Chapter Two
Laura ran up to her room to get her coat with the promise of meeting Kamari at the ice skating rink in ten minutes. As she waited for the elevator to climb to the executive suites, Laura wondered if Kamari’s rooms were on the same floor.
She refused to think about the small, very slight, flip her stomach did and resolutely ignored it. Because this was all business. And since when was she interested in him? All right, that was the wrong question.
It wasn’t a matter of being interested or finding him attractive or even of wanting to know him better. She did find him attractive—she had eyes attached to her brain, after all, and Tyler Kamari was a very handsome man with a brilliant mind. It was a matter of not doing any of the above because it was a supremely bad idea. Period. End of story.
Quickly keying her door open, Laura grabbed her heavy black wool coat with a black faux fur trim. She double-checked that her gloves were still in the pockets before leaving. Part of her wanted to take more time, to manufacture an excuse to leave Kamari waiting. Not out of some warped sense of letting the man wait, but because she had inexplicable butterflies in her stomach.
Which was ridiculous, of course, because their relationship was strictly business. No matter how attractive she found him, theirs wasn’t that sort of relationship. She didn’t need messy in her life. She liked the orderly path she’d laid out for herself.
And if she wanted a date…well… Laura frowned as the elevator doors closed behind her and began their descent to the lobby. She stared at herself in the shiny doors. Best not to think about dates. Or lack thereof.
Plastering a smile on her face, she exited into the lobby and waved at several of the employees. Some had been hired from Mount Noël itself and the surrounding area, but others, those already with hotel management experience, had been transferred.
Gideon Hotel’s prided itself in its friendly atmosphere, and Laura had seen that friendliness in action. Not just with her, whom everyone already knew, but with their guests.
Walking briskly across the lobby, she nodded to the doorman and turned for the skating rink. Ordering her thoughts, Laura wondered what Kamari meant when he’d said Sabrina wanted more atmosphere. How did you create atmosphere over an ice skating rink?
Kamari leaned against the waist-high railing that circled the rink, clearly waiting for her. His arms were again folded over his chest, but despite the freezing temperatures he wore no hat or gloves. The late afternoon sun continued to descend behind the Vermont mountains, and the bright modern lights now lighted the entire area.
Kamari grinned when he spotted her and straightened. His long strides closed the distance between them, and Laura had the distinct impression he’d wanted to take her hand and tug her toward the skate rental booth.
As they moved from the booth toward a pair of benches closer to the rink, Laura looked around the area. “Sabrina wanted more atmosphere? Huh.”
Laura laced up her skates and hoped she remembered how to move in them. She hadn’t been ice skating since high school. Oh, she hoped she didn’t fall and look like a blob floating on the ice.
“She was very specific about that—not what to do, but that it needed something.” He paused and stood. “Well, something. She didn’t say what.”
Laura had saved money on the rink, that was true. Maybe she should’ve gone a bit more? Added something other than the lights and the hidden speakers?
“It’s proving popular,” she said as she walked the few paces from the benches to the rink opening.
“For a last-minute addition to the plans, I agree.” Kamari pushed off and skated out to the center of the ice with no hesitation.
Laura took a deep breath and did the same, somewhat amazed she had kept her balance and managed not to look like a complete idiot.
“And,” he added with a grin as she spun to a stop next to him, “it’s a good location we chose.”
She laughed at the compliment, feeling a ball of tension loosen within her. They’d chosen the location one night as they’d sat in his office, the remains of their Thai dinner pushed to one side. It was unusual for her to be there, his office instead of hers, but the skating rink was a last-minute addition.
It had been the first time he’d asked her on a date. She’d been tempted, but his question had caught her off guard and her first reaction was to say no. Later, after she’d berated herself for declining a date with a handsome, funny, and very smart man, Laura decided it was better that she had said no.
They still had to work together
Kamari clasped her hand and nodded. “Let’s skate around. See what we can see from inside the rink.”
His smile was a little goofy, but Laura found herself returning it. And she didn’t really mind him holding her hand, either. His fingers were long and tapered, and curled around hers almost perfectly. As they pushed off, hand in hand, she wondered where he’d learned to skate and almost asked.
But that was a personal question and this wasn’t a date. This was an adding-atmosphere-to-the-skating-rink-business, um…business.
They skated around the oblong rink twice, and Laura grew more confident with each movement. Maybe skating was like riding a bike.
The sun had completely set now, and the wind whipped cold and brisk along the valley. Laura fancied she scented snow in the air, or maybe that was the crispness of the mountains. It smelled so different here than it did in New York. Well, that was a poor comparison. But here it smelled fresh and cool, and made her want to stand still, watch the twinkling stars, and do nothing but breathe deeply.
“I think we should add something with the lights,” Kamari said. “More than just this functionality but something interesting. And Christmassy.”
When she looked up at him, nodding in agreement, he wasn’t looking around the rink, but straight at her. Laura missed a step and stumbled. His hand tightened on hers, and his other one snapped out to catch her.
Her heart pounding, Laura waved him off and tried to smile. “Thank you,” she said then stronger, “yes.” She cleared her throat and stepped away just enough to breathe again.
