“I like looking at the trees.” She picked a table near to the cabin and breathed in the smell of wood smoke and forest. Sunlight filtered through the trees. The sky was a Caribbean blue, the temperatures Arctic. The contrast fascinated her. “I had no idea winter could be this pretty.”
“It’s the best time, providing you’re dressed for it.” Jackson put his helmet down on the table next to her and trudged through the snow to the door of the cabin.
She shouldn’t have watched him, but she couldn’t help it. He was in his element here, outdoors in the mountains, confident and comfortable in the harsh surroundings of snow and ice. And she wasn’t alone in her appreciation of his qualities. Two women at the adjacent table were looking at him, too, gazes lingering.
Kayla looked away and focused on the snow-laden trees.
She couldn’t remember ever being anywhere so peaceful. The only sound was the occasional dull thud as deeply piled snow tumbled from a branch onto the snowy forest floor.
It was a million miles from Manhattan.
A million miles from her life.
“Here.” A large mug of hot chocolate appeared in front of her. Jackson pulled out the chair across from her and straddled it. “People ski for miles to sample Brigitte’s Belgian hot chocolate. It’s legendary around these parts.” He’d pulled down the zip of his jacket and the neck of his jumper brushed his darkened jaw.
She rarely noticed men because she was too busy thinking about other things, too busy rushing through her life to ever take a second look, but Jackson was a man who deserved a second look. And a third. In fact the women at the table next to her hadn’t stopped looking.
It bothered her that she didn’t want to stop looking, either.
Instead, she focused on the swirls of cream that topped her hot chocolate. “So this is a special recipe? What’s in it?”
“Calories,” he said drily. “Brigitte guards the exact combination with her life, but I think it involves milk, chocolate, vanilla, fresh whipped cream and cinnamon. You might want to call your cardiologist before you take a sip.”
“Is it worth the extra hours in the gym?”
“You’re going to work off those calories fast enough. I’m taking you skiing this afternoon.”
“I haven’t already humiliated myself enough in the snow? You want more?” Kayla paused with the mug halfway to her lips. “Can’t we just explore on the snowmobile?” She was surprised by how much she’d enjoyed being outdoors—the crisp fresh air and the sting of cold on her cheeks. Then there was the feeling of being pressed
close to Jackson, but she wasn’t going to think about that....
“You’re getting the whole Snow Crystal experience, Kayla Green. No wimping out.”
He had a way of persuading people to do exactly what he wanted them to do, she thought. He knew when to push hard, when to back off. When to employ a steely look and when to smile. He had his mother’s warmth and interest in people. He was a man who took the trouble to look beneath the surface.
It unsettled her.
She didn’t want him looking beneath the surface. She wasn’t looking for depth. She didn’t want depth.
“Just as long as the whole Snow Crystal experience doesn’t include bear and moose.” She sipped her chocolate and closed her eyes. It was the best thing she’d tasted, the hot velvety sweetness made even more perfect by the freezing temperatures biting through her clothing. “I’ve died and gone to heaven.”
“Good, isn’t it?”
She opened her eyes and saw that he was smiling. “Worth two solid weeks on the treadmill.”
“You haven’t truly lived until you’ve tasted Brigitte’s hot chocolate.”
“It’s wicked.” She tasted cream, chocolate and the burst of cinnamon and savored it all—flavor, scent and texture. As she licked cream from her top lip, she saw that he was watching her.
“I get the sense you don’t usually indulge.”
Kayla curled her fingers around the mug, warming her hands, staring down at the chocolate flakes sprinkled onto swirls of whipped cream. “That depends on what you mean by indulge.”
“Doing something just for the sheer pleasure of it.” Somehow the atmosphere had shifted. There was tension where tension shouldn’t exist. Heat where there should have been cold.
“Work is my indulgence.”
“Work can’t be an indulgence. Not even if you enjoy it.”