Cassie Miles - Snow Blind

When she turned her head, her face was only inches away from his. She wished with all her heart that she could be someone he trusted.

“You’re the only one.”

“When I saw that you weren’t in the car, I was scared.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “If anything bad had happened to you, I’d never forgive myself.”

She wanted to lean a little closer and brush her lips across his. A kiss—even a quick kiss— wasn’t acceptable behavior, but she couldn’t help the yearning that was building inside her.

“Do you want me to go back to the car?”

“I want you where I can see you. Stay with me.”

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Though born in Chicago and raised in L.A., USA TODAY bestselling author CASSIE MILEShas lived in Colorado long enough to be considered a semi-native. The first home she owned was a log cabin in the mountains overlooking Elk Creek, with a thirty-mile commute to her work at the Denver Post.

After raising two daughters and cooking tons of macaroni and cheese for her family, Cassie is trying to be more adventurous in her culinary efforts. Ceviche, anyone? She’s discovered that almost anything tastes better with wine. When she’s not plotting Mills & Boon® Intrigue books, Cassie likes to hang out at the Denver Botanical Gardens near her high-rise home.

To the brilliant RMFW romance critique group and, as always, to Rick.

Contents

Cover

Introduction “I believe you. Again, I believe you saw a man and heard an engine.” When she turned her head, her face was only inches away from his. She wished with all her heart that she could be someone he trusted. “You’re the only one.” “When I saw that you weren’t in the car, I was scared.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “If anything bad had happened to you, I’d never forgive myself.” She wanted to lean a little closer and brush her lips across his. A kiss—even a quick kiss— wasn’t acceptable behavior, but she couldn’t help the yearning that was building inside her. “Do you want me to go back to the car?” “I want you where I can see you. Stay with me.”

Title Page Snow Blind Cassie Miles www.millsandboon.co.uk

About the Author Though born in Chicago and raised in L.A., USA TODAY bestselling author CASSIE MILES has lived in Colorado long enough to be considered a semi-native. The first home she owned was a log cabin in the mountains overlooking Elk Creek, with a thirty-mile commute to her work at the Denver Post. After raising two daughters and cooking tons of macaroni and cheese for her family, Cassie is trying to be more adventurous in her culinary efforts. Ceviche, anyone? She’s discovered that almost anything tastes better with wine. When she’s not plotting Mills & Boon® Intrigue books, Cassie likes to hang out at the Denver Botanical Gardens near her high-rise home.

Dedication To the brilliant RMFW romance critique group and, as always, to Rick.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Epilogue

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

If ninety-two-year-old mogul and client Virgil P. Westfield hadn’t died last night under suspicious circumstances, legal assistant Sasha Campbell would never have been entrusted with this important assignment in the up-and-coming resort town of Arcadia, Colorado. She draped her garment bag over a chair and strolled across the thick carpet in the posh, spacious, brand-new corporate condo owned by her employer, the law firm of Samuels, Sorenson and Smith, often referred to as the Three Ss, or the Three Asses, depending upon one’s perspective. Currently, she was in their good graces, especially with her boss, Damien Loughlin, Westfield’s lawyer-slash-confidant back in Denver, and she meant to keep it that way. With this assignment, she could prove herself to be professional and worthy of promotion. Someday, she wanted to get more training and become a mediator.

“Where do you want the suitcase?” Her brother Alex was a junior member of the legal team at the Three Ss and had driven her here from Denver. He hauled her luggage through the condo’s entrance.

“Just leave it by the door. I’ll figure that out later.”

Before the mysterious death of Mr. Westfield, she and Damien had been scheduled to stay at the five-bedroom condo while attending a week-long series of meetings with the four investors who had financed Arcadia Ski Resort—Colorado’s newest luxury destination for winter sports.

That plan had changed. Damien would stay in Denver, dealing with problems surrounding the Westfield estate, and Sasha was on her own at Arcadia. Nobody expected her to replace a senior partner, of course. She was a legal assistant, not a lawyer. But she’d been sitting in on the Arcadia meetings for months. They knew and trusted her. And Damien would be in constant contact via internet conferencing. Frankly, she was glad she wouldn’t have to put up with Damien’s posturing; the meetings went more smoothly when he wasn’t there.

Drawn to the view through the windows, she crossed the room, unlocked the door and stepped onto the balcony to watch the glorious sunset over the ski slopes. Though the resort wouldn’t be officially open until the gala event on Saturday, the chairlifts and gondolas were already in operation. She saw faraway skiers and snowboarders racing over moguls on their last runs of the day. Streaks of crimson, pink and gold lit the skies and reflected in the windows of the nine-story Gateway Hotel opposite the condo. In spite of the cold and the snow, she felt warmed from within.

Life was good. Her bills were paid. She liked her job. And she’d knocked off those pesky five pounds and fit into her skinny jeans with an inch to spare. Even the new highlights and lowlights in her long blond hair had turned out great. She was gradually trying to go a few shades darker. At the law office, it was bad enough to be only twenty-three years old. But being blonde on top of that? She wanted to go for a more serious look so she’d be considered for more of these serious assignments. Alex tromped onto the balcony. “I can’t believe you get to stay here for five days for free.”

“Jealous?”

“It’s not fair. You don’t even ski.”

He gestured with his hands inside his pockets, causing his black overcoat to flap like a raven’s wings. There hadn’t been time for him to change from his suit and tie before they’d left Denver. Throughout the two-and-a-half-hour drive, he’d complained about her good luck in being chosen for this assignment. Among her four older brothers and sisters, Alex was the grumpy one, the sorest of sore losers and a vicious tease.

She wouldn’t have asked him to drive her, but she’d been expecting to ride up with Damien since her car was in the shop. “This isn’t really a vacation. I have to record the meetings and take notes every morning.”

“Big whoop,” he muttered. “You should send the late Virgil P. a thank-you card for taking a header down the grand staircase in his mansion.”

“That’s a horrible thing to say.” Mr. Westfield was a nice old gentleman who had bequeathed a chunk of his fortune to a cat-rescue organization. His heirs didn’t appreciate that generosity.