Snowbound

by Larissa Ione

  “Your father and I were hoping you’d want to take over.”

  Robyn’s first impulse was to hug her mother for knowing how much the bakery meant to her. Her second impulse was to scream at her for not realizing how cruel the offer was. Hausfreunde had always been a source of comfort, but it had also been a source of food she couldn’t resist. How could she possibly spend all her time here without eating everything she could get her hands on? No way. She’d worked too hard to lose weight and get healthy, and she couldn’t risk succumbing to the temptation of comfort food again.

  Sure, she’d been able to resist so far, but visiting and helping was one thing. Working at the bakery on a daily basis was another. Especially in a city filled with beautiful people. Often famous people. A city where her peers had been vicious. And where she’d probably run into Sean regularly. What if that impulse to binge became a demon she couldn’t control? She’d blow up like a hot air balloon.

  “I can’t do it, Mom.”

  “But—”

  “No.”

  The warm scent of baking bread wafted into the office as an employee walked past the open door, and Robyn’s stomach soured. Losing the bakery would be like losing a family member.

  She felt like a huge piece of her heart had been ripped from her chest. Things around her were spinning out of control and sliding downhill fast. She could use a rescue from a sexy ski patroller right about now. More than ever she wanted to see Sean, to sink into his embrace and feel nothing but him.

  Hopefully he’d forgive her for her behavior last night, because she desperately needed a distraction, an intense escape that would make her forget everything. And for once, she’d make the first move. She’d call him, ask him to meet her tomorrow. This time, she was going to take some risks, because really, she had nothing left to lose.

  Chapter Eight

  Sean was nervous. Nervous. Before he met Robyn in the bar the other day, he could count on one hand the number of times he’d suffered from a case of nerves unrelated to ski competitions. Now he couldn’t get rid of the heart palpitations and churning stomach, which only grew worse as he prepared to meet her in the warming house at the top of Frost Run—the first time he’d be seeing her since the disaster at his house the night before last.

  He’d gone to Robyn’s room yesterday after he got off work, but she hadn’t been there, so he’d sped home, where he’d found two messages on his answering machine. The first, from his agent, Samantha, said how eager she was to see his career take off again, even if it was taking off in a direction none had expected. Though she’d had no specific details, she’d mentioned the possibility of some exciting news soon.

  The message sounded promising, exactly what he’d wanted but had been afraid to hope for. Ditto on the second message. That one had been from Robyn. Her sexy, sultry voice still echoed through his head and filled him with a surge of hopeful anticipation.

  “Hi, Sean…it’s Robyn. Look, um…I’m sorry I was such a jerk the other night. I’d love to talk if you have a minute. Call me?”

  He hadn’t been able to punch the buttons on his handset fast enough. She’d been in her room, had answered in a strong, professional voice—probably in case the call had been from a potential employer—but her tone had softened when she realized he was on the other end of the line. The conversation had been short, and they’d agreed to meet at the warming house after he got off work.

  So here he was, riding the Green Line lift in a light snow. The National Weather Service hadn’t predicted it to worsen much with the approaching frontal system, but his old leg injury was aching, and he’d long ago learned to listen. The front was going to bring some hellish weather. He’d seen how conditions on the mountain could deteriorate from mild to severe in a matter of minutes, and the throbbing just below his knee told him it was only a matter of time.

  At the landing, he shoved off the chair and skied to the warming house, where he left his skis and poles in the designated area. Warm air blasted his frozen face as he opened the door, and then he saw Robyn seated on a wooden bench near the central fireplace, and the warmth seeped all the way to his bones.

  She combed her fingers through cinnamon hair that was slightly mashed from the purple fleece hat on the table. She’d removed her jacket, revealing a red turtleneck that matched her cheeks, still ruddy from the cold.

  She didn’t see him at first, not until a local skier spotted him and gave a hearty shout. “Trenton! Hey, good to see you!”

