needed to tell her.
“You’re an excellent skier,” she said.
“I was going to tell you the same.”
She smiled. “I think you held back to stay with me. It was invigorating, a real change from my regular life. You’ve turned my world topsy-turvy.”
And there it was—the perfect opening to tell her about the Delaneys.
But he couldn’t. He realized he didn’t want to tell her in public. He wanted to be alone with her. And he also realized that no matter how guilty he was feeling, he should wait until they returned to Houston. It would give him the weekend to get closer to her and hopefully create a stronger bond between them that would be harder for her to break.
A voice inside him told him that that was a cruel thing to do, but he ignored it.
He didn’t want to lose her. From the first moment he had seen her, he’d been drawn to her and the thought of losing her made his insides churn. He had never expected to find her fascinating, to want a relationship with her.
“Maybe you’ve turned mine topsy-turvy, too.”
“I seriously doubt that,” she said. “All of this is scrumptious,” she added, taking a bite of a mini-beef Wellington. I can see why this is your favorite restaurant.”
“Good—I’m so glad you like it. So tell me, do you go to your gallery every day?”
“Not at all. I have a competent manager and excellent staff. They run the business so I can stay at the studio and paint.”
“I don’t blame you. If I ever build furniture full-time, I’ll do the same.”
“Why do you stay in property management? With your talent for woodwork, you could build a following very quickly.”
“Blame my father for that one. I was raised to be in a productive, lucrative business. It was instilled in me as far back as I can remember.”
“But your father is gone now, and you’ve already proved yourself in that area. Your furniture would be productive and lucrative.”
“I’m wound up in obligations. Imagined or real, they are as much a part of me as my breathing. To Dad, who hasn’t been gone that long, my fascination with building was entertainment and silly.”
“Too bad,” she said, shaking her head. “What did your dad want for you in your personal life?”
“The usual. Marriage and kids. But I’ve watched too many people have miserable marriages, and I’m not ready to get tied down.”
“Tied down,” she repeated, smiling. “So no long relationships in your past?”
“None. And evidently, none in yours.”
“Absolutely not.”
When he had first met her, her answer would have pleased him—a woman who did not want any deep commitment. Why now did he feel jolted slightly by her answer? Was Sophia weaving a web around his heart—something no woman had ever done?
It was nine before they left the restaurant. When they stepped outside a light snow fell, big flakes drifting, glistening in the light.
“Look, Garrett, this is enchanting,” she said, spinning around with her arms spread wide. Her long hair flew out behind her, swirling around her face. He couldn’t resist wrapping his arms around her to kiss her, tasting a wet snowflake on her lips.
When he released her, she stepped away. “We’re in public.”
“I couldn’t resist,” he admitted, thinking he would always remember her spinning around in the snow, a beautiful woman whose exuberance and zest for life were contagious. He looked up at the falling flakes and took out his phone. “We weren’t supposed to have this kind of weather.”
“It’s gorgeous. I can’t keep from being glad we have it.”
“Even if you’re snowbound with me?” he asked.
“Even if. I’ll manage.”
“Chance of a trace of snow,” he read off his phone. “Clear Sunday.” On impulse he glanced up. “Do it again. Let me get your picture.”
Laughing but humoring him, she did and he took a picture that he expected to be a blur, a disappointment. Instead, the picture was clear with her dark hair swinging out behind her head. He had caught her big smile and the essence of the moment. It would have been a perfect moment if it weren’t for this big secret between them. He put away his phone, shaking off the thought. “A trace of snow tonight won’t make any difference except to please you.”
“It definitely does,” she said. “Hey, wait. You’re not the only one who wants a picture of this.” She yanked out her phone. “Smile, Garrett.”
He grinned while she took his picture and then flashed it briefly so he had a glimpse of himself. Linking his arm in hers, he waited for the valet to bring his car.
They stomped snow off their boots at his condo and he built another fire, which gave a low light. When he turned away from the hearth, he faced her.
Sophia stood at the window with the flickering orange flames playing over her. As his gaze drifted down over her lush curves and long legs, his heartbeat quickened. His longing was intense. He crossed the short distance to take her in his arms.
Sophia’s heart thudded as she wrapped her arms around Garrett. The day had been magical and she had grown closer to him, learning more about him and enjoying herself. All through dinner she had wanted to be alone with him so they could be together like this again.
Snowflakes had been the perfect touch, landing in his dark hair, sprinkling across his broad shoulders. His kiss had tantalized her. She wanted more of him, so much more.
She didn’t believe in love at first sight, or second or third for that matter. She thought if she ever fell in love it would be with someone she had been friends with for years, yet Garrett shook her theories because he was already more important to her than anyone else she had ever dated. He was pure temptation.
He made her want to risk her heart.
She stood on tiptoe, her heart pounding while he held her tightly against his long frame. His hand slid down her back and up beneath her sweater. She moaned softly, the sound muffled by his mouth on hers. His fingers trailed up her back in a feathery touch that was electrifying.
He picked her up and carried her closer to the fire, setting her on her feet while he still kissed her as flames crackled. Garrett stepped back and pulled her sweater over her head, tossing it aside. He unfastened her lacy bra and removed it, dropping it to the floor.
With a deep sigh he stepped back, cupping her breasts in his hands. “So beautiful,” he said, his gaze as sensual as his caresses. His thumb traced circles on her nipples that sent currents streaming
