Anita Bunkley - Suite Embrace

“You’ve come to the right place to get outfitted, then,” Cindy said, stopping near a section of the store that was brimming with turtlenecks, blouses, slacks and jackets in every color and style imaginable.

“Okay. I’m lost, Cindy. Tell me what I need,” Skylar commented, fingering a silky top as she set off to create her new wardrobe.

For the next hour, Skylar tried on a variety of slacks, tops, parkas, boots, sweaters, socks, gloves and hats. By the time she was completely outfitted she was exhausted, and her checking account was about to be a little thinner, though, with Cindy’s guidance, she had found some very good bargains. Among them were a hooded parka with a fluffy raccoon collar, several thermo-stretch ski pants with matching tops, over-the-boot pants with coordinated wool cardigans, suede gloves and a Daniel Boone-style coyote hat.

“Fabulous choices,” Cindy remarked as she finished ringing up Skylar’s purchases. “And you saved a bit, too. But…oh my gosh, we forgot one very important item. Sunglasses and goggles. Up here, they’re absolutely necessary. Gotta cover those eyes and keep those wrinkles away. And if you do decide to get out on the slopes, you don’t want to go snow-blind, do you?” Cindy giggled and inclined her head toward a wall at the back of the shop. “Why don’t you go pick out a pair of sunglasses while I package your purchases and finish up here? And if you give me your car keys, I’ll have one of the stock boys put everything in your car.”

Trusting Cindy’s advice once again, Skylar handed over the keys to the Jeep she had rented at the airport and told Cindy where she was parked. Doing as she was told, she walked toward the back of the store where a number of display stands with a variety of sunglasses and goggles filled a corner.

Skylar stopped at the first display and selected a pair of shades with brown, tortoiseshell frames, slipped them on and then shook her head. Not for her. They didn’t flatter her face at all. After several more try-ons, she moved over to the next rack to stand opposite a man and a woman who were discussing a pair of black wraparound goggles.

The man was wearing a red down jacket with the hood thrown back, exposing a mass of tawny-brown hair that almost touched his shoulders. Skylar found the sight intriguing, yet a bit unnerving. How could a man have such gorgeous hair? Skylar thought, curious to see more of him. She edged forward a few inches and cut her eyes in his direction, visually following him as he walked over to a full-length mirror and tried on the goggles. She observed that his hair had a definite wave to it and his skin was golden tan. Skylar was pretty sure he was African-American, or at least of African descent.

After adjusting his goggles a few times, the man turned around and looked over at Skylar, catching her watching him.

With a start, she gasped and glanced away, unsure of why she had reacted so strongly, but keenly aware that she had been struck by something magnetic and powerful radiating from the guy, who quickly returned to studying his image in the mirror.

Curious, she chanced another peek. He looked mature. Maybe late thirties, she thought. She was stunned that she was actually calculating this stranger’s age and checking out his left hand. Umm…no ring there. However, he did have a flashy sparkler on his little finger.

Either this brother is filthy rich or seriously into high-profile bling, she decided, certain that the stone flashing back at her was much too large to be real.

Moving to another rack of glasses, she acted as if she was trying to pick out another to try on as she fingered a wire-rimmed pair, trying to ignore the guy. But she couldn’t resist peering over at him once more, and this time she really scrutinized features not hidden by his wraparound goggles. He had a prickly stubble of light brown hair shading his jaw and a tiny gold earring in his left ear. His nose, softly sculpted and wide at the base settled nicely above a set of perfectly shaped, white teeth that peeked out from behind lips that were generously full and wickedly sensuous.

Very kissable lips, she thought, sighing inwardly while admonishing herself for even thinking such crazy thoughts. She had come to Aspen to clear her mind, help her sister out and get over Lewis’s betrayal, not check out the available brothers or get romantically involved with a new man. But what harm was there in looking? she asked herself, liking what she saw.

She guessed that the eyes hidden behind those dark glasses were probably hazel, or maybe golden-brown like tiger’s eyes, and wondered if the broad stretch of his shoulder line was natural or the result of the padding in his parka. His skin, a beautiful tannish golden brown that perfectly matched his hair, stood in definite contrast to the woman with him, who was pale, blonde and ski-pole thin.

The blonde looked over and squinted, not happy to catch Skylar watching her man. The two locked eyes for a moment before Skylar broke off and focused on the sunglasses, putting the oddly matched couple and her curiosity about the guy out of her thoughts.

After a few quick try-ons, Skylar decided on a pair of silver framed aviators with bronze lenses reduced from $199 to $59.99. Turning, she prepared to leave.

“I wouldn’t get those if I were you,” the man in the red jacket told Skylar.

“Excuse me?” Skylar said, startled by the stranger’s remark.

“Those won’t do the job on the slopes. You need something with better protection,” he admonished, as if talking to a child. “Inside the store, they look a lot darker than they are. Outside, they won’t cut much light.”

“Thanks, but I think they’ll do just fine,” Skylar replied, trying to sound pleasant, even though his remark had struck her as rather presumptuous. He might be good looking but he wasn’t cute enough to take orders from. What did he know about sunglasses that made him such an expert anyway? She liked the aviators and they were exactly what she wanted.

“Try on the black wraps. You’ll love them,” the man suggested nonchalantly.

With a drop of her shoulders, Skylar simply stared at him as if he were crazy. She was tired, hungry and more than ready to get out of the store. The glasses in her hand would do just fine. It was getting late and she still had to stop at the drugstore to pick up a few toiletries and then hit the gas station to top off the tank of her rented Jeep before setting off to Scenic Ridge. She shook her head, “No thanks. I’ve got to get going.” She started to walk away.

“Trust me. They won’t be what you want,” the man in the red parka called out after Skylar.

His bossy tone set her teeth on edge. She stopped in mid-stride and whirled around. Who the hell are you to tell me what to buy? But, blinking her eyes and sucking back a smart remark, she decided it might not be a good idea to go off on the guy in public. This was a classy place and she didn’t want to make a scene, but it was hard to keep from flaring up at him.

“I’m fine with these,” she managed in a tight voice, thinking that the guy had some kind of an accent that she couldn’t place. Not African. Not Hispanic. And not French. He must be from the islands…overly friendly. Or he didn’t know any better, she decided, willing to forgive his rude behavior. “I appreciate your interest,” she told him. “However, I prefer the ones I picked out.”

“You’ll be sorry,” he insisted as he reached for a pair of Manu wraps similar to those that both he and the blonde woman were wearing. He held them up and swung them back and forth in Skylar’s face. “These are a bit more expensive than the aviators, but if you can afford them, I’d go with these. Think of it as an investment in your eyes.”