Читать книгу Snow Crystal Trilogy: Sleigh Bells in the Snow / Suddenly Last Summer / Maybe This Christmas - Sarah Morgan - Страница 15

SHE WAS AWAKE at five, after a night in which sleep occupied less than a few hours. That, at least, was familiar.

She stuck to her usual routine. Brisk shower followed by strong coffee and an hour spent on her laptop, first clearing emails and then working on ideas. This was always her most creative time of day, before the sun came up and her phone starting ringing. Ideas flowed, and she spread papers over the work surface in the kitchen, scribbled notes, wrote down what she’d learned, afraid to lose even a single thought, terrified that if she slowed down or stopped to think about the night before her brain would freeze again.

She paced the length and breadth of the vaulted living room, watching darkness turn to dawn and snowy treetops emerge from a blanket of early-morning mist.

The beauty of it soothed her.

Here, deep in the forest, there were no reminders of Christmas. No glittering decorations, no maniacally grinning Santas, no canned Christmas music playing on a loop. Just nature at its most peaceful.

Her emotions, violently disturbed by the events of the night before, gradually settled.

By the time she took a break, her list of questions were longer than her list of answers, and her coffee had sat untouched on the table for an hour.

Kayla drank it cold while reading the notes she’d made. Her hair hung loose over the soft white robe that had been left for her use in the luxurious bathroom and her feet were bare on the wooden floor. It was the way she always started her day. The same routine she followed each day of her life and it felt familiar and yet unfamiliar.

Lifting her head, she realized the unfamiliar was the silence.

She was used to noise. Traffic noise. Street noise. The noise of a million people jostling for space in the same small slice of a city. First London, then New York. Here, there was no traffic, no people and no noise. The trees muffled sound and the snow fell in gentle silence.

Halfway through her third cup of coffee she heard a tap on the door and looked up in dismay, assuming she’d lost track of the time.

It wasn’t Jackson who stood there, but a girl. Dark hair peeped from underneath a fur-lined hood, and she carried a large box in her arms.

Under the padded ski jacket and trousers she was slim and fit and, judging from the way she balanced the box and tapped on the door, she had no trouble walking on ice.

Resenting the disturbance, Kayla put down her mug and walked to the door. She was greeted by a punch of cold air and a friendly smile.

“Hi, you must be Kayla!” Her breath forming clouds in the freezing air, the girl walked in without waiting for an invitation and deposited the box at Kayla’s feet. “I’m Brenna. Jackson asked me to find some gear. I hope something in this box fits.” She narrowed her eyes. “Looking at you I’m guessing it might, although we might not be lucky with the boots. Your feet are smaller than mine.”

Taken aback by the familiarity and unaccustomed to early-morning visitors, Kayla tightened the knot on her robe. “I—Thanks. I’m not dressed because I’m working—” She left the door to the cabin wide-open but the other girl didn’t take the hint.

“Yeah, I saw you pacing and frowning to yourself. You should close that door. You’re letting the heat out.” Brenna pushed the door shut with her foot. “So if you’re pacing, does that mean we should all be worried?”

Kayla glanced from the door to her uninvited visitor and wondered whether anyone at Snow Crystal had heard of personal space. “Why would you be worried?” Clearly the other girl wasn’t worried about interrupting someone who didn’t want to be interrupted.

“Jackson told us all you’re a genius at getting folks through the door and making a business busy.” Brenna unzipped her jacket. “Math has never been my best subject but even I can work out that empty rooms don’t equal profit. I haven’t asked him outright, because he looks as if he has enough on his mind, but it’s obvious to me things are grim. It might be Christmas, but we’ve got plenty of room at the inn right now. We’re pinning our hopes on you.”

Kayla thought about the night before and how badly she’d performed.

“We’ll fill those rooms.” What she had to do was think of this as a business challenge, like any other. What she didn’t need to do was think of the O’Neil family all together in that kitchen. “I was working on that when you arrived.” If she thought the other girl might take a hint, she was disappointed.

Brenna nodded. “So do you want to try this stuff on? I’m assuming Jackson asked me to bring it over because he’s planning on showing you the charms of Snow Crystal.”

“You’ve spoken to Jackson?”

“Caught up with him in the bar last night. Told me you didn’t have the right gear.”

And that, Kayla thought, was an understatement.

Had he told Brenna about her undignified fall? Or, worse, about the meeting?

“Thanks for the clothes.” Pulling her professionalism around her like a cloak she moved toward the door, but instead of following her Brenna walked farther into the room.

“Do I smell coffee?”

“Well, yes, but—”

“Great. You don’t mind if I help myself? Looks like you have plenty and I could do with some help waking up.” Brenna strolled to the kitchen and reached for a mug. “Need a top-up?”

“No, thanks.” She was already on her third cup, the caffeine pushing through her veins and kick-starting her sleep-deprived brain. What she needed was silence. What she didn’t need was to share her space with anyone.

The mornings were her time, before the madness of the day started in earnest.

But it didn’t seem to occur to Brenna that she might be intruding on anything. She walked around the cabin as if she owned it. Unlike Kayla, it didn’t take her five minutes of opening cupboards to find the mugs. She knew exactly where they were kept.

“I love this cabin, don’t you?” Brenna tugged off her gloves and filled the mug to the brim. “It’s my favorite. I could live here. I just love the shelf. The view is so perfect it seems like a total waste to fall asleep.”

“You’ve stayed here?”

