If time heals all wounds, I’m going to need about a decade. Nothing, absolutely nothing, has gotten better in the two weeks since the fallout with James. I can only be thankful that my phone has been silent, but I realize that Rina might not know I had to leave, and I’m too broken up over what happened to call her. Which is just plain cowardice, but I’m not relishing the conversation I know we’ll have to have.

One thing is for certain: James Harrington was my first and last client. My high-end escort humiliation is over.

A call I won’t be able to avoid forever is to the rehab center to cancel Denny’s treatments. Riding high on the idea that I would have enough to cover it, I’d called and authorized the appointments for Denny’s physical therapy before I’d left for my assignment. In fact, he’s there now for an assessment, and when he rolled out the door and down the ramp to the waiting transport van the center sent for him, the grim determination and hope in his eyes stopped the words before they left my mouth. Since I’ve been home, I haven’t even thought of broaching the subject of the accident or his former…lover, I guess she was. Just one more conversation I can’t bring myself to have yet.

It’s a cruel irony that the only call I want to make is the only one I can’t: I have no number for Harrington’s Ridge, no line to James, even if I wished for it. He’s not the kind of guy you can find listed in the phone book. The compound in the clouds and the dreamland resort feel like just that: a dream I had once. Maybe this is how Cinderella felt when the slipper broke and her pumpkin was smashed to pieces in the road.

I’m trying to take advantage of having the house to myself and get three or four or five good cries in before he gets back. As I fumble into the bathroom for a tissue, I wish for my mother. She might not have known what to do, but she could always make me feel better. She nursed many of my broken hearts—would this one have been different? I realize, though, this story is maybe not something I would share, even with her. The world’s best mother might still be tested by the fact her sweet little girl got her heart broken playing hooker—and her son broke up a marriage. Maybe.

I’m a red-eyed mess. And maybe it’s thinking about my mother that finally gives me the strength to take a big deep breath and pick up the phone. I need to stop feeling sorry for myself and start thinking about Denny again. Mom would never forgive me if she knew I let him get his hopes up without even trying to help.

As I dial, I form a half-brave plan. It stings a little, but in that moment I remember James. James had known he needed to climb out of his self-imposed isolation and begin life again. I’m still a broken heap at the base of my own mountain of mess, but something has to give or I’ll collapse. If I call the rehab place and hear what the actual price tag will be, maybe I can begin to figure this mess out.

If the experience with James is going to teach me anything, it has to be this.

Amazing how when I call the rehab center it takes forever to connect to a human being, but the moment you select “billing,” they answer on the first ring. I spread all the details of Denny’s hospital history in front of me and ask to speak to someone about payment. The voice at the other end of the call is pleasant and dry when they request his case number, and then I hear a series of beeps. When the voice returns, the person at the other end is considerably warmer.

“Miss Ellis. Oh, lovely, well, I’m sure you’re calling to check that your payment has been finalized and applied to your account. I’m happy to share this is so!”

Payment? I haven’t made one.

“Hi, Miss, I’m sorry, but I should have been clearer. I’m calling for Denny Trace Ellis, not myself. There’s no balance for me; I haven’t attended physical therapy.”

The voice on the line laughs gently, but with a tone that implies I’m the slow one. “Yes, Miss Ellis, I know this is for your brother. Denny Trace Ellis’s account has been pre-paid in full…as of yesterday, it looks like. In fact, it looks like his entire balance in the hospital’s system has been paid off.”

For a moment I’m so confused that I pull the phone from my ear and check to see that I called the doctor’s office and not…I don’t know, the cable company; at the very least I know we’re paid up there. But there’s no mistake. This is the rehabilitation facility.

I’m afraid to put the phone back to my ear—if this is a mistake, I don’t know how to turn down the temptation of such a monumental error in our favor. I close my eyes and screw up my courage to do it, but then I hear the doorbell.

I tell the woman on the phone I’ll call right back, and walk toward the door, my heart pounding. Through the kitchen window, I see a man on our porch. When I realize who it is, my heart stops altogether.

This moment is a strange mirror of the first day I met him, after I watched him fly down the mountain. We stood staring at each other through the glass then. Now that devastatingly handsome face is peering in, framed through the screen door.

Shaking, look at him with wide-eyes, then open the inner door. We continue staring at each other through the screen, and up close, even though he’s still so handsome, I can see dark smudges under his eyes and the leanness of his lightly bearded cheeks. Like he hasn’t slept. For days.

“Can I come in, Darcy?” That familiar, deep bass voice sends chills over my skin. When I hear it, I know this moment is real.

I feel the my throat tighten, and I blink a few times to keep any more water from leaking out of my face. Guarded, I nod, and he steps back as I open the screen door for him, then step back as James’s massive frame fills up the kitchen in my parents’ house.

He closes the door behind him, then turns to me. And in a familiar gesture that hurts my heart, he sticks his hands in his pockets and just glowers for a bit. I’m not sure what the hell the Ice King is doing standing in my kitchen, but he’s taking up all the air in the room.

Neither of us moves for a minute. And then he lets a slow breath out.

“I was waiting at the rehabilitation facility just now. To see Denny.” My eyes must have widened, because he shakes his head. “I wasn’t there to confront him. Or, well…I was, but I knew he was in a wheelchair, that he’s been sick and recovering for a long time. I wasn’t there to make things worse. But I did ask him if we could talk.”

