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his reaction, she leaned in closer, closed her eyes and released a sigh.

      “Why is it that you are always racing ahead of me, then?” she asked in a soft whisper spoken right in his ear.

      His ability to think was gone. Her breath was warm and her finger kept stroking his neck. All he could think about was her mouth. And how close it was to his. He turned his head to kiss her. Needed to feel her lips under his. But a waitress bumped into their table, jostling the drinks, and Lindsey pulled back.

      Carter cursed under his breath but put on a smile for the cocktail waitress, who looked stricken. “No worries.”

      “These are for you,” she said, setting down two cards and handing them Lars Usten Resort and Spa pens before walking away.

      * * *

      IT WAS ONE THING to decide she was going to spend the night with Carter, but she was finding it altogether more unnerving than she would have expected. In movies she’d seen the woman go after the guy, and then there would be a montage of kisses or dancing that ended up with the couple in bed. But she’d always been awkward at this stage.

      There was something about Carter that for her was irresistible. His tattoo had fascinated her for a long time, and that stubble of his was just as a soft as she’d imagined it would be. She was letting the martini power her courage tonight...and she had to admit she liked it.

      A lot.

      “What is this?” She pulled the card the waitress had dropped on their table toward her. He’d been about to kiss her, and though she wanted that kiss, she was glad for the reprieve. She only needed a kiss at midnight. Not a public make-out session before that.

      “Some sort of resolutions form,” he said. “So, gorgeous, what do you want for this New Year?”

      She arched a brow. “Why do you keep calling me that?”

      “Because you are gorgeous,” he said with another sly wink. “Plus, I’m sort of afraid if I say your name, you’ll remember you don’t like me.”

      “Ah, I wouldn’t say I don’t like you,” she demurred. He was a little too wild and too out of control to be someone she felt comfortable with most of the time, but tonight that appealed to her. She wanted to forget who she was. Forget the past year had happened and wake up on January 1 as someone else.

      That was pitiful, she thought. She should stop drinking. She’d had two martinis, and while she wasn’t drunk, she did have that nice little buzz. But it was the maudlin thoughts that bothered her.

      “Okay. What would you say about me, then?”

      “I like that tattoo,” she admitted. “And your stubble. How do you get it so soft?”

      He laughed. “I’ve got more tattoos if you like that one.”

      “You do?” she asked. “Where?”

      “I’ll show you if you play your cards right.”

      She flushed a little. Not as bold as she wanted to be, but she wasn’t backing away. She was doing this. She was going to be impulsive. And daring. Not Lindsey-like.

      Needing a distraction, she glanced down at the resolution list on the card. “Do you do resolutions?”

      “Seriously?” he asked with a mocking look. “Do I look like someone who wants to better myself?”

      She shook her head, but realized in that instant that he was playing at being the bad-boy snowboarder she’d always thought he was. “I’m not sure about that. I think there is a big part of Carter Shaw the world never gets to see.”

      He shook his head. “Nah. I mean, there are those tattoos, but otherwise, what you see is what you get.”

      She doubted that. She was on to him. Why did he work so hard to be something he wasn’t? For that matter, why did she? Because it was easier than letting the world see who she truly was.

      “What food do you want to try next year?” she asked, reading from the list and hoping that she could keep her courage until midnight. Only another fifteen minutes. She wanted him. She wanted this New Year’s Eve to be different from all the rest.

      “Food, eh?” He wrinkled his forehead. “Not sure. I’m going with one of my cousins on a trip in Iceland to see a reindeer farm. So maybe reindeer?”

      “I bet it doesn’t taste like chicken,” she said with a half smile. “When is that trip?”

      “In the fall. It’s a Northern Lights trip. We spend three weeks up close to the Arctic Circle living with the locals and watching each night for the aurora borealis.”

      That sounded...cold, but intriguing. “Have you done anything like that before?”

      “Nah. This is the first year that I’m not competing anymore.”

      She looked at him in surprise. “What? Why not?” If not for her reconstructed knee, she’d still be training and focusing on four years from now. The next winter games.

      “I have gold medals and more titles that one man could ask for. It’s time to set my sights on something else.”

      “Such as...?” she asked, leaning closer. This is what she was searching for. What came after competing the way they had for most of their life? It was different for Carter because he’d been born with a silver spoon in his mouth. A little rich kid who got whatever he wanted. But that had only carried him so far. She knew that he’d worked as hard as she had to get to the winter games.

      “Not sure. But this is my year of adventure. My year to find out. I’m working on that charity you’re involved with to help kids get started in winter sports, because that’s new for me. The old man is glad to see me giving back. Can you believe he said that to me?” Carter scowled. “I’ve given back a lot over the years.”

      For a moment she caught a glimpse of the real Carter. “You have. I’ve heard about the board you developed. It changed snowboarding.”

      “Yeah, that was nothing,” he said, flashing a grin at her. And the real man disappeared behind that flirty facade. “So what new food are you going to try?”

      “Nothing exotic like you. I have a thing about dairy and have usually not eaten cheese. I know that sounds silly but this year I think I’ll give it a try.”

      He lifted a brow. “Cheese?”

      “Yes.”

      “You seriously don’t eat cheese?” he asked.

      She had friends who acted the same way when she mentioned it. “I don’t like dairy stuff usually.”

      “Cheeseburgers?”

      “Nope.”

      “Pizza?” he prodded.

      “Pesto-based pizza with fresh tomatoes. No cheese.”

      “Weirdo,” he said.

      “Like

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