“Once or twice. I live in town, but if the weather is bad I sometimes sleep over at the lodge and if Jackson is feeling generous he lets me use one of the cabins. Any excuse to sample Elizabeth’s cooking. Cooking isn’t really my thing. Apart from bacon. I’m good with bacon.” Brenna picked up the mug and nursed it, leaning her hips against the counter. “How was your welcome meal?”

“Welcome meal?” The mention of the night before was enough to make her feel as if she was rolling in snow naked.

“The pot roast. Elizabeth thought it would be the perfect meal to welcome you. She’s been planning it for days.”

“I didn’t stay to eat.” The revelation that the dinner had been especially to welcome her sharpened her guilt. “I had work to do. And I really should get on and do some more.”

“If you worked all last night you deserve a break. And talking of eating—” Brenna glanced around the kitchen. “Do you have any food?”

Kayla stared at her in desperation. “Food?”

“Breakfast?” Brenna lifted her eyebrows. “First meal of the day?”

“Oh—I—No, I don’t eat breakfast. I suppose there might be something in the cupboards, but really I should be getting on and—”

“You don’t eat breakfast?” Brenna sipped her coffee. “That will change when you’ve been here awhile. Breakfast is an important meal in the O’Neil household.”

When she’d been here awhile?

“I’m just here for a few days. Then I’m going back to New York.”

Brenna shuddered. “In that case, all the more reason to make the most of breakfast while you can. You haven’t lived until you’ve tasted Elizabeth’s pancakes with maple syrup. Did you know they make their own maple syrup here? Come back in February and you can see them tapping the trees. They have a working sugarhouse.” She chatted away, open and friendly, apparently oblivious to Kayla’s discomfort.

“I won’t be coming back in February. I’m just here until Christmas.”

“You’ll be back. Everyone who visits Snow Crystal wants to come back. You’ll book a vacation.”

Kayla didn’t point out that if that were the case, Jackson wouldn’t need her help. “I don’t take vacations.” She cast a desperate glance at her laptop. “I should probably get dressed and I expect you’ll have finished your coffee by the time I’m done, so I’ll say goodbye and—”

“I’ll wait while you try it on. If nothing fits, we can sort something else out.”

Realizing that the sooner she did this the sooner she’d be allowed to get back to work, Kayla grabbed the box of clothes and retreated to the bedroom.

Guilt pulled at her.

Elizabeth O’Neil had spent all day in the kitchen preparing a meal to welcome her, and she’d rejected their hospitality and walked out.

How on earth was she was going to recover this situation?

Jackson had told her he was having trouble getting them to support his ideas. They were already suspicious of her as an outsider. Even more so since she’d acted like one.

Her head started to pound, and she rummaged through the box and found a pair of black ski pants. They fitted perfectly, as did the fleece zip sweater and ski jacket. Socks in her hand, she walked back into the living room.

“This is all great, thanks.”

“Wow.” Brenna whistled. “Ski pants make most people look fat. Not you. I might have to hate you.”

Join the rest of the O’Neils.

“Don’t bother. People will know I’m a fraud the moment I step onto the snow. Horizontal and soaking wet isn’t a good look.”

Brenna studied her over the rim of her coffee mug. “You don’t ski?”

“No. In fact I suspect I don’t do anything that is going to endear me to the O’Neil family.”

“They’re a sporty family but they’re not employing you for your ability to ski a double-diamond-black trail.”

Kayla felt a rush of despair. “I don’t even know what that is.”

“It’s a difficult one that makes you want to throw up your breakfast. Hey—cheer up.” Brenna grinned. “We’re all expert at different things. I don’t know anything about public relations or whatever it is you do.”

Right at that moment Kayla didn’t feel as if she knew much about anything. Her confidence was at rock bottom. She sank down onto the sofa. “But you know Snow Crystal.”

“Grew up here. Went to school with the O’Neil boys, although they were a few years ahead of me. I skied with them. Followed them wherever they went.”

“Even down those—what did you call them?—diamond-black trails?”

“Those, too. Gave my mother panic attacks. Whatever they did, I had to do it, too, and they never once slowed down for me.” She grinned. “Bastards.”

Kayla remembered what she’d read about the O’Neil brothers. “And you run the ski program?”

“Yes. Although now Tyler’s back I guess that could change.” Brenna finished her coffee, strolled to the kitchen and rinsed her mug.

“What do you mean, now he’s back? Has he only just come back?”

“Tyler’s never been one to hang around Snow Crystal for long. Too wild.” Brenna bent to straighten her socks. “Came back for the funeral and then flew off again. He and Walter drive each other crazy. The more Walter tries to control him, the more Tyler rebels. It was the same when he was a kid. If Walter says white, Tyler says black. In many ways they’re alike but neither of them can see it.”

“So what made him come back?”

“Jess—that’s his daughter—announced she was coming to live with him.”

“Oh.” She remembered the brief glimpse she’d had of the girl before the puppy had trampled her shoes.

“She has spent Christmas here for the past twelve years, but now she’s here for good. Her Mom just had a baby.” Brenna’s voice changed. Hardened. “I don’t know the truth, but I’m guessing she and that guy she picked instead of Tyler don’t want poor Jess around. I can’t even imagine how bad she feels.”

Kayla sat still, staring straight ahead.

She didn’t have to imagine it.

She knew.

“It’s a mess,” Brenna said, “but she won’t really talk about it. And Tyler isn’t really helping. For some reason he’s being really strict with her, and it’s driving her crazy.”

“But he’s here.” Somehow Kayla formed the words. “He didn’t send her away.”

