ski.”
Lacy’s smile felt a little stiff, but she gave herself points for keeping it in place. “A lot of people did.”
“It was just tragic what happened to Jack Wyatt.”
The woman wasn’t the first person to bring up the past, and no doubt she wouldn’t be the last, either. Even two years after Jack’s death, his fans still came to Snow Vista in a sort of pilgrimage. He hadn’t been forgotten. Neither had Sam. In the skiing world, the Wyatt twins had been, and always would be, rock stars.
The woman’s eyes were kind, sympathetic and yet, curious. Of course she was. Everyone remembered Jack Wyatt, champion skier, and everyone knew how Jack’s story had ended.
What they didn’t know was what that pain had done to the family left behind. Two years ago, it had been all Lacy could think about. She’d driven herself half-crazy asking herself the kind of what-if questions that had no answers, only possibilities. And those possibilities had haunted her. Had kept her awake at night, alone in her bed. She’d wondered and cried and wondered again until her emotions were wrung out and she was left with only a sad reality staring her in the face.
Jack had died, but it was the people he’d left behind who had suffered.
“Yes,” Lacy agreed, feeling her oh-so-tight smile slipping away. “It was.” And tragic that the ripple effect of what happened to Jack had slammed its way through the Wyatt family like an avalanche, wiping out everything in its path.
While the kids practiced and Lacy’s assistant supervised, the woman continued in a hushed voice. “My husband keeps up with everything even mildly related to the skiing world. He said that Jack’s twin, Sam, left Snow Vista after his brother’s death.”
God, how could Lacy get out of this conversation?
“Yes, he did.”
“Apparently, he left competitive skiing and he’s some kind of amazing ski resort designer now and he’s got a line of ski equipment and he’s apparently spent the last couple of years dating royalty in Europe.”
Lacy’s heart gave one vicious tug and she took a deep breath, hoping to keep all the emotions churning inside her locked away. It wasn’t easy. After all, though Sam hadn’t contacted the family except for the occasional postcard, he was a high-profile athlete with a tragic past who got more than his share of media attention.
So it hadn’t been difficult to keep up with what he’d been doing the past couple of years. Lacy knew all about his businesses and how he’d put his name on everything from goggles to ski poles. He was rich, famous and gorgeous. Of course the media was all over him. So naturally, Lacy had been treated to paparazzi photos of Sam escorting beautiful women to glamorous events—and yes, he had been photographed with a dark-haired, skinny countess who looked as though she hadn’t had a regular meal in ten years.
But it didn’t matter what he did, because Sam was Lacy’s ex-husband. So they could both date whomever they wanted to. Not that she had dated much—or any for that matter. But she could if she wanted to and that’s what mattered.
“Do you actually know the Wyatts?” the woman asked, then stopped and caught herself. “Silly question. Of course you do. You work for them.”
True. And up until two years ago, Lacy had been one of them. But that was another life and this was the one she had to focus on.
“Yes, I do,” Lacy said, forcing another smile she didn’t feel. “And speaking of work, I should really get to today’s lessons.”
Then she walked to join her assistant Andi and the group of kids who demanded nothing but her time.
* * *
Sam waited for hours.
He kept an eye on Lacy’s classes and marveled that she could be so patient—not just with the kids but with the hovering parents who seemed to have an opinion on everything that happened. She hadn’t changed, he thought with some small satisfaction. She was still patient, reasonable. But then, Lacy had always been the calm one. The cool head that invariably had smoothed over any trouble that rose up between Sam and Jack.
He and his twin had argued over everything, and damned if Sam didn’t still miss it. A twinge pulled at his heart and he ignored it as he had for the past two years. Memories clamored in the back of his mind and he ignored them, as well. He’d spent too much time burying all reminders of the pain that had chased him away from his home.
Muttering under his breath, he shoved one hand through his hair and focused on the woman he hadn’t been able to forget. She hadn’t changed, he thought again and found that intriguing as well as comforting. The stir of need and desire inside him thickened into a hot flow like lava through his veins.
That hadn’t changed, either.
“Okay, that’s it for today,” Lacy was saying and the sound of her voice rippled along his spine like a touch.
Sam shook his head to clear it of any thoughts that would get in the way of the conversation he was about to have and then he waited.
“Parents,” Lacy called out with a smile, “thanks for trusting us with your children. And if you want to sign up for another lesson, just see my assistant Andi and she’ll take care of it.”
Andi was new, Sam thought, barely glancing at the young woman with the bright red hair and a face full of freckles. His concentration was fixed on Lacy. As if she felt his focused stare, she lifted her head and met his gaze over the heads of the kids gathered around her.
She tore her gaze from his, smiled and laughed with the kids, and then slowly made her way to him. He watched every step. Her long legs looked great in black jeans and the heavy sweater she wore clung to a figure he remembered all too well.
Despite the snow covering the ground and the surrounding pines, the sun shone brilliantly out of a bright blue sky, making the air warm in spite of the snow. Lacy flipped her long blond braid over her shoulder to lie down the center of her back and never slowed her steps until she was right in front of him.
“Sam.”
“Lacy, we need to talk.”
“I already told you we have nothing to say to each other.”
She tried to brush past him, but he caught her arm in a firm grip and kept her at his side. Her gaze snapped to his hand and made her meaning clear. He didn’t care. If anything, he tightened his hold on her.
“Time to clear the air,” he said softly, mindful of the fact that there was a huge crowd ebbing and flowing around them.
“That’s funny coming from you,” she countered. “I don’t remember you wanting to talk two years ago. All I remember is seeing you walk away. Oh, yeah. And I remember divorce papers arriving two weeks later. You didn’t want to talk then. Why all of a sudden are you feeling chatty?”
He stared at her, a little stunned at her response. Not that it wasn’t justified; it was only that the Lacy he remembered never would have said any of it. She was always so controlled. So...soft.
“You’ve changed some,” he mused.
“If you mean I speak
