“Thank you,” I whisper, unsure what else to say.

“Have dinner with me tonight.”

“Oh, I shouldn’t,” I immediately respond.

“Are you driving back down to town when we’re done today?”

“No, I have a room at the lodge.”

“Perfect.”

“I’m going to fall off this lift. I’m warning you.” I’m watching people hop off the chairlift as it nears the top, but the chairs don’t stop completely. You have to be quick.

“No, you won’t.” He takes my glove-covered hand in his and squeezes. “Have a little more faith in yourself, love.”

chapter

3

~ JACOB ~

Have I ever been this captivated by a woman in my life? Not that I can recall. This little pixie is a spitfire, full of energy and quick to learn. Her sense of humor is damn hilarious and I’m dying to know what secrets she has hidden beneath all those layers of heavy snow gear.

I could easily spend days with her and not tire of her.

That itself is a novelty.

I can feel her tense up as we near the top of the lift. She laughs off her awkward clumsiness, but I can see the unease that it causes, making my heart go out to her. I’ve never known what it is to not feel comfortable in your body. Athletics always came easy to me.

“You’ll be fine, darling,” I murmur, and help her off the chair, keeping a hand on her arm and leading her away as I wave at the ski lift operator.

“Hey, Bax,” he calls with a smile.

“You’re popular around here,” she says with a grin. “I guess I can see why.”

“And why is that?”

“Well, you’re friendly. And handsome. And you seem to know what you’re doing.”

“I’d better know what I’m about, love. I can’t have anyone getting hurt, now can I?”

“No, we can’t have that.”

I lead her over to an area that has a gentle slope and is perfect for beginners. It shouldn’t scare her. Though I’ve skied places on this mountain that made me break out into a cold sweat.

She’ll never see those places.

“So you think I’m handsome?”

“You know you’re handsome.” She laughs and brushes some snow off her pants. It’s begun snowing. Large, fluffy flakes are lazily making their way to the ground.

“Handsome enough to have dinner with tonight?”

She bites her lip and I know she wants to say yes. I want her to say yes. I want to do much more than have dinner with her, but I’m willing to take it slow.

For the first time in a long time, I’m enjoying a woman’s company when she’s fully clothed.

Good grief.

“Well, you are rather handsome,” she replies, trying to copy my accent and failing miserably.

Fuck me, she’s adorable.

“Your accent needs work,” I reply, and brush my finger over her nose.

“I’m just trying to blend in. I’m a chameleon.” Her face is perfectly sober, but her hazel eyes are full of laughter. Her golden blond hair is cut short, shorter than I normally prefer, but it’s perfect on her. It frames her delicate face, setting off those witching eyes.

“Dinner, Grace,” I remind her.

“If you insist.”

Oh, I think I’ll be insisting on quite a few delicious things, darling.

I smile softly to myself and lead her through more snowplow moves, how to turn, and damn if she isn’t learning quickly. She’s a natural.

“You’re doing great, Grace.”

“I am?” She smiles widely as I help her out of her skis.

“Absolutely. You’ll be flying down this mountain in no time.”

“How are we getting down to the lodge?” she asks nervously.

“We’re riding the chair, love.”

“I’m sorry, this can’t be very much fun for you.”

“Actually, I’m having a lovely day.” I help her back onto the chair and hop on next to her. “I’m grateful that your friends are getting married and talked you into Aspen.”

“Me, too.” She smiles up at me and I want to kiss her more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life. I pull my glove off and pull my knuckles down her cold cheek, glide my thumb over her plump lower lip.

“Grace, I’m going to kiss you here on this chairlift.”

Her tongue pokes out of her mouth, wetting her lower lip and brushing my thumb and my cock tightens. I lean in and rest my lips on hers, waiting for her to push me away, but she plunges her fingers into my hair and holds on and I sink into her. I rub my lips back and forth over her soft skin before licking her lower lip and slipping my tongue inside, over her tongue and exploring her mouth. She moans softly, opening readily and I sink in farther, caught up in her clean scent and the smell of the snow around us.

I pull back to find her eyes wide and glassy. The pulse in her throat throbs quickly, matching my own.

