Chapter 2
Chapter two
Daniel
My heart punches the air out of my lungs when I look up to where Cathy’s pointing and see the most stunningly beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. She’s my one-on-one for today. Penelope Sills. What a gorgeous name. And she’s all mine.
I stride over to her, eager to talk to her, to see her, to be next to her, to have her eyes on me. I have to get closer to see if she really is as beautiful up close.
And of course, she is.
Her cheeks pinken even more as I approach, an easy smile on my face.
“Are you here for me?”
Her gorgeous green eyes widen, and I realize how that sounded.
I laugh. Growing up wealthy and then years of working with the public have given me confidence I probably haven’t earned at twenty-five, but it always works in my favor.
“I meant, are you my lesson for today, Penelope?”
She’s having a hard time holding my gaze, and I’m hoping that means she’s as attracted to me as I am to her. But she gives me a tiny nod.
“Great, why don’t we go over here and get out of the way?” I motion to a spot in the roped-off section designed for lessons, but away from the crowd and traffic.
She struggles with the equipment, so I scoop up hers in one hand and carry mine in the other. I catch a grateful and surprised glance from the corner of my eye.
“Have you ever skied before?” I ask her. It’s a professional question, of course, but I’m also dying to learn everything about this woman, who will be mine for the next eight hours.
She lets out a self-deprecating laugh before she covers her mouth, almost horrified. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to... I just... it never...”
I drop our equipment at our feet once I’m satisfied we’re not in danger of getting run over by runaway snowboarders.
I turn to face her, and maybe I’m standing closer than what would normally be appropriate, but I want her to relax with me, and maybe hint that I’m interested.
I grip her by her shoulders and dip my head to look her in the eye. She bites her lip and stares over my shoulder.
She shakes her head. “I’m sorry. I just..
. skiing is expensive. I could never afford it.
My friend bought me this lesson as a birthday present.
The idea of me,” her eyes widen comically as a gloved hand hits her chest. “... doing this...” That same glove waves at the slopes behind me, and she shakes her head again.
Ah, my sweet girl doesn’t come from money. In a flash, I get the mental image of spoiling her. Taking her on vacations, buying her jewelry, and expensive gowns. I grew up privileged, but money’s never held much value in my mind. I bet she’d be fun to spoil.
“Alright,” I say with a clap of my hands. “Do you have any goals for today? Anything you want to accomplish?”
She shakes her head instantly. “I’d like not to get hurt?”
I laugh at her simplistic wish. She’s charming as well as gorgeous.
I touch her shoulder again, reveling in what an honor it is to be able to touch a woman like her. She doesn’t shy away from my touch. In fact, it feels like she’s leaning closer to me.
“I promise we’ll take it slow.”
I kneel to inspect her boots. “How do your boots feel? Are they snug? Too tight?”
She winces and bends her knees slightly. “They actually hurt a little.”
With a practiced hand, I flick open the buckles and pull the tab open. I gently cup her calf and pull her foot out of her boot.
“I take it these aren’t your bibs?”
They’re about four inches too long, and the excess was squeezed between her hard plastic boot and her shin. Poor thing. I know that had to hurt.
I look up at her when she doesn’t answer, but she’s looking at the place where my hands are touching her leg.
I rub her calf with my thumb gently. A stolen intimate moment.
I want to touch her all over. I want to see what’s waiting for me under big, bulky ski clothes.
I want to see what freckles and moles are waiting for me to trace with my tongue.
She finally clears her throat and shakes her head ‘no’.
I tug her pants up out of her boots and guide her foot back into them, letting the excess fall on the outside of the boot.
“Your boots should never hurt. They should just feel like a tight hug.” I go about the same procedure with her other leg, letting my contact linger longer than I probably should.
I don’t want to creep her out or overtly hit on her while she can’t escape me for the next eight hours.
But I don’t want to pass up an opportunity with this woman.
And currently, nothing in her body language has been anything but encouraging.
She’s shy, flustered, and overwhelmed by the opportunity to ski, but she’s not tense, or nervous, or flighty.
I walk her through her equipment, how to get her boots in and out of her bindings, and how to hold her poles.
And then lead her to the magic carpet.