“What do you think about taking out the metal enclosure?” she asked and glided over to the thin green metal railing.
He followed her, coming to a smooth stop next to her. “I was thinking the same thing.”
Again when she looked up, his attention was directed completely on her. How had she never noticed how deep a blue his eyes were? Or how she seemed to want to fall into his gaze? Or where this propensity for waxing poetic had suddenly come from?
“How about stone?” he was saying, and Laura focused on his words. “Instead of this metal railing, we can use stone. Make it look like a Victorian pond.”
Grinning widely, Laura nodded. She looked around the area in question, and instead of seeing the plain metal railing, she saw thick gray stone set waist high with a short ledge. Instead of the random openings, or people ducking under the railing, there’d have to be set entrances and exits.
“Gingerbread cookie, Ms. Dixon?”
Laura looked up at a young woman who carried a tray strapped around her neck. The scent of freshly baked gingerbread suddenly made her stomach growl and Laura immediately agreed. She’d forgotten they were a part of the ice skating experience.
“Thanks,” Kamari said and accepted one, immediately biting into it.
She watched him chew the delicious treat even as she polished off two of the gingerbread men of her own. And damn it, all she could hear was Never eat in front of a man.
Clearing her throat, Laura pushed that thought aside and dusted the crumbs from her gloved fingers. It seemed she did that a lot in the last hour or two—clear her throat to regain some semblance of control over her emotions around this man.
She’d worked with him for months, and she’d turned him down so many times. Why did this feel different? Was it because they’d never gone ice skating together? That made little sense. What did ice skating have to do with her wil
dly shifting feelings? Was it Christmas? They’d worked on a Christmas hotel, for goodness’ sake.
Laura looked at the gingerbread cookie woman through narrowed eyes. Maybe it was something in the gingerbread.
Maybe she really was losing her mind. Or…oh no. No, this couldn’t be it. Maybe Sabrina was right! Maybe she did need a vacation.
The wind kicked up again and she shivered. Frankly, Laura preferred to blame this change in her feelings for Kamari on the gingerbread. It made everything so much easier.
She shoved her fingers into her pockets, but now that they weren’t moving, she felt every degree of the cold night. Several more people had joined them: a boy and girl in the center of the ice spinning madly, three couples leisurely skating around the perimeter, and a small group of kids on the opposite side.
Laura had barely noticed them. Kamari took up her entire attention.
He was self-assured and confident, but not to the point of arrogance. He wasn’t overly muscled, but possessed a lean strength that drew her to him. And his mind, oh, his ideas for her Mount Noël project, had been perfection, and Laura found herself drawn to his brilliance.
Swallowing hard, she shook away those thoughts.
Business.
“Come on,” Kamari said and held out his hand again. “Let’s get you some hot chocolate.”
Before Laura could agree, and hot chocolate sounded just perfect, he suddenly yanked her against him and skidded several feet away.
Startled, her heart pounding for two very distinct reasons, Laura looked up at him. But it was a teenage boy leaning over the railing that caught her attention.
“Are you all right?” she asked automatically.
“Yeah,” the teen said, sounding disgruntled. “Fine.” Then he turned and clumsily made his way back to his friends.
“You okay?” Kamari asked. He had yet to release her.
Laura nodded, the boy forgotten. “Yeah.” She cleared her throat again and cursed the tell-tale sign. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Good!” He retook her hand and tugged her gently into a smooth skate as they made for the benches closest to the rental both. “Then let’s go get that hot chocolate. Or a hot toddy. Lady’s choice.”
“Maybe a hot toddy,” Laura said and wondered where that reckless agreement had come from.
Sitting back on the bench, flush from the cold and skating, and certainly not from the closeness of Kamari, Laura unlaced her skates and retrieved her shoes. Her ankles felt stiff for a couple steps, and she just managed to stop herself from twisting her ankle and tumbling into Kamari, because she didn’t think she could handle feeling his body so close to hers again. Not in so short a time.
They didn’t touch as they walked back to the hotel lobby, and Laura cursed herself when she realized she’d almost reached for his hand. Honestly, a few minutes skating with him hand in hand and now she wanted to hold his hand all the time?
She was losing it.
What she needed to do was take a step back and remind herself that they were merely business acquaintances. Nothing more, nothing less, but definitely nothing more.
Damn. She’d told herself there was nothing going on between her and Kamari so many times in the last hour or two, she needed that tattooed to the back of her hand.
A small group of carolers stood off to one side and Laura smiled, some of her tension seeping away as they sang “A Holly, Jolly Christmas.” She hadn’t realized she’d stopped to listen until Kamari began humming along.
Surprised, Laura looked up at him.
“Christmas is my favorite time of year,” he admitted with a grin.
“Mine, too.” But she eyed him warily, trying to figure him out.
“I remember,” he said, and that grin changed. It went from a friendly smile to a slightly wickeder one that curled through her body with a delicious heat she wasn’t able to ignore.
What was with her? Laura looked down at her hand. And how much would a tattoo hurt? She cleared her throat again, hating that she did that, and forced her gaze back to his.
An enigma, Kamari was, and that bothered her. Laura liked to think she knew her men—not that he was hers—but she couldn’t quite put her finger on what type Kamari was.
