Chapter 3
The next morning I was a little tired because thoughts of Hudson kept whirling around my mind. A lot of them sexy thoughts. I missed breakfast with Catie and Kyle so they were already heading out to the slopes by the time I dragged my arse out of the shower.
Grabbing my ereader, I headed downstairs to the reception to double check the times for my manicure and pedicure appointments.
Helena, the woman manning the desk, was so helpful and didn’t even blink when I asked her if there was a slot available for more treatments toward the end of my stay.
I intended to use the hell out of that spa.
The reception area of Winterhaven Inn was impressive.
Vaulted ceilings, a floor-to-ceiling marble slab fireplace that crackled and pop, flickering firelight around the room.
There were comfortable couches and chairs near the fire for guests to warm up.
I considered curling up on one of the couches to read but I really needed my morning coffee.
So I found myself eating breakfast pastries in the coffeehouse across from the inn while I sipped at an Americano and read. I was deep into my book so it took me a second to realize someone had taken the other seat at my bistro table.
I looked up from my ebook and my heart thumped hard in my chest at the sight of Hudson.
This was followed by a flutter of butterflies that shocked the heck out of me since the last time I could remember having butterflies over a guy was when I was thirteen and still dancing ballet.
I’d gone to a ballet “summer camp” of sorts in London to prepare for my audition at RSC (The Royal Conservatoire of Scotland).
There I’d met Mikhail, a fourteen-year-old Russian dancer, who was superb, brooding and beautiful. He’d been my first kiss.
Butterflies. Wow. I didn’t think a grown woman could still get those.
Oh boy, was I in trouble.
Hudson wore a small smile as he studied me. I noted he was in a warm jacket and jeans, like me, and not in full snow gear. He still hadn’t shaved.
Yum.
“You want to finish that coffee and meet me on the slopes?”
I shook my head. “I’m not skiing. I hate skiing. What are you doing here? Don’t you have work to do?”
“Nope.” His gaze dipped to my ereader. “What are you reading?”
“The Devil in Winter.”
He chuckled. “Is that a joke?”
I couldn’t help but smile. The man made me want to smile all the time. What was that? “It’s not actually. Just ironic. It’s a historical romance. My favorite book.”
For some reason this made him grin. “Your favorite book, huh? See, now I’m getting somewhere.”
“I also told you I hate skiing,” I reminded him for some bizarre reason.
I shouldn’t encourage the flirt, something I’d decided this morning after a night’s rest. As much as I was inexplicably drawn to this man, the whole reason I’d come to Colorado was because people (mostly boyfriends) had tried to take advantage of me my whole life.
I wanted to be the open person I was but I didn’t want to be vulnerable.
I had to toughen up and find out who I was before I allowed myself to trust another man.
No matter how sexy he was.
“Yeah, I’m not sure I believe that.”
I rolled my eyes. “No, you don’t want to believe that because the slopes are your life.”
“They’re not my life.” Hudson crossed his arms on the bistro table and leaned toward me.
His proximity meant it was impossible for me to look anywhere but into his eyes.
Eyes that were incredibly warm and sparkled with humor and intelligence.
Goddamn this attraction! “They are a big part of it but not my life. I’m not an instructor here.
I’m just helping Deke out—the inn owner.
Grew up in Copper Cliffs so I’ve been skiing my whole life, know what I’m doing.
During high season they can use all the experienced instructors they can find.
I own a construction company that takes me around the state but these last few years the winters have been so bad we can’t work.
Sometimes we get work out of state but not this year, which means my ass is on the slopes.
If I’m going to be here anyway I don’t mind helping the inn out when they’re struggling to keep up with demand for ski lessons.
” He smiled. “See, now you know something about me, too.”
“Isn’t that rough?” I asked, while mentally kicking myself for enjoying conversation with him. “Having months of no work?”
He shrugged. “I’ve learned to manage it well. The company is successful. I work it so we make enough during the year to see my guys through the winter.”
“Your own company. That’s impressive for someone your age,” I hedged.
Hudson chuckled. “You want to know my age, angel, just ask.”
“Fine. What age are you?”
“Thirty-three. What age are you?”
“Twenty-five.” Thirty-three. Owned his own company.
Was definitely confident in his own skin.
I suddenly felt too young for him in every way and I was extremely annoyed that this disappointed me.
