“Stop,” she called out. “Turn your skis to break the velocity.”
The duke’s skis did nothing of the sort.
He flailed his arms wilder.
Cynthia scooted several quick steps to one side.
As he skated past, she grabbed hold of his arm. The sudden check spun his momentum toward her. Their skis tangled, followed by their legs, and their arms, and a collision of chests.
In the space of a heartbeat, she was flat on her back with the Duke of Nottingvale splayed on top of her, both of them winded and panting.
He kissed her hard.
“That... was...brilliant.” His eyes sparkled. “Let’s do it again!”
She let go of her poles and wrapped her arms about him. “I thought you wanted a kiss.”
He covered her face with kisses. “Can you teach me to jump crevasses?”
She closed her eyes and groaned. “I’ve spawned a monster.”
“It’s definitely your fault.” He kissed her again. “Everything good is.”
He’d let go of his poles, too. One hand was cradling her head, whilst the other propped him at an angle in an attempt not to crush her.
It was the least comfortable position she had ever been in, and an experience she would cherish for the rest of her life. She kissed him as though there might never be another chance.
At last, she pushed him aside.
“Too many kisses?” he asked. “Do I have to skate down again to earn another?”
No. He could have all of the kisses he desired.
“Let me unfasten these before we break a ski or an ankle.” She fumbled with the leather straps, then piled the skis and the poles to one side. “Nowwe can roll around in the snow like mature, responsible adults.”
He grinned and flipped onto his back, bringing her with him so that she was splayed on top of him.
“My heart won’t stop racing.” His smile was the widest she’d ever seen. “It’s either from proximity to you or my near-death experience.”
“Definitely the skis,” she assured him.
“I’m not so sure.” His eyes were unreadable.
He held her gaze for a long moment, then cupped her head and drew her mouth down to his.
Now it was her heart that wouldn’t stop racing. Either from proximity to him... or the realization that she never wanted to let him out of her sight.
Even if they never had another moment like this again.
What if they stayed friends after this? What if she saw him not once a year at Christmastide, but on planned holidays all year long? Would she be able to withstand the sight of him building a life with his new bride?
Would she be able to stand not seeing him at all?
“Come on, then.” She rolled from his chest and to her feet, then bent to offer him her hand. “Shall we see what you might earn after yoursecondslide down the mountain?”
They picked up their equipment and trudged over to the tree line to begin the hike back up to the top.
“I cannot believe these are Lady Gertrude’s skis,” he murmured.
