It’s like I’m stuck in a Jane Austin novel, and my mother is determined to make a match with the season’s most eligible bachelor. Too bad Mom judges eligibility by the size of their bank accounts. If it was up to me, I think I’ve found the most eligible man right here.
When things got to be too much with Mom this morning, Hans waited till she wasn’t looking then told me to follow him.
We weaved between pine trees, going off-piste until we left the ski fields and my mother far behind. She’ll be furious when I get back, and I’ll probably be grounded for the rest of the year, but it’s been worth it.
Hans loves skiing as much as I do, and there’s nothing like the freedom of the wind whipping behind you and the gentle sound of skis slicing through fresh powder.
“It’s beautiful.”
The entire Wild Heart Valley is laid out below us. There was a fresh snow dump last night, and the trees are covered in a layer of pure white. Below us Emerald Heart Lake is frozen solid, and tiny ice skaters can be seen gliding across its surface.
“It is,” Hans agrees. But his voice is close, and when I turn my head, he’s looking straight at me. My heart jumps in my chest. He’s pulled his ski goggles up, and his bright blue eyes are all the more vivid from being hidden behind them. There are lines on his face where the goggles pressed into his skin, and his cheeks are rosy red from the cool air.
I slide my goggles onto the top of my head, and we stare at each other as if seeing one another for the first time.
My heart’s beating so fast I’m sure he must hear it. I’ve been crushing on the tall ski instructor since my first lesson, but I had no idea he felt the same. But the way he’s looking at me like he wants to kiss me has my insides doing flips.
My mouth goes dry and I lick my lips, and his gaze darts to them. There’s hunger in his look, and that makes my pulse quicken. I’m suddenly overheated in my long underwear and ski suit.
Hans shrugs his glove off and reaches for my hair, curling a strand in his fingers.
“I wondered what color your hair was under there,” he murmurs.
“It’s mousy brown.”
I repeat the words Mom uses to describe my disappointing hair. Again I take after my dad and have missed out on the luscious blond curls that are my mother’s pride and joy and the reason she spends so many hours at the hair salon.
Hans runs the strand through his fingers.
“It looks like Swiss chocolate to me.”
His hands slide under my beanie. “May I?”
I swallow hard because his touch is doing all sorts of weird thing to my body. I’m overheated and trembling, and there’s a new sensation between my legs. A tug, a longing that I’ve never felt around anyone before.
I nod, keeping my eyes on his as he slides my beanie and goggles off my head.
He lays them on the boulder and then his hands are in my hair as he pulls it out from where I’ve kept it tucked into my coat. It fans over my shoulders in thick waves, and Hans runs his hand through it.
“It’s beautiful, like caramel swirl chocolate.” With the lilt of his accent, the compliment has my heart pounding.
I want his hands to touch more than my hair. I want to feel him on me. As if reading my mind, his gaze comes back to mine.
“You’re beautiful, Allie. So beautiful.”
My breath hitches, because the only person who’s ever called me beautiful is my dad, and that’s compulsory for a dad, right? I’m stunned that this gorgeous man thinks I’m beautiful.
His hands slide to my cheeks, and I gasp at the heat from his fingers.
“I want to kiss you.”
The words make my tummy flip, and I part my lips as he leans toward me.
As soon as our lips touch, heat skitters through my veins and warmth floods my body. His lips are soft, but the kiss is firm. Tender and hungry all at once.
I’ve been kissed before but it’s never felt like this, like my body’s floating in a warm bubble.
When we break away, we’re both breathing hard.
