Instead, they talked about books. Her tastes were wonderfully eclectic, ranging from romance to science fiction and then to political thrillers. It seemed there wasn’t a book she hadn’t read. They talked about plots and stories. They connected on characters and laughed about things they’d read.
It was one of the best conversations he’d had in a long time.
“Can I buy you lunch?” she asked as they finished their third run together. Her cheeks were flushed with the cold and exertion.
“You want to buy me lunch?” Nathan’s eyebrows raised. Usually, he was the one making the offer of buying lunch. It came with having the title of billionaire. Everyone expected him to pay for things.
“Yeah.” She shrugged. “My treat.”
A warm wave of surprise washed over him. “Sure. What were you thinking?”
She bit her lower lip and smiled bashfully up at him. “I actually have no idea where we should eat. I’m just hungry. Those waffles were a long time ago.”
He chuckled. “There’s two options. The lodge has great sandwiches and burgers, or there’s a restaurant at the top of the Kicking Horse Chairlift. It’s got amazing views and the food is delicious.”
She chewed on her bottom lip for a moment. “You know what? Go big or go home. Let’s do the restaurant at the top.” She grinned. “Race you to the lift.”
She took off, moving her skis from side to side and using her poles to propel her forward. Nathan stayed back, enjoying watching the swing of her hips. He found her curves alluring. He usually dated waif-like models, but they left him unsatisfied.
Maybe he had been dating the wrong kind of woman.
They took the lift to the top of the mountain. The sun played peek-a-boo behind the clouds, casting long shadows on the white powdery snow.
“Where now?” she asked, when they got off the lift.
“We go to Kicking Horse,” Nathan replied. “This way.”
He turned and took a path they hadn’t taken yet. It went down the backside of the mountain. She kept up easily, her blonde hair streaming out behind her from under her helmet.
“Turn left, Snow-bunny,” he called. She pivoted on her skis and took the turn, narrowly avoiding a clump of trees. He followed close behind her, chasing her with his speed.
She looked back at him and grinned, tucking her arms and bending her knees into a racing stance. She flew down one path, heading toward the now visible chair-lift. He was doing everything he could to pass her. She wasn’t going to let him win, and he liked the competition.
On the last stretch to the lift, his extra weight gave him the edge. He finally managed to pass her, coming in first to stop at the entrance to the lift. She came in hot on his heels and did a hockey stop, blasting him with snow.
She took one look at him and doubled over in laughter. He had snow coating his entire front. She’d hit a perfect patch of powdered snow and managed to completely paint the front of him in white.
“Nice stop,” he said, with a chuckle. He wiped his gloved hands over his glasses so that he could see again. He shook himself like a wet dog, but most of the snow stayed stuck to his jacket and ski-pants.
She reached out and carefully dusted some of the snow from his shoulders.
“You have a little something on you,” she said, leaving the majority of the snow still resting on his head and chest.
He took the opportunity to grab some snow from the drift behind him, turning it into a snowball. He threw it at her.
The snowball hit her helmet with a splat. He could see her eyes go wide in her ski-goggles before narrowing.
With a smooth motion, she used her poles to pop the bindings on her boots and freed herself from her skis. With her long skis no longer limiting her range of motion, she reached down, grabbed a snowball and threw it back at him.
It hit him square in the chest, simply adding to the snow already there.
He grinned. This meant war.
Nathan popped himself out of his skis, dropped his poles and retaliated with a well aimed snowball to her chest. She twisted, moving her body at the last second to avoid being hit, but he had a second one ready. She managed to miss that one as well.
“You think you can get me?” she teased, splattering a snowball against his arm. She’d managed to hit him twice now while seeming to avoid every snowball he threw at her. “I play dodge-ball on a regular basis. You’re going to have to do better than that!”
He sent another ball of snow heading straight for her back, but once again she danced right out from under it.