“You have got to be
freaking kidding me,” Fleur snapped with exasperation, her breaths coming in
small puffs to surround her head like a halo.
The morning deteriorated as soon as she
opened her eyes. The digital clock showing her in blue glowing numbers she
overslept. With a foul curse, she ran into the bathroom, brushed her teeth and
hair. No time for makeup, she pulled on a pair of jeans and a light blue sweater, thick socks and her brand new cowboy boots, taking a moment to enjoy the
snug comfortable fit. Jamming a wool cap on her head, she pulled out her bright
green-and-pink parka.
There would be no coffee for her this morning.
Bemoaning the fact, she broke into a sprint. Her boots sank into the thick
fresh snow. Picking up speed, she flew past the lodge at a dead run, nearing the
lift area where she was to meet her instructor.
To her horror, she
felt herself go airborne as the slick soles of her boots met with a patch of
ice. Gravity took hold as she went down hard on her back. Her head hit the
ground with a heavy thwump. Her
vision dimmed as stars burst through her vision, and the air left her lungs with
a very unlady like grunt. Struggling
for air as the world spun around her prone body, she realized she should have
heeded the warning, listening to her instinct and stayed the hell in bed with the
covers over her head.
“Are ye all right,
lass?”
She looked up and saw
him. Lily’s brief description of him
didn’t do him justice. He was way beyond hot and into Celtic god territory. Her
coffee-deprived brain made words impossible as she took in his stunning looks.
“That was a verra
nasty fall ye took. Did you break anything?”
She opened her mouth,
but no words would come so she pressed her lips tightly together. Mutely she
shook her head mortified to feel her face flame hot. Damn, she didn’t blush, could
this be more humiliating? Desperately, she wished for the ground to swallow her
whole, but of course nothing like that happened. Instead, the cold seeped into
her bones making her shiver.
Yeah, Lily, embrace the fun of the
season, enjoy the snow. Well, not in this freaking lifetime.
She struggled to get
to her feet and felt the man’s large hands gently grip her arms to steady her.
The man towered over
her petite frame, his broad shoulders stretched over his red ski jacket. Long
muscular legs were encased in heavy jeans. Glossy dark hair was pulled away
from sculpted features of flawless masculinity. Dark brows enhanced his light blue
eyes. A straight romanesque nose gave him an aristocratic air, and good lord…
those full sensual lips were enough to make her want to press them against her
own just to see if they tasted as good as they looked.
“Ach, ye seem fine to
me. You need proper shoe's, lass. Those willna do.”
His thick Scottish brogue rolled over
her in a warm erotic wave. His voice, deep and husky, nearly made her pant.
No one could be so
deliciously perfect. He must have some flaw. Maybe he was a serial killer, or a
criminal on the run from Interpol for a jewel heist gone wrong.
“Are ye fine, lass?”
The sharp spike of
concern in his voice shook her out of her imaginings. “Um, y-yes just a bit
cold. What’s wrong with my boots?” She changed the subject quickly.
“The bottoms are smooth.
Nary a groove tae be found. Ye need tae grip the ground. Verra dangerous, as you
just found out.”
“Well, I guess we
will have to cancel then since I don’t have anything but these and my sneakers
with me.” She felt a pang of regret at the thought of not seeing him again.
Oh, this was bad on
too many levels, besides, she reminded herself how much she hated snow and
cold. She just needed to keep that thought firmly in her mind.
“No worries, ye will
be in ski boots soon. Yer friend Lily told me tae go slowly with you. Said you
are no’ too fond of the cold?”
“Uh-huh.” She blinked
up at him.
Damn, he could recite
the alphabet and she would be a happy woman. Those dark brows slid downward forming
a crease between his eyes. It only made him even sexier, if such a thing could
be possible. The urge to smooth the frown made her clench her hands into fists
at her sides. Great, she was acting like a teenager with her first crush. How
pathetic could she get?
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