Her cheeks heated. “Not at the moment. But you don’t know what you’re offering. You only saw me do one run.”
“I’d like to ski with you. I won’t let you get hurt, Jillian.” His eyes had darkened to charcoal. “You can trust me.”
Jillian found herself nodding.
“Good.” Mark replaced his sunglasses. “I’ll tell our instructor we’re bailing out.”
Watching him ski away, Jillian fanned her warm face with her gloved hand, as agitated as a high school freshman who’d talked to her secret crush. She’d been so worried about getting up and down the mountain she’d never thought Mark might consider her more than someone to talk to in class. But why else would he have invited her to ski with him, asked her marital status, looked at her like that?
Get real. She dropped her flapping hand. He was bored with a class far too easy for him, didn’t want to risk a run-in with a jealous boyfriend or husband, and had looked so serious and intensely at her because he was a serious, intense kind of guy. Accountant-like. All he wanted to do was ski with her, and she had a feeling a couple runs would be enough for both of them.
* * * *
To Jillian’s surprise, she ended up skiing with Mark the entire afternoon. He was right. She kept her skis under control by making slow, wide turns, as innumerable instructors had also told her. This time, however, she didn’t have to worry about anyone smashing into her because Mark skied above her, encouraging her. Her confidence grew, until after a lengthy chairlift ride, she looked down on an incline in Mount Everest territory, at least according to the figure eights her stomach was doing. “No way.” She turned to find another route down.
Mark had been admiring the scenery, but now he caught her arm and met her eyes. He’d replaced his sunglasses with metal-rimmed glasses. “You can do it, Jillian. Just keep doing what you’ve been doing. I’ll be right behind you.”
Jillian took a deep breath, tightened her hands on her poles, and pushed herself off. She started slowly, her skis barely angled downhill, with Mark skiing above her. After a moment, though, she realized she had enough control to avoid any skiers in her way. She didn’t need his protection. She accelerated, her skis gliding across snow that glistened like platinum in the late afternoon sun, a cool breeze caressing her cheeks. By the time she reached the bottom she was laughing, her heart pounding with exhilaration and adrenaline as if she’d won Olympic gold rather than simply made it down an intermediate slope. She grabbed Mark’s arm the instant he skied up beside her. “That was wonderful. I felt like I was flying. Thank you.”
“My pleasure.” His smile was warm, his eyes even warmer. Her body heated as she stood there, staring at him.
He broke eye contact, pulled up his sleeve, and glanced at his watch. “It’s ten after four,” he said in the easy tone he’d used all afternoon. “How much longer do you want to ski?”
Jillian forced herself to match his tone. “I’d better stop now. I was supposed to meet Kristen at the lodge at four, and if I’m any later, she’ll worry I broke something major. Thanks for your help.”
“I enjoyed it.”
“Maybe I’ll run into you again. Hopefully not literally.” She started for the lodge.
“Would you have dinner with me tonight?”
Jillian turned back toward Mark. She hadn’t seen that one coming. Of course, she wouldn’t accept, even though he’d told her he was single and unattached. Skiing together was one thing, but a date was an entirely different matter. She never dated any man she hadn’t checked out and certainly not one she’d met on the ski slopes who might be lying about his marital status, his name, even be a vacationing serial killer for all she knew. She opened her mouth to refuse.
And met his dark velvet eyes. On the other hand, she’d drive herself, and how much trouble could she get into at a crowded restaurant? “I’d like that.”
* * * *
“You have a date tonight and didn’t tell me before now?” Kristen Bartlett plopped down on a brown leather sofa in the living room of her parents’ townhouse. Despite a day of skiing, her shoulder-length dark hair fell in a smooth, shining bob, and her makeup was as flawless as when they’d left the townhouse that morning. Then again, Kristen always looked perfect. Tall, naturally thin, and model beautiful, she was also one of those woman who never had a bad hair or fat jeans day, never got dark circles, zits, or chipped a nail. She even looked good when she cried.
Jillian had decided long ago that if she hadn’t loved Kristen like a sister, she would definitely have hated her.
“I waited until we got somewhere private because I knew you’d make it into a big deal, even though it isn’t,” Jillian said.
“It’s a very big deal.” Kristen rested her stocking feet on the reclaimed wood coffee table. “You haven’t had a single date in over six months. I didn’t even take that long after my divorce.”
“I’ve been busy.” Jillian walked to the kitchen. She really didn’t want to have this discussion again.
“Bull. You’re a lot less busy than during your residency, and you found time to date then. You’re still upset Andy left you for Tiffany.”
“Thanks for reminding me.” Jillian grabbed a bottled water and slammed the refrigerator door shut. As she strode back to the living room, she pointedly avoided the oversized mirror on the dining room wall. She didn’t need to look to know her ponytail was limp yet frizzy and her supposedly all-day blush and lipstick had faded from her pale skin. She wasn’t the perfect type. Her lips twisted as she loosened the bottle top. Perfect women didn’t get dumped for twenty-year-old file clerks.
“I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad,” Kristen said with a sincerity Jillian knew was genuine. They’d been best friends since college. “I was simply explaining why this date is so terrific.”
Jillian sat down in a beige and brown striped armchair next to the fireplace. “It’s just one date. Mark lives in New York City. After tonight I’ll probably never see him again.” She took a long drink of water.
“Andy lives in Denver.”
“So?”
Kristen’s satisfied smile telegraphed she was about to top Jillian’s date in the big deal department. “He called me a couple days ago. He’s broken up with the Barbie doll.”
“Why? Did he find someone even younger?”
“He’s clearly realized there’s more to a relationship than tits and ass. He’s going to call you after we get back. Would you consider getting back together with him?”
Jillian opened her mouth to say of course, but closed it before the words emerged. Andy had hurt her, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to risk that again. More important, while she’d thought she’d loved him, had even thought they’d end up married, after the initial shock she hadn’t been as devastated as she’d expected. She wasn’t sure how much of the hurt was from a broken heart as opposed to the humiliation of being dumped for Tiffany. “I don’t know.”
“Andy’s been my friend since law school, but he was a jerk to you, and I hate him for that,” Kristen said. “I don’t want you to risk trying again with him unless you’re sure. I’ve been worried that if you haven’t been near another man in six months, you might mistake lust for love when you see Andy. But now that you have a date—” She waved her hand.
“I’m not sleeping with Mark.” Jillian took another drink of water then set the bottle on the fireplace hearth. “To be honest, I’m not sure I should even go out with him tonight. Something about him makes me nervous.”
Kristen’s