“Sounds like fun, but I don’t have a bathing suit,” she said.
“I brought one for you. I don’t suppose you feel like changing in the front seat?” he asked casually. “I won’t look.”
“Somehow I’m not buying that. I’m sure they have a facility in the hotel.’
“It won’t be as much fun,” he said. “What if you put the blindfold back on? Would you do it, then?”
She laughed, and he bit his lip to keep from smiling. He liked seeing her forget about all the troubles of the past year. She seemed a lot like the woman he used to know before her crash.
“No. I’m not going to get naked in the front of your SUV, Shaw, so stop asking.”
“Fine, be that way,” he grumbled. “Just so you know, I was willing to do it, too.”
“I bet. You are willing to get naked anywhere.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “I saw some of those photos on the internet.”
“What photos? Did you Google me?”
She clapped a hand over her mouth and shook her head.
“You did. Why did you do that?”
She shrugged. “Those two weeks I didn’t see you I sort of missed you.”
“Missed me? Well, I never thought I’d see the day,” he said. “Tell me more.”
She scooted back toward the door. “I thought we were over. I’m used to seeing more of you, and I just typed your name in once.”
“Once? Surely more than that,” he said, taunting her.
“Stop it, your ego can’t take much more inflation. It was interesting reading the articles about you. I’ve never read that much of my own press. Have you read yours?” she asked.
He shook his head. He didn’t mind press interviews and the like because it was the only way to get his sport more into the public consciousness, which they needed if it was going to continue to grow. But he never read it. When he’d first started, he’d read a few articles where they’d twisted his words totally out of context. He couldn’t get them to change what they’d printed and had made a conscious decision to stop reading the stuff after that.
“I haven’t. But I have read the articles about ‘Skiing’s Favorite Ice Queen,’” he said.
She flushed and shifted on her seat to put more distance between them. “I’m not anyone’s favorite this year.”
He put his hand on her shoulder and used his other hand to tip her face up toward his. “You’re my favorite, gorgeous.”
“You’re just saying that because you think it might soften me up and maybe I’ll get naked in your SUV,” she said.
He laughed as though he could tell she wanted him to. But he knew he’d been serious. She was his favorite. He who’d never allowed himself to hold on to anything—or anyone—wanted her. Desperately. He’d always had the feeling that his life was like quicksilver, always changing, and he’d gone with the flow. But right now he wanted to pull her into his arms and never let her go.
He needed her with him, but that made him weak, and he wasn’t going to be weak. There had to be a way to keep her close without losing himself. He shoved his feelings down as he always did and smiled.
Then he kissed her. A soft, slow, sweet kiss that he hoped showed her the emotions he’d never admit he had. But he wanted to. Not for the first time, he wished he was a different kind of man. Someone who would easily be able to share what was in his heart.
But he wasn’t. He never had been. That just wasn’t his style. And he had the feeling it might never be.
“We should go in and get changed so we’re not late,” he said after finally releasing her. “The person I spoke to said the guide left for the crater promptly.” He opened his door, grabbed the bags from the back he’d put in earlier and handed one to Lindsey as she came around to his side. They walked into the hotel and he watched her enter the change room.
A few minutes later as they snowshoed out to the crater, he wondered if they looked like a couple to the other people on the tour.
She didn’t say much and neither did he. Part of him wanted to believe they were both just enjoying the majesty of the Utah winter, but another part knew that too much had been said.
He wasn’t good at sharing, because every time he did, it ended up this way; further away from Lindsey than he had been before.
WHEN THEY GOT to the crater, Lindsey caught her breath. It was spectacular. The water was actually about seventy-five feet from the opening in the crater, and getting down to the water had been tricky. But now that they were here and the instructor was explaining the diving safety information, she couldn’t contain her excitement.
She looked over at Carter and he smiled back at her. They were both treading water, and it was warm. Almost hot. It felt surreal being here with him.
They spent the next hour diving in the crater, and she saw some of the most spectacular sights of her life. Carter stayed next to her. A few times he reached out to tap her arm to point out the sunken wagon wheel and fake mermaid she might have missed.
While there weren’t any fish due to the high calcium content, the dome over the cavern filled it with light. The crater was in the shape of an hourglass, and Lindsey followed the rugged arc of the walls. As she dived beneath the surface, she saw the chunky white surface of the wall that jutted out.
Finally they surfaced to sit on the edge of the pool while the rest of their group finished diving. She looked over at Carter. His hair was rakishly slicked back, eyelashes thick and dark from the water, his body long and lean; she felt a spear of desire go straight through her.
If they were alone, she’d be tempted to climb onto his lap and start kissing him and not stop until he was buried deep inside her and she was riding him to completion. She blushed at the thought and felt the heat move up her neck and face.
“What are you thinking?”
“Nothing,” she said. “This was a great idea.”
“Thanks, but I’m pretty sure you have something on your mind besides diving,” he drawled.
“I might, but it will have to wait. Unlike you, I’m not into exhibitionism.”
“Who said I was?”
“GQ winter issue two years ago. It was on your turn-ons,” she said.
He cocked a brow. “You read that?”
“I did. How else would I know that fact?”
“I just said that because the reporter was irritating me,” he admitted. “I’d had a big fight with my board sponsor and it was pretty public and he kept trying to get me to bad-mouth them, which I wasn’t going to do, so I said that instead.”
She put her hands back on the tile behind her. Their worlds were weird. In one way they spent all their time training and trying to be the best in their sport, and then had to deal with sponsors and media. It was hard to balance it all, and she envied how Carter had always seemed to manage it.
“That was a clever way of keeping him from asking about it. Plus, it probably got a bunch of new women to watch your sport,” she said.
“Well, it didn’t hurt,” he responded. “Our sport has been like the bastard of winter sports for so long I’ll do whatever I have to do to get more people interested in it.”
“You’re very outspoken. I remember when you first showed up at the