“I guess not.” Brenna looked thoughtful. Then she smiled. “I brought you some snow boots. They should be fine for walking around the resort. When you’re ready to ski, we’ll kit you out. I’d offer to give you a lesson, but I’m guessing Jackson wants to be the one to do that. You’ll be okay with him. Unlike Tyler, he slows down for beginners.”

Kayla was relieved by the change of subject. “Tell me a bit about Jackson. He handed over the running of his business to someone else and came home. That must have been hard.”

“Jackson has always been the responsible one. More controlled. Tyler is impulsive, but Jackson—” Brenna frowned. “He’s different. He weighs up all the options and then picks the best way, and once he’s picked it, he won’t deviate. He has total faith in himself. I saw it when he was younger. When we were skiing backcountry, Jackson would pause at the top of a slope and take a minute to pick his route. It was as if his brain was computing all the dangers. Tyler would just hurl himself off and trust his ability to get himself out of trouble.”

“And did that work?”

“Most of the time. He’s very gifted. Has strong instincts.” Brenna stooped to pick up her boots, her dark hair swinging forward and obscuring her features. “Trouble has always followed Tyler, and he’s never been one to run from it. Now Jackson—” straightening, she pushed her feet into fleece and warmth “—he treats trouble like a puzzle to be solved. When they were young, he was the one who refereed the fights between Sean and Tyler.”

Kayla thought about the way he’d handled the different personalities in the meeting. “He’s good with people.”

Brenna pulled a hat down over her ears. “He must be or I wouldn’t have come back here. I was perfectly happy in Switzerland, and at least there I didn’t have to—” She broke off and gave a distracted smile. “I should get going. I’m teaching a class in twenty minutes. Perhaps we can grab a drink sometime. Thanks for the coffee.”

“You’re welcome.” Kayla wondered what it was Brenna hadn’t had to do in Switzerland. “Thanks for the clothing.”

“Glad it fits. Hope you can fill this place with people.”

“Brenna?” She stood up and followed her to the door. “What do you love about Snow Crystal?”

“What do I love?” Brenna tilted her head back and stared at the tops of the trees and the mountains beyond them as if she was surprised Kayla couldn’t see it for herself. “All of it. I love the crunching sound of snow under my boots and the way the cold air feels on my cheeks. I love the summer here and the fall foliage of course, but winter is special. You’ll understand that as soon as we put you on skis. There is no better feeling than being alone on the mountain skiing the last run of the day when the only sound is the soft rush of your skis over fresh snow.”

“If I find myself alone on a mountain it will be because I’m lost.”

Laughing, Brenna opened the door, letting in a stream of cold air. “The snow patrol are last off the mountain. You’re going to be fine. Here’s Jackson now. I’ll see you later.” She walked across the deck and down the steps, sure-footed and confident.

Kayla stood watching her for a moment, feeling better.

The feeling lasted right up until the moment Brenna reached up and gave Jackson a kiss.

Jackson glanced toward the cabin. “You found something to fit?”

“Of course.” Brenna zipped her jacket. “But I don’t think she was pleased to see me. It’s frostier in the cabin than out. That girl is stiffer than a fir tree after an ice storm. If that’s what working in Manhattan does for you, I’m glad to be at Snow Crystal. You need to get her to relax, Jackson.”

“I’m working on that.” He could see her through the windows of the cabin, head bent over her laptop. Black ski pants showed off her long slim legs and that sleek curtain of blond hair was twisted neatly into a clip at the back of her head. She looked businesslike, but there was a vulnerability about her that hadn’t been visible in New York. Or maybe he hadn’t been looking.

“I have a feeling that getting that girl to relax will be one of your more challenging projects so I’ll leave you to it.” Brenna flashed him a smile, and Jackson caught her arm as she turned away.

“About Tyler—”

Her smile didn’t slip as she extracted herself gently. “What about Tyler?”

“Is it all right, working with him?”

“Fine. As long as he doesn’t decide to take my kindergarten class down a diamond black, we’ll be good. See you later, Jackson.”

He knew she wasn’t telling the truth, but he decided that as long as she wasn’t resigning, that was all he needed to know for now. He’d handle the problems one at a time, and the next problem on his list was currently pacing the cabin in front of him.

She met him at the door.

Their eyes held for a fraction of a second and then she was smiling, brisk and efficient.

He remembered what Brenna had said about her being frozen and wondered why his friend couldn’t see what he could. If there was ice, then it was on the surface. Underneath, Kayla Green was a simmering cauldron of suppressed emotions.

“Good morning.” She was formal and distant, and he wondered how the hell he was going to break down those barriers and get her to relax enough to enjoy Snow Crystal. Somehow he had to teach a woman who lived her life indoors, to enjoy the outdoors. Have some fun. And the first thing he needed to do was make sure she was suitably dressed because nothing killed “fun” faster than cold.

“Brenna found you some gear. Did she wake you?”

“I’m an early riser.”

“Yeah, I remember now. The five o’clock start. And late to bed.” He knew, because he’d seen the light from her cabin glowing long after the clock by his bed had told him it was the next day.

He wondered what it was that kept her awake when others slept. An overactive mind? Or something else…

She stood aside to let him in, but Jackson shook his head and handed her a bag.

“Let’s make a start. I want to show you Snow Crystal. We’ll grab breakfast while we’re out.” He put the boots he was carrying down in front of her. “You need to wear these. I’m taking you on a tour.”

“On skis?”

“Not yet. I’m still searching for that ‘flat slope’ you requested. When I find it, I’ll let you know. In the meantime we’ll try something else.”

“Something else?” Her expression was comical. “When is your brother coming back for Christmas? I have a feeling I might need the services of an orthopedic surgeon. And I already have boots courtesy of Brenna.”

