Snowed in with the Enemy

Borrowed Warmth

❄ Camille ❄

The candles had burned low, and the lounge still felt like a freezer. Wind scraped against the windows, and the building shuddered now and then, like it was testing its own strength. I lay on the couch with a blanket under me and two on top, but the cold kept slipping in. It climbed under my collar, settled in my ribs, and turned my fingers stiff. I tried to stop my teeth from chattering. I tried to breathe quietly. Nothing helped.

It was just too cold.

Sebastian lay on the other side of the couch like a dark shape under his blankets. He hadn’t spoken much since that heavy thud earlier. He had checked the front windows with his phone light, muttered something about the snow shifting, and returned to the lounge with the same controlled tension he wore at work. My phone rested beside me, screen down to save battery. I hated that I couldn’t send one message to Lucinda. Or more importantly, I hated that we couldn’t call for help.

“Camille,” Sebastian snapped, his voice rough. I glanced over at him and sighed softly.

“What?”

“Your teeth,” he muttered. “Stop. You are keeping me awake,” a laugh almost escaped me. It wasn’t as if I wanted to be awake. I wanted to sleep. I was exhausted.

“I’m...trying,” I breathed softly as I turned slightly and gazed up at the ceiling while my body trembled. Sebastian had been right earlier. About body heat. I hated him for being right. Needing people always felt like such a trap, and needing him was worse. I closed my eyes and thought about Lucinda, my younger sister. After our parents died, she had looked up to me. Like I was the only solid thing in her life. I had kept her safe by controlling everything I could. All the details. The schedules. Money. Work. It wasn’t a glamorous lifestyle, but it kept us standing. Sebastian made control look effortless. That was part of what infuriated me.

The memory of my first day slammed into me with the cold.

I had walked in determined to prove myself as head of bookings. Then the system failed. Screens froze. Clients raged. Staff panicked. I was still trying to figure out who handled what when Sebastian arrived. My first thought had been how sexy he was. Absolutely gorgeous, but then his eyes had narrowed, and he had decided I was incompetent and couldn’t do my job. The way he had called me out in front of everyone without even batting an eye. Of course, I had tried to explain the situation, but he had cut me off like my explanation meant nothing. I remembered the humiliation. The rage. Something had snapped in me that day. I didn’t apologize. I didn’t back down. I made him listen as I explained, once again, what the issue was. I made him listen.

Sebastian hated that I stood up to him.

Even now. My first day had set the tension between us like ice. He saw me as insubordinate, and I saw him as arrogant. Neither of us had stepped down, and the arguments happened daily. Now, in the dark, the hatred didn’t warm me. Pride didn’t either. Another shiver tore through me, violent enough to make my ribs ache. I shifted closer to the edge of the couch, toward the narrow gap between us. The movement felt like surrender. Sebastian didn’t speak. He didn’t even move. I edged forward again, then paused as my heart started to hammer. I hated seeking his body heat. But this wasn’t about what I wanted. This was about survival. I shifted closer and closer. Until Sebastian opened his eyes and stared at me. For a moment, neither of us said a word.

“You are freezing,” he murmured. It was the truth, and I nodded. Sebastian surprised me then when he threw off his top blanket and opened his arms. I hesitated for a split second as my mind screamed at me to go back. To keep the distance. But my body trembled with cold, and I shifted into his arms. I pressed against him so closely that I might as well have been on top of him. The warmth of his body hit me immediately, and I breathed out a soft sigh of relief. His body was solid and hard under the fabric of his suit, not that I noticed. I felt humiliated that it had come to this. Sebastian wrapped an arm around my back without a word. With the other hand, he dragged both of his blankets over us, tucking them around my shoulders. He shifted until we lay side by side, knees bent because the couch wasn’t wide enough. It wasn’t comfortable, but it was warmer.

So much warmer.

My cheek rested against his shoulder, and I focused on the steady rise and fall of his breathing, because thinking about anything else felt dangerous. I felt him move, and a moment later, the light from his phone lit up his face. I couldn’t help but sigh when I saw that there still wasn’t a signal. And the time read: 12:57 am. I could feel the hard ridge of his shoulder under my cheek and the heat of his chest against my ribs. Every instinct told me to pull away, to keep my space, to keep my anger. But my hands had stopped trembling for the first time all night. I hated that relief. I hated that my body trusted him more than my pride did. If I let myself think about how safe it felt, even for a minute, I would lose. He turned the phone off and set it on the table.

I should have pulled away.

I should have made a bitter joke. I should have reminded myself that this meant nothing. Instead, exhaustion settled over me. My eyelids burned. My body stopped shaking, and warmth spread deeper, loosening knots I didn’t know I was carrying. Sebastian’s hand rested between my shoulder blades, steady. Protective, even. It didn’t fit the man who constantly humiliated me in front of the whole office, and that contradiction twisted my thoughts. I wanted to hate him cleanly. I wanted him to stay the enemy. But in the dark, with no audience and no escape, he felt human.

That terrified me more than the storm.

Outside, the wind howled again, and somewhere in the building, something creaked. Sebastian’s arm tightened slightly, as if he had heard it too. I swallowed, pressed my forehead into his shoulder, and let my eyes close. The last thing I remembered before sleep took me was the steady beat of his heart under my ear, and the horrible thought that if the storm didn’t end soon, I might start wanting this warmth for reasons that had nothing to do with survival.

❄❄❄