The song ended and he gestured for the hotel lobby again. “Hot toddy?”
“Sure,” she said and consciously refused to clear her throat. But she did stuff her hands in her pockets and fall into a long stride next to him.
“We’re just very friendly business associates,” Kamari said as the sliding doors, edged with mahogany wood for a more traditional look, opened.
How he managed to read her mind, Laura refused to ask. Instead she looked up at him and raised an eyebrow. Her lips curved in a slight smile and she joked, “You’re not fooling me.”
In the middle of the lobby, seeming uncaring of anyone around them, he turned to her. “I don’t want to fool you,” he said softly, too softly for very friendly business associates. “But I do want to go with you to something that isn’t a meeting. And I’m trying to figure out how to convince you that it isn’t such a bad idea.”
Before he’d even finished, Laura shook her head. “You know how I feel about coworkers dating. Especially people like us where we work together on pretty big projects. If something happened and things went bad…”
She trailed off but didn’t need to finish her sentence. In the pockets of her coat, her fingers curled around themselves, and she knew it wasn’t for warmth. It was to keep her mouth shut. She didn’t want to say anything more.
And it wasn’t because she was afraid she’d give in and agree to a date with him. It wasn’t.
“That’s not going to happen,” he insisted.
Taking a deep breath, he grinned down at her, and Laura promptly forgot how to breathe. This wasn’t his normal smile, the business one, or even the joking one she’d occasionally seen. This was…Laura didn’t know what this was. Illegal in all fifty states, probably.
“We’re adults, Laura,” he continued, and she thanked the wish-list Santa atop the Christmas tree that he hadn’t noticed her momentary distraction.
“And I’m sure we can figure out how to have a proper date. If it doesn’t work out”—he shrugged but didn’t take his gaze from hers—“then things will go back to normal. It’s Christmas—you never know.”
“One date. And then we’ll see.” The words slipped out, and Laura had to resist the childish urge to clamp a hand over her mouth. Where had that agreement come from? It was the damn smile, she knew it. Illegal, it was, and she’d fallen for it.
Chapter Three
Cynthia’s Matchmaking Services:
Step One: Make reservation at best restaurants in area. Always use the on-site staff to help. (Promise them cookies if need be.) Threaten if necessary.
Note: Laura doesn’t see how perfect Tyler is for her. The woman is blind. She’s lucky I’m here to help. The people at Gideon International don’t know how lucky they are to have me. When Tyler hinted he needed help getting through to Laura, I was ready for the challenge. I’m keeping notes for posterity.
On their twentieth anniversary, maybe I’ll do a little show-and-tell about their love story. Maybe I’ll ask that one of their kids have Cynthia as a middle name.
Laura stared at the hotel room closet. She’d never really been one to complain about not having a thing to wear, but suddenly her wardrobe looked woefully inadequate. The butterflies in her stomach didn’t help with her decision making, either.
Why oh why had she said yes? How had that word slipped out? What possessed her mouth to accept when her brain was busy screaming no? Or maybe that was the problem: Her brain hadn’t been screaming no. Her brain had melted with Kamari’s seductive smile.
Since when was she so susceptible to a seductive smile?
Laura took a deep breath. Too late now. How foolish would she feel if she called him and cancelled? He’d expect a reason, and the one patented excuse she had—work—wouldn’t f
ly with him.
She cleared her throat and looked once more at her closet’s offerings. She had business suits and a couple nice dresses for the after-hours functions she’d attended. They were all nice and pretty and perfect for schmoozing.
But they didn’t seem right for tonight’s dinner. She sighed and shook her head in frustration.
This wasn’t the first time she’d struggled with what to wear. Every time she tried to pick out an outfit for any special occasion, the insidious little comments returned. Oh, you have such a pretty face if only you’d lose a few pounds. Or I have the perfect diet for you.
Right now, Harry Potter’s wand would come in handy; surely there was a spell for losing weight. A simple wave of the wand, a few words, and poof! Magical size 6. And just in time for this…dinner. No, meeting. Yes, meeting. A meeting with dinner.
Which was not a date. Seriously, no. And if a little traitorous voice in the back of her head laughed at her protestations, Laura ignored it.
All right, maybe it was a date. And maybe those were butterflies swirling in her stomach like a maelstrom. And maybe she didn’t like any of her clothes because she couldn’t remember the last time she’d dressed up for anything not business related.
Stepping back, Laura took a deep breath and closed her eyes. What she needed was help. But all the friends she could think of would say the same thing: Go out and have fun!
It wasn’t that she didn’t think she’d have fun with Kamari. It was, well, it was that he was a business associate. And she didn’t do coworkers.
Her cheeks heated at her own thoughts and images of kissing Kamari’s lips played in very hot detail behind her eyelids. Even in her own head she needed to censure herself. This was getting ridiculous.
Backup. What she needed was backup. Or at least a friend who’d been there. What she needed to do was call Sabrina. Not only was the other woman her boss but her friend, and Laura needed a friend who understood her dilemma and wouldn’t dismiss her fears.
Christmas Curvy: A Curvy Girl's Holiday Fling Page 2