Yes, there was. McCready himself.
He hadn’t made any illicit overtures toward her, she reminded herself dryly. He hadn’t made any overtures at all.
Still, there was something…
“Mrs. Adams?”
“All right. All right, we’ll come.”
“I’ll pick you up at your house on Sunday morning. Nine o’clock. Is that all right?”
Her palm was damp, Cary realized. “Yes,” she said. Sunday morning.
What had she done?
Sunday morning came, and Cary waited anxiously for nine o’clock to come. How did Jason McCready travel? Would he pick her up with an entourage? In a limo? Maybe a Mercedes. No. A Rolls.
“You all right, Mom?”
She was looking out the apartment window, and she would have been chewing her nails if she hadn’t already donned her gloves. Bless Danny. He thought it was the most natural thing in the world that her boss should have invited them on a ski weekend. Oh, the innocence of children!
But then, she had been the only one to see anything at all wrong. June had been ecstatic. “He likes you, kid, he really likes you!” And then, in the middle of Cary’s office, she had loudly said “Hmm! He’s definitely tall, dark and handsome!”
“And a recluse. And deeply in love with his deceased wife,” Cary had remarked flatly.
“Well, look at that, will you? You’re deeply in love with your deceased husband, he’s deeply in love with his deceased wife. What a couple.”
“We’re not a couple at all. I’m certain he’ll have a date up there for…well, for some function. I’m just going as…as…”
“The nanny?” June had suggested drolly.
“Right. The nanny,” Cary had agreed sweetly, making a face.
“Well, we did order tall, dark and handsome for Christmas. And he’s rich, too.”
“We didn’t order tall, dark and handsome. You did,” Cary had reminded her.
“That’s right. According to Jeremy, all we needed to find for you is someone who doesn’t wear his boxer shorts pulled up over his belt.”
“Would you get out of here, please?” Cary had moaned.
“Hmm,” June had speculated again. And Cary had thrown her out of her office as nicely as she could.
But now that the time was coming nearer and nearer, Cary was nervous. She might have been invited because of Danny, but Jason McCready had never suggested that she was along to play nanny for the children.
But then, she wasn’t one of his real guests, either. So where did that leave her? And why did she care so much?
She leaned her forehead against the windowpane and felt the searing cold come through. Her stomach was in knots, she was so nervous.
Too sensitive. And defensive. She had to relax. Well, she would try.
A Jeep Wagoneer pulled up to the curb as she stared out the window. Her eyes widened when she saw the very tall figure of Jason McCready slide from the driver’s seat.
He was in blue jeans and a leather jacket, hatless despite the cold. He looked up and managed to find her face right there in the window. His dark hair was out of order, lifted by the wind, falling over his forehead, and his eyes were very bright. Instinctively, Cary wanted to withdraw. But he had seen her, and he was smiling. Then he waved, and her heart turned another little somersault, because she suddenly realized just how attractive a man he was.
She smiled. So much for the Rolls, the limo or the Lincoln. He’d come in a Jeep.
“He’s here!” Danny shrieked delightedly.
“Yes, yes, he’s here. Grab your bags, Danny. And don’t scream quite so loudly, or we won’t last the first day!” she advised him. But Danny wasn’t chastised. He cast her a lopsided grin, his eyes alight with pleasure. He scooped up his duffel bag and headed for the apartment door, casting it open just as Jason McCready appeared before it.
“Well, I was about to ask if you were ready or not, but it appears that you are,” he told Danny.
“Yes, sir! Thank you, sir! I’m ready. This is great! Just great. Did I say thank you?”
Jason McCready seemed pleasantly amused. “Yes, you did. And I thank you for coming. Angela is very excited. She’s in the car. Want to take your things and run on down? I’ll get your mom’s bag.”
Danny ran out, and Cary found herself face-to-face with Jason McCready. She moistened her lips, alarmed that she was so nervous.
It seemed that she stood there forever, feeling those green eyes touch down on hers. And despite the cold of the day, she felt a warmth creeping swiftly through her.
