by Sarah Morgan
“Your cabin is right on the boundary of our land and it backs onto a deer wintering area so you’ll probably spot white-tailed deer. You might see snowshoe hare, fox, coyote, bobcats and the odd porcupine.” He slowed as he negotiated the narrowing track. “I’ll give you time to unpack and settle in before you meet the rest of the team.”
Team? He almost laughed. They weren’t a team, they were a circus.
“Do you live with your family?”
“No. I love them, but there are limits. I converted the barn.” So that he could have his own personal brick wall to bang his head against when they drove him crazy.
He drove straight along the forest road that followed the edge of the lake and pulled up outside the little rustic gate that marked the track leading to the cabin.
“We have to walk from here.”
* * *
IT WAS PERFECT.
Kayla stepped onto the path and stood for a moment, breathing in the smell of the forest and the crisp winter air. Trees soared upward, branches drooping under the heavy burden of snow. The light was fading and the last rays of the sun glinted off the frozen surface of the lake, giving it a mystical, ethereal quality. Everything was still, the silence broken only by the occasional soft thud as snow tumbled from overloaded branches.
It felt a million miles from Manhattan. A million miles from her life.
A million miles from the all-consuming madness of Christmas.
She smiled.
She could have been the only person on the planet.
And then she heard the car door slam and remembered she wasn’t the only person.
He was here.
The chemistry was a tight knot in her stomach and the frantic race of her heart.
She’d spent the journey with her head down, trying not to think about the man in the driver’s seat next to her, trying not to think about his hands, strong and sure on the wheel or his thighs, hard and muscular, dangerously close to hers. But Jackson O’Neil wasn’t easy to ignore. And he’d kept glancing at her, as if trying to work out who she really was behind the person she projected.
He made her edgy.
Striving for normality, she reached for her phone, but he shook his head as he put her bag down next to her.
“The signal is patchy here. It’s better in the cabin. I’ll leave you for a couple of hours to catch up on whatever you need to do, then I’ll pick you up and take you to the main house. I’ll do my best to keep the experience as painless as possible.”
It seemed an odd thing to say. Or maybe he thought she was nervous with no team to back her up. “It’s a meeting. I’ve taken plenty of meetings in my time.”
“This one might be a little different.”
“Different keeps things interesting. I’m looking forward to meeting your family and getting straight down to business.” She emphasized the word business as much for her benefit as his.
She didn’t want this to be about anything other than work.
As far as she was concerned, the chemistry was as unwelcome as Santa.
Telling herself that all she had to do was ignore it, Kayla turned to pick up her bag only to find he was already holding it.
“This path can be icy. You might want to hold my hand.”
What?
Certain that holding his hand would be a fast route to the dark side, she curled her fingers into her palm. “I’ll be fine.”
“We sweep the snow but there are always a few icy patches.”
She’d rather hit an icy patch than lay a hand on any of his muscles. That was a line she definitely didn’t want to cross. “I have natural balance.” Trying to look professional, Kayla adjusted her scarf. “I do yoga and Pilates.”
“Natural balance.” He watched her with a lazy, hooded gaze. “That’s good to hear.” Turning away, he unlatched the gate, carrying her bag as if it weighed nothing. “The place should be warm. There should be plenty of logs for the fire but if you need more, let me know.”
Kayla stared at those wide, powerful shoulders now encased in a warm, winter jacket.
It was obvious he’d chopped a lot of logs in his time.
Dressed in a suit, he’d unsettled her, but with a great deal of mental effort she’d managed to box him together with all the other men in suits she met on a daily basis.
Now he’d punched his way out of that box.
Given that he had his back to her she allowed herself one indulgent, entirely feminine glance of appreciation.
Stacy was right. He was insanely hot.
And because life had a way of doling out what you didn’t want at the most inconvenient moment, he turned and caught her looking. “Something wrong?”
“Just enjoying the view.” Hoping he didn’t guess exactly which view she’d been enjoying, she kept her head down and walked quickly past him. Too quickly. Her feet made brief contact with ice. There was a horrible stomach-swooping moment where she fought gravity, arms flailing like the rotor blades on a helicopter, but it was a useless battle and she landed flat on her back in the deep snow at the side of the path.
Cold oozed through the soft wool of her coat, which she hadn’t bothered fastening, and snow enveloped her. It tumbled on her face, on her chest and trickled down her boots. Snow crystals froze to the back of her neck and dampened her hair until she was chilled right through to her skull. Somehow, in the general indignity of the fall, her smart pencil skirt had managed to ride up high on her thighs, and she could feel ice numb her legs.
Kayla lay there, pinned to the ground by shock and snowflakes while Jackson strolled across to her, maddeningly secure on the slippery path.
She gritted her teeth. “If you so much as mutter ‘I told you so,’ I’m resigning the account.”
“You should have held my hand.”
“It would have felt weird holding hands with a client.”
“More weird than lying flat on your back in front of a client with one leg in Vermont and the other in New Hampshire?” He was laughing now, and the sensual curve of his mouth made her insides curl.
“I always like to conduct at least one client meeting on my back. I find it breaks the ice, although in this case it may have been my head that’s broken the ice.”
