After doing two green runs, they’d tried a blue one, which Jillian had not only handled, but enjoyed so much she’d suggested repeating it. “I took wide, slow turns until I got over being scared.”
“That’s never worked before. Why this time?”
“Because Mark skied right above me so I didn’t have to worry about being hit by another skier and could concentrate on skiing.”
Kristen rested a hand on Jillian’s jacket sleeve. “I thought you took a class with Mark.”
“He only took my class because he hadn’t skied since he broke his leg,” Jillian said. “He realized he didn’t need a class, so we skipped out early. It was no big deal.”
“This man not only convinced you to spend the night with him but also got you over your fear of skiing? It’s a very big deal.”
“It isn’t.” Jillian slipped into the lift line, wishing she’d lied and given credit to a super instructor. “For some reason, skiing clicked this time. I did the other because I’m on vacation. I’d appreciate you not announcing it to the world.”
“Baloney,” Kristen said, but at least she’d lowered her voice. “You know how they say being drunk won’t make you do anything you don’t secretly want to do? Same thing with vacations. You’re so damn conservative about men that even deep down you don’t want a vacation fling. Which means you must think there’s a possible relationship there.”
“I’ve only known him for one day.”
“You still could have fallen for him.” Kristen punctuated her statement with her turquoise ski pole. “That you did it so fast means this could be major.”
Jillian skied up beside a teenage snowboarder standing directly ahead of them in lift line. “Can I ride up with you?”
The boy shrugged. “Whatever.”
Jillian got onto the next double chair with him. Much as she loved Kristen, she could be a real pain sometimes.
Because no matter what she thought, last night had been no big deal.
* * * *
Although Jillian repeated that mantra to herself all afternoon, she couldn’t help looking for Mark in case he’d changed his mind and decided to ski that afternoon. When they got back to their townhouse, she called him the instant Kristen left the living room to shower.
“How was skiing?” he asked.
“Terrific, and Kristen thinks you should be canonized.” Jillian sat on the leather sofa. “What did you do?”
“Ran a couple errands, then came back and slept. I needed to recharge my energy for tonight.”
His words made her body simmer. “Why don’t we ski before dinner? I’d like to try night skiing.” That was true, but Jillian’s primary motivation for suggesting it was her brain telling her she needed to slow things down.
“Aren’t you exhausted?” Mark asked. “You got as little sleep as I did.”
“I’m an ER doctor. I’m used to weird sleep schedules. Although I’ll need more tonight,” her brain made her add.
“How about if I promise to let you sleep three hours?”
“Three?” Her brain screamed that she needed to sleep all night, alone.
“Four, then.”
She closed her eyes. “You’ve got a deal.” Brains had no business dictating vacation conduct. “If you agree to go night skiing first.” She could still slow things down a little.
“Okay. Afterwards we can use the hot tub at my place.”
“That’s a good idea. You should be careful of your knee. That scar is nasty.” Mark had a scar on his abdomen and a couple on his legs, including an especially vicious one above his kneecap. Souvenirs from a car accident a few years ago that had resulted in his broken leg, he’d said, and presumably the death of his wife.
“I appreciate your concern, but that wasn’t why I suggested the hot tub,” he said dryly. “Can you meet me in an hour?”
“I thought I could cook something for dinner, and that won’t give me enough time to shop.”
“How about we get takeout tonight?” His voice lowered and roughened. “Because I’m not sure I can stand waiting even an hour to see you again.”
Right. A line, and an old one at that, but it still turned Jillian’s body to melting JELL-O. “An hour will be perfect. I’ll meet you in front of the lodge.”
“If it’s no big deal, why are you blushing like that?” Kristen stood in the doorway, still dressed in ski clothes.
Jillian stood up. “I need to get ready.”
“I’d say if you were any more ready, you’d spontaneously combust.”
Jillian glared at Kristen, then headed for her bedroom, her stride and bearing pure Katharine Hepburn.
Except no one would have dared laugh so hysterically at one of Katharine’s exits.
* * * *
Mark hung up the phone then stood to one side of the picture window, out of bullet range. The sun had nearly set, the mountains jagged, imposing silhouettes against the orange-tinged gray sky. He’d always loved mountains and not only because their myriad of escape routes and hideouts had saved his ass more than once. Their enormity and quiet power made him feel an emotion he couldn’t name and rarely experienced. He’d say they touched his soul, if he were at all certain he had one.
He closed the aluminum blinds, returned to the sofa, and sat down, his gun resting on his thigh. Who could have guessed a woman with frosty hair and icy eyes would have all that fire inside of her? Just hearing her voice had made him hard. Who would blame him if he wasn’t willing to give that up yet?
His blasted conscience would, and contrary to popular belief, he did have one. Right now his conscience was lecturing that even though he was certain he wasn’t endangering Jillian, he should still feel guilty about convincing her to spend last night and tonight with him. He’d even stooped to telling dog stories, for God’s sake.
Not that he’d forced her. But Jillian didn’t have a clue what he really was, would never have skied with him if she had. Even he wasn’t persuasive enough to convince an ER doctor dedicated to saving lives to be with a man who’d ended so many of them.
Although Jillian wasn’t doing anything with him. She was doing it with Mark Jefferson, a New York City accountant, slightly dull but from a nice family, considerate, friendly, eminently respectable. An all-around good guy.
He got up and strode to the kitchen then opened the refrigerator and dug around inside. So he was prepared to ignore his conscience and bring Jillian back here again tonight, despite knowing she’d be appalled at what he was and hurt when he disappeared without explanation. He pulled a bottle of mineral water from behind the chardonnay they’d never finished and slammed the refrigerator door. All so he could have a little more hot sex.
He smiled grimly at his reflection in the stainless steel door. He truly was as big a bastard as people thought.
* * * *
The moon and stars sparkled in the crystal cold, illuminating shadowy peaks, onyx sky, and an occasional fat snowflake. In the lamplight below their chairlift, two silhouettes traversed glowing Styrofoam snow. Jillian half-expected to see an ice palace and snow queen. “Admit it, it’s beautiful.”
“Beautiful.” Mark kissed her, his lips warm despite the chilly air.
“Be careful. You might fall out.”