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CHAPTER TWO - Into The Storm

"Just what the bloody hell were you trying to do? Kill us both?" the ticked off man continued accusingly as he wiped the snow from his face and took another step closer to her.

The sudden move into Elizabeth's personal space, made her instinctively step back and she felt irritation flare up at his aggressive attitude. "Now, just a minute…" she began, ready to deliver a scathing retort, but he started speaking again, cutting off whatever she was going to say.

"You youngsters are all the flippin' same…not one lick of common sense within a hundred mile radius!"

Elizabeth stared at him in shock, his comments rendering her momentarily speechless. Just how old did he think she was for heaven's sake?! Despite appearances, she guessed he was around the thirty mark and she was twenty-four…hardly a massive difference.

"I mean, look at what you're wearing for Christ's sake," he said, waving a hand up and down in front of her to gesture her clothes. "Haven't you heard of a coat? You'll freeze in that ridiculous get-up and give the rescue services a nice cold present for their trouble when they waste their valuable resources on an idiot that didn't know when to stay at home."

Elizabeth was fuming. Her coat was still in the car, its padded bulkiness not conducive to driving. When she'd crashed, she'd automatically got out to check on the car. It was a natural thing to do. She was going to put it on before she got back in, but then he'd come along and distracted her. And as for her clothes…she glanced down and frowned slightly…they weren't that bad. Her jeans were soaking, but practical and her sweatshirt was warm and sensible. Okay, so it was borrowed from her sister after she'd run out of clean things and therefore was a little big for her, and yeah, it did have the dubious lettering, "If you're loaded, I'm single," written on the front in sparkly print, but still…

A muttered curse roused her from her self absorption and she looked up to see the man checking around her car and shaking his head.

"There's no way that's coming out without a pick-up," he told her curtly as he walked back over. His features hardened even further as he stared down at her and let out a heavy sigh. "I'm tempted to just leave you here to get a little taste of what happens when you ignore storm warnings but, I have a feeling that if I do tell you stay put, you'll probably just ignore that too and cause some other poor sod to crash." He gave another long-suffering sigh. "So, I suppose you'd better get your stuff and come with me."

The urge to tell him just where he could stick his offer rose in her throat almost immediately and she had to bite her tongue to keep from uttering a sound. Truth was, she didn't relish staying in her car overnight and the opportunity to avoid it was more compelling than her need to argue with the insufferable man in front of her. There would be plenty of time to tell him exactly what she thought of him once he dropped her off at the nearest town. As coldly as she could, she drew herself up to her full five foot three and announced that she would just get some things from her car.

His answer was a derisive snort and a muttering about women and their inability to go anywhere without make-up. Buffy bit back another retort, telling herself that she only had to put up with his company for a short time and then never see him again. Small price to pay for keeping warm and safe.

Turning away, she grabbed her coat and put it on, then retrieved the food and coffee and finally opened the trunk to retrieve the rug. Mentally ticking off that she'd got all the essentials, she then turned around and ploughed her way over to join him by his car, slightly miffed that he hadn't even bothered to offer his help. 'Some gentleman, he is,' she silently fumed as she took in his form leaning nonchalantly against the door, cigarette dangling from the fingers on his left hand.

Yuck! A smoker. Yet another reason to dislike the man.

With a quick flick of his wrist, the half-smoked cigarette flew through the air to land in the snow by her feet, the iced water extinguishing the lit end with a sizzle. As she looked back up at him, she saw him eye the items in her arms with a frown and shake his head, apparently finding more fault. "Typical student. Planning to sleep in the car, were you?"

"Look…" she began, determined to set him straight on that and few other things as well, but he once more disregarded her attempts to speak and introduced himself curtly.

"William Saunders," he said, gesturing to himself. "Friends call me, Spike."

"Mr. Saunders," Elizabeth acknowledged coldly, letting him know that she didn't consider him anything near a friend. Then, for the life of her, she didn't know why, she coolly added, "My name's Buffy."

Ignoring her pointed jibe by talking to him formally, his eyebrows then raised at hearing hers.

"It's a family name," she explained not untruthfully, then bristled in annoyance as she heard his mumbled, "It'd have to be," under his breath as he turned away and yanked open the door to his vehicle.

