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“Aw,” he said, pretending to join in, brushing his thumb over her cheek and then regretting it because it was followed by an overpowering urge to kiss her. He shifted away again. “I’ll let you keep the gear a little longer.”

Her expression seemed tentative. “Maybe . . .” She glanced away. “Maybe we can still car share, sometimes. Just until Ben finds someone permanent.”

“Yeah,” he said, smiling even though imagining her leaving the resort made his heart sink right down to his snow boots. “I’d like that.”

Maya fingered the keys on his laptop. “Anyway. Shall I ask Brodie about donating something when I see him later?”

Sam stopped himself from going with his gut reaction, which was to shout no inappropriately loudly, because he was aware that his motivations behind that response were far from honorable. Don’t be a tosser.

He thought for a moment, and realized that it wouldn’t be a great option anyway. “I would’ve said yes, but we already have some ski gear on the prize list.”

“Ah, bugger,” she said, eyeing the screen. “So we do.”

“We could keep it as a reserve option, though,” Sam said, feeling bad that she was disappointed not to have solved the issue. “If we can’t think of anything different.”

Maya stared out of the window again, and a smile spread over her face.

“What is it?” he asked, admiring the way in which the crackling fire cast a soft orangey glow over her beautiful face, making her lovely smile impossibly more appealing.

“I’ve got it.” She brought her gaze back onto him, and it was as if a light were being shone in his direction. “We can use one of Arran’s landscapes. It’s perfect, because they’re of the Glenavie mountains, where the race is taking place. Plus he’s a local artist, and”—she pointed at him in emphasis—“it’ll be good publicity for his business.”

Sam nodded. It was a brilliant idea, but, as much as he hated to admit it, there was a stumbling block. “I love it. The only thing is I don’t have the cash to stump for a painting, and I’m not asking him to donate it. Not when he’s just getting off the ground.”

Maya waved her hand. “Course not. That’s why I’m going to buy it. Then I’ll donate it to the race.”

The breath caught in his throat as he looked at her. “That’s so generous.”

She wrinkled her nose, and it made him want to kiss it. “Not at all. I want to help. It makes me feel good.”

Sam touched her hand. “Can you afford it? After losing your job? And you’ve only just started here.”

She shrugged. “It’s fine. I’ve got savings, plus the money from selling the flat I had with Rich. He compensated me for all the furniture because he moved into his own place and I’m living rent-free with the parentals.”

Sam sensed the weight of the problem lifting from his shoulders. It seemed she had that effect on him.

The Maya effect.

Then he realized that she’d said flat, when he’d expected the two of them to have had some huge mansion in the posh end of Glasgow.

“Message Arran now and get him to put one aside for us,” Maya said. She paused. “Not our favorite one, though.”

Sam took out his phone, glancing up. He liked that she’d said our favorite. “No? You want that one for yourself?”

She glanced away. “Yeah. That’s right.”

Sam sent the message to Arran. “Done.”

Rubbing her hands together, Maya leaned back. “Excellent. I’ll go fetch it tomorrow and give him the cash.” She smiled. “I might take Liv with me. She needs to choose a Christmas present.”

She lifted her mug to sip her hot chocolate, and when she finished, there was a blob of cream on the end of her nose. Before he could stop himself, Sam reached out to wipe it off with his thumb. She molded her gaze with his, her chestnut eyes wide. Without thinking, he popped his thumb into his mouth to quickly suck the cream off. Her eyes seemed to grow even wider as she watched him, a light blush coloring her cheeks.

He shifted in his seat, painfully aware of her proximity and regretting his actions in case they had come off as inappropriate.

Maya smiled, taking another sip. “This really is the best hot chocolate.”

She didn’t seem to have taken offense, so he relaxed again, trying not to stare too hard as she licked the remnants of her drink from her lips.

“Guess what?”