“Is that your only bag?” he asked.
“What? Oh, yes, that’s it, thank you,” she murmured.
He collected her bag. As he did so, his eyes swept the apartment.
She loved antiques, and they fit well with her building, a three-storied federal brick that had been built in the early eighteen hundreds. The parlor was a compilation of Edwardian and Victorian pieces she had lovingly stripped and stained and polished herself. A braided rug covered the floor before the fireplace, and a deep old leather sofa was covered with an afghan. Little copper pots and other bric-a-brac decorated the buffets and cabinets. Blue and white Dutch patterned draperies hung at the windows. It wasn’t contemporary; it probably wasn’t in the least what Jason McCready was accustomed to. But it was a warm and very inviting room.
He didn’t comment on it, only said, “Ready?”
“Yes.”
He smiled. “You’re not going off into a den of lions, you know.”
She arched a brow and stiffened. Jason McCready’s smile deepened. There was no way, of course, that she could know that he was thinking that the spines of his little porcupine were already bristling away.
Cary hurried through the door.
She also didn’t realize that, as she brushed by him, he breathed in the clean scent of her hair. Or that the subtle charisma of her perfume trailed sweetly through the air.
She was just too aware herself. Of Jason McCready. Big, so very tall in her antique doorway, his shoulders exceptionally broad and attractive in the leather jacket.
She would certainly have no complaints if she was dating this man, she thought. His underwear was not pulled well over his belt line. His belt line was perfect. All of him was perfect.
That wasn’t fair. She knew a lot of attractive men, and she had been teasing about the underwear. It had very little to do with looks. McCready’s appeal was all in his eyes, in the little line around them, in the richness of his voice, in his rare smile….
And then she nearly gasped aloud. She wasn’t dating Jason McCready. She was accompanying her son on a trip to the man’s ski lodge!
With her cheeks flaming, she hurried down the stairs. By the time she reached the streets, she thought she had regained a little of her composure.
The kids were already in back, chatting away. Angela leaped from her seat while Jason packed Cary’s bag in the rear of the vehicle. She threw her slender little arms around Cary, so giving, so trusting. “Thank you! Thank you so much for coming. Daddy said you might not let Danny come along, but I knew you would. I’m so glad that you’re going to be with us!”
“Thank you,” Cary murmured. Jason was coming round to open her door. She stared at him, and he shrugged. She hadn’t realized that he knew her well enough to warn his daughter that she might very well refuse.
The passenger door was open, and he was waiting. She slipped into the Jeep, and the door closed behind her.
Jason McCready went around and slid into the driver’s seat. A plaid thermal blanket lay on the seat between them. He flashed Cary a quick smile. “It’s a long drive. About three hours. Just in case you get cold.”
“Thanks,” she said.
There was very little traffic, even in Boston. The kids chatted away while Jason expertly steered the large vehicle through the narrow streets, past the Common and toward the turnpike.
“Do you ski?” he asked Cary. She shook her head. He shrugged.
“Well, we can solve that in a week.”
Her heart skipped a beat. “Really,” she murmured. “You don’t have to worry about entertaining me. I’m just along for Danny. I’ll be all right.”
She nearly jumped a mile when his arm stretched out across the seat and his fingers curved around her neck. He flashed her a very quick smile.
“Relax, Mrs. Adams! It is a ski lodge. It’s where people learn to ski. And you and Danny are both my guests, I’m very much hoping that you’ll enjoy yourself.”
The most absurd sensation swept through her. Tears stung her eyes, and she suddenly longed with all her heart to move closer against him. To lay her head on his shoulder. To relax…to feel his fingers, warm and sure, working away the tension at her nape….
His hand fell away, and she blinked. Hard. Then she managed to smile. “Thank you, Mr. McCready.”
“Dad’s name is Jason,” Angela suddenly volunteered from the back.
“Yes, I know,” Cary said.
“Mom’s is Cary,” Danny offered in turn.
Jason grinned, meeting Danny’s eyes in the mirror. “I know, son, but thank you.”
