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
