Author: Christine Bell

Her brisk nod sent the puffball flapping. A moment later, he squeezed her hand and she did exactly what he told her. They were scooped up and began the slow ascent. She let out an exultant whoop. “I did it! And it was kind of easy.”

“Right. It’s low now, but don’t look down, all right?”

The second he said it, she leaned forward and peered down at the snow-covered ground moving farther and farther away from them. She sat back fast, which sent the chair swaying. Her eyes went wide, and she gripped his hand. “Everything’s fine,” she muttered softly.

“Everything is fine,” he assured her. “Try to sit still and it will feel a lot more stable, okay?”

Her nod this time was nothing more than a slight incline of her head. She was taking him at his word.

“Are we almost there?”

“Almost.” He patted her hand and tried to think of something to take her mind off the ride. They were away from prying eyes and ears. Perfect time to talk shop.

“How was yoga this morning? Nico getting frisky yet or what?” He kept his tone light, but every time he thought of the bastard with his hands on her it made him want to break stuff…namely Nico’s fingers.

“N-no. He, uh, has been pretty good with boundaries.” Her tense face relaxed a little, and she released the death grip she had on his hand to mull his question over. “One thing that I’ve noticed, though, if I say anything about you at all that could be construed as negative, it’s like he tries to fan the flames. Even this morning, he asked if we had children and I said no, that you wanted to wait to have kids. He gave me this intense look and said ‘And what do you want, Lindy?’ Like he wants to stir up trouble.”

Another surge of anger coursed through him, this one even less rational. She wasn’t his actual wife. Why should he possibly care that Nico was trying to sour their non-existent relationship? It was probably less about what the manipulations were and who he was exercising them on than the fact he was doing it at all. After what he’d done to Cara, the man needed to be stopped.

It only made sense that the embers of anger had flourished into flames of rage since they’d arrived. They were nothing more than the result of having to face the man who hurt his sister every day and having to watch him try to do it to someone else. It had nothing to do with Lindy.

“You think that’s it?” she asked, interrupting his thoughts. “He drives a wedge between us so he can put the moves on me later. Maybe offer me a great investment opportunity with the promise that, once he’s settled, he’ll send for me, or some nonsense? I don’t know, but these sly little digs are definitely a part of this somehow. Now that I’ve worked it through out loud, I’m convinced. I’m going to amp it up and really start complaining about you a lot. See if that shakes anything loose.”

He didn’t doubt that her instincts were right. He made a mental note to see if any of the other wives were getting any one on one time with Nico. Which reminded him, he had to check his email to see if Gavin had gotten back to him with the checks on that list of names yet.

“Have the Cedarhursts mentioned anything else about meeting Cara again?” Although Calvin had made a couple of remarks to him regarding her looks and had asked if she would be coming to visit the retreat anytime, once Owen had added mental disorders to her faux-addiction, he’d ceased and desisted.

“Nope, not a word. I don’t think it was as significant to them as it was to us.”

“Speaking of which, remind me to call her with an update when we get back. She’s getting restless, and I think your sense about Nico will give her something to chew on for a few days.”

As they reached the top of the mountain, he turned to her. “Ready?”

She looked up with a start. “Wow, that was fast. I didn’t even realize…” She turned her grateful gaze on him. “Thanks. You’re really good at that.”

“I aim to please.”

The ever-present electricity that lay right beneath the surface arced between them and the warm, comfortable moment sizzled away. That had been happening more and more since The Incident, and although he tried his best, they were hard to ignore. But her words—that fearful, desperate tone—stuck with him. If you already know you could never be that man, then stop.

So he’d stopped. And he’d been stopping before it started again ever since.

“Get your pole ready at your side. Lean forward a bit, and when your skis touch the ground, bend your knees a little. Don’t let the tips cross.”

She nodded, her brow wrinkled in concentration. A moment later, they were off the lift, down the tiny incline, and at the top of the bunny slope looking down. Lindy was still standing and positively beaming with pride. She was so bloody cute, he couldn’t help but beam back.

“Great start. Now here’s what we’re going to do this first trip down. We’ll take it nice and slow. Make wide zigzag patterns, and any time you want to stop, point your tips toward each…”

He didn’t get to finish. Lindy had stopped listening and was shielding her eyes as she peered down the hill. Before he caught sight of whatever had captured her attention, she had shoved off and was heading down the slope in a tuck position, gaining speed with every yard.

Bollocks.

“Slow down!” he called after her, mimicking her stance, hoping his faster skis would give him ample time to catch up and—do what? What could he possibly do? She was tearing ass down the side of the mountain, her beginner skis practically screaming all the way. Short of tackling her, there was no way for him to stop her descent. The best he could do was to get close enough to talk to her and guide her into slowing down before they hit the bottom. He visualized the landscape at the end of the hill, and dread clenched at his stomach. After the lift and the booth, there was maybe ten yards of flat land, then a wall of pine trees. If she couldn’t manage to stop before then…

He deepened the bend in his knees and pressed his elbows close to his side. Focusing on the red pom-pom flapping behind her like a beacon, he willed himself to go faster. Fifteen meters became ten, ten became five. Soon he could almost touch her. Almost.