  It seemed like everyone in the place turned, including Robyn. Sean nodded a greeting to the guy and clomped across the boot-scuffed wooden floor, his stomach flip-flopping like it hadn’t since his competition days.

  Robyn watched his approach, her expression wary, as though she was trying as hard to get a read on his mood as he was trying to get one on hers.

  “Hi,” he said, unsure if he should take a seat.

  She smiled. Thank God. He wouldn’t have blamed her if she’d thrown her hot drink on him and stormed out.

  “Hi, yourself.” She glanced at his patrol jacket. “I thought you said you’d meet me when you got off.”

  He bit his tongue. He could take that sentence to a million places, but now definitely wasn’t the time or place.

  “I am off work. I just didn’t want to take the time to change. I couldn’t wait to see you.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah.”

  Both her smile and the color in her cheeks deepened, and she gestured to the bench across from her. “Have a seat.”

  So far, so good. She didn’t hate him, at least. “Thanks.”

  “Can I order something for you? Coffee? Something to eat?”

  “I’m fine.”

  He watched her tease a manicured fingernail around the rim of her mug, and his body clenched at the memory of how those same nails had dug into his skin in the heat of passion.

  He waited through one deep, steadying breath before bracing his forearms on the table and leaning forward to say, “Look, I’m sorry about the other night—”

  “Don’t,” she said, reaching to take his hand across the distance that suddenly felt like miles and not inches. He wanted to be sitting with her, not across from her. “It’s okay.”

  He looked around the busy establishment and lowered his voice. “It’s not okay. I screwed up.”

  “That’s the thing,” she began, shaking her head. “You didn’t screw up. I did. I’ve been sending mixed signals, telling you I don’t want anything to happen between us, and then jumping all over you.”

  “Let me assure you that you jumping all over me is not a problem.”

  She laughed, that pure, rich sound he’d become addicted to, that gave him a buzz no alcohol could match. “Good. Because no more mixed signals. I’m tired of playing it safe and trying to protect myself.”

  Her smile faded. Lips pressed together tightly, she stared him in the eye, her own eyes flashing green sparks in the firelight. “My job forces me to deal with record execs, TV and radio producers, celebrities and high-strung disc jockeys. On a work level, no one intimidates me. I’m good at my job, and I’m aggressive. I take no prisoners.”

  He cocked his head, suddenly able to see the smart über-shark inside the cuddly ski bunny, and a new appreciation for her tumbled over him like an avalanche. Only a few days had passed since they’d met, and already he had discovered complex layers inside her that no woman in his past had possessed.

  Or maybe they had, but he’d been too self-absorbed to notice.

  “But?”

  “Buuuut,” she drawled, “I’ve been a wimp in my personal life. Total spineless jellyfish. Marshmallow.”

  “Marshmallow?”

  She nodded. “And not even the stale, firm kind. The fresh, super-soft kind.”

  He squeezed her hand. “I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.”

  “Oh, it was that bad. But no more. I’ve taken a lot of business risks and not one has backfired.” She caught her lip between her tee
th again, hard enough that he wanted to soothe it with his tongue. “Well, there is the quitting and blackballing, but that’s different. My point is that risks work for me in business, but playing it safe in my personal life has been a colossal failure, so it’s time for a change. It’s time to jump in with both feet.”

  A sense of relief washed over him. He, too, was ready to jump in with both feet. There was still that pesky matter of his…disfigurement, but he’d deal with that when the time came.

  He felt like he’d just broken a season-long losing streak and now had a shot at gold. Grinning like a fool, he drew her hand to his mouth and kissed her palm. “Sounds like we’re on the same page. And there’s something I need to talk to you about, so what do you say we start with dinner?”

  A dangerous combination of heat and mischief darkened her eyes, and she offered a sly smile. “Too safe. I was thinking we should start with dessert.”

  “That does sound dangerous,” he teased. “Do you think we’ll shock the waiter when we order cheesecake before the main course?”

  She frowned. “Um, I meant—”

  “Robyn!”

