Under The Mistletoe. Kristin Hardy

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СКАЧАТЬ putting her hands in her pockets. “It was just too crowded inside.”

      “A loner.” He nodded as though confirming something to himself.

      “Or choosy.”

      “Is that a polite way of telling me to get lost?”

      Not yet. She wasn’t ready for this to end. “It’s a public place. You pay the rates, you ought to be able to go anywhere you want, I guess.”

      “Well, it is pretty here. I like the view.”

      “But you’re not even looking at the mountains.”

      He grinned. “You noticed that?”

      Hadley felt the flush creeping across her cheekbones and, dammit, she couldn’t help smiling back. She could just imagine what Robert would say. She was on assignment. She was supposed to be working, not flirting.

      Flirting was foolish, anyway. There was a girlfriend somewhere, had to be. Men who looked like him didn’t come to places like the Mount Jefferson solo. She had no business looking at his mouth and wondering just how it tasted. She had no business talking to him at all.

      She belonged in a winter landscape, Gabe thought, with her white-blond hair and those gray eyes. The soft, wistful gaze was gone now, replaced by a guarded expression he felt an illogical urge to wipe away. He’d seen the startled look flash across her face a few seconds before, though, had seen her eyes darken. As hotel manager, Gabe was always talking to guests, but his interest in her was far from professional.

      Down, boy.

      Okay, he was a grown-up. He could chat with her a little bit without drooling all over her. After all, charming the guests was his job. “Well, I guess you’re right to enjoy the blue skies while you can. I hear it’s supposed to snow tonight,” he said.

      Her expression brightened. “Really? I love winter, it’s my favorite time of year. I envy anyone who gets to live here.”

      “Of course, you don’t have to shovel snow for five months running.”

      She laughed, and Gabe felt the jolt right down to his toes. Forget all the foolish stuff about faeries and pixies. With her eyes dancing as she looked down at him, she was flat-out beautiful. “Spoken like someone who lives in snow country. Look at it as a cheap way to get in shape. Some people spend money on health clubs.”

      He shook his head. “I grew up on a farm. I always swore I’d never pay good money to lift weights.” He had grown up on a farm, and he’d left it as soon as he decently could. If he could point to any one character flaw, it would be an unreasonable affection for luxury. He was happy to work hard, as long as it was on his own terms. The Hotel Mount Jefferson suited him like a comfortable pair of shoes.

      “Where I live,” she said, “snow’s rare enough to be fun.”

      “Where’s that?”

      “Manhattan.”

      He wouldn’t have picked her for a city girl. She belonged in this kind of setting, among mountains and snow. “It’s not that rare there. It’s just that the city clears it away as quickly as they can.”

      She opened her mouth to speak, then looked beyond him, her eyes widening in alarm. “Oh God, there’s a fire. Look.” She pointed at the plume of smoke that rose from the distant slope.

      Gabe peered at it. “That’s not a fire, that’s the engine from the cog railway.”

      “The cog railway?”

      “There’s an old railway up there. It’s open now for skiers.”

      “A train goes up the side of that mountain?” she asked, staring at the steep slope that rose from the forested valley.

      “All the way to the top, in summer. You can only ride it half way this time of year. Ski down, too, if you want to. Do you ski?”

      “I’ve never found the time to learn.”

      “Maybe while you’re visiting. Either way, you definitely shouldn’t miss the railway.” In his pocket, his combination walkie-talkie/cell phone chirped. Gabe frowned at himself. Getting distracted chatting with a guest—however lovely—when he should be inside wasn’t like him. He’d already been gone too much that afternoon.

      “Something wrong?”

      “I’ve got to take this call. Excuse me.” He flipped open the phone and walked a few paces away. A consultation with the chef before dinner. Another crisis to deal with. The twinge of regret he felt surprised him. He turned back to his mystery girl. “Duty calls. Are you staying here long?”

      She hesitated. “I’m not sure. A few days, at least.”

      “Then back to Manhattan?”

      “Of course.”

      Time to go, he reminded himself. “Well, I hope I see you around before you leave,” he said.

      And tried not to feel like he’d lost something as he walked away.

      Chapter Two

      “You look like you’re having a good afternoon,” said Angie at the front desk as Hadley walked up.

      She was smiling, Hadley realized. It was probably a sad statement on the state of her personal life that it took so little to cheer her up. “Any chance you’ve got my room ready now?” she asked. “I checked in earlier.”

      “Let me see.” Angie leaned awkwardly toward her computer, trying to shift her stomach out of the way. She looked very pregnant, Hadley realized—like about ten months.

      Hadley cleared her throat. “I don’t mean to get personal, but should you really be up and around at this point?”

      “I know,” the receptionist said in amusement. “I look like I’m ready to drop any minute. Believe it or not, I’ve got another month to go. The doctor says Trot’s going to be our New Year’s present.”

      “Trot?”

      “My Hank’s a Red Sox fan. I wanted to name him Milo but I didn’t have a chance.”

      “Maybe he’ll be a distance runner,” Hadley said.

      Angie laughed. “Maybe.” She set the room folio on the polished maple counter. “So let’s see, you’re up on the third floor.” She passed Hadley a key on an ornate brass disk the size of a coaster and gestured at the wall of numbered pigeonholes behind her. “Just drop the key here on your way out and pick it up when you’re ready to head back to your room. Any questions?”

      It was a quaint arrangement that Hadley had only seen in the older hotels of Europe. Something about it made her feel connected, cared for. “I’m all set,” she told her. “Good luck with Trot.”

      Angie smiled. “The elevator is behind you. Enjoy your stay.”

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