She seemed more relaxed while discussing business over dinner, although Mitch questioned his wisdom at bringing her for a walk down memory lane at MacRae’s. The café had an outdoor service window that accessed the ice pond. He and Tessa had once skated up for cocoa before heading back to his place….
And he really shouldn’t think about that now. He grilled her about marketing in an effort to distract himself. When he was thoroughly satisfied she knew exactly how to handle his account, he paid the check and ushered her outside.
“It’s no wonder you’re at the top of your field, Tessa,” he remarked as they stepped into the crisp night air. “I can’t believe you put all those plans together in a few hours.”
Another inch of snow had fallen in the time they’d eaten dinner. Mitch knew he shouldn’t court temptation by keeping company with her any longer, but she eyed the frozen pond and the skaters with open longing. He could empathize. Lake Placid in the winter seemed like a Christmas card come to life.
He nodded toward the bench near MacRae’s skate-through window. “Want to watch?”
Shades of the adventurous Tessa flashed in her wide grin. “Sure. Cocoa’s on me.”
As she paid for the steaming beverages, strains from the restaurant’s lone guitar player drifted through the skate-up window to serenade them.
“Don’t be too impressed with my work, by the way,” she remarked as they seated themselves on the rough-hewn plank that served for a bench.
He blew on his cocoa and watched the steam curl into dancing white wisps in the cold air. “You’re being modest.”
She shook her head. “Hardly. I had the office fax me a lot of the contact names and the links for the Web site we’ll make for you.” She shrugged, as if compiling fifty pages worth of resources had been no big deal. “We’ll hit your target audience with an interactive, flashy site. Between that and the other ideas, we’ll get a broad range of exposure.”
He believed her. And felt relieved for the first time in months. He’d been so worried about taking his company to a new level that he hadn’t been able to really relax in ages. But somehow Tessa’s conviction rubbed off on him. With her by his side, he could make his new venture a success. It had been easy to buy the Hearthside, which had been a well-run business to start. The self-sufficient hotel would never give him the same degree of satisfaction as getting his snowboard business off the ground.
“So why did you leave Tahoe?” she asked between delicate sips of hot chocolate.
He stared at the tiny rim of foam on her top lip. Eight years ago he could have leaned over and licked it off. He wondered what she would do if he tried it now. “Too young. Too full of X Games wannabes.”
She licked her lip, sending shockwaves of primal hunger right through him.
“You mean too many youthful Mitch Ryders.”
The guitar player inside launched into “Bad Moon Rising.” Mitch knew half the kids in Tahoe would think Credence Clearwater Revival was an environmental movement. “I was never that young.”
Tessa snorted.
“I take it you disagree?”
“You used to be pretty wild.”
The key words being used to be, Mitch thought with disgust. Since his accident, he hadn’t even hit the top of Whiteface. He still spent some time showing the local kids the tricks and twists that had once put him at the top of his game, but he’d never have the edge that he used to. Fortunately, he had a new game to conquer, a new field to dominate. The business world.
And as long as he had Tessa to help him, he would be on top in no time.
He groaned at the image. On top.
He definitely didn’t need to think about how much Tessa liked being on top.
Tessa watched Mitch stare at the stars and wondered what he was thinking. He didn’t seem to want to talk about the past, but Tessa didn’t want to leave their winter wonderland just yet.
While she was thinking of a way to linger, a boy broke free from the skating pack and careened toward them.
“Look out!” he shouted, his face contorting into a theatrical version of fear.
“Hey, Joey,” Mitch called. “No pratfalls over my guest.”
Seconds before slamming into their bench, the boy regained control, gliding to a stop beside Mitch.
“Pretty good, huh?” The kid tried to play it cool, but he looked at Mitch with undisguised hero worship in his eyes.
Garbed in the garish colors the snowboard crowd favored, the boy looked to be somewhere between eight and ten years old.
Mitch ruffled the boy’s hair. “Did your mother tell you I’m busy this week with business?”
Joey grinned. “That’s okay, I think I’ve got all the moves down.”
“Yeah, right. Stay out of trouble this week and I’ll take you to Whiteface next week when I have some time.”
“Really?” The boy’s cool facade vanished, and his voice was pitched a notch higher.
“Really. Now take yourself off so I can get some work done.” Mitch gave the kid a nudge and sent him cruising backward on his skates.
Tessa watched the exchange with interest, curious about the ties Mitch seemed to have to the community. He’d been more of a wanderer when she’d first met him.
“That’s Daniela’s son,” he explained. A smile played about his mouth. “You remember, the maid who was with me when I came into your room when you were, um…”
He touched her shoulder and skimmed his fingers down the length of her arm, a vivid reminder of the caress he’d given her earlier when only a blanket had separated her naked body from him.
Tessa straightened, prepared to curtail any flirting before it started. “He seems very nice.” She searched for a new conversational route before Mitch could look at her with that teasing light in his eyes again. “So where are you living now? At the hotel?”
He had dropped the subject of Tahoe and his accident so fast she hadn’t figured out where he called home at the moment.
“I got a good deal on a log cabin a mile up the road from the inn.”
“You bought it?”
“You sound surprised.”
She shrugged. “I can’t picture you settling down in one place.”
“I’m grounded for awhile.”
His grimace made it clear he found the idea of staying put as painful as the monstrous fall that stalled his former career two years ago.
“It’s been a long time since I read the article about your accident, Mitch.” She’d practically memorized it, actually. Yet she wanted to hear his version. “What happened?”
“Stupidity.”
She wouldn’t press. She watched a family of skaters clutch one another as they giggled and wobbled their way around the pond. The crisp scratch and skritch of the blades on ice reminded Tessa of the home-wrecking figure skater her husband ran off with. But sitting here under a snow-speckled velvet sky with Mitch, the thought didn’t rankle as much as it had in the past.
“I caught a lot of pop coming off the pipe,” Mitch finally explained.
She made the time-out sign with her hands. “I don’t know if I can interpret snowboard-ese anymore.”
“I had too much height over one of the banks at a Swiss meet.” He gestured with his hands, using his cocoa for the bank and his free hand for the