Not caring if she was being rude, she butted in front of them. She was tired of looking like an idiot and every flaw pointed out. First by Lilly. And now him.
The creaking chairlift slowed, rounded the corner then picked up speed. The seat slammed into the back of her knees, pushing Cassandra forward. A strong hand grabbed her arm and plopped her onto the seat.
“It came too fast.” She freed her arm and stared ahead. Blood rushed to her cheeks. She must resemble a cherry on top of a vanilla sundae.
“Do you want the safety bar down?”
“Yes.” She needed something to steady herself. Otherwise she’d melt on the chairlift and drip onto the unsuspecting skiers below.
Below, beginning skiers snowplowed while experienced ones jumped off bumps, flew into the air with their legs tucked under them and poles close to their sides, and landed without skipping a beat. The last time she’d tried, she landed flat on her butt. Luke and she had burst out laughing.
Happier times.
On the chair lift, Cassandra was stuck sitting next to Eric. On the other side of Eric were two young girls who kept giggling and whispering to each other. They were practically drooling over Eric as if he had been voted Sexist Man Alive by
People
magazine. One of them asked, “So, are you from Denver?”
Eric shifted in his seat. Cassandra couldn’t help inhaling his masculine scent. She pretended to be fascinated by the skiers and snowboarders. He brushed his arm against hers, creating a shimmering heat between her thighs, and hot sweat broke out over her. Her clammy palms broiled inside her gloves.
“Yes, I’m from Denver,” he answered. The huskiness in his voice flooded her with sudden heat. What was it with this man and his velvety voice? She fought the urge to run her hands over his ski parka. She’d always been aloof, remote, detached from men, but with Eric, she wanted to touch and kiss him.
“We are too,” the girl replied. “Do you go to school?”
He cocked his eyebrow. “School?”
“Dude, I mean, like, do you go to college?”
He laughed, sending shivers down her back. Her perspiration shot up a notion. Long underwear stuck to her body and she squirmed on the chair. By the time they reached the top of the mountain, she'd be a dripping snowwoman.
“No, haven’t been in school for a long time,” he said.
“Oh. What do you do then?” she asked.
“I work in the government.”
The red headed girl’s green eyes widened. “You’re a secret agent?”
Secret agent? Please. The girl had the brains of a turkey with its mouth wide open, drowning itself in the rain.
“Marcy, just cuz he works for the government doesn’t mean he’s James Bond. God,” the other girl scolded.
“What makes you think I’m not?” His eyes twinkled and his lips curled into a half smile.
Both girls gasped.
Light snow dusted the pine trees. In between the trees and near the roped off areas, deer, squirrel, weasel and rabbit tracks marred the snow. She stole a glance at him and he caught her. God, she hoped he couldn’t read her mind and know one look from him turned into her raging snow bunny. The curve of his mouth tempted her. She flushed, wanting to jump off the lift and follow the tracks, anything to get away from the hunk of a man who fueled unfamiliar feelings she had never experienced.
The wind blew the trees, but failed to make the chairlift move faster. With each creak, the chair inched closer to the top and her chance to escape diminished. She needed time to regroup and get her thoughts out of the gutter before she did something really stupid.
The lift slowed and Cassandra shot out of the chair, needing to douse the flaming desire within her. She headed for the run Rhapsody and swooshed over moguls and onto Main Vein. Skiing down Main Vein’s white highway, she passed skiers and snowboarders. Snow flew into her face, blurring her vision. The windy run beckoned her to move faster, testing her limits. Her body cooled.
At Center Village, she skidded to a stop, snow spitting from her skis. A skier wearing black came up beside her. Oh, no. Cinnamon.
Eric tilted his head at the mountain. ”You’re fast.”
“I love to go fast. Why are you following me?” She half-hoped he was, half-hoped he wasn’t.
He shrugged. “I guess I am.”
“You are?”
He nodded. “The Eagle lift is faster than the Flyer.”
Damn it! He was just skiing to the next lift and she thought he was after her. She wished for an earthquake so she could jump inside a crevice. The man could have any woman here. She was just one flavor of ice cream.
Eric had a straight face, but for a brief moment, merriment flashed in them. Was he teasing her? She gave him a small smile and skied away. “Oh, well, have a good day.”
Luke wasn’t in the lift line. Good. She didn’t want him to see her falling over Eric. She’d caused him enough pain.
She skied into the single line, but the same enticing masculine fragrance came behind her, fanning the flames within her again. She tensed. Of course, he’d go in this line. The man was single. Why, she had no idea.
Eric skied up next to her and scanned around. “Where’s your friend?”
He’d noticed Luke? “What friend?”
“The one you were sitting with at breakfast?”
His hypnotic eyes unnerved her as if he could see into her very soul. She had a sudden urge to tell him everything, her fears, her darkest secrets.
“Is she here?”
Fuck, don’t say it, don’t say her name. “What? Who?”
“Lilly.”
“Lilly? She had to leave on her business. How did you know her name?” Disappointment formed in her stomach.
“I heard you mention her name at breakfast.”
Why couldn’t she blink her eyes like I-Dream-Of-Jeannie and disappear. What else had he overheard?
