Mills and Boon Christmas Joy Collection. Liz Fielding

it. Now I’m going to have to put up with more kisses,” he complained.

      “Not just kisses, Carter. I’m afraid you stepped over the line. I did warn you,” she said, rolling over and shoving the handful of snow into the crook between his neck and shoulder.

      He yelped and scooted back from her. He grabbed a handful of snow and lobbed it at her. She laughed as she unbuckled her skis and gathered more ammo to hurl at him. She kept throwing snowballs and ducking his until he rushed her. Scooping her up into his arms, he kissed her, and this time it felt real. Not a dare, not a thank-you, but that red-hot lust that always lurked beneath the surface whenever he was around.

      “Enough, gorgeous,” he said, letting her slide down his body and lacing his fingers through hers. “I’m proud of you. I knew you could do it, and you proved yourself.”

      She swallowed hard. “I didn’t know I could. Thank you, Carter. You always know just what to do to nudge me out of my comfort zone.”

      “I intend to do a lot more nudging tonight when we are out with my friends,” he warned her softly. “I think you’ve been the Ice Queen for too long and you’re overdue for a thaw.”

      She arched a brow. “I think you know that I’m not always icy.”

      “I do, and I like it.”

      They walked back to the rental building and Carter said goodbye to her. She watched him walk away, and this time he glanced back over his shoulder and winked at her before he disappeared around the corner.

       12

      THERE WAS ONE more week of the Sundance Film Festival in Park City, so the bars were crowded with some celebrities and a lot of film industry insiders. There were a few people she had met at the big winter games last year but Lindsey mostly avoided them. Instead she sat nestled on a high bar stool at a table jammed with people. Carter sat next to her with his arm casually draped over her shoulder.

      She tried to be cool and casual, but this wasn’t her kind of place and she felt uncomfortable. Plus, Carter was different here. It was as if he was aware of an image he had to project, or maybe a person he had to be, and he wasn’t acting like himself.

      If she’d been aware of that, she would have turned him down when he’d invited her to come along with him today.

      Oh, who was she kidding? She would have been here anyway, because this afternoon after she’d skied she would have said yes to anything. There had been such a rush of adrenaline flooding through her, making her feel lighter than air.

      That she could do anything.

      “Another drink?” the cocktail waitress asked.

      “Manhattan, please,” Lindsey said.

      “Vodka and Thunderbolt,” Carter said. “A round for the table.”

      The waitress nodded and moved away. She turned to look at Carter, who wore an Oxford shirt with some sort of graffiti-style art on the left side of a snowboarder doing a “crippler”—an inverted 540 spin. He hadn’t shaved, but that little bit of stubble on his jaw made him look roguish, and his hair was styled in that messy, casual way he always wore it.

      “We have to show the sponsors some love,” he said.

      “I’m not drinking an energy drink and vodka. That kind of thing makes me feel weird. I mean inside.”

      He leaned in close to her. In his eyes she saw a hint of the guy who’d sat in her kitchen and played cards with her, but it was just a glimpse. “Don’t tell, but me, too. I just order them and then leave mine on the table.”

      “Why?” she asked.

      He tugged her to him as he leaned back from the table. It was as if they were cocooned together with the cacophony of noise around them.

      “I have to order them. It’s my image.”

      “But kids might buy into it. And they think you love those drinks, so they try it...”

      “Damn. You’re right.” He winced. “But I can’t change who I am now.”

      “Why not?”

      “Because Stan and his company pay me a lot of money to do what I do. And I like it.”

      “So money makes it okay?” She was pushing because she was uncomfortable, she knew that. Maybe she should just let it go. Smile and be like the scantily clad energy drink girls, but she couldn’t.

      “Do you get off on being a buzz kill?” he asked.

      “No. Sorry if my pointing out the truth is messing with your fun.” She huffed.

      “It’s not,” he said. “I’m just having a hard time being my usual self tonight.”

      She rubbed her finger over his stubble, liking the way it abraded her skin. She sat there thinking about her life and this year. Three weeks into January and already it felt as though things were changing.

      “Maybe that’s not a bad thing,” she murmured. “I wasn’t trying to slam your choices, Carter. Lord knows I’ve made a few of them that haven’t been the best. I guess I’m feeling out of place so I’m not being my nicest.”

      He had the prettiest eyes, she thought. Especially when he leaned even closer and she noticed those little blue flecks in his irises.

      “I like it when you’re not all nicey-nice,” he admitted. “And when have you ever made a bad choice? My entire amateur career I’ve heard how perfect Lindsey Collins is.”

      She doubted that. Her coach had pointed out every little flaw she had on every run she’d ever taken. Her mother thought her hair was too long. Her sponsor—a manufacturer of a beeswax-based lip balm—thought she needed to look Nordic and had asked her to wear blue contacts for her last photo shoot.

      “Well, I’m far from perfect,” she informed him. “And I have many regrets.”

      “Like what? Name one.”

      She sighed. “The things I regret most are maybe not living as much as I should have. I mean, I’m almost thirty, and my twenties were spent training every day.”

      “I can’t believe you regret that. Maybe because of the way your career ended you think you should have done something different...” Carter said.

      Their conversation was just starting to get interesting, but their drinks arrived and he got pulled into a conversation with a Thunderbolt energy drink representative.

      “Carter Shaw is hot, isn’t he?” a tall, svelte redhead said as she sat next to her at the table.

      “Yeah, he is. He knows it, too,” Lindsey replied, turning toward the other woman. “You’re Georgina Poirier, right? Stan’s wife? I’m Lindsey, by the way. I saw you with Stan earlier but you and I haven’t had a chance to meet.”

      They shook hands. “Nice to finally meet you,” Georgina said. “And you’re right—Carter does know how good-looking he is. I think that’s part of his appeal.”

      Lindsey had to agree. Confidence was very attractive.

      The rest of their group filed in, and Georgina left to chat with one of the Hollywood starlets who’d had the lead in the film screened at the film festival earlier today.

      Lindsey slowly sipped her cocktail, feeling oddly out of sorts. Truth was, she wasn’t enjoying this party as much as she had the one on New Year’s Eve. It suddenly dawned on her that the reason was that she didn’t have Carter’s undivided attention. Then the band started playing, and the song was that catchy Pharrell Williams’ tune “Happy.”

      She grabbed Carter’s hand before she could think twice about it. “Dance with me.”

      He