Snowbound with an Heiress

by Jennifer Faye

  * * *

  Why exactly did he elect himself to teach Serena to cook?

  Because it was easier than discussing his background. That was one thing about June, she never prodded him for answers. But Serena was the exact opposite. She was most definitely the curious sort. He wasn’t sure how to deal with her.

  For so long now, he’d been fine with leaving the past alone. But being around Serena had him reexamining his life. It all made him uncomfortable. The more he thought about things, the more he questioned his choices.

  He didn’t like the uneasiness filling him. Before he’d arrived in Austria, he’d had a plan—a focus. His life was to revolve around his work. Now he didn’t know if that was the right path for him.

  What he needed now was to get away from here—away from Serena. He’d be able to think clearly and he could go back to—to what? His lonely condo in New York? His workaholic tendencies?

  No matter what his life may be lacking, it was better than the alternative—loving and losing. Once down that road was enough for him. He was better off alone.

  He shoved all these thoughts and questions into the box at the back of his mind. Tomorrow his camera crew would arrive. And he doubted that his life would ever intersect Serena’s again. Although, the thought of not seeing her again settled heavy in his chest.

  “Where do I start?” Serena’s voice jarred him from his thoughts.

  “You’ll need to rinse the shrimp under some water and remove the tails. And while you do that, I’ll put on a pot of water for the pasta.”

  He couldn’t believe that no one had ever taken the time to teach her to cook. He felt bad for her. It made him wonder what kind of a childhood she’d had.

  “Were you left alone a lot as a child?” The question was out of his mouth before he realized that it was none of his business. He placed the pot on the burner and turned the heat to high. “Never mind, you don’t have to answer that.”

  She glanced over at him. “Is this my friend Jackson asking or is it Jackson Bennett, king of the morning shows, who wants to know?”

  Ouch! That comment hurt more than he was expecting. “I promise nothing you share with me will show up on my show or in the press. I’d like to be your friend.”

  She rinsed off another handful of colossal shrimp and set them aside before she turned back to him. “I’d like that. It’s just that I never had anyone in my life that I could completely trust.”

  “That must have been rough.”

  She shrugged. “I dealt with it. I learned pretty quick that I could only count on myself.”

  “Still, that’s not right. A kid should have someone to turn to—someone to rely on.”

  Serena arched a brow. “Are we talking about me or you?”

  Jackson realized that he’d let his emotions get away from him. It was just that he felt a strong connection with Serena. It was something that he’d never felt with June or anyone else in his life.

  He cleared his throat. “Why don’t I give you a hand?”

  He moved next to her at the sink and started removing the tails of the shrimp. Why did he keep opening himself up to her? He knew better. The real Jackson Bennett was a man with flaws and scars. He would never add up to the vision she gained from watching him on television.

  Serena was used to men who had it all together—looks, careers and charisma. He was the shell of the man he used to be. Cancer had more victims than those carrying the disease. It could suck life right out of the people around it—grinding hopes and dreams into smithereens. And sometimes leaving in its wake a broken person.

  “Do you cook a lot?” Serena asked.

  He shrugged as he swallowed hard. “As much as I can. It’s the only way I’ve found to make sure that I fit into my suits.” He reached for a couple cloves of garlic. “Eating out is tempting, but then I start putting on the pounds that I can’t lose even when I go to the gym.”

  “I totally get that. They say the camera puts on ten pounds but that was before high definition. Now it adds fifteen pounds and amplifies any wrinkles or blemishes. So if you can show me an easier way to watch the scale, I’m all for it.”

  Jackson placed a clove of garlic on a cutting board. He showed her how to put the flat side of a chef’s knife on the clove and with her palm press down on it to remove the skin. She did the same with the other clove. Then Serena minced the garlic before chopping some fresh parsley and tomatoes that they’d picked up at the market.

  “Jackson?”

  He’d just added butter to the skillet. “Yes?”

  “I thought I was supposed to cook the meal.”

  She was right. He’d just gotten so caught up in his thoughts of the past that he’d been moving around the kitchen on automatic. “You’re right. Sorry. It’s just habit.” He stepped to the side of the stove. “Okay, then. Here. Take the handle. You’ll want to swish it so the butter coats the bottom of the pan.”

  She did as he said.

  “Now add the garlic.” He talked her through the process of adding the shrimp, the fresh parsley and a little seasoning. Jackson inhaled the savory aroma. “Smells wonderful.”

  He added the angel-hair pasta to the pot of boiling water, gave it a stir and lowered the temperature.

  “You’re cheating,” Serena said.

  And then he realized he should have let her do all the steps. “But it’s so much easier when we work as a team. Trust me, you’re doing the hard part.”

  “What do I do next?”

  “Turn the shrimp.”

  He hovered just over her shoulder, watching her every move. He told himself that he was just trying to be an attentive mentor, but the truth was he was drawn to Serena like a magnet. There was something so appealing about her and it went far deeper than her natural beauty. There was a tenderness—a vulnerability—about her. And she made him feel as though he were her equal—as though they were perfectly matched for each other.