“What she gave you will be fine for walking around the resort, but you need these for what we’re doing today.” He watched as she slid her feet into them. Felt a flash of satisfaction that he’d guessed the right size. “Cinderella, I presume.”

“Her footwear was a little more delicate, and you are definitely not Prince Charming.”

“You don’t think I’m Prince Charming? You sure about that?” He straightened and found himself closer to her than he’d intended. She made him think of summer. Her hair smelled of flowers and her eyes were the same washed green as the trees emerging from a cobweb of early-morning mist.

Chemistry punched him hard in the gut, and the shock in her eyes told him she’d felt it, too.

“I stopped believing in Prince Charming around the time I stopped believing in Santa and the tooth fairy.” Dressed in ski gear she looked younger than she did in her businesslike skirt and stilettos. Softer.

Jackson felt an urge to power her back into the cabin and put some color into those pale cheeks. Instead he forced himself to step back and give her space.

“Santa’s not real? No one ever told me that. You just ruined my day.” He kept it light and saw her relax slightly.

“If you dump me in the snow, you’ll ruin mine.” She zipped the jacket to the neck and pulled on the gloves he handed her. “I hardly dare ask why I’m dressed like this. I’m not sure I’m going to like the answer. Does it involve bear or moose?” She turned to lock the cabin door.

“It might do. And you don’t need to worry about locking up. My mother hasn’t locked her door since she arrived here thirty-five years ago.”

“I live in a city. Force of habit.” Dropping the keys into her pocket, she stepped gingerly onto the deck, testing the surface. “These feel more stable than my other boots.”

“Anything would feel more stable than your other boots. Those should be fine on most surfaces, except for sheet ice. Here—” He handed her a helmet and she looked at it in alarm.

“I need a helmet?”

“For protection.”

“Protection from what?” Their feet crunched on snow as they walked down the path and she turned the helmet in her hands, looking at it from all angles. “I should have worn one of these last night when I met Walter. And maybe a bulletproof vest.”

He was impressed that she could treat it with humor despite feeling bruised. “Put the helmet on. We’re going to explore some of the Snow Crystal trails and backcountry.”

“How? I saw that picture of you jumping off a cliff, and frankly I don’t think I could—Oh—” She stopped at the gate and saw what was parked there. “What’s that?”

“That, Cinderella, is your carriage.”

She eyed the snowmobile. “We’ve been reading different fairy tales.”

“Cinderella would have loved a snowmobile. You’ve never been on one?”

“Er—no. There’s not a lot of call for them in London or New York.”

“They’re the most flexible mode of transport around here. They can cope with the forest tracks and the frozen lake. Guests love them. We have forty miles of groomed trails through the forest and the mountains.”

“The guests use these?”

“Tyler and a couple of the other instructors take small groups on snowmobile rides through the forest. We’re careful to stick to a defined route so we’re less likely to disturb wildlife, but it’s something most people enjoy around here. You need to put that helmet on and to do that you need to remove this…” He removed the clip from the back of her head and her hair slithered down in a sheet of tempting honey-gold. One strand curled across her cheek and brushed the corner of her full mouth.

Lust slammed into him.

Deciding he was in more trouble than he’d thought, Jackson took the helmet from her and pushed it onto her head. He secured it, noticing that she was avoiding eye contact. He might have thought nothing of it had it not been for the streak of color across her cheekbones and the fact she was barely breathing.

He knew the feeling.

“Are you ready?”

“Ready?” Her voice was a startled croak.

“For our trip.” Damn, he wasn’t doing any better than she was. All he wanted to do was pull off that helmet and kiss that mouth. “Through the forest.”

“You want me to drive that thing?”

“Not this time. This time I’ll drive ‘that thing.’” And the sooner the better, for both their sakes. “You’re the passenger.”

“Mmm—” Her eyes were fixed on the snowmobile now. “I’m not a good passenger. I prefer to be the one in the driving seat.”

He had no trouble believing that. From what he’d seen so far, Kayla Green was big on control, most especially when it came to her own emotions. “But you’ve never driven one before, so if we both want to live it would probably be better if I drove this time.” He pushed his own helmet onto his head. “I’ll teach you. But not today.”

She opened her mouth to argue and then closed it again. “Does it go fast?”

“Only if I make it go fast.”

“Tell me you’re not a speed fiend like your brother.”

Back in control, Jackson smiled and pulled on his gloves. “I could tell you that—” he flipped down the shield on her helmet and swung his leg over the saddle “—but I was raised not to tell a lie. Move when I move and lean when I lean.”

“Jackson—”

“Hop on, Cinderella, or that clock will be striking midnight before you’ve even arrived at the damn ball.”

Gingerly, she slid her leg over the back of the snowmobile. “I’m really not sure about this—”

“You have to be sure of something before you do it? That must be limiting. Hold on to me.”

“I can sit without help.” Her voice was muffled by the helmet, and he realized that if it did nothing else, the helmet would stop him kissing her.

“Just like you could walk on ice without help. We both remember how that turned out.” Smiling to himself, Jackson gave it some choke and cranked the engine—and felt Kayla’s arms shoot around his waist. He shook with laughter. “You okay back there? Only I thought you said you could sit without help.”

“If you’re laughing at me you’re going to be sorry.”

But he wasn’t sorry. He wasn’t sorry about any of it. Not about bringing her here and certainly not about taking her on this trip. He spent his days trying to make numbers add up into a different pattern, defusing tension, soothing anxieties while all the time trying to do things the way he knew they had to be done if this whole place was going to thrive again. He was weighed down by duty and responsibility, and he didn’t often get to throw off that weight. But Kayla Green made him feel lighter. She also made him feel a hell of a lot of other things he was trying to ignore.

