Sweeter Than Chocolate: Valentine's Day Anthology

by Gina Kincade

  "Relax." He reached over and placed his hand over hers. She shivered involuntarily. Just that simple touch sent her heart racing, and her insides quivering. She couldn't imagine what would happen if he actually made a pass at her. She had to make sure that didn't happen. She would despise herself if she succumbed to a man who thought she was a liar.

  At the same time, she had to face reality. She was powerfully attracted to him. It wouldn't take much for her to fall. On the thought, she scooted a little bit to the left, not so much that he'd notice. Because she knew he was a skilled hunter. Any sign of weakness in his prey would only encourage him.

  He smiled suddenly. "Afraid of me?"

  "Don't be silly." But she was afraid of his smile. It could bring down any woman.

  She cast about for a fresh topic, her gaze landing on the two ski bags sitting at the front of the limo's cabin.

  "What size is your sister?"

  He eyed Alessandra head to toe. More slowly than necessary. "She's about the same size as you. 5'9" or so?"

  He'd guessed right. There was no need to confirm it. "You seem bitter about your sister," she remarked. "Is it her, or do you dislike all females?"

  "I like women." He smiled slowly. "Very much. As long as they're real, not fake."

  She caught her breath. Had he just issued a challenge to her? Or a warning? Did he think he held all the cards? That he could both seduce her, and unmask her?

  She might need to push back, just a bit.

  Casually, she dropped her hand onto his thigh. He was wearing stretch ski pants, through which she could instantly feel both heat and muscle. She let her fingers curve slightly into the muscle, but she resisted the urge to stroke. She was going for subtlety here, not blatant seduction. Let him wonder, as long as he was enticed.

  "I wonder if the right woman could make you like fake," she murmured. She knew she was playing with fire. Raul was obviously an experienced man, who might be able to turn the tables on her easily. But she could feel boldness rising in her like sap would rise in the trees come spring.

  His thigh muscles twitched under her hand. Then he reached down, picked up her hand, and moved it onto the seat between them. "You could tempt Satan himself," he said in a hoarse voice, "but I'm not interested in playing whatever game you've started."

  She swallowed the rejection, determined to carry on. "Sure you are," she said. Her voice came out in a sultry purr she barely recognized. "But we can postpone this until you're feeling more confident."

  He laughed out loud. "It could be fun to show you my confidence. But we've arrived at the ski area."

  Alessandra looked out the window, chagrined that she hadn't even noticed the limo coming to a stop. Maybe she wasn't in control as much as she'd thought.

  To her left she could see a long, two-storied rustic building, the ski lodge no doubt. Tall, forested mountains with snaking trails of white snow rose beyond the lodge. Colorfully clad skiers were already walking from the parking lot, their skis over one shoulder, boots over another, and poles in their hands. A few skiers headed for two lifts visible at the base—an enclosed gondola, and a 4-seat open chairlift.

  Excitement thrummed within her. The sky was pale blue with a morning sun that caused diamonds of light to bounce off the pristine snow. She hadn't skied in years, but it was a sport she loved. She could only hope it was a skill that once learned, was not forgotten.

  Raul opened the door and bounded out of the car. "I only brought the limo so we wouldn't have to park," he said. "Let's get our boots on in the lodge and hit the slopes before the crowds arrive."

  "Sounds good." Alessandra exited through the door held open by the driver. "I'll have to check my equipment though."

  "No problem. They have a good shop inside if you need adjustments."

  But the boots fit fine, and they were, of course, fitted to the brightly colored skis that belonged to his sister. Everything was in pristine condition, and, in fact, looked brand new. Alessandra was pleased with the svelte one-piece snowsuit in bright cherry red. She clipped the belt around her waist, and placed the helmet on her head. Despite being sleekly designed, the helmet was too loose. She pulled it off. "I'll wear the hat instead." Naturally, his sister's bag held whatever items a skier might need.

  She pulled on the gaily patterned ski hat, and Raul's gaze flared over her. "Cute," he said. "The helmet is safer."

  "Not when it doesn't fit." She pulled on the expensive gloves she'd found in the bag.

  "Ready?" With a shrug about the helmet, Raul grinned at her, and she could see he was as excited about the day of sport as she was. She hoped she wouldn't hold him back with her lesser ability.

  "Let's go," she said.

  "Are you okay if we go straight to the top?" Raul began skating toward the lifts, moving smoothly over the flat terrain. "That's where the gondola goes."

  "What level are the trails at the top?"

  "Anything from black diamond expert to beginner green. Your choice."

  "Let's go, then. I need to warm up, but I should be okay on the blue intermediate trails." She thought she'd been able to ski most anything as a child, but her memories weren't always accurate, so she'd better start out slow.

  Raul didn't push her, and she was grateful for his tact. They did several runs on the blue, and then he stopped at a trail fork where a sign marked a black diamond, one of the expert slopes. "You want to try it?" He gestured with his pole.

  Alessandra looked down on the steep, mogul covered trail. Sadly, she shook her head. If she'd ever skied on that type of terrain, she'd forgotten the moves. Nor could she afford an injury. She had a limited amount of time in Austria before her funds ran out, and she couldn't spend that time nursing a broken leg.