“I warned you.” His gaze moved from her face to her legs and the look in her eyes made her feel as if someone had touched her with the flame of a blowtorch.
“I preferred snow when it was my desktop image. Wearing it doesn’t feel so good.” She was trying desperately not to laugh. Her dignity was already buried under snow; she didn’t want to make it worse by having a fit of the giggles but she couldn’t help it. A gurgle of laughter escaped. So much for good impressions. “Am I fired?”
“If I hadn’t already given you the business, I’d give it to you now.” He towered over her, six foot two of solid male muscle and raw power.
“Because you’ve seen my legs?”
“Because you laughed.” His voice was dark velvet and any desire to laugh vanished.
“I’m allowed to laugh, but if you laugh I’m on the next flight back to New York and you will never find out what I would have done with this place.”
“Noted.” He held out his hand. “Do you want help getting up or are you planning on lying there for a while?”
She wasn’t sure she trusted herself to touch him. She was used to feeling sure of herself. In control. Right now, she was neither of those things. “You wanted me to enjoy the whole Snow Crystal experience so I don’t want to rush this. And then there’s the fact that I don’t think I can get up.”
Dark brows met in a frown. “You’re hurt?”
“My pride is mortally wounded and I have frostbite in unmentionable places, but really it’s nothing to worry about. I’m looking on the bright side—at least I didn’t fall into a bear’s nest.”
“Bears live in a den, Kayla, not a nest. And they’re mostly asleep right now, although I suspect if you fell into their den they’d wake up soon enough.”
<
br /> Teeth chattering, she tried to reach his hand, but the snow was so deep she floundered.
Swearing under his breath, Jackson bent toward her. “Stop writhing or bears are going to be the least of your problems.” There was an edge to his voice and the look in his eyes should have melted the snow around them. For a moment they stared at each other, and then he slid his hands under her arms and lifted her to her feet in an easy movement that confirmed her suspicion that the guy probably lifted tree trunks above his head for entertainment. She felt the strength in his grip as he steadied her on the icy surface. She stood toe to toe with him, her eyes level with the dark stubble that shadowed his jaw and pushed him over onto the wrong side of dangerous. If she leaned forward her lips would be against that jaw, and from there it was only a short distance to his mouth.
And she was willing to bet Jackson O’Neil knew exactly what to do with that mouth.
Unsettled by how much she wanted to test that theory, she gripped his arm and her fingers encountered tough, unyielding muscle.
She glanced up, and her gaze clashed with the brilliant blue of his.
They were surrounded by forest and space and yet they were standing close to each other, so close, and she could feel the power of his thighs pressing through the softness of her coat. Her stomach swooped and fell. She felt as if she’d slipped on the ice again, only this time she was engulfed by heat, not cold.
“Er—” Shaken by the flash of chemistry, Kayla extracted herself from the safety of his grip and willed her boots not to slip. She felt unbalanced, not just on the outside but on the inside. “I’m fine.”
“You really want to do this again without help? As far as I can see there’s no part of you that isn’t soaked.”
“I can do this. I’m a determined person.”
“You’re also a wet, freezing person, and your boots aren’t designed for this.”
If only it were just her boots. “I can manage.”
“Right. That’s why your ponytail looks like an ice sculpture.” His tone was patient and he held out his hand. “Apart from my brother, you’re the only person standing in my corner on this project, so it’s in my interests to keep you alive. Hold on to me, or you’ll be lying on your back making another snow angel.”
“Snow angel?” Ignoring his hand, she scraped at her frozen ponytail, sending more snow sliding down her neck. She dreaded to think what she looked like but groomed wasn’t going to feature anywhere in the description. “What’s a snow angel?”
“It’s when you lie on your back and move your arms and legs until you leave the shape of an angel in the snow.” He looked curious. “Didn’t you ever make a snow angel when you were a child?”
In normal circumstances her smile might have slipped. Fortunately for her it was frozen into place by the cold. “We didn’t have much snow when I was a child. I grew up in England. Snow makes the national news.”
“What about snowmen? You ever build one of those?”
“I prefer my men warm-blooded.”
“Is that right?” The way he was looking at her made her suspect he could see straight into her head and read her mind.
Her teeth started to chatter, although whether it was from memories or her close encounter with a snowdrift she didn’t know. “I think I need to get out of my clothes.”
It was the wrong thing to say.
That disturbing blue gaze held hers for a moment and then dropped to her mouth and lingered there.
Chill turned to heat. “I meant my coat. I need to get out of my coat. There’s an avalanche happening somewhere between my neck and my boots. I might need the mountain rescue team. Do you have one of those round here?”
“We do. My brother’s a volunteer. Might get around to it myself if this place ever gives me some spare time.” Jackson lifted his hand to her hair and brushed away another lump of snow. “Your hair is curling.”
“Just one piece of good news after another.” Kayla shivered. “Can we go indoors so that I can take a shower and have another stab at being businesslike?”
“While you’re staying here stick to marked trails, and don’t step into thick snow unless you know what’s under it. This is a forest. There are ditches, streams, ponds, deep water—”
“I won’t be stepping into thick snow.”
