Something to Prove. Cathryn Parry
She blinked quickly, forcing herself past the rawness of her grief. “What about you?” she said with a phony smile. “Do you often come up here just to visit the sunset?” She kept it as light and teasing as she could, because she didn’t want him to know how badly losing her mom had hurt. The wound was still too fresh, too raw, so she simply did her best to pretend it didn’t exist.
She laughed and rolled her eyes at him. “I’ll bet you bring a different woman with you up here every time you ski this resort, don’t you, Brody?”
But he just looked at her as if he understood the emotion she’d been fighting and didn’t judge her for it. “I’ve been training on this mountain for over ten years, Manda, and this is the first time I’ve brought anyone here.”
She might not have believed him if she hadn’t seen the flush creep into his cheeks. “Oh,” she murmured.
“You coming from home and all, I thought you were the right person to finally see it with.”
Her eyes felt moist and she realized it was because his motives were pure. He’d come up here not to make out with her on a chairlift, but because he liked her and wanted to spend time with her. She couldn’t remember the last time a guy had genuinely wanted to get to know her better, with no ulterior motives.
Who was she kidding? It had never happened. Going to a ski-country boarding school and then college, she’d found most guys who pursued her only did so because they wanted a chance to meet her famous ski-coach father. But Brody already knew her father, and he didn’t want a thing to do with him. Brody was up here because of her.
She pulled off her heavy ski glove and wiped at her eyes.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
She just shook her head. Tomorrow in church with Jeannie would be one of the hardest mornings of her life, if she were honest with herself, but right now was perfect. “Nothing about this day is wrong,” she said softly. She held out her hand and he took it. “I like skiing with you.”
But the sun was sinking, and soon it would be too dark to ski. She wasn’t ready to let him go just yet. She felt comforted by his presence, and she didn’t want him to leave. She certainly didn’t want to go back to Jeannie’s party.
“Do you want to grab some dinner?” he asked, still holding her hand. “I can ask one of the guys on my team to pick up some sandwiches for us. If we take that trail—” he pointed with his chin toward the left fork “—there’s a place at the bottom where we can meet him. It’s a harder trail, but I know you’re capable.”
She made a small laugh. “I’ll never get over how ironic that sounds.”
“Will you stay?” With his free hand, he fumbled inside his jacket pocket for his phone.
“Yes, Brody. I’ll stay.”
CHAPTER FIVE
AMANDA LOVED THE TINY, QUIRKY Leopardo Hotel. One of the guys who worked for Brody met them there with a grocery bag filled with sandwiches, a bottle of wine, real cutlery and glasses for a mini-picnic in the room Brody rented. As he set it on a table in front of the already-burning fire, Amanda smelled fresh salami, cheeses and yeasty bread fresh from the oven.
“There’s a woman in the village we trust,” Brody explained, opening up his wallet and pulling out some cash. “She has a clean kitchen and makes great food the way we ask her to.”
Amanda’s stomach growled. She unzipped Jeannie’s ski jacket and then stepped out of the rental boots the way Brody had done.
“Sorry,” he said, turning from paying the young guy for the meal. “Amanda, this is Steve. He’s my ski tech. Steve, this is Amanda.”
“Pleased to meet you.” Amanda held out her hand, but Brody’s ski tech ducked his head, his shaggy blond hair covering his eyes, and mumbled something she couldn’t catch. He was out the door before Amanda could say anything more.
“Don’t mind him,” Brody said, “he’s shy.”
There must have been a lot of that going around, because she was suddenly feeling it too. She bit her lip as he pulled out a bottle of wine from the bag and immediately started uncorking it. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all.
He passed her a glass of red wine—Barolo, according to the label. “Do you want to toast?”
She looked at the glass for a long time. The wine glittered in the firelight like rubies. “I really shouldn’t drink anything.” She could feel the flush in her face. What the heck, she might as well state the obvious. “Jeannie’s wedding is tomorrow morning, and then I’m flying home afterward.”
She gazed at him so he’d know. “To New York City.”
“I…YEAH.”
Brody got the message, loud and clear. There was no future to this…whatever they were doing. But was it bad that he only cared about now?
He tossed the corkscrew into the grocery bag. They should just eat dinner and then say goodbye. He could take her phone number and call her when he’d accomplished what he needed to.
But he didn’t want to eat or to say goodbye. Not yet. He didn’t want anything but for Amanda to stay a while longer.
He stabbed the metal poker at a burning log, licking with flames. The wisest thing to do was to end the day on a high note. Escort Amanda back to her hotel and get his head straight for tomorrow, which was packed with training sessions and meetings.
Amanda’s soft laugh sounded behind him. He glanced back to see her holding a condom box.
Whoa. The kid had packed condoms with their dinner? He shook his head. He needed to have a talk with Steve, pronto.
But she was laughing, her head tilted. “Magnums, huh?”
A roaring sounded in his ears. She wasn’t shooting down the idea. “I didn’t tell him to do that.”
“But he’s used to your habits, isn’t he?”
“No, I don’t have habits—he’s just a stupid kid who doesn’t understand that I don’t do this. Not for any reason.”
Maybe he was too vehement, because a look flickered across her face—like disappointment or sorrow.
What was happening here?
Touch her. If I don’t touch her, she’ll leave.
And he didn’t want her to leave.
In a moment he was beside her, pressing her to him and pulling off her woolen cap and resting his chin on her soft hair. He gathered it up and inhaled. Her shampoo smelled like summer raspberries. She was the summer to his winter, and it was killing him.
“Brody…” she breathed. And then her sunny gaze settled on his mouth, tempting him.
He exhaled and closed his eyes. He needed her to stay. With a guttural moan, he kissed her full on the mouth again, and as before, she made a small sound of need then opened her lips to him. His tongue swept inside, mingling with hers, kissing her like he’d never kissed another woman. She tasted so good, he didn’t care if tomorrow never came.
“Please,” she whispered, urging him on, and her slight hands were tugging at his waistband. It was so easy to slide his hands down from her silky hair and along the sides of her torso to the edge of her shirt, before pulling it over her breasts and up over her head. He dropped the shirt, heard it whisper to the floor.
Her bra was lace. Peach lace, and he could see even pinker skin beneath and a beaded, rosy nipple. A feeling of helplessness overtook him, as if he’d jumped into a pool so deep he couldn’t escape if he wanted to. “Yes,” she murmured, and he slid his thumb beneath the lace and stroked.
She felt so soft, so welcoming to him. He’d never