Fateful by Cheri Schmidt

tried to take the mug, but was still jerking so hard she
couldn’t steady her hands enough to do so. Her teeth continued to
bang together loudly as she took in his expression. Ethan looked
deeply disturbed by the sight of her. He set the mug down on the
hearth and reached out to touch her coat. “It’s wet,” came his soft
voice, “you’ll never get warm in that.” With swift and precise
movements, he stripped her coat, gloves, scarf and hat off and laid
them next to the fire to dry.
    When his fingers reached for the sleeve of
her sweater, she nearly panicked, but after finding that her
clothes were mostly dry, he pulled away. Relieved that he didn’t
begin stripping her down in the crowded bar, her gaze measured his
face again. He didn’t look angry anymore, just rather worried and a
little ... scared?
    Ethan seated himself next to her, never
talking to her further, and certainly never looking directly at
her, he held the chocolate until she was steady enough to take it.
Without the wet coat on she warmed enough to finally hold it
without spilling it. She gratefully sipped at the drink. Its
decadent, smooth sweetness was like medicine, curing her insides of
the chill.
    Drawing the cup to her mouth for another sip,
she noticed Ethan checking to see if her things were dry yet. He
never allowed her to have any eye contact, even as she studied his
face, trying to figure out the mystery.
    As the fire and the hot chocolate warmed her,
and her trembling lessened, Danielle remembered Brianna. Her mind
had been so muddled by the gripping cold, she had forgotten her
cousin. She flashed a horrified look to Ethan. “Brianna! Ethan, she
was looking for me. She probably thinks I’m dead! We have to go
back! I need to call her.”
    Setting the mug down, she started fumbling
for her phone. When she found it, she opened it, but didn’t dial
Brianna’s number. “Ethan, what do I tell her?” she asked in a
hushed voice.
    His expression shifted, becoming intent and
calculating. “Tell her you went the wrong direction by mistake.
Tell her you were confused by the screaming coming from all
directions, and the fog, but that you’re okay.”
    Danielle exhaled in relief. “She just might
fall for that.”
    “She will if she knows about your lousy sense
of direction,” he announced lightheartedly with a smirk.
    “Gee, thanks, Ethan,” her voice
seething with sarcasm. “Just remember, I’m not the one who fled the scene,” she reminded
him, her tone cross. That wiped the smirk off his face.
    She dialed Brianna’s number and waited, then
snapped the phone shut and tossed it into her bag angrily. “She
didn’t answer.”
    “I’ll check the scene to make sure she’s gone
home, and I’ll return with my car.” Ethan then stood and turned to
leave, but paused, turning back to her. “Danielle?”
    She raised her eyebrows in reply, picking the
mug back up.
    “Do not leave this place.”
    Nodding in agreement, she sighed. She wanted
answers, but knew she’d have to wait for them.
    It took Ethan a lot less time to get back
than she thought it would. But then as she thought about how fast
he ran, she realized that maybe she shouldn’t be surprised at all.
Should she be freaking out right about now? What was going on with
this dream guy of hers? Seems she just found the elusive skeleton
in his closet. What was he? Could she still trust him?
    “They’ve cleared out the damaged cars and the
lamppost, and Brianna has gone home,” he whispered as he reached
out to help Danielle from the floor.
    Staring at his hand, she wondered for only a
moment if she should take it, if she should touch him. But for some
reason, and maybe it was because of the recognition between them,
she decided to trust him. Nodding, she took his hand then noticed
that it was warmer than before. Puzzling. He’d better start
explaining all of this very soon.
    His Jaguar was also warm, and a low male
voice whispered out a calming string of romantic lyrics