at the lodge. The place will be yours tonight until nine, at least.”
The determination in her gaze wavered, but then held strong, fueled by convictions only he understood. If it was anyone but him, he knew he wouldn’t be reduced to groveling.
“C’mon, Brooke,” he cajoled in his best persuasive tone. “I’ll talk Eric into giving you the next week that the cabin is free to make up for this fiasco.”
Before she could respond, Stacey entered the kitchen. Shane followed close behind, appearing well on his way to harmony with the raven-haired beauty in front of him.
“Well?” Stacey asked impatiently. “Has the head-mistress given her approval for you to stay?”
Three pairs of eyes stared at Brooke expectantly, and Marc watched her shoulders slump in defeat. “Fine, you can stay.” Her tone was hardly gracious. Neither was her gaze as she leveled a pointed looked at Marc. “But no extra guests allowed. You guys are on your own for any extracurricular activities.”
“Fair enough.” He stifled a grin at her militant attitude. “I promise, you won’t even know we’re here.”
BETWEEN THE HARD, carpeted floor, the chilled living room, and the erotic thoughts of the woman sleeping in the upstairs loft filtering through his mind, Marc couldn’t sleep worth a damn.
Rolling to his back, he stretched his stiff muscles and cursed Ryan for drawing the longest toothpick at the Quail Valley Lodge last night, thus giving his friend the pull-out sofa bed for the night. It had been the fairest way to claim the only mattress left in the cabin, but for him and Shane who were in sleeping bags on the floor, it was hell.
Sighing, he stacked his hands beneath his head and stared up at the high-vaulted ceiling. Gradually, the first shades of dawn crept through the curtainless window, throwing shadows along the wall. He heard a rustling sound from the loft’s bed, a sleepy sigh, and his gut tightened at the thought of Brooke lying in that bed, all warm and soft and sensual.
Just like she’d been when he’d kissed her. An eternity ago, it seemed, yet he could still remember every nuance of her body’s response as she’d melted against him, every silky glide of their tongues, the revealing and very sexy moan that had escaped her when he’d delved even deeper, wanting more of her.
The memory prompted a slow, aching throb through his body.
He’d convinced himself that the embrace had been a fluke, a flirtatious encounter that had accidentally escalated from the kind of platonic kiss they’d shared for three years, into a swift, indulgent seduction of senses. He’d convinced himself he’d only imagined the heat and incredible need that had flared between them. He’d believed it, until he’d seen her yesterday and experienced the urge to kiss her again, to see if what they’d shared had been as explosive as he remembered.