But she already felt as if she were in deep water.
She wasn’t used to feeling this way.
Didn’t want to feel this way.
“I need to buy different footgear—you’re right about that.” She tried to ignore the dangerous simmer of heat low in her belly. She especially tried to ignore that part of her brain that told her coming here had been a very, very bad idea.
“Stand there while I fetch your bag.” He was back in a few strides, her bag in one hand, the other outstretched toward her.
This time she took it.
She rarely held hands with a man. When she dated, which wasn’t often, she followed a predictable routine. Dinner then home. Sometimes it was theater, dinner, then home. Occasionally it was sex. But she always woke in her own bed. Alone.
She knew she wasn’t good at intimacy, and holding hands was intimate.
Fortunately, the walk was short.
At the end of the path the forest opened into a clearing and there, nestled like something from a fairy tale, was the log cabin. A tasteful blend of wood and glass, it merged with the forest as if it had grown there.
“Oh.” Enchanted, Kayla stopped. She forgot about being wet and feeling cold. She forgot that she was holding his hand. “It’s like something from Hansel and Gretel.”
“We can provide gingerbread, but finding a cannibalistic witch might be harder.”
“It’s idyllic.”
“Glad you think so. Let’s get you inside before frostbite sets in.” He kept hold of her hand until they reached the front door. Then he released his grip on her and delved into his pocket for a set of keys. “Stand there and don’t move.”
Ignoring that instruction, Kayla stooped and unzipped her boots. “I don’t want to bring all that snow indoors.”
“There’s more on you than on your shoes.” He pushed open the door and handed her the keys.
Kayla stepped over the threshold and removed her coat, depositing half a ton of snow by the door. “I’m making a mess.”
“The place is designed for people who enjoy the outdoors.”
“What about people who are wearing the outdoors?” Kayla decided not to mention that she had snow in her bra. “Please tell me this place has a shower and unlimited hot water.”
“All that and more. I’ll show you around.”
“Thanks.” She would have preferred him to leave and give her nerves time to recover. “Where can I buy boots?”
“Brenna might have something that will fit you. If not, we have a small store in the resort that stocks a limited range.”
“Who is Brenna?”
“She runs our ski program. She’s lived around here all her life. She’ll be a good person for you to talk to if you want to get a feel for the place.”
“Right.” Unsettled by those blue eyes, Kayla took a few steps into the room and looked around her properly for the first time. “I love this.”
The main living area was double height with a cathedral ceiling and glass windows soaring up to the rafters. In the corner of the room a pretty iron staircase spiraled up to a sleeping “shelf” where a large bed was positioned to take maximum advantage of the views of the forest and lake.
“The master bedroom is downstairs, but you can lie up on the shelf and watch the lake and the wildlife. It can be used as a second bedroom, but we stipulate no kids under twelve because the only access is the spiral staircase. It’s a perfect place to sleep.”
Or a perfect place for insomniacs. At least here, when she was lying awake, she’d have a view.
Kayla wanted to climb up that staircase, lie down and not get up until January. All she’d see from that bed were glistening snowy
treetops. No overdecorated shop windows, no festively fuelled Christmas shoppers and, most of all, no happy families.
“I don’t understand why this place is vacant over the holidays. You should have been able to book it ten times over.”
“I’m hoping once you’ve worked your magic we’ll be doing that.”
Kayla paced the length of the living room. “The way you’ve built it—the way it’s designed—” she tilted back her head and looked through glass into the twilight and the forest “—it’s as if the outside is inside. It’s like being part of the forest and the mountains. You can virtually feel the snow, without any of the cold.”
“That was the idea.”
“It’s magical.” Forgetting she was wet and shivering, Kayla walked across the wooden floor, taking in all the tiny details from the basket of roughly chopped logs next to the flickering fire, to the twist of delicate lights that hung from rafters to floor turning the space into the equivalent of a fairy grotto.
Soft, deep-cushioned sofas in a deep shade of green faced each other across a rug. Tall bookshelves made from reclaimed wood lined one wall of the cabin.
It was a mixture of sumptuous luxury and cozy homeliness.
“Couples,” Kayla muttered under her breath, pacing toward what she assumed was the master bedroom while Jackson stood in the center of the room, thumbs tucked into his jeans as he watched her. “It’s romantic. This place has to be all about couples.”
And that suspicion was confirmed when she opened the door to the bedroom and saw the large log bed dressed in colors of the forest. Deep greens blended with cream and hints of silver that shone like light reflecting off crystal. Glass doors opened onto the wide deck, and she smiled as she saw the hot tub.
“Definitely couples.”
“That’s how I planned it, but we don’t seem to be attracting that segment of the market.”
“Then it’s because they don’t know about it. But they will.”
He leaned against the door frame. “You’re confident.”
“I know my job.” Kayla strolled to the glass doors and looked out onto the deck. “If you were staying here you could lie in the hot tub, stare into the snowy forest and watch the wildlife on the lake.” She could imagine that all too easily, imagine it with him, and imagining it brought the color rushing into her cheeks. “How private is it? Do people walk past here?”