Page 11 of Hotter on Ice

“I understand.” Her smile faded. “Because I’m interfering with your job?”

Henning frowned. To be with someone physically scarred like him would make her—and him—the center of attention. Henning had watched her life in the media enough to see exactly how it would play out: grainy photos of them on the front of all the tabloids. And then what? With Alya’s more recent dates, the comments were pettier. But Henning was a big fucker with scars and little patience for people in general. After studying Nick Bancroft for three years, Henning knew how that bastard worked. He was almost sure the guy was a clinical narcissist. Nick still hadn’t forgotten that Alya left him, and he might use this chance to make a fresh dig about her unstable mental health or make up some story about how she called him again, begging to take her back, and use it as a reason to show up. Just the idea of it made his blood boil, but how the hell did he talk about this with her?

Henning blew out a breath and tried his best. “Look, you hired me so there was no drama on this trip. And I don’t want any...speculations on my watch.”

“I spent three years shaping my life around avoiding Nick. I turned down jobs because they required traveling to Los Angeles. I’ve hired a bodyguard to go to events, even when you were checking to make sure Nick was still across the Pacific. I’m done with that,” she said. “It’s true that I don’t want to attract too much attention to my personal life, but I’m not going to let that mean I can’t have one. It just means we need to be careful.”

He shook his head. What she was saying made sense. She wasn’t making decisions based on fear, and she was willing to take some risks. But what was the point of this risk? So he could hold her hand in the Icebar? Nope, not worth it.

Alya opened her mouth, as if she was going to argue with him, but she hesitated. Then understanding registered in her eyes. “You meant speculations about you,” she said softly.

He frowned. “I’m not concerned about that.”

“I am.” She blinked up at him, her sky-blue eyes clear and unwavering.

Then she bit her lip, and his eyes dropped to her mouth.Focus.

“But if you’re not by my side, there will be other results, ones you might not like,” she said.

Like a hard-on from watching her all day long? He had already reconciled himself with that reality. He gave her a little smirk. “I can handle it.”

She raised an eyebrow. “We can talk about it after you see what I mean.” She was looking at him, like she was assessing him. He leveled his gaze on her, letting her look her fill. Better if she saw him clearly from the beginning.

At last, she nodded. “Fine. But you’re okay with a little fun when it’s just the two of us?”

“Anything you want.” He touched her cheek. Her skin was so unbearably soft under his fingers.

She covered his hand with hers. “What doyouwant?”

He looked down at her, so close to him on this bed. She was waiting for his answer.

Finally he sighed and told her the truth. “I want you, any way I can have you.”

Her breath came out somewhere between a sigh and a moan, and the memory of the kiss in the car came crashing down on him. The memory of the sweet tenderness of her lips that so quickly burst into flames. Alya straddling him, her hands holding him so tight it felt like she’d never let go. And he wanted that again, fuck, how he wanted that. Badly. Just one moment of selfishness, one kiss becausehewanted it. Henning put his knee on the bed next to her and leaned down, searching her expression. And, oh, that smile as he came close, more than an invitation, with a dizzying lightness that took his breath away.

He closed the last distance between them, his mouth on hers again, and she sighed—she sighed. This was too good to be real, but the ache inside was too strong for it to be otherwise. Henning licked the seam of her mouth, and she opened for him. She was here, solid under his hands, all soft lips and hungry explorations. The aching need, the gaping hole inside him opened right back up, and he couldn’t contain it. He gave her soft strokes of his tongue, and she matched them with her own. Then she reached up, threading her fingers in his hair, and pulled him down on top of her. They landed on the bed, him over her, laughing, kissing.God, yes.He could kiss her all day. Wait. No. She needed to be somewhere right now.

“Your schedule,” he murmured, his lips so close to hers. She nodded, her nose brushing against his. So intimate.

Mine. The thought was there before he could shove it back down, and he struggled to bury it, along with the surge of protectiveness that followed. Alya wasn’t his. She couldn’t be.

Time to turn it off. Time to be the person she needed. He closed his eyes and blew out a breath.Remember the fucking limits, Henning. If just kissing her was enough to loosen something inside, he needed to be really careful. Especially in a little hotel room. Where they’d be alone. Together. All. Night. Long.

His dick gave an unhelpful throb, so he pulled back, untangling himself from her arms.

“You’re due at the kick-off party in the Icebar,” he whispered, straightening up, adjusting himself. “I’ll put on my winter gear.”

That turned out to be a project. Getting dressed to sit around in freezing conditions took a lot of energy, as did walking around in the gear. The snowsuits the hotel loaned all the guests were warm as hell, which really wasn’t working inside, but his discomfort was far outweighed by the knowledge that Alya wouldn’t be cold when they sat in the Icebar. Still, by the time they made it out of the hotel room, Henning was burning up—and for once, Alya wasn’t the reason.

“I can’t wait to see this place,” she said as they walked through the quiet hallway, seemingly unfazed by the heat. “Ready to be amazed?”

He shrugged and gave her a hint of a smile. “All I’m thinking right now is that this hascold as fuckwritten all over it.”

Alya laughed. “Probably. But I think it’ll be more than that.”

The farther they walked from their room, the quieter the hallway seemed to get. Every step took them closer to the fashion world, where she was at home and he so clearly didn’t belong. Henning frowned as he held open the door for Alya, and they both walked out into the snow.

The cold wind slapped his face, triggering memories that caught him off guard. Everything inside him seized up, and for one, terrible moment, he was back in that warehouse. Lying on the ice-cold concrete floor, with pain everywhere. The shards of glass from the explosion embedded in his skin. Knowing that fucker had triggered the explosion on purpose, just big enough for him to get away.