“Is he okay?”

“Yeah, he’s fine.”

“And he agreed to talk to you? He had an appointment. Denny needs—”

“Darcy, it’s all right. He’s still doing his assessment today. But when I told him I paid off his medical debts yesterday and pre-paid the entire course of his physical therapy and rehab treatment, he was inclined to have that talk. No strings attached, though. I think he knew we needed to have the conversation, man-to-man. To talk about what happened with Annette.”

My stomach tightens as he stares into the space between us. His fists come out of his pockets, and he leans against the counter, pursing his lips.

“Denny says he didn’t know she was married. He didn’t care enough to ask, either.” James’s voice is briefly bitter. Then he swallows and continues. “A one-night fling turned into a casual thing, that’s all. She did call him the night of the accident, on her way down the mountain. She asked to meet him at their usual place. It wasn’t their ‘usual night,’ though, so when Denny asked why, that’s when she let it slip about the blow-up with me. And while they’re on the phone, arguing and driving, she gets into her accident. It happened while she was on the phone with him, and so your brother heard the whole thing, and then he was so panicked, he wasn’t watching the road either. And that’s it. Two lovers, two accidents, same night, different places.”

James looks up at me. “Denny wasn’t terribly confused to have me show up at his rehab. But he looked about to have a fit when I told him about us. He didn’t know anything about you and me. I don’t think he was faking that surprise.”

I shake my head, no longer trying to stop the tears from rolling down my face. “Of course he didn’t! What was I going to tell my brother? That by some sick twist of fate, his sister was delivered to whore for the man he helped betray? I didn’t know how to begin to tell him, or to explain. I still don’t completely understand all of it.”

James and I both wince at my choice of language, but I’m speaking the truth. When I’m about to turn away, reach for more tissue, he crosses the space between us and pulls me up into his arms. I stand there in shock, too stunned to move or even reciprocate. He presses his forehead to my temple.

“You are not a whore. And I know you really didn’t have anything to do with any of this. I let my anger get the best of me. I was sure I’d been betrayed again, and it fucking killed me. And then when you left, I panicked because I did the same thing to you that I did to Annette. Sent her away in anger for hurting me, betraying me, and then she died.”

“Oh God, James, you can’t feel responsible for that! She did that on her own, she—”

He nods quickly, holding me tighter. “I know. But…I didn’t, for so long. And the moment I tried to climb out of the hole I dug myself, you walked in…just perfect, and earnest, and so sweet. Sexy. Everything I could have wanted, and everything I needed so goddamn badly. And thethe second I had a doubt about you, I had to throw you away, as fast and far away from me as possible. I didn’t want to feel this way again for anyone. Didn’t want to open myself to betrayal. But it’s too late. I need you, Darcy. I…I think I’m in love with you. I’m so fucking sorry.”

I don’t need to hear more. I push him away…but only long enough to lift my arms up and latch them around his neck. And when I can’t pull or squeeze any harder, I push my hands into his hair and pull his mouth down to mine. And when that’s not close enough, I try to climb him, jumping up into his arms and wrapping my legs tight around his hips, squeezing with everything I have. After a while I feel a deep rumble. James is laughing, but at least he’s not trying to do anything else silly like talk or breathe. He just kisses me back, and we make it to the table and then down to the floor, which affords a lot more leverage to get these ridiculous clothes off and get even closer.

A few hours later, James is trying to convince me to pack up and come back with him to Harrington’s Ridge.

“Wh-what if I’m comfortable right here?”

And by here, I mean lying back with my legs spread, watching and writhing as he holds me open and makes a very persuasive argument. His palms stroke the inside of my thighs, pressing me wider for his cock.

“There will be plenty of this there, too.”

I lie back and revel in the feel of this beautiful man offering to take me away. I don’t tell him I’ve secretly decided to follow my Ice King anywhere he wants me to go.

I know it’s sudden, but it doesn’t feel that way. It feels good and right to be with him. When he kisses me and wraps his arms around me, I feel safe and wanted. Yeah, it’s unorthodox, the way we met—but it’s also amazing. That we found each other. That something that could have been tawdry or unhappy turned into something magical.

“Are you sure you want me to?” I murmur, feeling shy. A tear slips down my cheek, and his face softens.

“Surer than I’ve ever been. I need you, Darcy.” He wipes the lone tear with his thumb, and then he pushes his hard cock into my heat.

I groan.

When I open my eyes, I find him smirking. He thumbs my nipples.

“I hope you missed this the way I did.”

“Yes,” I moan.

“I hope you want this really fucking bad.”

“Yes…” I lift my hips and lean my head back. “I need it.”

“You need to be fucked?” he goads.

“Fucked hard. I need a sexy mountain beast…to fuck me really hard.” I giggle and then gasp as his hard cock fills me completely. “James.” He dips down to kiss my forehead.

“Darcy.”

When we’re finished, and we’re wrapped up each other’s arms, he strokes his fingers through my hair. “Come home with me, Darcy. Bring all your things…and plan to stay.”

I smile, sleepy. “Okay. I’ll stay.”

“Forever?” I peek up to find his eyes surprisingly earnest. I stroke my fingers through his hair and kiss his shoulder.

“For as long as you want. Just call me the Ice Queen.”

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Do you want to read more? Keep reading for the first two parts of RED & WOLFE by Ella James!