Sleigh Bells in the Snow. Sarah Morgan

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Sleigh Bells in the Snow - Sarah Morgan


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next to the flickering fire, to the twist of delicate lights that hung from rafters to floor turning the space into the equivalent of a fairy grotto.

      Soft, deep-cushioned sofas in a deep shade of green faced each other across a rug. Tall bookshelves made from reclaimed wood lined one wall of the cabin.

      It was a mixture of sumptuous luxury and cozy homeliness.

      “Couples,” Kayla muttered under her breath, pacing toward what she assumed was the master bedroom while Jackson stood in the center of the room, thumbs tucked into his jeans as he watched her. “It’s romantic. This place has to be all about couples.”

      And that suspicion was confirmed when she opened the door to the bedroom and saw the large log bed dressed in colors of the forest. Deep greens blended with cream and hints of silver that shone like light reflecting off crystal. Glass doors opened onto the wide deck, and she smiled as she saw the hot tub.

      “Definitely couples.”

      “That’s how I planned it, but we don’t seem to be attracting that segment of the market.”

      “Then it’s because they don’t know about it. But they will.”

      He leaned against the door frame. “You’re confident.”

      “I know my job.” Kayla strolled to the glass doors and looked out onto the deck. “If you were staying here you could lie in the hot tub, stare into the snowy forest and watch the wildlife on the lake.” She could imagine that all too easily, imagine it with him, and imagining it brought the color rushing into her cheeks. “How private is it? Do people walk past here?”

      “No. Hence the gate at the end of the path. I wanted each property to be secluded.”

      “So you could lie naked in the hot tub.” She murmured the words to herself, thinking aloud and then realized what she’d said and felt the sudden shift in the atmosphere.

      “Yes.” He spoke slowly and there was a rough note to his voice that made her stomach flip and heat rush across her skin. “You could.”

      “Give me some time to think about it. I’ll come back to you with some ideas as soon as I have something worth sharing.” She could feel him watching her and knew that if she turned her head, the look they’d share would be more than a casual glance.

      She kept her gaze fixed on the forest, feeling as if her body were on fire.

      “I’ll pick you up from here at six.” His voice was husky. “That should give you time to unpack and settle in before you meet the rest of the family.”

      “I can walk. It will give me a feel for the place.” And time to refocus. And maybe roll naked in the snow to cool herself down. “I’ll put my boots to dry. They’ll be fine.”

      “Those are the same boots you were wearing when you slipped and almost knocked yourself unconscious?” They strolled back into the living area and Jackson reached for his jacket. “About tonight’s meeting—” He shrugged on the jacket and zipped it. “It’s not going to be easy.”

      “I do this for a living. It won’t be a problem.”

      It was Jackson who worried her, not the prospect of meeting his family and talking business.

      Why would it? She’d handled skeptical CEOs who thought PR was a waste of money. She could handle his grandfather with her eyes shut.

      And once she’d done that, she’d be spending a whole week in a luxury log cabin with work, a stack of books and DVDs.

      What more could a Santa-hating workaholic ask for?

       CHAPTER FOUR

      “SO DID SUPERWOMAN ARRIVE?” Tyler strolled across his brother’s kitchen and snagged a beer from the fridge. “I thought she might turn around and fly straight back to New York once she found out what she was dealing with.”

      “She doesn’t know what she’s dealing with, but she soon will. With luck all the flights will be grounded and the roads closed. Please help yourself to my beer. Don’t hold back.”

      “I won’t. Being in this family is enough to drive a man to drink, so the least you can do is supply the damn stuff.” Tyler peered into the fridge. “This is the last one. You need to get to the store.”

      “That’s one option. Another would be for you to stop drinking my beer and buy your own.”

      “I’ll go with the first.” Tyler elbowed the door shut. “I’m earning it this week. I’m giving private ski lessons to some spoiled teenage princess who cares more about her hair than linking her turns.”

      “Good to know you’re earning your keep.”

      “I’m not going to dignify that with an answer. So does your woman ski?”

      “I doubt she’s even seen a ski close up, and she’s not my woman.” Jackson thought about how close he’d come to kissing her when he’d hauled her out of the deep snow. She’d been right there in his hands, soft and womanly and as aware of him as he was of her.

      He’d seen her fighting it. He’d been fighting it, too, but she’d done a better job than him. She’d frozen him out. Smoothly and with finesse, but still the distance had been there. Which was probably a good thing. His life was complicated enough without adding to it.

      Tyler raised his eyebrows. “It was a casual remark, but judging from your expression I hit a nerve. So is she hot?”

      Jackson thought about her skirt riding high on her thighs.

      Hot? Hell, yes.

      “Our relationship is professional and it’s staying professional. And that goes for your relationship with her, too.”

      “In other words you’re struggling to keep your hands off her. Interesting.”

      “Why is it interesting?”

      “Because for the past eighteen months you’ve been too involved with the business to notice a woman.”

      “Not true.”

      Tyler strolled to the central island in the kitchen and hooked a stool with his foot. “Tell me the name of the last woman you dated.”

      “Brenna.”

      “What? Our Brenna?” His brother’s tone chilled fractionally. “Brenna we grew up with?”

      “The same Brenna who stuffed snow down your pants when you were ten. The same Brenna who runs our ski program.” Jackson watched as a snow bunting landed on a branch near the window. Through the trees the lake sparkled in the late-evening sunshine. If it had been a few degrees warmer he would have taken his beer onto the deck and watched the sun go down over the lake and mountains. He realized that the summer had passed and he’d had no time to sit and enjoy it.

      Next year, he promised himself. Next year he’d slow down long enough to sit outside his own barn and breathe in the air.

      “Well, hell—” Tyler sat down at the stone-topped island that formed the focus of the large kitchen, “did you and she—”

      “What business is it of yours if we did?”

      “So that means you did?”

      Jackson turned with a frown. “Christ, Tyler—”

      “I guess I just never saw you and Brenna together.” His brother looked so shaken Jackson took pity on him.

      “We’re not together. There was no chemistry.”

      “So if there was no chemistry,


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