Chapter Two
Liam waited in the lobby of the slopeside Sheraton for Nina to arrive.
Flames danced behind the glass doors of a stone fireplace large enough to roast an ox, and log furniture on an equally imposing scale was arranged to provide views of the now empty ski slopes across the parking lot.
Couples and families in parkas and insulated pants clomped across the stone floors in ski boots or helped themselves to hot chocolate from gleaming urns beside the front desk.
He scanned the crowds outside the picture windows and was rewarded with the sight of Nina striding toward him, a tall figure in knee-high black boots, black tights and a long cable-knit sweater in a shade of sapphire that matched her eyes.
A long black puffer coat hung open over the rest of the outfit.
Her blond hair swung loose past her shoulders.
More than one head turned to watch as she passed.
As much as she might want to remain anonymous, she had the kind of presence that made that impossible.
He met her at the door. “Thanks for meeting me,” he said as he ushered her into the lobby.
“It’s the least I could do.” Her gaze met his, and he flinched at the pain in her eyes. “I’ll try to explain myself, though there really is no excuse for the way I treated you. I’m sorry.”
“I wouldn’t be here now if I was the type to hold a grudge,” he said. He touched her shoulder, lightly. “Let’s go into dinner, order some wine, and we’ll talk.”
The hotel’s restaurant boasted an award-winning chef, an extensive wine list and a decor that matched the luxury chalet vibe of the rest of the building. The hostess led Liam and Nina to a table by a window, and Liam helped her out of her coat.
“Doug brought me to lunch here the day I was hired,” she said. “I haven’t been back since.”
“I’m guessing all ski patrollers don’t get that kind of treatment,” he said as he settled into his seat.
“I wasn’t hired as a ski patroller initially. I negotiated that after Doug approached me about being a resort ambassador.” She murmured thanks to the server, who filled their water goblets, then opened a menu.
“Why ski patrol?” he asked.
“I may have left racing, but I still love to ski. This allows me to be on the slopes every day. And I’m making a difference.”
“You enjoy the work then. I’m glad.”
“I love the work. And the people I work with.” She brightened. “And I have a dog. A golden retriever, Sky. She’s a trained avalanche rescue dog.” She hesitated, then added, “Do you still have Angel?”
“I do. She’s with me on this trip. You’ll see her tomorrow.” The twenty-pound terrier mix was a deceptively cute gray and white fluff ball who, if she hadn’t literally saved his life, had definitely rescued him from despair.
“I can’t wait to see her again.”
They gave their orders—scampi for him, chicken for her, along with a bottle of pinot grigio.
Drink in hand, Liam leaned back in his chair.
“I followed the news after I left Lake Placid. I saw they had arrested your stalker. Why did you disappear after that?” She had stopped answering his texts and calls, quit the ski team and, from what he had been able to discover, cut contact with most of the people she knew.
He had been in turns baffled, hurt and angry.
But most of all, he had been worried about her.
She looked down, into her wineglass, her lashes lacy against her pale skin. “I panicked. I was terrified.”
“I read that he attacked you.”
“Yes.” She set the wineglass aside. She swallowed, her throat convulsing.
He resisted the urge to tell her she didn’t have to give him details.
That was up to her to decide. “He stabbed me, but I got away. But even after they arrested him all I wanted was to keep running.” Her eyes met his, shiny with unshed tears.
“I didn’t want to be me anymore, to have that life. ”
“Or anything to do with that life. Including me.” His throat tightened around the words, but he made himself say them. It had taken a long time for him to accept that truth.
“I’m sorry.” She leaned forward and laid her hand on his. “I wasn’t in any shape to be with someone. I had to work on finding my way back to something like normal.”
Her touch burned him. He wanted to lean into that warmth, but she withdrew her hand, sat back and sipped more wine. “You didn’t deserve to be treated that way. I don’t blame you if you hate me now.”
“I tried to hate you for a while, but I did a lousy job of it.”
She looked away, blinking hard. The server arrived with their plates, and he waited until they were alone again before he said, “I followed the case in the papers. And I kept track of you as best I could. Regardless of what happened, I couldn’t not care about you.
