by Sarah Morgan
“But—”
“We’re in trouble, Kayla.” He sounded tired. “Serious trouble. I’ve ploughed as much into it as I can, but we’re at the point where it has to start paying its way or we’ll lose it.”
“Lose it?” She absorbed that. “You mean lose the business?”
“Yes. Only it isn’t just the business, it’s their home. It’s been their home for generations. If we’re forced to sell, Alice and Walter will have to move out of the house they’ve lived in all their lives, and so will my mother.” His fingers gripped the wheel, his knuckles white. “When my father died, I came back to support my family and help run the company. I didn’t expect to have to save it. I had no idea how desperate things were. When I started to dig through the numbers, it was like a horror story.”
She stared at him. “How much of a horror story?”
“Stephen King crossed with Hitchcock?” The corner of his mouth flickered, and she felt a rush of admiration that he could retain his sense of humor in the face of so much pressure.
She felt an inexplicable urge to reach out and offer comfort, and the urge shocked her because she wasn’t a tactile person. She’d trained herself to keep her distance. She didn’t form bonds.
To make sure she didn’t do something impulsive like touch him, she clutched her laptop bag. “You didn’t suspect?”
“I had no reason to. Whenever I asked how things were, I was told they were fine. I didn’t question it. Why would I? The business has been going forever.”
“Do you know what went wrong?”
“My father made some bad decisions. And then there were the decisions he should have made but didn’t. And the ramifications of that weakness on his part are huge.”
Kayla thought of Alice knitting at the same table all her life. Of Elizabeth who had come here and never left.
An old wound ached deep inside her. “Do they know?”
“They know things are bad. They don’t know how bad, or maybe they do know and just can’t face the truth. They’re scared. Afraid to make changes in case the whole thing comes tumbling down. My grandfather is looking for someone to blame, and right now he blames me for building the spa and the log cabins. Throwing away money when we needed every dollar.”
“Those are the things that make Snow Crystal special.”
“You know that. I know that. But they don’t know that because right now we don’t have heads on beds, so it looks as if I was wrong. I tell my grandfather they were a good investment, and he asks me to show him the bookings.”
“If they’re not booked it’s because people don’t know about them.”
“So tell me how to make that happen.” His tone was urgent. “Tell me what we need to do to get the sort of exposure you got for Adventure Travel. If this goes south, I lose everything my family built. And I’m not going to let that happen, so don’t sit there and tell me you’re leaving.”
Pressure added to stress. Kayla felt as if she were swimming through thick mud. “I—I’m not experienced with family businesses.”
“But you know how to get your message out there in a noisy media world, so do it.” His gaze held hers. “I need you to do what you do best, Kayla.”
Despite the mess she’d made, he still wanted her help.
Kayla clenched her hands in her lap. Her fingers were so cold she could no longer feel them.
It would mean staying.
It would mean getting to know his family. This job couldn’t be done without getting close to them. Without understanding them. Without winning them over.
How the hell was she going to do that?
The thought of walking back into that kitchen and being confronted by the O’Neils made her want to run. “If I stay, I’d need to talk to them individually. It might be easier to win them round that way.”
“That makes sense. One on one. And you need to know more about Snow Crystal. Spend time as a tourist.”
“Fine.” She closed her eyes. This was madness. She should be handing the account over to someone else. Someone who loved Christmas and families. She wasn’t the right person for the job, but Jackson already had his phone in his hand and was texting someone.
“We’ll start first thing tomorrow. I’ll pick you up at nine.”
“I’m awake at five.” She spoke without thinking and saw his eyebrows lift. “I’m a morning person. I never sleep late. I don’t like lying in bed.”
His brief glance changed the atmosphere in the car.
Kayla turned her head away quickly, wondering how chemistry could exist in the middle of so much tension.
He was the sexiest man she’d ever met, and the fact that she kept noticing scared her. When it came to her heart, her instincts were as sophisticated as any virus software, detecting a possible threat and deleting it before it could threaten her or do damage.
Right now those instincts were flashing up red warning lights in her head.
“It’s still dark at five.” His voice was husky. “We’ll make it eight, and I’ll buy you breakfast in the forest. The Chocolate Shack serves the best hot chocolate and maple waffles in Vermont.”
It sounded more like a date than a business meeting, and she felt a dangerous curl of heat low in her belly.
She sat still as Jackson eased the car forward and drove up the snow-covered track that led to the far end of the frozen lake and her cabin. Then he pulled in and switched off the engine.
“Thanks for the lift.” Desperate to escape, she reached for the door handle, but his hand closed over her shoulder.
“Wait. You haven’t eaten. Get rid of your laptop and I’ll buy you dinner.”
“No, thank you. I’d rather go back to the cabin. I have work to do.”
The thought of eating dinner with this man terrified her.
And he knew.
She could see it in his eyes. Knew he could see right through the layers of protection she’d spun between herself and the world.
She was about to open the door and escape when he lifted his hand and touched her cheek. “You still haven’t told me what happened back there.” His voice was soft, all trace of anger gone. “Why did you run? You could have slipped and broken something.”
