Christmas with the Maverick Millionaire

This place was his haven. There was an invisibility to being on the slopes. With his hat and ski goggles on it was virtually impossible for anyone to recognise him. That was part of the reason he loved being around here so much. He didn’t want anything to affect that. Checking blood sugars on a mountainside? It just didn’t seem practical, no matter what his nurse might think.

He’d tried a little gentle flirting with Samantha last night. He hadn’t been able to help it. It had been a natural reaction to being around a gorgeous woman. And Samantha Lewis was definitely in the gorgeous category—she was wasted being a nurse.

For a few minutes she’d almost flirted back. He liked it that she had a cheeky side. He’d spent too long around females who had no idea how to laugh at themselves and with those around them.

A bump on the slopes brought his attention back to the here and now. He bent a little lower, curving into the turns on the piste. He could hear the swish of a snowboard close behind him and see another few people at the bottom of the slope. Within the next hour the ski runs would start to get busy. Nordpark was a little unusual, ideal for beginners or extreme skiers, with very little for intermediate ones. He couldn’t even guess what stage Samantha was at. But from the expression on her face last night she’d looked shocked at the mere mention of skiing.

She shouldn’t be. He’d stipulated in his request for the perfect nurse that he needed someone who was able to accompany him on the slopes.

There she was. In his brain again. Where was this coming from?

He slowed, sweeping to a halt at the bottom of the run. His heart was pounding in his ears, the skin on his cheeks smarting from the cold air. The Seegrube mid-station was a little busier, even though it was still before eight.

The smell of breakfast wafted out to meet him as he stood for a few seconds on the terrace overlooking the valley. Mornings were gorgeous, but it was also beautiful up here in the early evening in the dimming light, with views from the restaurant all over the valley down to Innsbruck. Maybe he would bring her up here later.

And then he spotted it. The bright blue jacket and matching hat emerging from one of the cable cars. He was just about to walk over to one of the red runs and carry on down the slopes, but he could see her head darting around, looking everywhere to see if she could spot him. Where were her skis? He was getting a bad feeling about this. Could they still be in the cable car? This woman was beginning to exasperate him.

He unclipped his boots, and carried his skis and poles over towards her. But Samantha had stopped looking for him. She was too busy staring down the valley at the view. The cable-car building exited onto a terrace with spectacular views, and most people who came off the cable car came to an automatic halt as the sight took their breath away.

He could see the look of awe across her face, almost visible beneath her scowl. There was a little surge of pride in his chest. It seemed important that she like the surrounding area just as much as he did. They were nineteen hundred feet up here and the whole of Innsbruck was laid out beneath them like a miniature toy village. At the bottom of the mountain people moved around like ants, queuing for the cable cars, with some flashes of intermittent colour as skiers and snowboarders wound their way down the slopes.

He put his skis and poles over in a corner and walked up behind her. ‘See something you like?’

She jumped and turned around, her nose almost brushing against his ski jacket. She lifted her head and frowned. She didn’t look happy at all. ‘Where on earth have you been, Mitchell? I told you I’d meet you here. I’ve been up and down on that cable car twice.’ The tone of her voice was like that of a schoolteacher he’d had years ago. He hadn’t liked her.

It was amazing how this woman could make him mad within a few seconds.

‘Meeting up was your idea, not mine. And I never agreed to anything.’

She folded her arms across her chest. ‘Do you know what, Mitchell? You seem to be forgetting that—like it or not—I’m your nurse.’ She pointed to her chest. ‘You are under my care. You might be used to being the boss, but things have changed.’

It was amazing, the talent she had to really rile him and make his blood fizz with pure anger in his veins.

‘Who do you think you are? You aren’t in charge of me. I’m employing you, remember?’

She shook her head. ‘You might be footing the bill but until you’ve got this condition under control, you have to do what I say.’

‘I don’t have to do anything,’ he spat back, making a few people near them turn around.

‘Look, buddy, I’m the one that makes the decision about whether you’re fit to do your tour or not. And not following my instructions? That isn’t going to win you any prizes with me.’

He leaned forward, growling at her, ‘I’m not your buddy.’ It was the only coherent thing he could say right now. All meaningful arguments and sarcastic comments had sprinted from his brain in a fit of anger.

She sighed and rolled her eyes and he realised how pathetic he must be sounding. This woman made him feel like a naughty teenager. It had been a long time since someone had made him feel like that. He almost laughed out loud. No matter how much she was driving him crazy, she had a real spark about her. It was obvious she genuinely didn’t care who he was. There was no way she was taking orders from him.

It was refreshing. He’d spent the last few years with everyone around him jumping to do his bidding. It was amazing what money could buy you.

She pointed over her shoulder towards the restaurant. ‘I’m sincerely hoping that this snarkiness of yours is a symptom of hypo and not a personality trait. Because if it is...’ she lifted her eyebrows ‘...buddy, you and I are about to board a roller-coaster. Now, let’s eat, I’m starving. Some of us didn’t get to eat breakfast this morning.’

And she didn’t wait. She stalked off in front of him and into the canteen.

When was the last time that had happened? He shook his head and followed her, trying not to look at her butt in those jeans.

They walked through the glass doors and he was quickly ass

aulted by the familiar smell of roasting coffee beans, bacon and sweet pastries. Breakfast at the restaurant catered for all tastes.

He took a deep breath. If he played his cards right, he could get this over and done with in quick time. Then he might actually be able to hit the slopes again, and hopefully shake her off for the afternoon. He had things to do. It was time for the charm offensive—even if he didn’t really mean it. He held out his hands and spun around. ‘So, Sam, what do you fancy?’

She blushed. Instantly. The colour flooded into her cheeks. It was good for her. Out in the cold her skin had been even paler than before—this way she had colour about her.

The heat in her cheeks was matched by the rush of blood around his body. He’d been joking, of course he had. But, from the looks it, the thought of Mitchell as anything other than a patient had at least crossed her mind. That was good enough for him.

She hesitated. ‘We really should sit somewhere and check your blood sugar. That’s why I’m here. To make sure you don’t run into any problems on the mountain.’ Was she saying this out loud for his benefit or for hers?

‘And how do you expect to do that in those?’ He pointed at her flat rubber-soled boots, before looking around again. ‘Where are your skis anyway?’

‘Let’s do this first.’ She grabbed a tray and headed along the short line in the restaurant and he followed reluctantly. His stomach gave a growl. He was feeling hungry again, even though he’d had breakfast this morning. Then he remembered something else. The look on her face last night when he’d mentioned skiing. He’d assumed she just hadn’t welcomed the early start. But now it was adding up to something else entirely.

There could be an opportunity to take Ms Bossy Boots down a peg or two. This could actually be fun.

Just then a group of boisterous boarders came flooding through the glass doors. It was obvious they were on the adrenaline high of just having finished a run. There were no manners, no decorum, it was almost like a bull stampede. Three of them jostled and knocked into Sam, all of them talking at the tops of their voices and not even noticing what they’d done.