He took it steady to begin with, allowing her time to get used to the rhythm of the snowmobile and the feel of moving across the snow and ice. At one point he heard her gasp and felt her tighten her grip on him, but then they left the resort behind and soon they were speeding along winding trails, through dense, heavily wooded forest.

It was a perfect blue-sky winter day. The overnight fall of snow had added a layer of soft powder to the groomed trail and the surface sparkled under the bright sun.

He thought he heard her laugh and he increased the speed, gently touching the throttle to keep the machine moving.

Jackson thought about the times he and his brothers had raced along this trail, risking life and limb, leaving their mother racked with worry. Sheer guts and enthusiasm had bred skill, and now he knew where to steer, how much throttle to use to get the best performance from the machine and he pushed it to the limits.

When they reached the Chocolate Shack, he slowed and pulled off the trail.

A curl of smoke rose from the chimney and a few skiers wrapped in warm layers were seated at tables outside, a slash of color against a background of white.

“That was amazing! I want to spend the rest of my life doing that.” Breathless and laughing, she slid off the back of the snowmobile, flipped up the shield on her helmet and glanced around her, enchanted. “This place is gorgeous. How does anyone ever find it?”

“There are trail maps. And its reputation means people make the effort. They’re famous for their whipped hot chocolate.”

“Whipped hot chocolate? That sounds delicious.” She pulled off the helmet and her hair flowed over her shoulders like sunlight, knocking all coherent thoughts out of his brain.

It wasn’t just the color, although he wasn’t about to object to natural blond—it was the way it swung, silky and soft, just inviting a man to reach out and slide his hands into it. Tangled and slightly messed by the helmet, her hair sparked thoughts of how she would look waking in the early morning after a night of hot screaming sex. Everything about her made him think of sex, and he realized how long it was since he’d had some serious rest and relaxation. Just for once it would have been nice to take a break from rescuing his family. He had several ideas of how he’d choose to spend the time, and none of them included rest. They did, however, include Kayla Green. Naked. Smiling at him the way she was smiling now.

He wondered how she’d react if he did what he was longing to do and kissed that mouth. Then he realized that mouth was moving. “Sorry—did you say something?”

“I said it sounds delicious.”

“What sounds delicious?”

“The hot chocolate.” She looked puzzled. “What else?”

What else? He was on the verge of revealing exactly what else but he stopped himself.

He had responsibilities, and none of them involved having hot screaming sex with Kayla Green. “Waffles,” he said thickly. “The waffles are good.”

“Sounds delicious.” The cold air had put color in her cheeks. Or maybe something else was responsible for the sudden flush. The same something that was burning inside him. “The snowmobile was fantastic. I can’t remember when I last had a high like that when I wasn’t working.”

It told him a lot about her that her highs came from work.

Unable to help himself, Jackson pushed her hair back from her face, and her smile froze as if she suddenly remembered that she didn’t do this.

“Jackson—”

“Whipped hot chocolate.” He heard the roughness of his own voice and pulled his hand away. “Let’s go and have some of that.” Before he gave in to temptation and had something else.

THE CHEMISTRY SWIRLED between them, brushing over her skin and darting through her body, sharp and terrifying. It drew her in, drew her to him. And she knew the source of the attraction was more than a pair of blue eyes and strong shoulders. His strength wasn’t restricted to the physical. It went deeper.

Even after a comparatively short time in his company, it was easy to see why he was the one his family turned to in a crisis. Another man might have chosen to focus on his own business. Jackson O’Neil had chosen to come home and do what needed to be done. And from what she’d seen so far, it was a thankless task.

He glanced at her. “Inside or out?”

“Outside.” She was breathless, and she didn’t know whether it came from the sheer exhilaration of speeding through deep snow along a forest trail or being near him.

“You’re not cold?”

“I like looking at the trees.” She picked a table near to the cabin and breathed in the smell of wood smoke and forest. Sunlight filtered through the trees. The sky was a Caribbean blue, the temperatures Arctic. The contrast fascinated her. “I had no idea winter could be this pretty.”

“It’s the best time, providing you’re dressed for it.” Jackson put his helmet down on the table next to her and trudged through the snow to the door of the cabin.

She shouldn’t have watched him, but she couldn’t help it. He was in his element here, outdoors in the mountains, confident and comfortable in the harsh surroundings of snow and ice. And she wasn’t alone in her appreciation of his qualities. Two women at the adjacent table were looking at him, too, gazes lingering.

Kayla looked away and focused on the snow-laden trees.

She couldn’t remember ever being anywhere so peaceful. The only sound was the occasional dull thud as deeply piled snow tumbled from a branch onto the snowy forest floor.

It was a million miles from Manhattan.

A million miles from her life.

“Here.” A large mug of hot chocolate appeared in front of her. Jackson pulled out the chair across from her and straddled it. “People ski for miles to sample Brigitte’s Belgian hot chocolate. It’s legendary around these parts.” He’d pulled down the zip of his jacket and the neck of his jumper brushed his darkened jaw.

She rarely noticed men because she was too busy thinking about other things, too busy rushing through her life to ever take a second look, but Jackson was a man who deserved a second look. And a third. In fact the women at the table next to her hadn’t stopped looking.

It bothered her that she didn’t want to stop looking, either.

Instead, she focused on the swirls of cream that topped her hot chocolate. “So this is a special recipe? What’s in it?”