She could have told him she was already broken. She could have told him that Kayla Green had shattered into a million tiny pieces at the age of thirteen, and when she’d stuck herself back together she hadn’t looked anything like the original version.
She could have told him that, but she didn’t, because she knew that when a person bought something, they didn’t want to know it was damaged. She looked good as new on the outside, and that was what mattered.
He wasn’t interested in the real Kayla Green.
“I thought it best to leave. Thanks for the lift. I can walk from here. I’ll see you in the morning.” She slid out of the car, keen to put as much distance between herself and Jackson as possible. The moment her feet touched the snow she felt the cold ooze through her already-soaked shoes, but she knew the icy feeling inside her didn’t come from the freezing temperatures or the thick layer of snow that blanketed the forest around her. The source was much deeper than that.
Pressed up against feelings she normally avoided, Kayla felt a flash of panic.
Who would have thought that a sleepy little resort in Vermont could have ripped at her like this?
Jackson appeared in front of her, his powerful shoulders blocking her escape. “Surely you’re not planning to walk this path alone after what happened last time?”
“I’ll be fine.”
His muscular physique formed a sold barrier between her and her forest sanctuary. “You’ve suffered enough punishment for one day. I’ll walk you to the door.” He took her hand, and Kayla felt the warmth and strength of his fingers as they closed over hers.
“This is definitely breaking the client-agency code.”
“There’s a code? Damn. You probably should have mentioned that earlier.” His tone was light and he tightened his gr
ip. “On the other hand, I’ve never been big on rules and codes.”
It was all too easy to believe that. He was a man who knew what he wanted, his toughness concealed under layers of velvety charm. She’d seen it in her offices that day in New York, and she’d seen it a moment ago when he’d refused to let her leave.
Desperate, she looked up at him. His jaw was strong and darkened by a day of stubble, his mouth a sensual curve in a face that made her want to revisit her own rules and codes. Never before had she been remotely tempted to kiss one of her clients, but neither had she ever walked out of a meeting. Apparently it was a day of firsts.
She rarely thought about sex, didn’t have time to think about it, let alone do it, but she was thinking about it now. Hot sex, with no ties or promises, no past or future, just a moment of raw physical passion. And with Jackson O’Neil you just knew that moment would be good.
Heat rushed across her skin and desire uncurled inside her.
“I’m pretty big on rules and codes. And tomorrow I’m buying all the gear in the store. Any ice-walking-shoe-boot things that might help keep me upright.” For the rest of her stay, she was going to be professional. No more falling on her back in snowdrifts. No more falling apart in meetings. That was a one-off lapse that wasn’t going to happen again.
“We have some gear we can probably lend you. A decent coat and some ski pants. And some ice-walking-shoe-boot things.” That mouth flickered at the corners and then he reached across and opened the gate.
The cabin glowed warm and welcoming in the darkness. The trees by the front door were studded with twinkling lights and the same tiny lights were twisted around the windows.
The cold numbed her face and seared her lungs. Her toes were freezing through her soaked shoes. She knew it was nothing that a hot shower wouldn’t cure. The cold inside her? That was going to be harder to fix.
As they reached the door, she pulled out her keys. “I’ll see you in the morning.” She tried to tug her hand away from his but he tightened his grip, hauling her against him.
“Are you going to tell me what happened tonight? Because I sense it was personal.”
The fact that he’d noticed her reaction made her feel as if she’d been caught sleepwalking naked.
“I’d like to forget about tonight and start again.”
“Yeah, I get that. But starting again might be easier if you tell me what went wrong in the first place. You were in a panic.”
There was a soft thud as snow slid from the roof behind her and landed on the deck. “I’m allergic to gingerbread.” She kept her tone light. “It always has that effect on me.”
He reached up and brushed flakes of snow from her hair. “Me, too. I can only eat a ton of the stuff before I want to resign.”
Kayla relaxed slightly, relieved he’d backed down so easily. “Do you feel like resigning?”
“Every damn day.” He smiled. A slow, sexy smile that made her want to strip him naked and do bad things to him.
Oh, shit, she was in trouble.
“But you don’t resign.”
“The one thing a person can’t resign from is their family.”
Oh, yes they could. She knew that for a fact. And knowing it created the distance she’d been struggling desperately to find. They were on opposite sides of an enormous chasm. This man, wrapped in the big warm blanket of O’Neil love and affection, had no idea what it was like to be shivering in the cold by yourself.
The words snapped her back to her own lonely reality.
“Your family is lucky to have you. Thanks for walking me to the door. Good night.” She unlocked the door but couldn’t move, because he’d planted an arm on the door frame, trapping her. She stood there, locked in by muscle and hot man, staring into those knowing blue eyes.
“Tell me, Kayla. Tell me what happened in there.” The gentleness in his voice matched the look in his eyes.
“Why? Why would you even care?”
“Maybe I can fix it.”
She was willing to bet he did that a lot. Jackson O’Neil was a man who fixed things for other people. That was why he was here, fighting his family so that he could save their home.