Turning back, he looked her up and down and then looked back at the height of the passenger door off the ground. The next thing she knew, his hands were on her waist and he was lifting her up. Surprise held her immobile as a riot of sensation hit her all at once. The feel of his hands on her body, the warmth of his breath grazing her cheek, the spicy aroma of whatever aftershave he was wearing, permeating the cold scent of the icy night. Then, as quick as the sensations had hit, they were over leaving her breathless as he dumped her unceremoniously on the seat and took her belongings from her unresisting hands.

Apparently unaware of her inner turmoil, William slammed her door shut, then walked around the front of the car and got into the driver's seat. "Where were you going?" he asked as he started up the engine. "To meet your boyfriend, no doubt. Well, if he's got any sense, he'd have stayed at home. Women." His last comment was uttered with such distaste that Elizabeth was left under no illusion that William Saunders had an extremely low opinion of her sex.

Deciding it was best just to try and ignore the man, Elizabeth glanced over her shoulder into the back and saw that there weren't any rear seats. Instead, there was a large backpack and a rolled up sleeping bag, along with her few possessions. Guessing he was probably into hiking or climbing, she turned back to look out of the front screen noting that the snow seemed to be falling heavier.

Secure in the knowledge that she'd soon be at the next town, she relaxed back into the seat and wondered at how she felt so comfortable with a stranger. Usually men intimidated her, but maybe his apparent aversion to females had encouraged her to let her guard down. She thought it was amusing that he believed she was so young, but found that she rather liked the false image…perhaps that's why she gave him her nickname instead. It somehow completed the whole surreal evening.

With a soft sigh, she felt her eyelids begin to droop and it wasn't long before the rhythmic sound of the wipers combined with the warmth generated from the heaters lulled her into a deep sleep.
Xxxxxxxxxx
William glanced over at the sleeping female next to him then turned his concentration back to the hazardous conditions he was negotiating with a disapproving frown. He knew he'd made a mistake leaving the Pennines later than he'd planned. It was just that with the appointment he had to attend the next day, he knew that it would be his last chance to do some hiking for a while and so he took advantage.

Of course, he was paying for it now by having to pick up that stupid female. He glanced over again. She was such a tiny little thing, so young and innocent looking…well, apart from that ridiculous top and its dubious invite.

Still, women were good at pretending to be something they weren't. His ex-fiancée, Drusilla, had shown him that when he'd found her in bed with another man three days before their wedding day. He'd thought she loved him. She'd certainly acted as if she had. Took him in completely. And when she'd begged and pleaded with him to take her back, he'd been so tempted, God help him…until he found out that she was only interested in his money.

He gave a derisive snort. Buffy's sweatshirt would have been put to better use being worn by Dru. At least it would give other poor unsuspecting sods a less than subtle warning. Not that many men would resist her, they couldn't. She was just too captivating.

His mother, God rest her, had said that twenty-two was far too young to tie himself down anyway and that gold-diggers were the price you had to pay for having money. Well, that was one cost he certainly didn't want to fork out for again, the whole experience had put him off relationships for good.

Oh, there had been women of course, especially at first, but never a committed relationship. No, he'd favoured the no strings attached kind of airhead bimbo's that would give him pleasure when he wanted it and disappear when he didn't. It wasn't a time he was particularly proud of and he'd soon found that his emotionally detached attitude to life was ultimately unfulfilling, not to mention incredibly boring.

So, for the past few years, there'd been no-one as he'd thrown himself whole-heartedly into his work. And he was happy with that.

Until now.

For some reason, the young woman, with the rather doubtful name of Buffy, who was sleeping so trustingly next to him, was uncomfortably reminding him that he was in fact a man and not a monk.

When he'd held her, his hands had fitted around her waist so easily making her seem so fragile. When he picked her up, the scent of vanilla had wafted over him, reaching out and tugging on his senses, enticing him to bring her closer. When her breath had caressed his cheek it had felt like pure silk against his skin and when he'd looked at her, he'd found himself drowning in the greenest eyes he'd ever seen.

Unable to stop himself, he looked over at her once again and briefly wondered if he'd actually imagined the colour. At that same moment, the road dipped suddenly for a few hundred yards onto a stretch of road that was exposed to the full force of the blizzard. He immediately turned his attention back to the road when he felt the car lurch, but it was too late…the vehicle was already ploughing into a seven foot drift of snow.

TBC IN CHAPTER THREE





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