“Calories,” he said drily. “Brigitte guards the exact combination with her life, but I think it involves milk, chocolate, vanilla, fresh whipped cream and cinnamon. You might want to call your cardiologist before you take a sip.”

“Is it worth the extra hours in the gym?”

“You’re going to work off those calories fast enough. I’m taking you skiing this afternoon.”

“I haven’t already humiliated myself enough in the snow? You want more?” Kayla paused with the mug halfway to her lips. “Can’t we just explore on the snowmobile?” She was surprised by how much she’d enjoyed being outdoors—the crisp fresh air and the sting of cold on her cheeks. Then there was the feeling of being pressed close to Jackson, but she wasn’t going to think about that… .

“You’re getting the whole Snow Crystal experience, Kayla Green. No wimping out.”

He had a way of persuading people to do exactly what he wanted them to do, she thought. He knew when to push hard, when to back off. When to employ a steely look and when to smile. He had his mother’s warmth and interest in people. He was a man who took the trouble to look beneath the surface.

It unsettled her.

She didn’t want him looking beneath the surface. She wasn’t looking for depth. She didn’t want depth.

“Just as long as the whole Snow Crystal experience doesn’t include bear and moose.” She sipped her chocolate and closed her eyes. It was the best thing she’d tasted, the hot velvety sweetness made even more perfect by the freezing temperatures biting through her clothing. “I’ve died and gone to heaven.”

“Good, isn’t it?”

She opened her eyes and saw that he was smiling. “Worth two solid weeks on the treadmill.”

“You haven’t truly lived until you’ve tasted Brigitte’s hot chocolate.”

“It’s wicked.” She tasted cream, chocolate and the burst of cinnamon and savored it all—flavor, scent and texture. As she licked cream from her top lip, she saw that he was watching her.

“I get the sense you don’t usually indulge.”

Kayla curled her fingers around the mug, warming her hands, staring down at the chocolate flakes sprinkled onto swirls of whipped cream. “That depends on what you mean by indulge.”

“Doing something just for the sheer pleasure of it.” Somehow the atmosphere had shifted. There was tension where tension shouldn’t exist. Heat where there should have been cold.

“Work is my indulgence.”

“Work can’t be an indulgence. Not even if you enjoy it.”

“Of course it can. There’s nothing like the high you get from winning a big account, or getting a client profiled in their target media.”

“Nothing?” He leaned across and brushed his thumb over her mouth, and she stilled, feeling that touch right through her.

“What are you doing?”

“Removing chocolate from your lips.”

“I could have done that.”

“I guess you could.” He lowered his hand slowly. “But I did it.”

Heart pounding, she touched her fingers to her mouth where his had been only moments earlier. “Do all the O’Neils touch a lot? Last night your mother wanted to hug me, and she’d only just met me.”

“My mother has always known how to give a warm welcome. Does it bother you?”

Yes, it bothered her. “I suppose I’m not used to it.”

“You don’t come from a family of huggers?”

“Why are you so interested in my family?”

“Just a friendly question, Kayla. But if it makes you uncomfortable, you don’t have to answer.”

It made her uncomfortable. He made her uncomfortable.

She tried not to look at the width of those shoulders or the warmth of his gaze. “My family wasn’t tactile.”

“Wasn’t?”

“I mean isn’t.” Unused to talking about her family, she handled it clumsily, but he let it go.

“How did you end up in public relations?”

The shift in conversation was a relief. “When I graduated, I went for an interview with an advertising agency in London. They had a sister PR agency and during my interview they decided I was exactly what they were looking for. It took about six months to discover I had an aptitude for finding media angles and selling them to the press. After that I was promoted pretty quickly.”

“It must have been hard, moving to the U.S.”

“Not really. I didn’t have anything keeping me in London.”

“Your family isn’t there?”

And, just like that, they were right back to that question. “My mother lives in New Zealand. My father, in Canada.”

“So you were on your own in the U.K.?”

She’d been on her own for as long as she could remember. “It’s fairly common for families to be scattered these days.” Scattered was a good word. Lost might have been a better one.

She thought about the envelope waiting for her back in the cabin. Last year, the envelope had stayed untouched until February when she’d finally cleared out the bottom of her in-tray.

She was terrified Jackson was going to press her for more details, but he levered himself to his feet. “Are you done? I want to show you the ice waterfall before I take you skiing.”

Deciding that skiing had to be preferable to talking about her family, Kayla finished her drink and followed him to the snowmobile.

He stood steady in the deep snow, legs spread as he pulled on his gloves. “Do you want to drive?”

Remembering the twisty, turning trails and the skill he’d shown maneuvering the snowmobile, she shook her head. “Not this time. I’d rather let you do the work. When it comes to physical effort I’m inherently lazy.”

“So you’re a lie-back-and-let-it-happen sort of woman? That surprises me.” The gleam in those blue eyes made her feel as if she’d stepped off a cliff.

“Are you flirting with me?” She breathed and felt cold air rush into her lungs. Unfortunately it did nothing to cool the heat of her skin. “Because if you are, I’d have to warn you that you’re wasting your time.”

“It’s my time.” His gaze steady on hers, he picked up his helmet. “Up to me how I choose to waste it.”

“Just as long as you know I’m not good at personal relationships.”

“Who told you that?”

“No one. I have impressive self-insight. I know what I’m good at. I know what I’m bad at. I’m bad at relationships. Not just bad, terrible. The truth is I find work more interesting than any man.” There. She’d said it. And he was still standing there. Still watching her with eyes that saw far, far too much.

“Surely that would depend on the man.”

“I’d rather check my emails than go on a date. And if I do go on a date, I still check them.”