It was, however, also a reality check. It wasn’t as if anything could happen between me and Hudson.
We lived on different continents for a start.
“You’re just a baby,” he teased.
You have no idea. I decided then and there we had to end this flirtation.
I liked him too much. When he smiled I felt that flutter of butterflies.
And I had the overwhelming desire to ask him to come to my room for no holds barred sex that would blow my mind, which was so unlike me.
Time to put a stop to it all. “I am. Young, I mean, in comparison to you. In more ways than one. Plus, I really, genuinely don’t like skiing.
Excluding the fact that I broke my leg during a high school skiing trip, I just don’t like skiing.
It’s wet and cold.” I leaned forward now, too, and ignored the shiver that sprinkled down my spine at the way his eyes dipped automatically to my mouth.
“I’m not outdoorsy. At all. I like reading.
” I gestured with my ereader. “I like shopping. A lot. I like dancing. I like going to the ballet. To the movies. To the theatre. I like cooking. I love baking. I like organizing things, from my well-stocked closet to events. I don’t like”—I gestured to him—“skiing, chopping wood, running, mountain biking, hiking, fishing, hunting, or whatever the things are that mountain men like to do.” I sat back in my chair, a little breathless with exasperation.
“So, I don’t know who you think I am but I’m not her. ”
Hudson seemed visibly surprised by my outburst, blinking slowly for a second or two. And then he grinned that wicked, crooked smile of his. “Chopping wood? Hiking? Fishing? Mountain men like me?”
Crap. Had I just been unbearably ignorant? “You don’t like all that?”
“I don’t chop wood. You can buy it chopped.
I hate fishing. It bores the fuck out of me.
But I do like hiking, mountain biking, running, and anything else that gets my blood pumping.
However”—he leaned toward me—“I don’t need you to like all those things.
Though I have a feeling I can talk you into hiking. ”
“How’s that?”
He studied me carefully. “Saw you come out of the lodge before you came here this morning. You just stopped and stared out across the valley wearing this sweet little smile. You appreciate the beauty of where you are, I can tell. I could take you hiking to some beautiful spots in the summer.”
Ah there’s the rub. “I won’t be here, Hudson.”
His eyes heated at my soft reply. “I like the way you say my name, angel.”
“I’m not an angel.”
“You like to bake?”
It was my turn to blink at the random question. “Yes. Do you?”
Hudson shook his head. “No, but I sure as shit would love to taste whatever you can bake.”
I laughed at his persistence. “You’re tireless.”
“Yeah. So if you’re done trying to put me off—stellar job by the way—will you have dinner with me tonight?”
Before I could answer, a young woman, perhaps a few years younger than me, approached our table wearing snow gear and clutching a to-go cup. “Hey, Hudson.” She smiled prettily down at him.
He gave her a warm smile in return that immediately made me pay close attention to their interaction. “Dara, hey.”
“You’re not going on the slopes today?” She shot me a curious look.
“There doesn’t seem to be a need for me today. You booked up?”
“All day.” She nodded and looked at me again.
Hudson caught it and gestured to me. “Dara, this is Autumn. Autumn, this is Dara. Dara’s a ski instructor during high season.”
She smiled politely at me. “You’re a guest?”
“I am.” And deciding to try to push Hudson again, I blurted, “I take it Hudson is the resort’s local player? Flirts with all the guests and persistently asks them out to dinner?”
His head snapped my way at the question and I could feel his frown even though I kept my gaze locked on Dara.
Her eyes widened and she turned back to Hudson. “Did you break up with Rae?”
Rae? Who was Rae?
“Almost a year ago,” he answered but kept his focus on me.
“I didn’t know. I’m sorry.” She looked at me.
“To answer your question, no, Hudson isn’t the resort’s local player—far from it.
Last I heard he was in a serious relationship.
But, you know, maybe you should ask him yourself since he’s sitting right there.
” She shot him a look that clearly said ‘good luck’ and strode out of the coffeehouse.
Squirming a little, I forced myself to meet his gaze.
He did not look happy.
“She has a crush on you,” I said for some inane reason.
“I know,” he replied through gritted teeth. “I’ve known her since she was seventeen so it’s not going to happen.”
I nodded and tried to appear like I didn’t care about anything one way or the other.
“Want to tell me what the hell that was about? You got something to ask, babe, you ask me.”