Bloody hell, I want her.

I glance around to find that we’re almost to the bottom of the lift. I lean in and place my lips beside her ear, press a soft kiss, and then whisper, “I owe you dinner.”

“I’ll collect,” she immediately replies as a shiver moves through her, making me grin.

Sweet, strong girl.

We hop off the chair without incident. She seemed to grow more confident as she became more sure on the skis, and it’s showing now. She’s less hesitant as we move away from the lift toward the rental shop.

“I’ll be glad to get rid of these boots,” she says with a wrinkled nose. “They’re heavy.”

“It’s a workout, indeed.”

“Indeed,” she mimics.

“You enjoy teasing me about my accent, love.”

“I don’t mean to be offensive,” she rushes to assure me. “It’s my stupid sense of humor. You can tell me to shut up.”

I pull her to a stop and drop my face close to hers. “I think you’re charming and delightful, and I don’t want you to shut up. I was teasing you in return.”

“Okay.”

“I told you before, I’m enjoying your company very much.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Now, let’s ditch this gear and get you warmed up.”

“I wonder if I can order a hot chocolate in the lobby and sit by the fire.”

“I’m quite sure you can order whatever you like,” I reply. You can have anything you want.

I’ve known the woman for a matter of hours and I’m ready to offer her the world.

Jesus Christ, grow a pair, Bax.

We turn in her equipment and walk back to the lodge, avoiding the icy patch that she slipped on earlier.

Watching her fall had my heart in my throat.

“Jeanette,” I call as we walk through the lobby to the fireplace. “Would you please order us two hot chocolates?”

“Of course, Bax,” she replies with a knowing smile. She’s such a mother hen. Always trying to set me up with someone.

Maybe this will shut her up.

“Have a seat, love.” I lead her to a plush love seat, but instead of sitting next to her, I sit on the ottoman across from her and take her boot off of her left foot, pull it up into my lap, and begin to rub it vigorously over her wool sock.

“You do not have to touch my sweaty foot!” She tries to pull away but I hold strong.

“I’m warming you up, Grace.”

“The fire will do that for me.”

I raise a brow and watch her quietly as I continue to rub her slender foot. She finally relaxes and sinks back into the cushions of the couch.

“God, you’re good at that.”

“We can’t have your toes fall off from frostbite.”

“I don’t think I was quite there yet,” she replies with a laugh. “But thanks for having my back.”

“What did you think of your lesson?” I ask and turn my attention to her right foot. I want to strip her naked and explore every inch of her tiny body, lose myself in her for hours on end.

Once I started, I don’t know if I could ever let her go.

And where in the bloody hell are these thoughts coming from?

“I had fun,” she replies with a soft sigh. “I didn’t fall once, thanks to you.”

“I told you I wouldn’t let you fall.”

“You might have to come with me to Aspen. Who needs poles when they have Jacob to keep them upright?”

She laughs, and I smile at her, but my insides still. The thought of her in Aspen, with another ski instructor paying her the same attention I am, pisses me the fuck off.

And that’s absolutely ridiculous.

“Jacob?”

“Yes, darling.”

“Where did you go? You zoned out there for a minute.”

I shake my head and join her on the couch as our drinks are delivered.

“Here you go, Bax.” The young room service attendant places the tray holding the hot chocolate and freshly baked cookies on the ottoman before us. I slip my hand into my pocket, pull out some money, and hand him his tip.

“Thank you, Michael.”

“Anytime.”

“Your coworkers are very respectful to each other,” Grace observes, and nibbles a cookie.

Now is the time to tell her. It shouldn’t be all that difficult to mention that I’m not merely an employee, but the owner of the place. However, the thought of her anger and embarrassment is like a punch to the gut.

I’m just a normal bloke, having a conversation with a woman. Not the playboy billionaire from London.

I rather like the way this feels.

“Thank you,” I reply instead, and take a sip of the warm chocolate. “It’s a nice place to work.”

“Hmm,” she agrees. She’s leaning back in the seat, her eyes growing heavy as she sips her drink, lost in her thoughts. I watch her for a while, wondering what she’s thinking, but not wanting to ruin this quiet moment.