Even though you ignored all my attempts to get in touch. ”
“I’m sorry. When I finally came out of my fog of fear, I was so ashamed…”
“It’s all right. We won’t mention it again. How are you, really?”
“Before today, I would have said I was doing great. I got some good professional help, eventually, and started to put my life back together. I love my job. I have Sky. And I have a house here—the first home I’ve had since I was a little girl. I love it.”
“But today?”
She shook her head and poked at her meal. “I saw those banners in town and all I could think of was that Nicholson would see them. He would find me. I haven’t had a panic attack like that in a long time. It took me by surprise.”
Aaron Nicholson. Her stalker. “Isn’t he in prison?”
She shook her head. “He was released last month.”
His stomach tightened at this unexpected news. “Has he tried to make contact?”
She shook her head. “I haven’t exactly been hiding. After all, you found me. But I thought if I left ski racing, if I wasn’t in the spotlight so much…”
“You left modeling, too.”
“Leaving that was easy. I was never really comfortable as a model. It was just something to do when I wasn’t skiing.”
“Now you’re worried this marketing campaign will bring you to his attention again. Is he here in Colorado?”
“I don’t know. He was in prison in New York, where the attack occurred, and I heard he had moved in with his mother, in Utah. That’s practically next door.”
“You need to tell Doug and Marlena. Resort security should have Nicholson’s picture and information, along with local law enforcement. I’m sure part of his parole was a stipulation that he stay away from you.”
“You’re right. I should have told them before, but I really wanted to keep all of that in the past.” She sighed.
“I’ll make sure they have the information tomorrow.
” She cut a bite of chicken and chewed. They ate in silence for a moment, then she said, “You’re kind enough not to point out that for someone who wanted to stay out of the spotlight, I chose the wrong job—representing a whole resort. ”
“I’m not going to judge you.”
“I missed skiing, and I needed a job. I was running through the money I had saved. This offer, here in this beautiful area, seemed perfect. And when so much time passed with me not doing much more than speaking at a few corporate functions and occasionally having my picture taken or signing an autograph, I thought I was safe.”
“You still are. Nicholson isn’t here.” And Liam was here. She might not appreciate him appointing himself her bodyguard, but he was going to be watching out, all the same.
* * *
Nina hardly tasted the food, too aware of the man across from her. Being with him made her feel so vulnerable—maybe because he knew her better—or had, at one time—than almost anyone else. “Tell me what you’ve been doing since…since Lake Placid,” she said.
“I had a contract with National Geographic in the Galápagos.”
“I’ll bet that was beautiful.”
“It was.” He refilled their wineglasses. “I kept my base in Ireland, but I spent most of my time traveling on different assignments. Most recently, I’ve been in Ukraine.”
“Filming the war?”
“I worked with an aid organization trying to publicize the plight of children there.”
How noble. How awful. “That sounds difficult,” she said.
“It was. But important. But I was looking for something lighter when I heard about this job.”
“You can’t get much lighter than fluff videos to promote a tourist spot.”
“And I knew you were here.” His eyes met hers. Serious eyes, the color between storm cloud and ocean. “But if you tell me to go away, I will.”
“No.” The urgency of that single syllable embarrassed her.
“I mean, I’m glad you’re the one filming this.
It will make it easier.” She would feel safer with Liam.
She could trust him to respect her. To protect her, even, if that was needed.
Once, when they were together, he had punched a drunk who had grabbed her backside.
One swift movement from Liam and the man was out cold on the floor.
“Where did you learn to do that?” she had asked as he led her away.
“A roommate I had at university was a semipro boxer. He taught me a few things.”
“You’re smiling,” he said, after the server had cleared the table and brought coffee. “What about?”
“I hadn’t realized. I was thinking about the time you punched that drunk who tried to feel me up.”
“And that made you smile?”
“I was imagining you in college, learning to box.”
“Not an attractive sight, I promise. I lost far more rounds than I ever won. My roommate pronounced me a failure.”
“Not that night.”