“Lindy, I’m right behind you. It’s okay, but you’ve gotta listen to me.” She didn’t even look his way. Hell, even he wasn’t sure any noise had come from his lips as his words were sucked away by his velocity and the mountain winds.

He veered right to flank her. “Lindy!” He shouted with all his might, and this time she looked up, her eyes wild and terrified.

“Stand up more. Try to move to the left, then back again. It’ll slow you down.”

She’d straightened her legs some, but one of her poles flew out of her hand and she started to wobble. He spared a glance at the bottom of the hill that was fast approaching. They were out of time.

Before he could make another move, it happened. Her arms pinwheeled, and he watched in horror. She hit the deck, arms and legs splayed at seemingly unnatural angles. One of her skis flew off and came at him like a projectile missile. He managed to dodge it as the other flew off in the opposite direction. Time slowed to a crawl. She tumbled over and over before finally skidding to a halt a few meters from the tree line. Heart in his throat, he whooshed to a stop, kicking snow out in front of him. He tossed his poles aside and snapped off his skis.

“Lindy, God. Please say something.” He approached, fear ramping up to abject terror.

She wasn’t moving.

Chapter Fourteen

Frantic shouts penetrated the strident ringing in her ears, and she lifted her head. Owen was standing over her, saying her name over and over. A moment later, he was joined by the girl from the lift booth and a crowd had started to gather.

“Dear God, Belinda, are you all right?” a male voice murmured. Nico.

When they had gotten off the lift and started toward the slope, she could’ve sworn it was him halfway down the hill with his arms wrapped around Jordan the Warden like a lover, but she couldn’t be certain. In her haste to get closer, she’d lost her balance, and that’s when the shit hit the fan.

Now the two of them stood over her, concern etched on their faces. “Say something, Lindy. You’re scaring me,” Jordan said, dropping to her knees beside her.

She sucked in a breath and attempted a smile. “It’s okay. That’s how I like to stop,” she quipped, hoping the bystanders didn’t hear the tremble in her voice. “Everything’s fine. Nothing to see here.” She rolled to her side and tried to stand, but a throbbing pain emanated from her lower back, and she reconsidered.

“Lie back down until the medic can look at you. You could have broken something. Christ, Lindy, what the hell were you thinking?”

Owen’s furious gaze drilled into her, and the thin shell of composure she’d clung to since the other night crackled then shattered. It had been a hard few days, and her unintentional Evel Knieval down that slope had scared the crap out of her. “W-w-what kind of qu-qu-question is that? It wasn’t on p-p-purpose.” She snuffled, hot tears streaking down her frozen cheeks. She swiped a mittened hand over her nose, hoping to God she hadn’t made herself look even more pathetic by smearing snot all over her face. “I was getting ready and the next thing I knew I was heading down the mountain. I tried to remember what the teacher told me, but my mind went blank.”

“Let me through, please.” A robust guy sporting a full black beard stepped up, shouldering Owen out of the way and motioning for Jordan to move. He reminded Lindy of a friendly bear, and his warm brown eyes scanned her quickly before meeting her gaze. “Talk to me. What’s your name?”

“Belinda Kn—” She swallowed hard and stole a glance at Owen. He still wore the same thunderous frown. “O’Neil.”

“I’m Mike, and I’m going to take real good care of you, Belinda.” He bustled around, digging through a bag while asking her questions about pain and whether she’d struck her head, which, luckily, she hadn’t. After testing the range of motion in all of her appendages and checking her vitals he finally stood. “You want to try to stand?”

“Yeah. I’m feeling way better now,” she said. He held out both hands and leaned back to stabilize her. She rose to her feet, marveling at how easy it was compared to the twenty times she’d fallen in practice. Then she realized she was no longer wearing skis.

As she straightened fully the twinge in her lower back worsened. “Ugh. Not awesome.”

“Yeah, you’re going to be sore. I gotta tell you, that’s a win all day for you. From what the lift operator said, we’re lucky we’re not dealing with a broken femur or worse.”

She refused to think about what the “or worse” could have been.

“Good thing you’re so fit. I think that might have saved you a lot of damage. You okay on your own two wheels?” Mike the Bear asked.

“Yes. I prefer it. My muscles are getting tight, and I think I’ll feel better if I walk it off.”

He nodded and thrust a thumb Owen’s way. “Is this your boyfriend?”

“Husband,” she corrected with a stab of guilt. She wasn’t fond of lying anyway, but lying to someone who’d helped her made her feel like crud stuck to the bottom of a shoe.

“Make sure your wife takes it easy,” he said, turning to face Owen. “She doesn’t appear to have a concussion, but to be on the safe side, watch out for—”

“I played rugby for years, I know the drill. Wake her up every hour, look out for vomiting. I’ll stay on top of it.”

Lindy wanted to kick him in the shin. Mike was trying to do his job, and Owen was being such a jerk, and for no good reason. She squeezed the medic’s hand and worked up a warm smile. “I really appreciate you looking out for me, Mike. I was freaking out for a minute and knowing you were there doing your thing, making sure I was okay, made all the difference. We’re very grateful for your quick response, aren’t we, hon?”