  Raul looked thoughtful when she declined the trail, but he didn't say anything, merely led her off to another blue. "This trail," he said, "has a small jump. Are you up for that?"

  "Sure." She couldn't say no to everything.

  When he swished to a stop at a broad trail head, she pulled up beside him, glad that her skis were basically responding to her moves. Raul was a far better skier, and she could have watched him all day, his upper body straight and still as his hips and knees did all the work as gracefully as if he were water flowing downhill.

  He pointed down the long slope. "The jump is steep over here on the left, and it gets gradually shallower as it goes to the right."

  She couldn't see the slope below the jump off point, so she'd have to take it on a wing and a prayer. But Raul had been watching her ski. He wouldn't set her on a course she couldn't manage. She trusted him that much. He'd been a good ski partner, staying with her when he obviously could have attempted more challenging terrain. Nor did he ski off ahead of her, showing off, when he could have done that as well. On the lift, he was an entertaining companion, talking about current events, or things she might want to see or do in Austria.

  All in all, he'd surprised her, never acting as he had with his outburst at the ball. He didn't call her 'Lessie', but he did manage to say her name a couple of times, whether or not he really believed it was hers.

  "I'll take my chances on the right," she said, smiling at him. "Last one to the bottom is a girl!"

  "Hey, you can't lose on that basis—" he called after her, but she was already off, anticipating that lift of air that was so exhilarating on a jump. She headed straight for the jump, gaining momentum, thrilling to her speed, and she was in good form when she hit the air.

  Then she saw a cannonball barreling down the slope off to her left, a crescendo of speed that lifted off in a marvelous burst of power. She simply had to watch him land, knowing it would be beautiful. And it was. The moment when he hit the ground in a shower of snow, and swirled to a graceful stop thrilled her down to her toes. Of course, her lapse of attention to her own skiing had been costly. She crossed her tips, tumbled over her skis, and slid to a stop just shy of the woods.

  It had been worth it.

  The power and grace of that
man skiing was enough to take her breath away. She began to giggle. Of course, whatever breath she'd had left had definitely been knocked out by her fall. She allowed herself to rest on her back for a moment, checking to see if she'd been hurt. Her skis had both popped off, so that was good. Her poles were still around her wrists, secured by the straps. All in all—

  A shadow darkened the air above her. Raul. He must have seen her fall and skied over. He was stepping out of his skis, flinging away his poles, and in general looking and behaving like a crazy man. Her giggles intensified. What was he planning to do?

  He yanked off his helmet and knelt down on one knee beside her. "Alessandra—"

  At the moment he spoke her name, he seemed to notice she was alive and well. He frowned down at her. "What in hell is so funny?"

  "I fell." She laughed up at him. "Serves me right."

  "Probably," he growled. He was still kneeling over her, his brow furrowed. "What the hell happened? You should have been able to handle that. You had a great lift off."

  "I was watching you!" She laughed again at the surprise on his face. "Lost my concentration—"

  Slowly, as if it took a moment for her admission to sink in, he smiled. "I guess I can't complain about that."

  "You'd better not, you ungrateful wretch." Without thinking, she lifted a handful of powdery snow and flung it at him. He ducked just in time, but a few white flakes landed in his dark hair, and sparkled there, as if happy just to be touching him.

  "Why you—" He leaned over, picked up his own fistful of snow and held it over her. "You don't want to challenge a champion snowball thrower."

  "Champion? Is there an Olympics for that sport in Austria?"

  "I don't know about that," he admitted. He shook a few snowflakes down onto her red jacket, threatening her. "But that was my title in third grade."

  "Oooh, I'm scared—" She laughed up at him again, loving the moment of lying here in the snow with this handsome man looking down at her, the sun shining around him, and his broad shoulders filling her world. It was a once in a lifetime moment. She felt her laughter die as he stared, his expression changing—from mock threatening laughter—to lust. The heat in his eyes scorched her, wiping out her laughter.

  He was going to kiss her. He held her gaze, his eyes gleaming, as he leaned down, shaking off one glove, and then the other. The handful of snow fell to the ground, forgotten.

  "Alessandra," he murmured in a low, intimate voice. He placed one hand on her cheek, his fingers cold on the outside, but warm within. "Just like I thought at the ball, you look like a Valentine’s Day gift."

  "Not something glittery and fake, I hope?" She couldn't shake the knowledge that he thought she was living under a false name in Austria, masquerading as someone she was not.

  "No." He shook his head slightly, a half-smile on his lips. "Something sparkly and fun. Something unexpected." His voice went even lower. "Something I want to unwrap."

  He closed the gap between them and his hot mouth covered hers.

  The touch electrified her, as if her laughter, and the sparkling snow, and the brilliant sunshine had all been bottled up and passed into her through his kiss. Her lips parted instantly, to taste more of him. She tasted winter and heat and strength and, most of all, man. His lips were firm, molding hers, savoring them. She felt the roughness of his chin, and the cold of his cheeks.

