He paused in the action of setting down his bowl. Her statement surprised him, but it took him a moment to realize why. There was something exotic about her, something cosmopolitan and sophisticated. “You grew up on a farm?”
She nodded. “My parents emigrated from Greece.”
“What do they farm?”
“Well, in Greece, olives. In the U.S., corn and soybeans mostly, but my father has cultivated a small vineyard. He’s experimenting with wines. You never know, maybe he’ll put Michigan on the wine-making map.”
His gut tightened when she flashed him a smile.
“If you stick around until after the snowstorm, you’ll get a chance to try out Heavenly View,” he said, leaning back on the couch and stretching his arms along the back. He appreciated being able to look his fill of Angeline from behind.
“I’ll probably have to get back by the time the roads are clear,” she murmured. She twisted her head, meeting his gaze. Her curiosity bubbled out of her. “What made you do it? What made you sell your seat at the Chicago Board of Trade? According to your father, you were very successful.”
“I guess it depends on your definition of success,” he said slowly.
She said nothing, just continued to look at him, her gaze calm yet anticipatory. Patient but wanting. It wasn’t a quality Alex had ever experienced before.
At least not in a conversation he cared about.
“You want to know why I left Chicago?” She nodded. “Because I hated it. Everyone told me how lucky I was.”
“But you didn’t feel fortunate, did you?”
“I felt fucking miserable.”
The quiver in her lush lips mesmerized him. Warmth spread slowly from his belly down to his cock. He knew he should stand up and walk into the frigid regions of the house to cool down. But the heated firelight and Angeline’s curving, dark pink lips held him hostage.
“But why did you decide on this?” she asked, waving her hand. “Your father implied you made millions on LaSalle Street. Why a ski resort?”
He shrugged. “I grew up with my mom on a wooded estate in Minnesota.”
“Mitchell mentioned he and your mother were never married,” she said delicately.
“Yeah. I was the result of a weekend indiscretion.”
“You say it so…casually,” she murmured, her stare on him intent.
He shrugged. “I’m just stating the truth, not complaining. I had a great childhood. My childhood is one of the main reasons I bought Heavenly View. We lived with my grandparents outside of Minneapolis/St. Paul. My grandfather passed on his love of the outdoors to me—fishing, boating, hiking. I’ve skied and snowboarded for as long as I can remember.” She waited, her large, dark eyes looking soft and warm in the firelight. “When I was in the city, I always wanted to get away to the country for the weekend. I finally realized I didn’t want to be in places like this for a few nights a week and live in a noisy, polluted rat race for the remainder. I wanted this…” he waved a hand around the rustic house, “…to be my life, not my hobby.”
“You really love it, don’t you?”
He nodded. Her smile
widened. She turned her face back to the fire.
“What about you?” he queried.
“Do I like my work, you mean?”
“Yeah.”
She nodded her head, causing her dark, gleaming hair to slide up and down the ivory sweater. “Maybe not as much as you love this. But I do enjoy it. It’s rewarding at times. And I’m good at it.”
He sensed she was merely stating a fact rather than bragging. One had to be fully invested in something to brag about it, after all. She liked her job all right…
“But it’s not your passion though. Is it?” He finished his thought out loud. He couldn’t help but wonder what Angeline Kastakis’ true passion really was. His father? The thought made him feel like the food he’d just eaten had turned rancid in his gut.
She started to face him again and stopped herself. “No, I guess it isn’t. Is that so bad? Most people aren’t as lucky as you, Alex. Most of us work at something we’re relatively good at in order to pay the mortgage.”