“You’re all heart, boss.”
“No worries.”
Across the table, Jackson O’Neil was still watching her. Beneath the well-cut suit he exuded a raw sexuality that made it almost impossible for a woman to look away.
“Would you describe yourself as an outdoor girl, Kayla?”
Not in a million years. “I don’t spend anywhere near as much time outdoors as I would like—” she adopted a regretful tone “—so I’m looking forward to rectifying that. And I love snow. Love it.” Maybe she should have said that once. Maybe twice was overdoing it.
“That’s good to hear.” That hypnotic blue gaze didn’t shift from hers. “So you ski?”
Remembering the picture of him plunging into a deep, snow-filled gully, Kayla decided it was safer not to lie about that. “Not exactly, but I’ve always wanted to, so this will be the perfect opportunity. I can’t wait, although I think my preference will probably be for—er—flat slopes.”
Dark brows rose. “Flat slopes?”
“Nothing too—” she tilted her hand to demonstrate a steep gradient “—terrifying.”
“Right.” He rubbed his hand over his jaw, and she had a feeling he was smiling. “Flat slopes. I admire your dedication.” He rose to his feet, lithe and athletic. One glance at his powerful thighs told her that this man didn’t expect his slopes to be flat.
She hoped he still admired her dedication when she was lying prostrate at his feet.
Belatedly, Kayla realized that spending a week at Snow Crystal meant spending a week in the close company of Jackson O’Neil, a man whose idea of fun was to jump off cliffs and land on a near-vertical slope.
Maybe she should have been more honest about her lack of experience.
Maybe she should book herself a hospital bed right now.
Gathering up her notes, she produced her most reassuring corporate smile and walked around to his side of the table. “Here at Innovation we’re always willing to go that extra mile for a client.” Preferably not downhill on skis, but if that was the only way then so be it. “Fast paced and focused. That’s what we do.” She stuck out her hand and then wished she hadn’t, as strong, male fingers closed over hers.
She tried not to wince.
The guy was strong enough to kill a moose with his bare hands. And even though she was wearing her favorite confidence-inducing killer heels, he was taller. His hair was dark and gleamed under the harsh lighting of the boardroom. It should have been unforgiving, but it simply served to spotlight his spectacular good looks.
“Let me know when your flight gets in and I’ll pick you up from the airport.” He released her hand. “We’ll do what we can to make the holidays special for you. It will give you a chance to try a variety of winter sports seeing as you—er—love snow so much.” The glitter in his eyes told her he’d guessed that her only contact with snow up until now had been to stare at it through the office window and brush it off her coat.
She told herself it didn’t matter.
“Secluded cabin, log fire, views of a frozen lake—” No Santa, no store window displays or canned Christmas music and most of all, no memories. “It doesn’t get any more perfect than that. Have a safe trip home.”
THE WOMAN HAD obviously never been near real snow in her life.
Hiding a smile, Jackson snapped his bag shut and watched as she walked briskly away from him, those incredible legs accentuated by heels so high she almost needed to breathe additional oxygen. Her hair was smooth and silky and brushed her shoulders in a perfectly tamed curtain of pale gold. He was willing to bet Kayla Green had never had a bad hair day in her life. Everything about her was ruthlessly polished and controlled. He wondered idly what would happen to that hair after she’d spent a day in the mountains.
He wondered who she was under the gloss.
“I didn’t expect her to be able to come over the holidays.” He hadn’t expected the chemistry, either, but he let that pass. He had enough complications in his life without adding more. “There can’t be many people her age who would choose to spend Christmas in an isolated cabin, however luxurious.”
“That’s Kayla. If she’s on a project then she’s on it a hundred and fifty percent. She’s brilliant and she has the best media contacts in the business. It’s the reason I poached her from the London office. The girl is a tiger.”
He was banking on it. He needed someone besides him who would take the business seriously. But still—
“She didn’t have plans to return home for Christmas?”
Clearly that possibility hadn’t occurred to Brett, who shrugged. “If she did, she’ll cancel. Snow Crystal is our top priority, and she’s the woman to make it happen.”
They walked together through to the foyer and Jackson paused, ignoring the long, speculative look the pretty receptionist sent in his direction.
“Does she never relax?”
“I’m not paying her to relax.” Brett produced a smile in response to Jackson’s raised eyebrow. “Sure, she relaxes. When she’s asleep. That’s the only time any of us relaxes. Drives my wife crazy. But Kayla’s adaptable, and she’ll do anything for her clients. If you need her to ski, she’ll ski. Wrestle a bear—she’ll wrestle a bear. No worries.”
Jackson didn’t reply. He was willing to bet if Kayla Green saw a bear they’d hear the screams back in New York.
For the past eighteen months, he’d thought of nothing but Snow Crystal, but suddenly all he could think of was joining Kayla in the secluded log cabin away from the outside world. His mind, starved of other outlets for creativity, used its creative talents to imagine her naked in the hot tub, cheeks pink, that smooth blond hair curling in the steam.
Damn.
Thanks to the influence of his family, he was taking unprofessional to a whole new level.
“YOU’RE WORKING OVER the holidays?” Stacy stared at her in dismay. “Kayla, that totally sucks.”
It was a dream come true. “It’s a bummer, but I’ll live with it,” Kayla said happily.
“But what about Christmas?”
“Christmas is canceled.” She resisted the temptation to dance across her office.
“You’re being so brave about it.”
“I’m gutted, but there’s no point in moaning.”
“That is so unfair of Brett.” Stacy was outraged. “You should be partying. Enjoying yourself. I don’t mean to be personal, but when did you last go on a date?”
“Date?” Why did everyone keep asking so many difficult questions? “Er—there was that guy from the twentieth floor—I saw him a couple of times.”
“If you’re talking about the accountant, you saw him once.”
“I’m not good at long relationships.” Kayla piled everything she had on Snow Crystal into her bag. “Did you call everyone for a meeting?”
“Yes. And Kayla, one date is not a relationship.”
“My point exactly.”
“Are you sure you won’t come with us tomorrow? We’re meeting at 7:00 a.m. downstairs at the Rockefeller Centre for the first skate of the day. Full VIP package. Hot chocolate and skate concierge. We’d love for you to join us.”
“What the hell is skate concierge?” Kayla reached for the bottle of water she kept on her desk.
“Some