  “Jackson.” Serena waved a hand in front of him to gain his attention. “The shrimp’s pink.”

  Pulled back from his thoughts, he blinked and quickly took stock of where dinner stood. He told her to drain the shrimp and set them aside. Then they added more butter, flour, milk, chicken broth and seasoning to the pan. Then the most important part—the cheese. She added lots of mozzarella and Parmesan. In the meantime, Jackson drained the pasta.

  They worked well together. Really well. It was like they’d been doing it all their lives. And he wasn’t sure what to make of it. Perhaps he’d isolated himself too much since his wife’s death and now he was overreacting to Serena’s presence.

  Oh, who was he kidding? He was falling for this woman—this award-winning actress. And he had no idea what to do about it.

  “Do I add the tomatoes now?” she asked.

  “Yes. And the shrimp. And make sure you remove it from the heat.”

  He wasn’t sure where this evening was headed, but he sure was hungry now. And his hunger had absolutely nothing to do with the amazing Alfredo shrimp pasta they’d just created.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  DINNER HAD BEEN PERFECT.

  The company was amazing.

  Jackson couldn’t recall the last time he’d had such a wonderful evening. And now Serena leaned back on the couch with Gizmo on one side of her and Jackson on the other. The glow of the fireplace added a romantic ambience to the room. And when Jackson settled his arm around her, she didn’t resist.

  Was it wrong that he wanted this night with her? He knew that it would be a fleeting moment. After all, he was going to head back to New York as soon as his work was completed.

  But there was something special between them. He wasn’t ready to put a label on it. Not yet.

  “And what has you so deep in thought?” Jackson asked, noticing he wasn
’t the only one staring reflectively into the fire.

  “I don’t know.”

  “It wouldn’t happen to be that masterpiece you’ve been working on every spare moment you get, would it?”

  “You’ll laugh if I tell you.”

  Jackson pulled back so he could look at her. “Why do you think I would do that?”

  She shrugged. “It’s what has happened in the past.”

  “Not by me.”

  “True.” Serena worried her bottom lip. “I shouldn’t have said that. You’ve been so kind to me, helping me in the kitchen and visiting the Christmas market even though you really didn’t feel up to it. Those are things other men in my life would never have done. I shouldn’t have made such a thoughtless remark.”

  “It’s okay.” He once again settled next to her.

  “Can I have a do-over?” When he nodded, she said, “I was thinking about my script.”

  “You’re writing a television show?” He wanted to know more about her. Everything about her fascinated him. “Have you always been a writer?”

  Serena didn’t say anything. He willed her to open up to him because she was like a mystery. The more he knew about her, the more he wanted to learn.

  Her gaze met his. “I’ve always been a reader. When I was younger, I would write, but then my father found out and told me that I was wasting my time.”

  “I’m sorry he smashed your dreams.”

  She shrugged. “I shouldn’t have let him. But I was young and easily swayed.”

  “I take it you’re not so easily swayed these days.”

  “I’d like to think not. Time and experience have a way of changing a person.”

  “And in your case, I think you’ve made the most of your experiences.”

  She arched a brow at him. “You think you know me that well?”

  A small smile teased his lips. “I think you are an amazing woman with a big heart. You love your puppy and you take in injured strangers.”

  Color rushed to her face. He couldn’t believe someone as beautiful as her hadn’t been complimented on a regular basis. But he couldn’t deny that she was adorable with the rosy hue in her cheeks. Not that he was thinking of starting anything serious with her.

  It was time he changed the subject before he said too much and made them both uncomfortable. “So what are you writing? A family saga? Or a paranormal series?”

  “No...ah, actually, it’s a big-screen movie.” She paused as though expecting him to say something, but he quietly waited for her to finish. “A family saga with a central romance.”

  “That’s great.”

  “You’re just saying that.”

  “No. I’m not. I read some every day. Mostly biographies but I also enjoy some suspense. I think anyone that writes has a precious gift.”

  This time she shifted on the couch until she could look him in the eyes. “Do you mean that?”

  “I do. I’d like to read it, if you’d let me.”

  She shook her head and sat back on the couch. “You can’t. It’s not finished.”

  “How about when it’s finished?”

  “That’s the thing. I’m stuck. I’ve tried different endings but nothing I’ve tried seems to work.”

  “Give it time. Don’t force yourself. If you relax, the answer will come to you.”

  “Do you really believe that?”

  “I do. It works for me. When I’m working on a segment. I like to do a lot of my own writing.”

  “Thanks.” She turned her head and smiled at him. “I really appreciate your support.”

  He lowered his voice. “Just know that you can always talk to me—about anything. I care about you.”

  * * *

  Serena’s heart jumped into her throat. She turned her head to say something, but words failed her. Her gaze met his dark eyes. He wanted her. It was right there in his eyes. They were filled with desire.

  When he lowered his head, she found her lips were just inches from his. Her heart beat faster. Should she do it? Should she make the next move? Meet him halfway?