And now he wanted to fix her.
A different type of woman might have been tempted. Maybe she was, too...a little.
But she knew some things couldn’t be fixed.
“Thanks, but I’ve been fixing myself since I was thirteen years old so I’ve had plenty of practice. Good night, Jackson.” She ducked under his arm and stomped over temptation into the warmth of the cabin.
* * *
I’VE BEEN FIXING myself since I was thirteen years old.
He wondered what she’d been fixing.
Whatever it was, something or someone had upset her tonight.
Jackson turned up his collar against the cold and took a long, last look at the closed door before crunching through the snow back to his car.
Maybe it was just being here.
Maybe it had finally hit her that in her eagerness for the business, she’d volunteered to give up her Christmas. Maybe seeing his family had made her think of hers. Maybe she was homesick.
It could have been any number of things, none of which were his business.
Ignoring the powerful urge to make it his business, Jackson reversed out of the parking spot and drove back down the track that led to the main lodge. He was guessing his brother would be there, and he was right.
Tyler was seated at the bar, entertaining a group of guests with stories of bear encounters and downhill daring. Spying Jackson, he threw a remark at the group that had them laughing, then made his excuses and joined his brother.
“You look as if you need a drink, and I guess I owe you one.”
“One? You owe me at least a hundred.”
Tyler reached across the bar and snagged a couple of beers. “So did you drive her back to the airport?”
“Why would I do that?”
“Because when she stumbled out of the kitchen she didn’t look like she was planning on staying around.”
Jackson closed his hand around the beer. “Does she seem like a quitter to you?”
“No. Anyone who can still be talking business while Mom is forcing food on them and Grams is trying to wrap them in lurid green is definitely not a quitter. But she seemed serious about her job and anyone like that isn’t going to last five minutes in this place.”
“Thanks.”
“You don’t count. You’re tied here by blood and a guilty conscience.” Tyler glanced over his shoulder as the door swung open letting in freezing air, a flurry of snow and another group of tourists. “So if she isn’t on her way back to New York, where is she? The least you could have done was invite her for a drink. God knows, if she’s working for this family she’s going to need one.”
Jackson wondered how his brother knew about the guilty conscience. It wasn’t something he’d talked about. “I offered. She wanted to go back to the cabin and do some work. Talking of which...” He leaned across to the bar and called Pete over. “Can you send a pizza over to cabin ten please?”
“Toppings?”
Jackson glanced at Tyler for inspiration. “What do Brits like on their pizza?”
“How do I know? Stick to cheese. She might be vegetarian. She looked stressed enough to be one. Although, come to think of it she looked the way we all look after an evening with the O’Neils. My advice? Hold the pizza and send over whiskey.”
“Cheese and tomato.” Jackson dug out his wallet and handed over a note.
“Why are you paying when you own the place?”
“Because I want the books to balance.”
“Fat chance of that. So she didn’t want to eat dinner with you.” Tyler shook his head sympathetically. “You’re losing your touch, bro.”
“Unless you like your eyes black and your jaw broken, I suggest you keep your thoughts on that subject to yourself.” The door opened again, letting in more cold air and a young woman with a
bright smile.
“Hi, Jackson!”
“Brenna—”
“Good to see you.” Chocolate-brown hair peeped out from under a fur-lined hood. The pretty smile dimmed when she saw his drinking companion. “Tyler.” She gave a brief nod and slipped her hood back. “Glad I caught you. I’m two instructors down. They’re forecasting a foot of fresh snow and I’ve got a couple wanting to do Sunrise and Powder and no guide—you can take them.”
Tyler choked on his beer. “Me?”
“It would make their day to be escorted by an ex-member of the U.S. ski team.” She levered herself onto the bar stool and charmed Pete with a smile. “Coke, no ice, thanks. Are you a daddy yet? How’s Lynn?”
“Big enough to be having twins. She can barely move, or that’s the excuse she gives me when she asks me to make tea.” Pete handed her a Coke. “Doctor thinks it will be here before Christmas.” He looked dazed at the thought, and Brenna beamed as she unwrapped her scarf.
“Best gift of all. Text me the minute you have news. I cannot wait for our Snow Crystal baby to arrive.” Sipping her Coke, Brenna turned back to Tyler, her gaze a fraction cooler. “About tomorrow—”
“Are they experienced? Last time I took a group into deep powder they were clueless. The woman thought powder was something she put on her face.”
“These are experienced, but it’s their first time skiing the East Coast.” She tugged off her gloves and pushed them into the pocket of her jacket. “They don’t want an instructor, just a guide, and you know this area better than anyone.”
“Why can’t you take them?”
“I’m teaching a ‘bumps ’n’ trees’ class.”
Tyler lifted his beer to his lips and drank, and Jackson wondered how two people who knew each other so well could turn every conversation into a combat zone.
They’d grown up together. Played together as children and skied together as teenagers. They’d been fiercely competitive and inseparable until the day Tyler had announced he’d gotten Janet Carpenter pregnant.