“Well, if you both know,” Angela said with exasperation, “why do you keep up with this Mr. and Mrs. business?”
Cary, smiling, shifted in her seat to see the wide, expectant eyes of the children. “He’s my boss,” she told Angela.
“And she’s one of my employees,” Jason explained.
“That doesn’t change your name, does it?” Danny asked innocently.
“No, it doesn’t,” Jason said. He glanced quickly at Cary. “I can live with Cary, if you can handle Jason.”
“I think so. It’s simple. Two syllables. I should be able to manage it.”
The Jeep sped along the highway. Cary realized that she had actually known Jason McCready for about three years. And now, within a period of fifteen minutes, they were suddenly on a first-name basis.
And she still felt warm. Very, very warm—despite the cold of winter….
Chapter 3
The ski lodge was beautiful.
The place looked like an alpine château, all wood and angles, with beautiful carvings. The reception area in the front boasted a huge stone and wood fireplace that was decorated with Christmas stockings and ran nearly the length of the wall. All around the fireplace were leather sofas and chairs, arranged for small and large gatherings, all offering warmth and intimacy. Hot and cold drinks were served in the area all afternoon, with mulled wines and exotic coffees the specialty for grown-ups, and hot chocolate with whipped cream and chocolate shavings the main offering for the smaller fry.
Jason McCready explained all this to Cary as they stood in the entryway together. He had pointed out the nearly twenty-foot-high Christmas tree in the lobby to Danny when a young blond man came hurrying forward to welcome them. He was anxious to please Jason McCready, Cary decided, but there was also a warmth in his eyes and a pleasure in his voice that could mean only one thing—he liked his boss.
“Mr. McCready, you’re here! No bad traffic, I hope. Did the weather slow you down?”
Jason shook his head, drawing off his gloves. “No, Randy, the trip was fine. We got off the highway to take a look at the Basin.” He smiled at Cary as he explained. He’d mentioned the Basin when they had stopped for pizza for lunch. It wasn’t far from the lodge, just before a little town called Franconia’s Notch. It was one of the most exquisite places Cary had ever seen, with falls and rivulets racing over rocks through the snow to reach an otherwise tranquil spot where the water hurtled down with a noise like thunder. A lot of the shallower water was freezing over, but Cary assumed that the place would be beautiful in any season. Thoreau had thought so, too. According to Jason, he had been a frequent visitor to the area, and some of his words were now immortalized at the spot.
The area had been exciting to see. And more so, perhaps, with Jason McCready. Because of the ice, he had kept a steady hand upon her elbow as he had led her along, the children racing ahead. He had watched her in silence as he had shown her the place, and when she had spun with pure wide-eyed pleasure, he had seemed to read her thoughts.
“It’s almost like Camelot! In summer, everything is green and lush, and there are wildflowers everywhere. In fall, the colors are simply fantastic. In winter, it’s a crystal palace of ice, just as you see. And spring brings the water rushing down at a greater crescendo, sweet and clean, the flowers just budding and the return of the birds…” His voice had trailed away, and he’d shrugged. They had stood gazing at each other. He hadn’t seemed to need a reply, but she had never seen him so animated, nor had she imagined that he might feel so poetic about any place.
“It’s wonderful. Just wonderful,” she’d murmured, and then quickly added, “thank you for taking the time to stop for me—and Danny, of course—to see this.”
“The pleasure has been all mine, Mrs.—Cary,” he’d said softly. Then he had turned and walked away, leaving her to follow on her own.
And she had wondered if he had come there often with his Sara, and if the place had awakened memories.
In the car he had remained quiet. And he had winced when Angela had begged him to play Christmas carols on the tape player. He had caught Cary’s glance and tried to smile.
He had played the tape, just as his daughter had asked, but he hadn’t joined in any of the songs.
Now, however, he was as polite and easy as could be. He turned, catching Cary’s hand and drawing her over to meet the younger man. “Randy, this is one of my top writers, Cary Adams. Cary, Randy Skylar. And this is Cary’s son, Danny.”