  Perhaps actions did actually speak louder than words. She leaned forward, claiming his lips with her own. They were smooth, warm and oh, so inviting.

  Jackson shifted on the couch so that he was cupping her face. Her arms instinctively wrapped around his neck. The kiss deepened. There was no hesitation—no tentativeness. There was only passion and desire.

  It seemed so right for them to be together. It was like she’d been looking for him all of her life. He accepted her as she was and he hadn’t tried to change her.

  Jackson leaned back on the couch, pulling her on top of him. Her hands shifted to his chest. Beneath her fingers she felt his strapping muscles. Her heart fluttered in her chest as her body tingled all over. She’d never felt this way with a man before—not even close.

  Thoughts of Jackson’s approaching departure crowded into her head, but she forcefully shoved them away. If all she had after this vacation were memories, she wanted them to be good ones. She wanted them to be so good that she would recall them with a smile when she was a little old lady.

  She was beginning to realize the greatest gifts in life were the good memories. She wanted to make exceptional memories with Jackson. She needed him to remember her, because she would never ever forget him. Not a chance.

  Jackson took the lead with their kiss. Exploring, taunting and teasing. Her body pulsed with lust and desire. Beneath her palm, his heart beat hard and fast. Oh, yeah, this was going to be an unforgettable night—

  Something cold and wet pressed to her cheek. What in the world?

  Serena pulled back to find Gizmo standing up on his back legs with his nose next to hers. A curious look reflected in his eyes as though he was thinking: What did I miss? Huh? Huh?

  Simultaneously Serena and Jackson let out a laugh. Gizmo looking pleased with himself.

  “Arff! Arff!”

  With a smile on his face, Jackson said, “I think we should take this into the bedroom.”

  Serena’s gaze moved between her two favorite males. “I think you’re right.”

  Once they got Gizmo settled on his dog bed, Jackson took her hand in his. She led him to the bedroom where they could explore these kisses in private.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  SERENA COULDN’T SLEEP.

  She was too wound up—too happy.

  For a while now, she’d been watching Jackson sleep. His face was so handsome and he looked so peaceful. He was so much more than the alpha image he projected on television. There was a gentleness to him—a compassion that broke through the wall around her heart.

  This evening had been more amazing than she’d ever thought possible. And as she watched Jackson draw in one deep breath after the other, she had a light-bulb moment. She realized the reason she couldn’t finish her screenplay.

  Her mind started to play over where she’d left her heroine bereft after the black moment with the hero. Until now, everything Serena had tried to bring the couple back together had felt hollow and empty. And that was because she didn’t know what it was like to fall in love.

  Until now...

  She was falling in love with Jackson Bennett—the man who greeted America with a smile and a mug of coffee every weekday.

  And he was the inspiration she’d needed to finish the script. Perhaps this was a whole new start to her life. She knew that she was jumping too far ahead and she had to slow down.

  After all, Jackson had said that he cared about her—not that he loved her or that he was falling in love with her. Maybe that was the line he handed all his women. She didn’t want to believe it because he just didn’t seem like the type to go casually from one relationship to the next.

  Was that how her heroi
ne would feel? Or would she be confident that they could overcome their biggest obstacle? The questions continued to whirl through her mind, but she kept them relegated to her script. She would figure out where her relationship with Jackson went later—preferably after she got some sleep.

  But for now, she had a mission. She gently slipped out of bed. There was a distinct nip in the air. She threw on clothes as fast as she could. All the while she kept glancing over her shoulder to make sure she hadn’t disturbed Jackson. His breathing was deep and even.

  Holding her breath, she tiptoed out of the room, closing the door behind her. The fire had died off in the great room and a definite chill was in the air. Gizmo lifted his head and looked at her. He didn’t make any attempt to move from his oversize cushion with his blue blanket and his stuffed teddy he used for a pillow. She turned on a lamp next to the couch. Gizmo gave her a curious look as she made her way to the fireplace to rekindle the fire. But apparently it was too cold or he was too tired to beg her to take him outside. She couldn’t blame him.

  With the fire started, she fussed over Gizmo before gathering her laptop and moving to the end of the couch closest to the fireplace. With a throw blanket over her legs, she opened her laptop and set to work. For the first time in quite a while, her fingers moved rapidly over the keyboard. When the words came to her without a lot of effort, it was like magic. It was as though the story had taken on a life of its own. The characters were speaking to her and all she had to do was type out the words.

  She didn’t know how much time had passed but the sun was just starting to come up when she typed The End and pressed Save for the last time. She shut her laptop, set it on the coffee table and then laid her head on the backrest of the couch with a satisfied smile, her heavy eyelids drooping closed.

  * * *

  Quack. Quack.

  Jackson’s eyes opened at the sound of his alarm. His assistant, who was fresh out of college, had decided to play a trick on him and had reset his phone to various obnoxious sounds. A duck for his alarm, an old car horn for his phone and other random, off-the-wall sounds. What she didn’t count on was him liking them. They were easy to distinguish from everyone else’s cell phone. And best of all, it made those around him smile. So he’d left the tones as they were.