my neck.
I lean back. “I love it here so much. I might never go back.”
“We can come again, another time.”
I nod, even though that will never happen and it’s so sweet of Christian to make the offer. I tap his hands. “You better get out there. Show Cynthia what you’ve got.”
He chuckles at that and the sound reverberates through me, wraps around my heart and gives a loving squeeze. “Okay, and then later, by the fire, I’ll show you what I’ve got.”
“I know what you’ve got.” I turn in his arms. “And I like it.”
We stand there and exchange a low slow kiss, like neither of us are in a hurry to go. I finally break it and give him a little shove. He groans, and I follow him inside, locking the door behind me. Twenty minutes later, I’m kissing him at the lobby door before he disappears and I stand there and watch, my arms wrapped around myself for warmth as he puts on his skis and heads to the lift. That might be fun, going up on a lift, seeing the town from way up high. Only problem is, I’d have to drop to my rear end and slide all the way down, because I am not risking another ankle injury. I didn’t say anything to Christian, but it’s sort of aching in this cold weather.
I hike my backpack up higher on my shoulder and find a comfy chair by the big window. I order a big mug of hot chocolate and marshmallows—calories don’t count on vacation, remember—and settle in to do some studying. Minutes turn into hours and every now and then I peek at the hill. When I see two people coming down together, I stand to get a better look. I can make out Christian because I know what he’s wearing, and I can only assume the girl with him is Cynthia. I drop back into my seat and try not to feel a measure of worry. It’s silly, he said they were never together, and we’re not really together, so I have no reason to be jealous. Was it her he called and whispered to earlier this morning?
Ugh, stop.
I push those thoughts from my brain and drop back into my chair. I turn my focus to my books and work to concentrate. Over the next half hour, the lobby fills up a little more, a tour bus drops off a few skiers, and the chatter and commotion make it a bit hard to concentrate. I stretch and check the time, and consider going back to the room for a quick nap, when someone moves my hair and presses their lips to my neck.
I gasp and jump from my chair, and nearly twist my damn ankle.
“Whoa, easy,” Christian says, his lips twisted. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. Sorry about that.”
I laugh it off. “It’s okay. I have no idea why I was so jumpy.”
He pulls me to him, and I smell the fresh air on his clothes and skin as he presses his lips to mine for a soft kiss.
“Did you have fun?” I ask.
“Yeah, I love the slopes, but I kept thinking about you back here by yourself.”
“I told you I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.”
He gives me a playful grin. “But isn’t it more fun when I take care of you?”
I put my hands on his chest, and his coat is cold against my fingers. “Do you have something in mind?”
He checks his watch and I try not to give into the disappointment in my gut. Does he have somewhere else to be, something more important pressing at him?
“Yes, but it will have to wait.”
“Okay,” I say and go to sit down again when he stops me.
“What are you doing?”
“You have somewhere to be, so I’ll get some more studying done.”
“Where I’m going, you’re coming,” he says, and scoops up my backpack. He shoves my books inside and I stand there frowning at him, having no idea what he’s talking about.
“Are we getting something to eat?” I ask, noting it’s well past lunch time and he’s probably starving from all the exercise.
“Eventually.” He takes my hand and leads me to the lodge ski shop that carries every expensive brand of winter clothing known to mankind. “You need a better coat, hat, and mitts for what I have in mind.”
I pull my hand from his, and back up an inch. “Christian, no. I don’t need anything.”
He puts his hands