Five
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Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Epilogue
Katherine Garbera
Countdown to a kiss...
At the stroke of midnight, Lindsey Collins will finally kiss Carter Shaw. A former championship skier, Lindsey had a life of all training and no play until a devastating injury sidelined her. Now she’s ready to put her good-girl ways behind her and kick off the New Year with a little fun...and the sexy snowboarder is the perfect distraction!
Now that Carter has Lindsey in his arms for one mind-blowing night, he’s not giving up. He’ll do whatever it takes to break through her Ice Queen exterior and show her he’s more than just a fun time. But how can she believe in him when she can’t even believe in herself enough to return to skiing—and all that she’s worked for?
KATHERINE GARBERA is a USA TODAY bestselling author of more than fifty books and has always believed in happy endings. She lives in England with her husband, children and their pampered pet, Godiva. Visit Katherine on the web at katherinegarbera.com, or catch up with her on Facebook and Twitter.
This one is for Nancy Thompson and Mary Louise Wells. Thank you for the gift of your friendship.
“HELLO, GORGEOUS.”
Carter Shaw.
Bad boy, snowboarder and Lindsey Collins’ worst nightmare. Carter was everything she wasn’t, and if she was being totally honest, everything she sort of wished she could be.
“Hello, trouble.”
He laughed in that husky deep-throated way of his.
She tried to ignore the fact that his eyes were a kind of blue-gray that reminded her of early mornings on the slope just after the sun came up. His dark hair was thick and curly on the top, but at this moment cut short on the back of his neck. She’d seen him wear it a lot longer, but this sportier cut called even more attention to his handsome, gorgeous face. He had that sexy stubble that made her fingers tingle with the urge to touch it each time she saw him. And it didn’t help her libido that the guy had that relaxed vibe of someone who’d grown up in California. To her, he’d always looked as if he should be on a surfboard instead of a snowboard.
“Nice shindig,” he said. “If you like glamour.”
Briefly glancing away to check out their surroundings, she smiled despite herself. The club at the Lars Usten Resort and Spa certainly did New Year’s Eve in a big way. Lots of champagne. Lots of partygoers. Hats and horns for everyone. There was a large dance floor in the middle and banquettes around the end, as well as lots of high tables.
“I can do glamour,” she replied.
“You sure can,” he said with a wink.
“Are you hitting on me?” she asked. “You’ve always said you’d rather kiss your snowboard than a Super G skier.”
“Well, you are looking a lot better than my snowboard at the moment.”
Lindsey shook her head at the way he said it. There was something different about him tonight. He wasn’t his usual cocky self. They were both here this evening because of the wedding of their two friends, Elizabeth and Bradley. The newlyweds had long since departed and she had stayed behind because it seemed a little too Bridget Jones to be sitting all alone in her barely furnished condo on New Year’s Eve.
Up till now Lindsey had never been a big fan of staying up until midnight on New Year’s Eve. What was the point? Her entire life had been spent training to win an international gold medal—and kissing someone at midnight really kind of paled in comparison to that goal. Or at least it had. But tonight...she felt a little wild. A little out of control. And if she was being completely honest, she felt like doing something she’d never do otherwise.
Last year was supposed to have been her year, and she’d crashed and burned playing by the rules and following her plan. She’d suffered a humiliating fall in a practice run in Sochi that had ended her career and changed her life. Instead of attacking the changes with her customary gusto, she’d settled into a sort of limbo here in Park City, Utah, at the Lars Usten lodge.
It had been so easy to do. The resort was cushy; her students at the lodge were cute and undemanding. The past six months or so had given her the chance to take it easy and slowly recover from more than knee surgery.
But this year... Well, this year all bets were off. Starting right here right now. The band was playing Van Morrison’s signature hit, and she shot Carter a brazen look. “This is my song.”
“Your song?”
She pointed to her eyes. Oh, God, was she really doing this? “‘Brown Eyed Girl.’”
Yes, it seemed she was.
“Then let’s dance,” he said, grabbing her wrist and leading her onto the dance floor. He swung her around to face him, and she let go and pretended she didn’t know all the things she knew about Carter.
That he played fast and loose with life and women. That he was a rebel risk taker who had caused more than one accident on the slopes. That he liked to put his hand on her hip and hold her close while they danced.
And he smelled good. A clean, crisp scent that reminded her of being outside and on the slopes.
She turned away from him.
She wasn’t herself tonight. She should dance off the dance floor and out the door. Go home and forget about trying to be something and someone she wasn’t.
Except she was lost.
Really lost...and she needed something to make her feel alive again. Something that going sixty miles per hour down the side of a mountain used to do but couldn’t anymore.
“Gorgeous? You okay?”
No. Definitely not okay, but confessing that to Carter wasn’t something she was going to do.
