Sarah Morgan - Snow Crystal Trilogy - Sleigh Bells in the Snow / Suddenly Last Summer / Maybe This Christmas

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.”

“Of course it can. There’s nothing like the high you get from winning a big account, or getting a client profiled in their target media.”

“Nothing?” He leaned across and brushed his thumb over her mouth, and she stilled, feeling that touch right through her.

“What are you doing?”

“Removing chocolate from your lips.”

“I could have done that.”

“I guess you could.” He lowered his hand slowly. “But I did it.”

Heart pounding, she touched her fingers to her mouth where his had been only moments earlier. “Do all the O’Neils touch a lot? Last night your mother wanted to hug me, and she’d only just met me.”

“My mother has always known how to give a warm welcome. Does it bother you?”

Yes, it bothered her . “I suppose I’m not used to it.”

“You don’t come from a family of huggers?”

“Why are you so interested in my family?”

“Just a friendly question, Kayla. But if it makes you uncomfortable, you don’t have to answer.”

It made her uncomfortable. He made her uncomfortable.

She tried not to look at the width of those shoulders or the warmth of his gaze. “My family wasn’t tactile.”

“Wasn’t?”

“I mean isn’t.” Unused to talking about her family, she handled it clumsily, but he let it go.

“How did you end up in public relations?”

The shift in conversation was a relief. “When I graduated, I went for an interview with an advertising agency in London. They had a sister PR agency and during my interview they decided I was exactly what they were looking for. It took about six months to discover I had an aptitude for finding media angles and selling them to the press. After that I was promoted pretty quickly.”

“It must have been hard, moving to the U.S.”

“Not really. I didn’t have anything keeping me in London.”

“Your family isn’t there?”

And, just like that, they were right back to that question. “My mother lives in New Zealand. My father, in Canada.”

“So you were on your own in the U.K.?”

She’d been on her own for as long as she could remember. “It’s fairly common for families to be scattered these days.” Scattered was a good word. Lost might have been a better one.

She thought about the envelope waiting for her back in the cabin. Last year, the envelope had stayed untouched until February when she’d finally cleared out the bottom of her in-tray.

She was terrified Jackson was going to press her for more details, but he levered himself to his feet. “Are you done? I want to show you the ice waterfall before I take you skiing.”

Deciding that skiing had to be preferable to talking about her family, Kayla finished her drink and followed him to the snowmobile.

He stood steady in the deep snow, legs spread as he pulled on his gloves. “Do you want to drive?”

Remembering the twisty, turning trails and the skill he’d shown maneuvering the snowmobile, she shook her head. “Not this time. I’d rather let you do the work. When it comes to physical effort I’m inherently lazy.”

“So you’re a lie-back-and-let-it-happen sort of woman? That surprises me.” The gleam in those blue eyes made her feel as if she’d stepped off a cliff.

“Are you flirting with me?” She breathed and felt cold air rush into her lungs. Unfortunately it did nothing to cool the heat of her skin. “Because if you are, I’d have to warn you that you’re wasting your time.”

“It’s my time.” His gaze steady on hers, he picked up his helmet. “Up to me how I choose to waste it.”

“Just as long as you know I’m not good at personal relationships.”

“Who told you that?”

“No one. I have impressive self-insight. I know what I’m good at. I know what I’m bad at. I’m bad at relationships. Not just bad, terrible. The truth is I find work more interesting than any man.” There. She’d said it. And he was still standing there. Still watching her with eyes that saw far, far too much.

“Surely that would depend on the man.”

“I’d rather check my emails than go on a date. And if I do go on a date, I still check them.”

“Is that right?” He reached out and tilted her chin, and she froze, but all he did was zip her jacket to her throat and smile at her. “The internet connection is pretty unpredictable up here. You might have to find another way to occupy yourself on a date, Kayla.”

“I don’t intend to go on a date. I’m here to work.”

“So your plan for dealing with chemistry is to pretend it doesn’t exist?”

“Chemistry?” The word came out like a croak, and his eyes creased at the corners.

“Yeah, that chemistry. Seems to me we have two choices here. We can try to ignore it or we can go with it and see where we end up.”

“Option one works for me.”

“That could give me a problem.”

Her mouth was dry. “Why?”

“Because I’m leaning toward option two.” For a crazy, heart-stopping moment she thought he was going to kiss her. Then his smile widened and he stepped away. “The snow is likely to be deep up ahead. Hold on tight.”