скачать книгу бесплатно
“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.”
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?”
“No. Hence the gate at the end of the path. I wanted each property to be secluded.”
“So you could lie naked in the hot tub.” She murmured the words to herself, thinking aloud and then realized what she’d said and felt the sudden shift in the atmosphere.
“Yes.” He spoke slowly and there was a rough note to his voice that made her stomach flip and heat rush across her skin. “You could.”
“Give me some time to think about it. I’ll come back to you with some ideas as soon as I have something worth sharing.” She could feel him watching her and knew that if she turned her head, the look they’d share would be more than a casual glance.
She kept her gaze fixed on the forest, feeling as if her body were on fire.
“I’ll pick you up from here at six.” His voice was husky. “That should give you time to unpack and settle in before you meet the rest of the family.”
“I can walk. It will give me a feel for the place.” And time to refocus. And maybe roll naked in the snow to cool herself down. “I’ll put my boots to dry. They’ll be fine.”
“Those are the same boots you were wearing when you slipped and almost knocked yourself unconscious?” They strolled back into the living area and Jackson reached for his jacket. “About tonight’s meeting—” He shrugged on the jacket and zipped it. “It’s not going to be easy.”
“I do this for a living. It won’t be a problem.”
It was Jackson who worried her, not the prospect of meeting his family and talking business.
Why would it? She’d handled skeptical CEOs who thought PR was a waste of money. She could handle his grandfather with her eyes shut.
And once she’d done that, she’d be spending a whole week in a luxury log cabin with work, a stack of books and DVDs.
What more could a Santa-hating workaholic ask for?
CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_0dcdcec8-e915-593d-ab4b-50c985c5f111)
“SO DID SUPERWOMAN ARRIVE?” Tyler strolled across his brother’s kitchen and snagged a beer from the fridge. “I thought she might turn around and fly straight back to New York once she found out what she was dealing with.”
“She doesn’t know what she’s dealing with, but she soon will. With luck all the flights will be grounded and the roads closed. Please help yourself to my beer. Don’t hold back.”
“I won’t. Being in this family is enough to drive a man to drink, so the least you can do is supply the damn stuff.” Tyler peered into the fridge. “This is the last one. You need to get to the store.”
“That’s one option. Another would be for you to stop drinking my beer and buy your own.”
“I’ll go with the first.” Tyler elbowed the door shut. “I’m earning it this week. I’m giving private ski lessons to some spoiled teenage princess who cares more about her hair than linking her turns.”
“Good to know you’re earning your keep.”
“I’m not going to dignify that with an answer. So does your woman ski?”
“I doubt she’s even seen a ski close up, and she’s not my woman.” Jackson thought about how close he’d come to kissing her when he’d hauled her out of the deep snow. She’d been right there in his hands, soft and womanly and as aware of him as he was of her.
He’d seen her fighting it. He’d been fighting it, too, but she’d done a better job than him. She’d frozen him out. Smoothly and with finesse, but still the distance had been there. Which was probably a good thing. His life was complicated enough without adding to it.
Tyler raised his eyebrows. “It was a casual remark, but judging from your expression I hit a nerve. So is she hot?”
Jackson thought about her skirt riding high on her thighs.
Hot? Hell, yes.
“Our relationship is professional and it’s staying professional. And that goes for your relationship with her, too.”
“In other words you’re struggling to keep your hands off her. Interesting.”
“Why is it interesting?”
