door opened and a man she almost didn’t recognize entered the room. The cashmere overcoat and hand-tailored suit were gone. So was the boardroom executive.
This Cal Logan looked more like a cross-country Nordic skier. He wore a cream-colored turtleneck and bright blue ski jacket with the collar turned up. Matching ski pants emphasized his muscular thighs. The pants were tucked into microfiber boots cuffed by thick thermal socks Devon would have killed for at that moment.
Luckily, she didn’t have to resort to murder. Cal carried a shopping bag across the room and dumped it on her bed.
“Good thing the hotel caters to the winter sports crowd. I had the manager open the ski shop. I figured we’d both need some cold-weather gear if the power stays off for more than a day or two.”
“A day or two?” Gulping, Devon tugged the covers down a few inches. “Surely they’ll restore it before that.”
“Maybe, maybe not. The manager said at least two-thirds of the city and most of the surrounding countryside have been affected. And it’s still happening. Lines are coming down right and left.”
Her gaze went to the uncurtained windows. The suite was on the sixth floor, too high up to afford more than a glimpse of the ice-coated trees lining the Elbe. From what Devon could see of them, however, most had bent almost to the ground under the unrelenting weight of the ice.
“I had to guess at your size.” Cal’s blue eyes skimmed down the covers and back up again. “If anything doesn’t fit, I’ll take it down and exchange it.”
“Thanks. Er, I don’t suppose you were able to scrounge some hot coffee along with the ski clothes.”
“Sorry. The hotel kitchen is temporarily out of operation. The staff was scrambling to put together a cold breakfast for the guests, though.” He headed for the door. “We’ll go down as soon as you’re dressed.”
Devon dove into the shopping bag and extracted a thick pair of socks. Only after her toes were encased in thermal warmth did she grab the bag handles and make a run for the bathroom.
The toilet seat almost gave her freezer burn. The icy stream that gushed from the water taps made washing her hands and face a challenge of epic proportions. Thankfully the hotel’s amenities included spare toothbrushes and a complimentary tube of toothpaste. Shivering and hopping from foot to foot, she brushed away the overnight fuzz, then shimmied into black-silk long johns so thin and sheer she wondered how the heck they could retain any heat. Her bikini briefs showed clearly through the almost-transparent silk. So did her demi-bra.
A V-necked sweater in pale lavender went on over the thermal silk undershirt. The ski pants and jacket were a darker shade of amethyst trimmed with silver racing stripes. Cal, bless him, had thought to include gloves and a headband in the same rich purple.
Ears, fingers and toes all warm and toasty, she zipped on a pair of microfiber boots and left the bathroom with a last glance at the woman in the mirror. She could use some lip gloss and a hairbrush. Hopefully, the hotel’s computer whizzes would figure out some way to operate the door locks so she could get back into her own room soon. If not, she’d have to conduct another raid on the downstairs shops.
After she got some coffee in her. Preferably hot, although she’d take an injection of caffeine however she could get it right now. And food. Any kind of food. With her body’s basic need for warmth satisfied, her stomach was starting to send out distress signals.
Cal stood by the sitting-room windows, taking in the frozen cityscape across the Elbe. Devon’s breath caught as she went to stand beside him. Buildings, trees, the statues on the bridge, the river itself…everything as far as the eye could see lay under a blanket of glistening white. Not a single car or bus or snowplow moved through the frozen stillness, although a few brave pedestrians were making their careful way across the bridge into the Old City.
“The manager didn’t exaggerate,” Devon murmured, awestruck. “Looks like most of the city must be shut down.”
“Looks like.” He didn’t sound particularly concerned as he turned and skimmed a glance over her new uniform. “How does everything fit?”
“The boots are a little loose, but you did good otherwise. Very good, actually.”
The comment was more of a question than an endorsement. Logan responded with one of his quicksilver grins.
“That’s what comes of having four younger sisters. We’ll exchange the boots downstairs.”
“We don’t need to exchange them. I’ll fill the space with another pair of socks.”
“You sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“You’d better bring your purse with you,” he advised. “With the electronic locks on the fritz, we can get out but the keys won’t get us back in. We’ll have to leave the door propped open.”
There went her lip gloss and hairbrush.
“What about your laptop and briefcase?” she asked. “Are you just going to leave them?”
“I took them downstairs earlier. They’re secured behind the desk.”
“We might need them to work your revised schedule if I can’t get to mine.”
“I think we’d better shelve any idea of work until we know the extent of the storm.”
“But—”
“No buts. I’m declaring today an official holiday. All set?”
Since she didn’t appear to have much choice in the matter, Devon stuffed the little evening bag she’d taken to dinner last night inside a jacket pocket and pressed the Velcro flap closed. This, she predicted silently as she and Cal descended six flights of cold, dank stairs, was going to be a looooong day.
Long, she amended some ten hours later, and in-explicably, incredibly magical.
Looking back, she saw that she and Cal had shed their respective roles with their business suits. No longer travel consultant and client, they became co-conspirators in a determined effort to beat the cold.
Their first act was to down a surprisingly lavish breakfast. With a fervent murmur of thanks, Devon accepted a mug of the hot cocoa the hotel staff had brewed over a can of Sterno. The rich, frothy chocolate paved the way for a cold buffet of cheeses, fruits, yogurt, smoked salmon and thick slabs of Black Forest ham. Smoked over pine and coated with beef blood to give it a distinctive black exterior, the moist ham tasted like heaven slapped between two slices of pumpernickel cut from a wheel-size loaf.
After breakfast Cal insisted they don knitted ski masks and get some exercise. Devon had her doubts when the ice crusting the snow broke under her weight and she sank to her ankles. To her relief, the water-resistant microfiber boots kept her feet dry. What’s more, the depressions provided just the traction she and Cal needed to join the other hardy souls who’d ventured out into the winter wonderland.
They’d gone only a few yards when what sounded like a rifle shot split the air. Instinctively, Devon hunched her shoulders and grabbed Cal’s arm. He stopped her before she could drag them both facedown in the snow.
“It’s