“Is that right?” He reached out and tilted her chin, and she froze, but all he did was zip her jacket to her throat and smile at her. “The internet connection is pretty unpredictable up here. You might have to find another way to occupy yourself on a date, Kayla.”

“I don’t intend to go on a date. I’m here to work.”

“So your plan for dealing with chemistry is to pretend it doesn’t exist?”

“Chemistry?” The word came out like a croak, and his eyes creased at the corners.

“Yeah, that chemistry. Seems to me we have two choices here. We can try to ignore it or we can go with it and see where we end up.”

“Option one works for me.”

“That could give me a problem.”

Her mouth was dry. “Why?”

“Because I’m leaning toward option two.” For a crazy, heart-stopping moment she thought he was going to kiss her. Then his smile widened and he stepped away. “The snow is likely to be deep up ahead. Hold on tight.”

That was it? He was going to throw out a statement like that and then just leave it there? Leave her all jumbled up and thrown off balance?

Feeling as if she’d stuck her hand into a naked flame, Kayla climbed on behind him.

She hesitated and then curved her arms around his waist. The hardness of his thighs pressed against hers, and she was torn between pulling back and falling off or drawing closer. In the end she drew closer and found herself pressed against masculine power and strength. Her heart was banging against her ribs, and her hands were shaking so much she was sure he was going to feel it.

And no doubt he’d say something, because he wasn’t a man who backed down from anything. Instead of ignoring the chemistry, he’d addressed it. Instead of being frozen out by her lack of response, he’d seemed amused.

As they traveled along the snowy trail she ceased to think about the forest or work, and thought about him.

She was so lost in the moment she didn’t even realize they’d stopped moving.

“This is it. We walk the rest of the way.”

“Walk?” She slid off the machine, conscious that it was just the two of them. They were alone, and out here in the wilds of the forest alone meant alone. “Just how far away is this ice waterfall?”

“Through the trees. This is as close as we can get on the snowmobile. We have to walk a little way down the trail. It’s groomed so you shouldn’t have trouble.”

She didn’t.

Her feet crunched on the surface of packed snow and soon they were enveloped by the silence of the forest. Jackson was slightly ahead and she was gazing at the width of his shoulders when he stopped suddenly. She crashed right into those shoulders and would have fallen again had he not grabbed her hand and hauled her against him.

“Look.” It came as naturally to him to touch as it did to her to keep herself at a distance, but she didn’t have long to dwell on that because they’d reached a break in the trees and there, towering above them was a cascade of ice, a frozen sculpture formed by nature and cutting between the rocks.

“That’s a waterfall?” She tried to imagine how such a force of nature could ever freeze.

“During the summer the water tumbles down here, but in exceptionally cold winters it freezes over.”

“It’s astonishing.” And it was. Not just the spectacle of an entire waterfall frozen in front of her eyes but the detail, the colours and textures, from opaque to translucent, silver threaded through bright white with shimmers of green and blue as the sun hit the surface.

“Sometimes we climb here.”

“You climb up the ice?”

“It’s fun. And challenging because the conditions change constantly as the outer surface of the ice melts.” His gaze shifted from her face to something behind her and his expression changed. “Kayla—”

“What?” Turning her head, she saw a large moose watching them through the trees. “Oh, crappity crap. That is big.”

His fingers tightened on hers, his hand warm and strong. “Don’t panic. He isn’t going to be interested in you.”

“That isn’t flattering.” Heart pumping, she stared at the moose. “The design is wrong. The legs are too long for the body, the body is too short for the face, and the antlers are the wrong size and shape for anything, but I’m willing to bet they’d hurt if he chose to drive them into someone.” She hoped that someone wasn’t her.

“The long legs enable him to walk through deep snow. Moose are fine as long as you don’t get too close.”

“Do I look like I intend to get close? I’m trying to run, but you’re holding me. Let’s go.”

“No. This is all part of the Snow Crystal experience.” His voice warm with laughter, he slid his arm around her waist, locking her against him. “Lots of tourists come here hoping to see what you’re seeing now.”

What she was seeing was a strong jaw shadowed by dark stubble and a firm mouth that was too close for comfort.

Suddenly the moose didn’t feel as threatening as the chemistry. “With the benefit of many years of experience I can tell you that the moose is not going to be what gets you on the cover of Time magazine. Let’s go—”

“The important thing to remember is that there is no safe way to approach a moose.” He tightened his grip, holding her easily. She was pressed against the hard muscle of his thighs and it wasn’t the moose she was thinking about, but him.

“I can assure you I won’t be approaching it. In fact this might be a good time to show me your love of speed.”

“They’re not usually aggressive unless they’re frightened. It’s one of the reasons we tell people to keep their dogs on leads around here. During the mating season, in the fall, the bulls can become aggressive.”

“Note to self—never visit in October.” She tugged at her hand. “Now can we—”

“Kayla—” he tugged her back to him “—he’s not going to hurt you.”

The chemistry was suffocating. The knot in her tummy wound tighter and tighter.

“You don’t know what his intentions are toward me. He might sense I’m a city dweller and decide to send me back to New York with one kick.” She tried to joke. Tried to do anything she could to cut through the tension that was like a steel wire pulling her toward him. “I presume they kick?”

“Yes. Despite their size, moose are flexible. They can kick in all directions, including sideways.”

“Sounds like my yoga instructor. Can we go now?”

He smiled that slow, dangerous smile, his mouth just a breath away from hers. “Don’t you trust me to protect you?” He was all hard muscle and masculinity, and she no longer knew where the threat lay, but she had a feeling it wasn’t behind her.