“What does she do?”
“She’s a lawyer.” She chewed on her lip and waited for him to say something about how smart and beautiful Lilly was for the millionth time like all other men did.
He leaned closer and whispered, “So, are you going to tell me your name? Or is it classified?”
His sexy voice sent nips down her back and stoked the flames of desire again. She needed to get away from him before she did something asinine. Ignoring him, she butted in line not caring if she got dirty looks. Answering him would be too personal, too intimate, too scary.
On the chairlift, she relaxed. She didn’t want to compete with Lilly over him and definitely couldn’t bear seeing him with Lilly. True, he was not hers, but she still reeled from Luke’s infidelity and her heart, too raw and vulnerable, bled at the thought of another rejection.
Skiing would distract her. The minute her skis hit the snow, Cassandra skied as if the devil himself chased her. She veered off at Skid Road run and plowed down to the Super Bee lift. She skidded to a stop and snow plowed her way to the singles line. A spicy scent whiffed over her. She turned and froze. It wasn’t possible. “How did you get here?”
Eric shrugged. “Skied down the mountain like everybody else.”
“No, I was ahead of you.”
“You’re fast, but not that fast.” He tilted his head. “It’s time for you to move.”
Cassandra skied ahead. Eric followed her and she bit back a smile. Maybe he was interested. Sitting on the chairlift next to him, she clenched her poles, afraid she’d give into the naughty urge to cup his face and kiss him.
Eric put on his sunglasses, hiding his magnetic eyes. Good.
Concentrate. Keep your hands to yourself. He wants Lilly, not you.
She banged her skis together pretending to knock off snow, even though they were clean.
“Where are you from?” he asked.
“Boulder.”
“I’m from Denver.”
“I know.”
He elbowed her side. “So, you were listening?”
She scooted away, trying not to give into temptation. “No, I wasn’t.”
“How did you know I was from Denver?”
“Wh-wh-what?” She faced him. “You-you-you thought…I wasn’t. Wh-wh-whatever.” Sputtering again. Damn! Heat filled her cheeks, stomach tightened. She hoped Eric didn’t get the same annoyed look Luke got when she reverted to stuttering, but Eric gave her a gentle smile. Slowing her speech, she said, “It’s kind of hard not to overhear when I’m sitting right next to you.”
“Don’t have to be testy about it.”
Why had she turned into a shrieking mountain lion? Admit it. You wanted him for yourself.
Cassandra’s nerves threatened to snap one by one. He bumped her with his arm. She jumped. “What?” This time, she said it in a normal voice.
“Let me guess.” He grinned. “Your name is Susan.”
She grimaced. “No.”
“Becky.”
She rolled her eyes. “Not even close.”
“How about Cassandra?” he whispered.
His warm breath washed over her like a summer breeze, inviting her to kiss him. The man was alluring, tempting.
She found her voice. “You heard Lilly call my name.”
“Maybe. Maybe not.”
Concentrate.
He put his hand on her thigh and an undeniable need filled her to do more than kiss him, to feel his mouth on her skin. He leaned closer, parting his lips. She wanted this. Something slipped out of her hand. “My pole!” She slumped. “Oh, no. It’s on a black run!”
Eric laughed. “You don’t ski blacks?”
“No, but I’ll get it.” Moguls, deep moguls. Could her day get any worse?
“I can get it for you.”
He would? Luke would have insisted she get her own pole, reiterating she needed to learn how to ski blacks.
“Can you ski with one pole?”
“Yes, I can. Contrary to what you think, I’m not a total idiot.”
“I never said you were.” He patted her thigh. “Meet me at the Excelerator.”
She stammered, “Ah, yes. I will.” She clasped his hand. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
The lifted slowed. Cassandra released his hand and before she could say anything, he skied off. Over his shoulder, he said, “I’ll see you soon.”
Holding her remaining pole in her left hand, Cassandra skied to Copperopolis, a blue run. As she slowed her pace, she edged back on her skis and sucked in her core to keep her balance. How could she be so stupid? He would have kissed her on the lift and she would have discovered if he tasted cinammony.
Her cellular phone rang with its usual beach ring. She stopped.
Great, Lilly.
“Hey,” she answered.
“Hey,” Lilly said. “Wondering how your day’s going. Depressed I’m not up there.”
“Um, it’s okay.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Luke’s here.”
“With Diane?”
“No, I didn’t see her. Just him. Still blames me for him sleeping with her.”
“Yeah, he would. I hate to say this, but he liked you.”
“I know. I wish it could have been different.”
“Yeah, well, you’re never going to be happy as long as you keep hoping for a man who doesn’t exist.”
She wanted to argue, but held her tongue.
“Um, so, how’s the skiing?”
“Great. Except I dropped my pole.”
“God, you always do. On a black run?”
“Of course.”
“Going to ski on your butt again?”
“Uh, no”. She hesitated. “Eric’s getting it.”
“Who’s Eric?”
A skier sped by, sprinkling snow onto her boots. “Remember the guy at breakfast?”
“The one who you said looked like dream guy?”
“Um, yes.”
“Cassandra, he’s not the guy in your dreams. He’s a man.”