was Kayla’s turn to stare. “Personal?”
“What do you do when you’re not working?”
Kayla froze. No one had ever asked her that. Usually the questions were about forecasts, strategy, circulation figures—no one had ever asked her what she did when she wasn’t working. “I—”
“It’s a simple question, Miss Green.”
No, it wasn’t a bloody simple question. She decided to treat it like one of those interview questions where they asked your weaknesses and you gave them something they wouldn’t see as a weakness, such as I work too hard.
“I work too hard.” She gave an apologetic smile. “That doesn’t leave much free time. Right now my focus is my career. I’d rather be working than doing anything else.”
She’d especially rather be doing that than celebrating Christmas.
“Your family won’t object if you work over the holidays?”
Why was the guy asking about her family? He wanted to buy her skills, not adopt her. No client had ever asked her a question about family. All they cared about was hearing what she could do for their business. No one had ever been remotely interested in the person behind the machine.
Her smile frozen to her face in a bizarre rictus, Kayla hunted for a response that was neither rude nor a lie. “They won’t object. We’re all busy people.” Terrified that he might see through that neutral statement, she snapped her gaze from his and closed her notepad. “I will spend the week living and breathing Snow Crystal, write up my recommendations with input from the team back here and then we’ll start work in the new year. Brett?” She glanced at him for support, knowing Brett was too hungry for the business to care if she drove a snowplow through her own vacation.
“Sounds good. I’ll even provide the eggnog.”
For once relieved that her boss was living up to his reputation for forgetting the people who worked for him had a personal life, Kayla relaxed. “Make it tequila and I’ll put you back on my Christmas card list.”
“Done. And you can put a pair of snow boots on expenses.”
“You’re all heart, boss.”
“No worries.”
Across the table, Jackson O’Neil was still watching her. Beneath the well-cut suit he exuded a raw sexuality that made it almost impossible for a woman to look away.
“Would you describe yourself as an outdoor girl, Kayla?”
Not in a million years. “I don’t spend anywhere near as much time outdoors as I would like—” she adopted a regretful tone “—so I’m looking forward to rectifying that. And I love snow. Love it.” Maybe she should have said that once. Maybe twice was overdoing it.
“That’s good to hear.” That hypnotic blue gaze didn’t shift from hers. “So you ski?”
Remembering the picture of him plunging into a deep, snow-filled gully, Kayla decided it was safer not to lie about that. “Not exactly, but I’ve always wanted to, so this will be the perfect opportunity. I can’t wait, although I think my preference will probably be for—er—flat slopes.”
Dark brows rose. “Flat slopes?”
“Nothing too—” she tilted her hand to demonstrate a steep gradient “—terrifying.”
“Right.” He rubbed his hand over his jaw, and she had a feeling he was smiling. “Flat slopes. I admire your dedication.” He rose to his feet, lithe and athletic. One glance at his powerful thighs told her that this man didn’t expect his slopes to be flat.
She hoped he still admired her dedication when she was lying prostrate at his feet.
Belatedly, Kayla realized that spending a week at Snow Crystal meant spending a week in the close company of Jackson O’Neil, a man whose idea of fun was to jump off cliffs and land on a near-vertical slope.
Maybe she should have been more honest about her lack of experience.
Maybe she should book herself a hospital bed right now.
Gathering up her notes, she produced her most reassuring corporate smile and walked around to his side of the table. “Here at Innovation we’re always willing to go that extra mile for a client.” Preferably not downhill on skis, but if that was the only way then so be it. “Fast paced and focused. That’s what we do.” She stuck out her hand and then wished she hadn’t, as strong, male fingers closed over hers.
She tried not to wince.
The guy was strong enough to kill a moose with his bare hands. And even though she was wearing her favorite confidence-inducing killer heels, he was taller. His hair was dark and gleamed under the harsh lighting of the boardroom. It should have been unforgiving, but it simply served to spotlight his spectacular good looks.
“Let me know when your flight gets in and I’ll pick you up from the airport.” He released her hand. “We’ll do what we can to make the holidays special for you. It will give you a chance to try a variety of winter sports seeing as you—er—love snow so much.” The glitter in his eyes told her he’d guessed that her only contact with snow up until now had been to stare at it through the office window and brush it off her coat.
She told herself it didn’t matter.
“Secluded cabin, log fire, views of a frozen lake—” No Santa, no store window displays or canned Christmas music and most of all, no memories. “It doesn’t get any more perfect than that. Have a safe trip home.”
THE WOMAN HAD obviously never been near real snow in her life.
Hiding a smile, Jackson snapped his bag shut and watched as she walked briskly away from him, those incredible legs accentuated by heels so high she almost needed to breathe additional oxygen. Her hair was smooth and silky and brushed her shoulders in a perfectly tamed curtain of pale gold. He was willing to bet Kayla Green had never had a bad hair day in her life. Everything about her was ruthlessly polished and controlled. He wondered idly what would happen to that hair after she’d spent a day in the mountains.
He wondered who she was under the gloss.
“I didn’t expect her to be able to come over the holidays.” He hadn’t expected the chemistry, either, but he let that pass. He had enough complications in his life without adding more. “There can’t be many people her age who would choose to spend Christmas in an isolated cabin, however luxurious.”
“That’s Kayla. If she’s on a project then she’s on it a hundred and fifty percent. She’s brilliant and she has the best media contacts in the business. It’s the reason I poached her from the London office. The girl is a tiger.”
He was banking on it. He needed someone besides him who would take the business seriously. But still—
“She didn’t have plans to return home for Christmas?”
Clearly that possibility hadn’t occurred to Brett, who shrugged. “If she did, she’ll cancel. Snow Crystal is our top priority, and