  They both turned to see Karen thumping toward them, whipping her snow-crusted hat off her head. She stopped at the table and gave Sean a quick, breathless hello before turning to Robyn.

  “I’ve been trying to reach you on your cell, but you haven’t answered.”

  Robyn rolled her eyes. “Stupid thing doesn’t work on the mountain. What’s up?”

  “A guy named Mike Anderson called from Los Angeles about a job at KREX.”

  “Oh my God! What did he say?”

  “That you need to call him tomorrow morning between eight and noon or he’s going to give the job to some guy from Sacramento.”

  Robyn bounced in her seat with excitement. “You’re kidding!”

  “And that’s not all.” Karen stretched out a dramatic pause long enough that Sean thought Robyn might explode with anticipation before adding, “He’s heard through the grapevine that you need an announcer for your auction, and if you get hold of him in the morning he’ll see if he can schedule Donny J. to do it.”

  For a moment, Robyn looked shell shocked, beautifully shell shocked, and even more so when she let out a whoop so loud everyone in the establishment turned to stare. She didn’t care, just grinned like she’d won the lottery.

  “Donny J.,” she said with a giddiness that suited her, “is L.A.’s most popular morning DJ.”

  Sean nodded. “I’ve heard of him.” He’d actually been interviewed by the obnoxious DJ, but he didn’t feel the need to share that with Robyn.

  “I hope everyone here has heard of him, too. He guest spots on some of the music video channels sometimes.” She drummed her fingers on the table. “Hmm, this could work out even better than if Damon had done it.”

  It’d probably irritate the hell out of him to know that Robyn had gotten a job without his help and in spite of his blackballing. Worse, she’d landed an emcee who was a hundred times more famous than Damon.

  Pleased with the image that presented and thrilled for Robyn, he smiled. “Congratulations. Wanna celebrate?”

  “Dessert?”

  “Anything you want.”

  Robyn leaned across the table, so close their lips nearly touched, and her lids went to half-mast as her gaze burned into his. “Anything?” she purred, in a low, seductive voice that made heat pool in his groin.

  He swallowed dryly. “Yep.”

  “Then I know the perfect thing to get the adrenaline flowing.”

  Sheer, explosive pleasure burst through Robyn as she hurtled down The Dark Side. Snowflakes stung her face, but goggles protected her eyes from the worst of the weather, and her mood shielded her from the rest.

  Finally, she’d gotten a break. A job and an auction emcee were within her grasp, and she had a hot night with Sean planned for the evening. A hot night to accompany her new change in attitude. No more safety net. She was taking the plunge, both with Sean and on the slope.

  She turned sharply to avoid a hip-high mogul that Sean, slightly ahead of her, had jumped with a casual recklessness that seemed to define the man.

  She wasn’t going to go that crazy in her quest to add some excitement in her life, but she had elected to ski a very advanced slope, and with more aggression and confidence than she’d ever dreamed of. She cast a quick glance behind her. Karen, too, had avoided the mogul. Smart girl. Leave the suicide jumps to loonies like Sean.

  When she looked forward again, she nearly ran into him. He’d braked to help a wiped-out skier to her feet. Robyn veered away in a spray of snow and shouted on her way past, “Meet you at Après Ski!”

  He gave her a thumbs-up, and she barreled down the slope, took a curve so fast she swore her organs switched places. Terror and triumph collided in a bolt of ecstasy that ripped the breath from her lungs. Now she understood some of what Sean experienced when he jumped from helicopters and plunged down steep tracts of boulder-strewn mayhem. The adrenaline rush careened through her bloodstream, propelling her to new heights and unaccustomed levels of invincibility.

  Then Karen passed her, and she realized she was still holding back a little, that she hadn’t broken through all her barriers.

  “Come on!” Karen shouted back, slowing. “Let’s beat him to the bottom!”

  “You do remember that he used to make a living by beating people to the bottom of mountains, right?”

  “We can take a shortcut.”