“At least I didn’t fail you.”
No. He had never failed her. She was the one who had run.
She looked away. “Whatever you’re thinking to look that sad, don’t,” he said.
“Please. Tonight, we’re just two friends having a lovely dinner.
Tell me more about Sky, and I’ll show you my most recent pictures of Angel being cute.
Tell me your best ski patrol stories, and I’ll share my war stories from Ukraine. ”
She nodded. “Yes.” This was what she wanted—what she needed. Something that passed for normal. Safe. The kind of life she had always longed for.
* * *
The next morning, Liam waited at the base of Lift Four for Nina to arrive.
The lifts weren’t running yet, and only a few people passed through the area.
He wore ski gear, his skis stashed in a rack nearby, and had his camera equipment in a backpack, hoping to film some good shots of Nina on the slopes before the runs grew too crowded.
Nearby, his terrier, Angel, pawed at a mound of snow. The gray and white dog wore a bright pink insulated jacket, her name in gold script on the side. “Angel, come.” Liam patted his thigh.
Angel looked at him, then went back to digging in the snow. Typical.
He spotted Nina crossing the cobblestone plaza, a midsize dog with hair the color of an Irish setter and a red harness trotting at her side.
Last night they had rekindled some of the warmth of their previous relationship, trading stories of their lives since those turbulent last days in Lake Placid with an ease that had been as comforting as a warm fire.
But this morning Nina didn’t look as glad to see him. She slowed when she spotted him. “Liam. What are you doing here?”
“Marlena said you’d be ready to start filming this morning.”
“I haven’t spoken with Marlena since I saw her in Doug’s office yesterday.”
“She texted me a schedule last night. She wants all the shooting wrapped up in one week. Didn’t you get it?”
The frown line between her eyes deepened. “I have Marlena’s texts set to go straight to my junk folder. If I didn’t I’d hear from her a dozen times a day—every message marked ‘urgent.’”
Angel had spotted Nina’s dog and scampered over, tail wagging. Sky sniffed cautiously at the little dog, then wagged her tail also. Seconds later, the two were pouncing at each other and running in circles.
“Angel looks great,” Nina said.
“So does Sky.” He patted the golden.
“That’s a fancy jacket she’s wearing.”
“I guess I’ve become one of those people.”
“What people?” she asked.
“People who buy pink, monogrammed jackets for their pets.”
Nina laughed. “I have to admit, it’s not how I’ve pictured you.”
“My mom bought it. It’s a little over-the-top, but it’s a very warm jacket.”
“And so stinking cute.”
“That, too.” He grasped the straps of the backpack. “So, are you ready to film?”
“I have to work.” She looked toward an office marked Ski Patrol. “I’m going to be late for the morning meeting.”
She called to Sky, and woman and dog headed for the office. Angel followed Sky, and Liam followed Nina.
The small ski patrol office was packed, every chair or flat surface, including the floor, occupied by a person or a dog. Angel pushed her way in and settled at Nina’s feet, next to Sky. A woman with curly black hair pointed at the little dog. “Looks like we have a new volunteer.”
“Can I help you?” A bearded redhead spoke from behind a cluttered desk.
“Liam Davies.” Liam offered his hand and the two men shook. “I’m a videographer, hired to shoot footage for a new marketing campaign for SkyCrest.”
“Connor Donaldson, head of ski patrol. Marlena sent a message about that this morning.” Connor turned to Nina. “You’re off patrol duty all week.”
Nina flushed. “Why?”
“Doug’s orders. I guess he needs you for your resort ambassador duties.”
“But we’re shorthanded already,” Nina said. “Patrol is more important than any marketing campaign.”
“Not according to Doug and Marlena.” Connor’s expression softened. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll find a way to cover your shifts.”
Nina stood. “I’ll talk to Doug.”
“It won’t do any good,” Connor said. “Just take care of the filming and don’t worry about it.”
She looked around at her coworkers, who all pretended interest in their dogs or their gear or the floor. Finally, her expression stormy, she left the building, Angel, Sky and Liam trailing after.