  Then, best of all, the warmth of his tongue. He ventured into her mouth gently, but surely. He knew what he was doing. And she responded instantly, welcoming him, tasting this more intimate part of him. Her mind began to cloud with pleasure as she fell deeper into the kiss. His clean scent of fire in winter enveloped her.

  This was the man she'd first met at the ball. A man who'd been interested in getting to know her. A man who'd looked at her as if she were special. A man who knew how to hold her tenderly. Dreams swirled in her head as his heat pressed her into the cold snow, his body hard even under the layers of clothes, his mouth plundering as if he couldn't get enough. His tongue plunged electricity deep into her body and she wriggled to get closer to him where it counted.

  In the background, she vaguely heard the sounds of skiers whizzing past, some calling to each other and some calling Raul's na—

  Her eyes flew open. Who was calling Raul's name?

  Several clicks sounded around her. Clicks? She looked around. They were being photographed. People were calling Raul's name to get him to turn toward them. What the heck?

  "Damn." Raul rolled off her and rose to his feet in one swift movement. "I didn't mean for that to happen—" He paused suddenly, as if he'd said too much.

  Alessandra sat up, all pleasure gone. He didn't mean to kiss her? Was he already regretting it? Damn, she'd been a fool. How could she have forgotten so easily that he ran hot and cold? Just because the kiss had warmed her inside and out, practically turning her life upside down, that didn't mean it meant anything to him. She'd read too much into it.

  He reached a hand down to help her to her feet. "Are you all right?" There was nothing but concern in his tone. "You suddenly look upset."

  "I got up too quickly." She bent down to pick up her skis, hiding her face. Luckily, she'd slid into plenty of powder at the edge of the trail, and her ski brakes had worked, stopping her skis near her.

  She sneaked a glance at Raul. His cheeks were red. Was that from the cold? Or something else? His hair was mussed but, again, that could have been from his helmet, or had her hands done that?

  "We're near the place I thought we'd eat lunch," Raul said. He ran a hand through his hair, and leaned over to pick up his helmet. "This would be a good time to stop for a break, okay?"

  "Sure." She was a little shaken, and she tried to attribute it to the fall, not the kiss. No good could come from romanticizing that kiss.

  She laid out her skis parallel to each other so she could step into them. Raul buckled on his helmet, picked up his poles, and snapped on his skis, while she was still getting organized. Of course, she hadn't done this drill in a long time.

  By the time she finished and looked up to signal her readiness, his face was cool again, that mask firmly in place that showed the smooth control he'd shown at the ball. She sighed to herself.

  "By the way," he said, "Lessie was an excellent skier."

  Her mouth fell open. Anger flashed through her. "I moved to California. I never skied again after leaving Austria."

  "I thought you were rich?" His dark eyes pierced her. "There are plenty of ski resorts in the U.S. Even in California."

  She gripped her poles until her hands hurt. "My mother was determined to forget everything about her life in Austria. Stop trying to trip me up. I'll never be able to ski at your level of expertise, but I enjoyed my run, and I'd like to continue enjoying my day." She couldn't keep the bitterness out of her voice. He hadn't brought her skiing so that they could spend time together. No, it was just another test in his never-ending attempt to expose her as a fraud.

  Chapter Ten

  Raul was thinking about that kiss as he led the way to the ski lodge built high in the mountains. He felt a little guilty about making that crack about Lessie. But he had to maintain some distance. Alessandra was like a drug to him. The more he saw her, the closer he got, the more potent her lure. He had to be sure he didn't fall too far.

  Smoke poured from a chimney located at the back of the lodge, which had been built to look like a chalet. A tiny golden log cabin in front of the building scented the air with the aroma of waffles cooking. Raul hadn't been sure if he'd stop here for lunch or not. There would be more paparazzi at the bottom of the ski area, since only the skiers could reach this lodge.

  But he liked this lodge. It had a large outdoor seating area facing south, where they could enjoy the sunshine. He told himself that the paparazzi that did make the effort to come here would be more dedicated to their cause. But a sense of unease snaked through him, as they stepped out of their skis and locked them up.

  That kiss had turned the t
ables on him a bit. Alessandra had seemed so innocent lying on the ground laughing up at him. Her white ski hat patterned with a red and blue Scandinavian design had framed her beautiful blue eyes and smiling features. Could she really be a manipulative con artist, out to claim an inheritance that wasn't hers?

  She'd about killed him this morning when she put her hand on his thigh in the limo. With one move she'd managed to surprise him, arouse him, and confound him. How could he be so attracted to someone he thought was a liar and a cheat? Of course, his cock was not known for its smarts, but still, he'd always had ethical standards of some sort.

  He followed Alessandra into the lodge and the familiar racket of heavy boots, upraised voices and excited children, greeted him. "Would you like to eat inside or out?" he asked.

  A light flashed in Alessandra's face and she blinked. Paparazzi. Irritation flashed through Raul, until he remembered that he wanted the attention. It was vital to his plan. But he definitely felt conflicted. A part of him wanted a cozy lunch with just him and Alessandra.