  Her friend came to a hard stop near the edge of the slope. Snow swirled around a sign that pointed to a narrower run, one of the resort’s Suicide Chutes. The chutes were shortcuts to other runs, mid-mountain warming houses or winter fun centers. They delivered the adventure of the backcountry without the extreme danger. During the summer, they became trails for hikers and horseback riders. This particular one led to the camping area and cabin where her family used to vacation.

  Still, Robyn wasn’t quite up to the task, especially not after she read the writing below the arrow. Area infrequently patrolled. Ski with a partner.

  She swung her head around and gave Karen a hard stare. “Are you crazy? I don’t think I’m ready for that.”

  Karen laughed. “Come on. It’s baby stuff. Not even backcountry. It’ll be fun.”

  “What if I get hurt or stuck or—”

  “You won’t. But if you do, I’ll send out the ski patrol,” Karen said, with a waggle of her brows.

  Visions of Sean rescuing her from a snowdrift and warming her up made her shiver, but with longing, not cold. Definitely not cold. “Okay, but I only want you to send one.”

  “Done,” Karen agreed with a grin. And with that, she hucked off onto the trail rutted by recent skiers.

  The wind blew a fierce gust of wind into Robyn’s face as she stood there watching Karen take the run with confidence and ease. Could she do this? She’d wanted to take risks, to push her limits and test her boundaries, but she’d only just begun to enjoy skiing again, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to make a total fool out of herself on a run she wasn’t ready for.

  On the other hand, she couldn’t let Karen go by herself, and her friend was rapidly moving out of sight. Behind Robyn, the scrape of skis brought her head around, and some guy flew past, flashing her a bright smile. “Go for it!”

  Ten years ago she’d have thought he was making fun of her or trying to get her to do something so she’d fail. But his gaze lingered on her a little too long, was a little too appreciative, and she realized he was encouraging her, was flirting, even.

  She could do this.

  Steeling herself, she pushed off into the considerably deeper powder, a charge of excitement sparking through her. Fat flakes fell on trees already drooping from the weight of the snow on their branches, creating a snow-globe landscape, a fantasy world where nothing could possibly go wrong.

  Certain she’d made the right decision, she proceeded with slow, precise motions while she kept an eye on Karen’s bright
blue jacket ahead. Karen had slowed to give Robyn a chance to catch up, so she relaxed, enjoying the scenery and the silence, relishing the warming tingle of euphoria.

  Then she rounded a bend and the trail opened before her, its steep slope and sharp drop-offs making her mouth go dry with the first glimmers of fear. No. She was an advanced skier capable of much more than she’d allowed herself to do before.

  She picked her way down the trail, battling wind gusts that seemed to grow stronger by the second. Snow began to fall harder, creating a wall of white that decreased visibility and swallowed her friend.

  “Karen!”

  Karen’s answering shout, distant but clear, brought her instant relief, and she spotted a glimpse of blue ahead. Karen had stopped to wait for her. Thank God.

  Crouching, she took a leap from a ledge, and a blast of wind knocked her off balance. She hit the snow in a teeth-jarring impact. Her ski twisted, and she lurched forward into an ice-crusted drift. Pain shot through her wrist, and when she sat up she discovered an ugly red abrasion from snow-burn.

  “‘It’s baby stuff. It’ll be fun,’ she says,” Robyn muttered, struggling to her feet.

  “Are you okay?” Though she was only a few yards away, Karen had to yell over the wind.

  Robyn waved a gloved hand. “If that’s the worst the chute can do to me, then bring it on!” Oh, yeah, that sounded brave, but she didn’t think she’d take another one of these things anytime soon.

  Snow began to fall harder, blown by winds that made it difficult for her to get back to her feet. No problem. They were at least halfway to the bottom now, and besides, every once in a while there were signs pointing to marked runs. They could always take one of those if they got into trouble.

  She pushed off, choosing a conservative line and avoiding the more risky drops Karen favored. Karen veered off to leap from a ledge, and by the time Robyn skirted around the drop, her friend had disappeared into another wall of snow.