Randy shook her hand and grinned broadly. “Mrs. Adams, it’s wonderful to have you.” His gaze returned quickly to his employer. “I’ve readied the suites in the rear, just as you asked. Would you like something sent up?”
“I’m afraid I have a meeting with the sales staff right away,” Jason said. “But, Cary, perhaps you and Danny would like something?”
She started to shake her head, but then she thought about the children. “Angela, why don’t you come with us to our room for a while? That way we can have Randy send us all some hot chocolate while your dad is busy.”
Angela smiled shyly. “I’d like that. May I, Dad?”
“Well, maybe Cary and Danny should have a little time to settle in first—”
“It’s fine, really,” Cary said, interrupting him. She almost added, We’re only here for Angela, but she didn’t want Angela to feel that she was a burden, because she wasn’t at all. “I’m not tired, and I can throw things in drawers in a matter of minutes.”
Jason shrugged. “Fine, then. I’ll see you all later for dinner.”
He left the three of them with Randy, who escorted them to the room Jason had reserved for her and Danny.
The door to their room was certainly ordinary looking. It was a plain wooden door that opened from the balcony that ran the length of the wall above the Christmas tree. But once that door had opened…
The room was massive, yet cheerful and warm, with its own fireplace against a wall of granite. There was a white leather sofa standing on a raspberry carpet, and beyond a curving pine bar was a full kitchen that appeared to be equipped with all manner of conveniences and utensils. There were two doors leading from the main room. Cary glanced at Randy, then strode across the parlor area to the first door. Opening it, she discovered a bedroom with a huge queen-sized bed covered by a massive quilt. Even here, there was a fireplace. And to one side of the fireplace, set into a small field of white tiles, was a huge Jacuzzi.
Cary left that room behind and hurried on to the next. It was smaller, and it was missing the Jacuzzi, but it was every bit as warm and as nice.
These rooms had been designed as family getaways, she decided. The suite provided a romantic seclusion for adults, while children could be just steps away….
The lodge was his. He had probably designed it, too, Cary thought.
She walked to the main room, an
d she must have been frowning, because Randy was quick to question her. “Is anything wrong?”
“No, no, of course not. It’s just that…” Angela was staring at her anxiously. It’s just too nice! she wanted to shout. She hadn’t really been invited on this trip—Danny had been the intended guest. And now here she was. In the absolute lap of luxury and feeling very uncomfortable.
“I’m just afraid that I’m taking space from…from another guest,” she finished lamely.
“Oh, but you’re not!” Angela assured her. “There are two of these suites here. My dad and I have the other. See—it’s through that door over there. He never rents out these rooms. Never. They’re always for guests. Really. I hope you like it.”
“I like it very much,” Cary told Angela, but her discomfort was growing. She suddenly felt very much like the governess.
“Come, Mrs. Adams,” Randy Skylar told her. “You haven’t seen the half of it yet!”
He led her through the main room and pushed open French doors that led to a balcony. From there, plate glass stretched above her. Below her, swathed in mist, was an indoor pool. A swirling whirlpool sent water cascading over a rock fall into the pool.
Beyond it, the mountains and the ski slopes were visible through the plate glass. It was breathtaking.
Cary heard laughter and looked through the mist. Some guests had left the slopes to sink into the warmth of the heated pool. Children played on the steps. And a pair of lovers, perhaps the parents, laughed together, the man in the water, the woman stretched out on the tiled rim of the pool beside him.
A knot twisted in Cary’s stomach, taking her unaware. Once she had been like that. She could close her eyes and remember when she and Richard and Danny had taken vacations and left their cares behind.
“Hot chocolate has arrived!” Randy announced. Cary turned. A young woman had appeared, pushing a cart holding a silver pitcher of hot chocolate and a plate of Oreo cookies.
“This is living!” Danny announced happily. Then he looked at his mother, remembering that he needed to be very careful with Oreos—their sugar was high, and that was bad for his diabetes. “Can I have some?”
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