Page 17 of Hotter on Ice

He raised his own ice glass to hers and winked. “To the sexiest winter collection ever.”

Alya clinked her glass with his and took a sip of the vodka. It made a cool trail down her throat.

“Want to check out the Viking Room?” he asked. “That’s where our first shoot starts tomorrow, no?”

The suggestion itself wasn’t out of the ordinary, and the full-on snow gear didn’t lend itself to sexytimes. Still, she was getting that vibe in spades.

Alya gave him a hint of a smile. “Not tonight.”

“I should have guessed. Someone else has plans for you,” he said, his voice filled with amusement.

She shook her head. “He’s just doing his job,” she said, though she knew Jean Pierre wouldn’t believe a word of it.

“Looks like fun.”

She followed Jean Pierre’s gaze across the room, to Henning. Fun wasn’t the first descriptor that came to mind. He definitely didn’t belong in this world, and his scars weren’t the biggest tell. He was too big, too intense, too guarded, too...everything. He had the presence of a person still in the rough. But what set him apart from this crowd most was that he sat, arms folded, resting against the wall, as if he didn’t care how others saw him. Henning didn’t seem to care that Jean Pierre was staring at him, assessing him right now, and he answered that stare with afuck off, assholeglance of his own. Damn, she admired his attitude.

Alya took one last gulp of her drink and said good-night to Jean Pierre. Then she started across the room. Henning was watching her like there was nothing else around except her, so she held his gaze, coming to a stop right in front of him.

“Is all that reindeer fur keeping your ass warm?” she asked.

He ignored her question. “Who is that?”

Slowly he stood up until he towered over her, his jaw working, each tense movement, each moment of restraint sending hot bolts of lust through her, making her legs weak. His voice was cool and even, but his eyes blazed down on her. She could think of a handful of answers that were almost sure to stoke this fire hotter. This game was working a little too well for both of them. They were already walking a thin line right here, in front of everyone she worked with. If she taunted him with answers about Jean Pierre, one of them was going to step over the line, and judging from Henning’s well-practiced restraint, it would probably be her.

“I’m ready to go back to the room,” she said.

His eyes flared with heat, and he glanced once more in Jean Pierre’s direction. “You’re done with everything here?”

She nodded slowly. Finally he lifted his chin in ascension. “Lead the way.”

She brushed by him and headed toward the front entrance. He was right behind her, radiating a hot desire, and his gaze burned into her back. She wanted to turn around, to get a read on what all this tightly reined tension meant, but she wouldn’t let herself. Not until they were alone.

She walked out the front door and into the darkness of the night. Henning’s boots crunched, so close, but he didn’t touch her. Didn’t say a word. When they came to the warm building, he held the door open for her, and they stepped in. The hallway was empty, and Alya was ready to continue their conversation right there, but she had enough of her wits about her to ditch that plan and look for a little more privacy. She found a door and pulled it open. An upscale locker room, but at this point she didn’t care.

The door closed behind them, and the only sounds were their breaths, fast and ragged. Alya slowed to a stop, and so did Henning, still right behind her. She swallowed. Then slowly, she turned around.Oh, God. His eyes were alive and dark, and her entire body exploded with need.

He tugged off his gloves and hat, dropping them on the floor. Next he grabbed the zipper of his snowsuit with his big hand, and she watched, mesmerized, as he unzipped all the way, until the fly of his thermals showed. He adjusted himself so that his thick erection jutted into the V, straining at the material. His chest rose and fell quickly.

“Fuck,” he muttered. Then he met her gaze.

When she didn’t say anything, he reached for her zipper. He tugged it down, exposing her slowly. His scars twisted as he watched this slow reveal, turning his expression into something darker. Oh, God, this was the sexiest game, and she wanted to play it so very badly. She dropped her gloves on the floor and reached up to his face, touched it, the rough side and the smooth side both under her fingers. He took a ragged breath and stepped toward her, her breasts pressing against his chest. She shuffled back to keep her balance, but he stepped forward again. Step. Step. Slowly, he backed her up against the rough wooden wall. There was nowhere left to go.

Then he slipped his hands into her snowsuit, around her waist and down her ass, cupping it in his enormous hands. He bent down.

“You like to be watched, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“You like knowing that you’re the only person I see in that room?” His voice was rougher. “You like knowing I’m hard as hell, wanting you, even while you talk to another man?”

“God, yes.”

He had been watching her all day, but it was nothing compared to what she saw in those dark brown eyes right now. It was raw and dirty, twenty-four hours’ worth of pent-up lust. Or more.

Then his mouth came down on hers, cutting off all other thoughts as her body burst into flames. They were a tangle of hands and hats and snowsuits, and it was impossible to get close enough. It was a storm, sudden, torrential, drenching everything with its hot, wet downpour. She was so achingly hungry. His teeth caught her lips, his tongue stroked hers with unleashed craving. Alya moaned and kissed him back, showing him what she liked. He was claiming her, not by force or demand but with pledges. The kiss was a string of erotic promises, of all the ways they could be together, of all the ways he wanted to take her.You know you want to be mine.His hands had found their way under her sweater, his fingers slipping up her back, pulling his body against hers. She moaned again, and he answered with a deep groan.

And then, as suddenly as it had started, he pulled back, dragging in a harsh breath.