Cathryn Parry - Something to Prove

The elevator door dinged and then opened, causing him to stiffen with anticipation, but the car was empty. It looked as if she wasn’t coming after all. When he’d called her, he’d been hoping that if he got her outside, onto the mountain, maybe he could make that light come on in her eyes, the way it did when she talked about her job. Yeah, she was a girl from the north country, but by her own admission she had traveled a long way since those days. He’d needed to know if she could get past her aversion to skiing. For some reason, it was important to him to find out. Judging from their phone conversation, the answer was a resounding no.

Maybe it was better she hadn’t shown up.

He turned to leave as the elevator dinged again. This time, Amanda walked out. He stared at her, his fingers curling into his palms.

Her hair was loose and she wore tight jeans and a sexy red top that perfectly hugged her curves. Those weren’t ski clothes by any stretch of the imagination, but she looked amazing enough that it didn’t matter.

Then she saw him, and her smile lit up the entire lobby. All the tightness in his chest disappeared and he felt lifted and buoyed.

She marched right up to him. “Ciao, Brody.” Her smile was slightly higher on one side, devilishly crooked. She rose on her toes, then she was in his space and all he could smell was her amazing spa-forest scent that she carried with her wherever she went. She arrowed her gorgeous lips to his.

“Ciao, Amanda.” He bent his head. He was six feet one to her—maybe—mid five feet. She’s gonna tease me with one of those European double-kisses, he figured. But, nope, she shocked him and pressed her lips to his, kissing him firmly on the mouth. A hot, honest North American kiss.

Damn. His soul seemed to corkscrew, and he lost his equilibrium. Which for a skier was unheard of.

She stared up at him, her eyes wide, her lips parted. This was where, two years ago, he would have led her out to his motor home. Maybe she would have stayed for an hour or two, but then he would have helped her dress and leave, never to see her again.

He didn’t want that from her. This time, everything felt different.

Leaning his hands against the fountain, he steadied himself. “I, ah, wasn’t expecting that.”

“I know.” Her eyes sparkled. “Now what’s this about something on the mountain you want me to see?”

“It’s a surprise. You don’t want me to ruin a surprise, do you?”

She crossed her arms. “Did Jeannie put you up to this?”

“Jean—?” He shook his head. No, it was better to be honest with her. He wasn’t setting himself up for anything that could come back to haunt him.

“Truthfully, I’m, ah, under orders to get away and go free skiing.” He saw the confusion on her face. “That means to relax and enjoy myself. Naturally, you were the first person I thought to call.”

She tapped her foot as if skeptical, but he could tell she was pleased with his answer. “You couldn’t go skiing alone and then give me a call afterward?”

“Nope. Too dangerous to ski alone.”

“And everybody else is busy?”

He hoped so. By reflex, he gave a furtive glance around the lobby, but the floors echoed with the footsteps of a lone guy headed in the direction of the cocktail party. The guy waved at Brody. “Welcome back,” he called with a German accent.

Brody nodded to the skier. He wasn’t sure who he was, someone new on the circuit probably, but they’d catch up next week.

He turned to Amanda and gave her a wide smile. “Looks like it’s just us. Will you trust me to get you down the slope safely, or are you going to give up and go back to your room without even trying?”

A crease appeared across her brow. His hunch was right; she was too competitive to let him get the best of her, even if it meant facing her fears on the slope. Good—she had guts.

She smiled back at him. “Actually, that depends on you, Brody. Do you think your manhood can handle your fans seeing you taking the baby bunny trail down the mountain?”

“The baby…” Did she mean the easy slope? “Of course, Amanda, I will absolutely follow your wishes.”

“No matter how bad it makes you look to your friends?”

“Standing next to you, it’s impossible to look bad.”

She laughed and made a show of rolling her eyes, but beneath her joking exterior he did sense real vulnerability. “Sure, Brody, that’s what you say now. Just wait until you get to know me better.”

He was hoping he got to know her a lot better; that was the whole point.

But right now, he had a feeling she was far more fragile inside than she wanted to admit. So he led the way to the rental shop, taking it slow.

CHAPTER FOUR

TWENTY MINUTES LATER, Amanda stood outside the rental shop by the ski lift to the bunny slope. Was she nuts? When she’d come down to the lobby to meet Brody she’d been fully determined to talk him out of his crazy plan. Never in a million years had she intended to actually go through with it.

And now look at her. Her feet were encased in boots as heavy as Frankenstein’s clunkers, and the skis made a hollow pinging sound when she stomped on them.

At least Brody had promised they wouldn’t tackle the difficult black diamond slopes. Her knees were shaking. Her hands were sweating inside her gloves, and she’d already dropped her ski poles twice. She was reminded why her ski-coach father had disgustedly given up on her years ago.

But Brody leaned over, patiently buckling her feet into the bindings on her skis. The one sweet spot in the last twenty minutes was in watching this new side to him. As he leaned over, the muscular curve of his back was visible even beneath his black parka. He glanced up at her, his skin flushed from the cold air, his baby blues on fire, and a longing for something she couldn’t define washed over her.

“How does that feel, Manda? Are you comfortable?”

“If you call being strapped into a death contraption comfortable,” she joked.

His brow crinkled. “What happened to the New Hampshire girl who used to ski as a kid?”

“She moved to New York and discovered the subway and all-night taxi service.”

He laughed and straightened, settling his dark, bad-ass sunglasses over his eyes. “Do you ever miss the fresh air? Or does concrete and smog make you happy?”

“I wouldn’t be here if I couldn’t handle it.”

He smiled and guided her up the gentle slope toward the chairlift, his hand on her elbow. His touch, even through layers of clothing, sent heat flooding through her.

She had officially lost her mind. “Uh, Brody, I wasn’t lying when I told you I don’t know how to ski anymore. Sorry.”

He gave her a look that said he didn’t believe her. “You skied before. Once you learn, it never leaves your muscle memory.”

“Then I must be the exception to the rule.” She hastened to keep up beside him. “Because the only memories I carry in my muscles are typing and the occasional yoga class.”

“You take yoga?” He gazed at her with interest.

“Yep.” She nodded proudly. “Downward dog and the warrior pose. That I can do.”

His mouth quirked. “I’d like to see that.”

“Great. Then let’s go back to the hotel and forget this skiing stuff.”

He shook his head slowly but his smile was wide. “Because you think you can’t do it anymore?”

“I know I can’t. I’m no Jeannie Jensen, you know.”

He stopped and pointed behind them. “If you can’t ski, Amanda, then what do you call that?”

She blinked behind them at the dual trail of ski tracks in their wake. They’d covered about forty yards together across the snow. She hadn’t even realized.

“You grew up in the mountains,” he said. “You don’t lose what was part of you, deep down.” He stamped his skis on the hard-packed snow. “And you can trust my professional opinion, because I’ve taught clinics with newbies in the sport. Some of them can’t go five yards without falling on their duffs. Obviously, you don’t have that problem.”