Название | Sleigh Bells in the Snow |
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Автор произведения | Sarah Morgan |
Жанр | Эротическая литература |
Серия | Mills & Boon M&B |
Издательство | Эротическая литература |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781472016447 |
“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 guy or girl pulls your skates on I guess.” Stacy shrugged. “After that we’re going to Santaland at Macy’s. It’s the whole Christmas experience.”
Kill me now.
Kayla’s jaw ached from smiling. She wondered whether she dared ring Jackson O’Neil and ask if she could have the cabin early. The way she felt, she was willing to camp in the forest. “Sorry to seem antisocial, but I just can’t afford the time.” She leaned back in her chair, stomach aching, head throbbing from too much time thinking about Christmas.
“Skating would be good practice for Vermont.”
“I don’t need practice. I’m going to be planning their campaign from the comfort of my log cabin.”
“Won’t your family be upset you’re not coming home this year?”
“They’re understanding.” Now it wasn’t just her stomach and her head, it was her heart and her throat. Damn. She’d thought she was tougher than this. “Thanks to Jackson O’Neil, I now have enough work to keep me going through the next five holiday seasons, so if you wouldn’t mind—”
“Brett should have gone.”
“Brett has a wife and four kids, although when he had time to make four kids I have no idea given that he’s always in the office. Anyway, O’Neil asked for me—he’s going to get me.”
Stacy’s eyebrows lifted and Kayla rolled her eyes.
“Not in that way. He’s going to get the working, professional me.” She tried not to think about those blue eyes or the width of his shoulders.
“Is there any other version? Kayla, you should not be spending the holidays alone.”
“I won’t be alone. There will be moose, raccoons and—and—” she racked her brains “—other lovely, cute Christmassy furry things.”
“Have you actually ever seen a moose?”
“Not in the flesh, no.” Thank goodness. “But I’m sure they’re adorable. Why do you ask?”
“Because a moose is not a cute furry thing. I’m checking, so you know what you’re getting into.” Leaning across the desk, Stacy tapped Kayla’s keyboard and a moment later a large image of a moose appeared, its elongated bony face filling her screen.
“Dear God—” Kayla recoiled. “That is the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen.”
“I rest my case.” Stacy straightened. “Still keen to spend Christmas there?”
“I won’t be spending it with a moose, that’s for sure. It will be fun. I’ve always thought log fires were romantic.”
“Not by yourself.”
“I won’t be by myself. I’ll take a pile of DVDs. My gift to myself is a boxed set called The Ultimate Horror.”
“Kayla, that’s terrible. Who spends Christmas Day watching horror movies?”
“I do.” She picked up a stack of papers destined to be her bedtime reading.
“What about food?”
“According to Brett I feast on work, but I’ll probably take popcorn.”
“Christmas Day is about sharing good food with people you love, not microwaving popcorn.”
“I love watching horror movies. It will be a treat. Now, kindly remove that moose from my desktop. I have work to do, and I can’t do it with that thing watching me.”
HE SAW HER before She saw him, striding purposefully through the airport, her shiny blond hair drawn into a ponytail that swung across her neck and drew glances from the men around her. She wore a long cashmere coat in a pale shade of caramel that brushed the tops of soft leather boots the color of dark chocolate. Over her shoulder was her laptop bag, and behind her she dragged a medium-sized suitcase.
Walking through the crush of tourists in their colorful ski jackets, she stood out like a gazelle in a shopping mall.
Eyeing the cashmere coat, Jackson hoped she’d packed something suitable in that suitcase.
Kayla Green might be an expert in integrated marketing, but she clearly knew sweet nothing about dressing for Vermont in December.
“Kayla!”
Seeing him, she lifted her hand in acknowledgment.
And then she smiled and the smile was sweet and genuine, as if she was really excited to be here.
It kicked at his ribs and lower. Heat shot through him. Every thought in his brain went up in smoke. Gripped by raw lust, he strode to meet her, reminding himself he had enough complications in his life without adding another one. “You were lucky. The flight after yours is grounded in Newark.” Surprised his voice sounded even vaguely normal, he reached for her case but she gripped it tightly.
“I can manage, thanks.”
“Right.” Jackson decided the case would give her something to hang on to once those soft leather boots hit the snow outside and sent her spinning to the ground. “Then let’s get going.”
“I appreciate you meeting me.” She was brisk and businesslike and he wondered how long she’d keep that up once she met his family. They had a way of sucking the professional from a person.
“You’re welcome. As a matter of interest, did you pack any winter gear in those bags?”
She glanced down at herself. “Exhibit A. Warm coat. Boots. Scarf. What am I missing?”
He thought about pointing out she might be missing fingers and toes if she didn’t find herself a few more layers, but decided she had brain enough to work it out for herself soon enough. She was dressed for Manhattan not Mount Mansfield.
“You look great.” Truthfully she looked better than great. “You might need to add some thicker layers. The snow is pretty deep at the moment. We had a big storm a few days ago and another is forecast.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. What a nuisance.”
Her comment confirmed everything he already suspected about her relationship with snow. “We’re a winter sports resort, Kayla. Snow is good. In fact it’s essential.”
“Of course it is.” Her gaze didn’t shift from his. “I knew that. I just meant, what a nuisance I didn’t bring my other boots.”
“You own a pair that doesn’t have a four-inch heel?” He tried not to look at her legs and then decided what the hell. He hadn’t seen anything that good in Vermont in a long time, and he was going to make the most of it.
“Actually, no. But it will be fine. I’m developing a public relations strategy for you, not skiing downhill.”
He refrained from pointing out she was going to be skiing downhill the moment those heels