Page 38 of Hotter on Ice

“I was on the path to being a nurse. But...” She hesitated. “There was a lot going on, and it wasn’t going to work for both my sister and me to go to college at the same time.”

Her mother’s career had taken a dive by then. They weren’t going hungry by any stretch, but money was tight, even with both Natasha and her working part-time.

“So you took up modeling?”

“I had had some offers before, so I got in touch with an agency.”

“You left nursing school behind and quickly became one of the most sought-after models in the industry.” The woman added a dramatic pause. “Especially after you got involved with Nick Bancroft.”

Alya hated this insinuation the most—the idea, floating out in the press, that her success was somehow hooked to Nick. The insinuation that the relationship could have been a strategic move. Countering that idea was part of the reason she had stayed in that relationship longer than she should have.

She realized she hadn’t said anything in a while because the woman added, “But I’m sure no one wants a rehash of a long-gone relationship here.”

The woman sounded like she was hoping otherwise, but Alya just rolled her eyes. “I think that topic has been sufficiently covered in the media.”

“You look a lot happier now than in those photos.”

She snorted. “That’s an understatement. I’m living on my own, traveling again. It’s freeing, really.”

“And what’s next?”

“There are a lot of places I’ve wanted to visit. I’ll be at fashion week this spring, both in New York and in Milan, so I think I’ll start there.”

As she spoke these words, something loosened inside, something that had been clenched for so long she had forgotten that feeling was there. The worries hadn’t disappeared altogether, but she didn’t have to let them dictate her life. There were so many things she wanted to do, and she coulddoall of them. She could enjoy all the travel modeling gave her while it still lasted, instead of worry about Nick or how it might affect her career or whatever went through her mind.

And maybe, just maybe, Henning might want to be a part of that life. But if he didn’t, she’d still go. That’s how she knew she was strong enough to ask him. But first, she had to finish the interview.

Henning had only said a handful of sentences to Alya today, and that was probably for the best. Especially since he had gone from melancholy to mad. Now, he had no idea what he was feeling.

But what the fuck was she thinking in that interview? Laying out her itinerary for anyone to have—including Nick? And then, after Alya had done it, she’d turned to him and smiled the most heartbreakingly beautiful smile, so he shoved all those feelings back down. He had no say in how she conducted her life. He was hired to be her bodyguard, nothing more, and that’s what he had to focus on.

Henning had learned to point his laser-like focus at a goal as soon as he grew old enough to understand how things worked for a big man in the world. His body was a tool, whether he wanted it to be or not, and carefully managed, this kind of focus was used for good. But the moment he used it for his own wants and needs, he crossed a line. He had to get through this day without letting out this fierce wave of protectiveness that was threatening to pull him under. He was supposed to be letting her go, and all he could think about was pulling her closer. Especially after last night.

It happened every time he looked at her. Like right now, for example, as she sat in the snow, her cheeks pink from fiddling with her skis. His chest clenched. It hurt just to look at her, knowing this was almost over, so he looked down, fitting his cross-country ski boot into the binding. Then he straightened up, using his poles to balance.

“Need some help?” he asked, glancing in Alya’s direction.

She shook her head. “I think I’ve got it.”

“Good. Because I’m not seeing a way to move sideways in these things.” He looked down at the long, slim skis attached to his boots. He had surfed and waterskied in his teens, so how hard could cross-country skiing be? It was all on water, more or less.

Alya stood up, lifting her feet, testing the bindings. Then she turned to him and smiled. “I have a feeling this will be a short excursion.”

Oh, that smile, tentative but warm, despite how selfish he had been last night.

“I’ll follow you,” he said, and she started toward the frozen river, leaving him with his increasingly frustrating thoughts.

Somehow, while he slept, she had slipped her hand under his thermal shirt without his notice, and he awoke to find it resting over his heart. It hurt to have it there, hurt that she still reached for him the night before, after the way he had taken, taken from her. But the drive to give her what she wanted was even stronger than the hurt, and so he left it there. Let her wake up like that, let her kiss him wordlessly, all the while knowing that this was the very last time he would lie with her.

Tonight, they’d climb onto one airplane, then another, then another, each taking them farther away from this impossible world, this hotel made of ice—ice, of all things—that had him hoping beyond reason, if only for a night, that a broken man could patch himself together for someone who mattered.

Slowly she reached the enormous river, thick layers of ice covered with snow, and found a set of cross-country ski trails that ran along the near bank, cutting lines through the deep snow. There were four total, probably a set for each direction, but there was no one else in sight for miles, so she made her way onto one set and motioned for Henning to take the other. He fit his skis onto the parallel tracks and came to a stop next to her. His eyes still held heat and intensity when he looked at her—that hadn’t changed. But she had seen an edge in that look a few times today, almost as if he was angry at her. And he was really quiet. Even for him.

Henning gestured to the flat, open expanse of snow that covered the enormous river. It was empty and still, and it ran for as far as she could see in either direction. “I don’t know about this. We’re standing on ice, and I can’t stop thinking about what happens if it breaks.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Think about how thick the blocks of ice in the hotel were. You said they cut them out of this river. We’ll be fine.”

His nod was more acknowledgment than agreement. “How far do you want to go?”