“I’ve always preferred to be in charge of my own protection.” She felt weird, and she had no idea whether it was the proximity of the moose or the proximity of Jackson O’Neil. “I guard myself.”

“Yeah, I got that.” His voice was husky, his eyes on her mouth. “And what happens when you let your guard down, Kayla?”

“I don’t let my guard down. I don’t let people close.”

But he was close.

Too close.

And then his mouth wasn’t just close to hers it was on hers, sure and demanding, and his kiss felt as good as she’d known it would. Hunger ripped through her, the sexual chemistry so intense the heat threatened to burn right through them. It was the most erotic, sexually explicit kiss she’d ever experienced, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, lost in it.

“Christ, Kayla—” He groaned the words against her mouth, his voice thickened and rough. He had one hand locked in her hair and the other on her back, holding her hard against him. Pressed thigh to thigh, she was aware of hardness and heat, of the sensual stroke of his tongue against hers, and she grasped the front of his jacket, hauling him closer, wanting more, needing more. The sheer force of the chemistry shocked her because it was as sharp as it was unfamiliar.

She didn’t do this… .

But she was doing it now, her mouth as hungry for his as his was for hers. Her gut tightened. Nothing mattered except his kiss, and the skill of that kiss turned her brain to slush and her limbs to water. Her surroundings faded, and her entire world became this man, his mouth, his hands and the desperate heat burning through her body.

They were creating enough heat to melt the frozen waterfall, and yet still she wanted more. She wanted to climb all over him, rip off his clothes, get to see those muscles without the clothes, she wanted to—

He powered her back against the nearest tree and she would have lost her balance had he not steadied both of them. She felt the roughness of the bark pressing through the thickness of her jacket. He rested one arm above her head, caging her, and still he kissed her, as if he couldn’t stop, couldn’t help himself, and she moaned his name because she couldn’t help herself, either. She fumbled with his jacket, pushed her hands inside and felt the hard swell of male muscle against her seeking fingers. The smell of pine mingled with the tantalizing scent of him. A shower of snow thudded onto her head from the branches above, but she barely registered the sudden cold because his fingers were on her zip, too, and when he cupped her breast she felt herself shiver. She moaned, twisted as the heat pooled low in her pelvis. She felt the skilled drag of his fingers over her nipple, the erotic slide of his tongue in her mouth and the only sounds were the pumping of blood in her head and the shallow rasp of their breathing.

All around them was silence, a mysterious magical silence as the snowbound forest cloaked their illicit moment of passion in wintery whiteness.

And then he lifted his head. Slowly, reluctantly, as if he were locked in a battle between willpower and desire, and Kayla opened her eyes, too, dazed and disorientated.

Maybe it was because they were standing in the shadow of a tree but his eyes seemed dark, an almost midnight-blue, and for once there wasn’t a hint of a smile on his hard, handsome face.

And then he gently eased himself away from her and slid up her zip, protecting her from the cold. “So now we have the answer.”

“The answer?” Her lips, still tingling from the pressure of his, could barely form The question. “What answer?” She didn’t have the answer to anything, least of all why she’d done what she’d just done. He’d started it, but she’d been right there with him. The only difference between them was that she wouldn’t have stopped.

“The answer to what happens when you let your guard down. If you feel the need to check your emails, go ahead.” A slight roughening of his voice was the only hint that he was affected by what had happened.

“Emails?” She stared at him dizzily, wondering how a man’s kiss could blitz her brain so completely.

“Yeah. Those things you check when you’re bored by the man you’re with.” He paused long enough to let the words sink in. Then he stepped back and glanced over her shoulder. “I’m sure you’ll be relieved to know the moose has gone.”

Moose?

She hadn’t given a single thought to the moose since he’d started kissing her.

In fact she was fairly sure that while Jackson’s mouth had been on hers a whole family of moose could have stampeded right over her and she wouldn’t have noticed. She was surprised to see the snow still thick on the trees and deep underfoot. She’d half expected to find herself standing in a pool of meltwater.

As reality slowly reasserted itself, so did the panic.

She never did this. Never felt this.

But maybe this happened to Jackson O’Neil all the time.

Judging from the way Brenna had hugged him that morning, she obviously wasn’t the only one affected by Jackson O’Neil. The thought cooled her more effectively than the shower of snow.

“Does Brenna mind you kissing random women?”

Those blue eyes narrowed. “I’ve never asked, but I’m fairly sure she’d tell me to go ahead and kiss who I want to kiss.”

Confused, Kayla stepped back, but he locked his hand in the front of her jacket and dragged her back to him. “I’m not with Brenna.”

“I’m not interested in your love life, O’Neil—”

“Yes, you are. You saw her hug me and you wondered, but you don’t need to wonder. You could have asked me straight-out, of course. For the record, that’s the way I’d prefer it, because then there are no misunderstandings. But seeing as you insist on pretending none of this is happening, I’ll answer the question you haven’t asked. Brenna and I are friends. We’ve been friends a long time. If it was going to be more, it would have happened long ago.” His hand was still on her jacket as he held her toe-to-toe with him and the power of the chemistry almost blinded her.

“Fine.” Except it wasn’t fine. None of this was fine. “I just have no idea why you kissed me, that’s all.”

“No?” A slow smile spread across his face. “You’re a clever woman. I’m sure you’ll figure it out. Failing that, why don’t you ask yourself why you kissed me? That ought to give you some clues.” With that, he released her and walked back to the snowmobile, the view of his powerful shoulders leading her to decide that Jackson O’Neil looked as good from the back as he did from the front.