Satisfied that he’d be properly outfitted when he hit the slopes, he returned to the master suite, dropped his sweats and T-shirt on the floor, and crawled beneath the heavy comforter. Leon had situated himself on the pillow next to Parker’s the same way he did at the apartment. So much for the soft leather chair.
It had been forever since he’d slept in the nude, and he could not recall ever having slept on sheets as soft. The thread count must be up there in the thousands. Again, Max spared no expense when it came to his guests.
Guests. He couldn’t help but remember the woman who’d given him a lift up the mountain, a total stranger. Then he’d had the audacity to tell her he wasn’t out to make friends. Damn, it’d been too long since he’d been with a woman, in an intimate setting, or any setting, for that matter. If he ran into her, he would apologize, and if she didn’t tell him to go to hell, he might even ask her out for a drink. It would take his mind off that little girl who wasn’t going to be celebrating Christmas this year or any other, opening presents and screaming and shouting her delight.
With an even heavier heart, Parker slid farther beneath the plush bedding, willing himself to go to sleep and forget about events of the dreadful day.
Tossing and turning, Parker concluded sleep was not his friend that night. Normally, he could fall asleep instantly; given his profession, he had to catch a few winks when the opportunity arose. Now, there he was in that luxurious condo, nothing to keep him from doing whatever he wanted, and he could not force himself to fall asleep. Unwilling to lie in bed any longer, Parker found his sweats on the floor where he’d left them. He slipped them on and went to the kitchen in search of a late night, or in this case, an early morning snack.
Upon hearing his feet hit the floor, Leon stretched, arching his back into a V, then had the audacity to crawl into the warm spot Parker had just vacated.
Laughing as he found the kitchen, Parker realized Max had outdone himself yet again. The kitchen was all black and chrome; a man’s kitchen, Parker thought. He found a giant refrigerator filled with so much food, he had a hard time choosing.
Between fresh meats, fruit, and a variety of cheeses, he finally settled on slicing a Granny Smith apple and a few wedges of sharp cheddar. Some gourmet he was. He poured himself a large glass of milk and took everything to the living room, where he found a giant-sized television mounted on the wall. It had to be at least sixty inches if his estimate were correct. He found a remote on the table by a long, sleek, black leather couch. While the leather was a nice touch, it wasn’t him, he thought, as he sat down with his plate of food and his milk. As he munched, he surfed through hundreds of channels yet saw nothing that would grab his attention.
Without knowing or understanding why, his thoughts returned to the woman who’d driven him up the mountain to the condo. Hadn’t old Nick Star, as he was now going to refer to him, said she was an actress from New York City? What in the world is she doing out West? Or is she simply taking a vacation, like me? And alone, too.
It surprised him that someone with her good looks would be alone. Maybe she isn’t, he thought. Maybe she has a lover, boyfriend, beau, however they referred to them now, coming to meet her tomorrow. She had said she’d be on the slopes, but she really hadn’t indicated if she would be skiing solo. And, of course, he’d had to put his foot in his big-ass mouth and let her know he would not welcome any new friendships. On or off the slopes. Period. So, just like everything else in his life, he’d screwed that up before he’d even had a chance to start anything.
Normally, Parker was not one to wallow in self-pity. As a doctor, he knew you couldn’t allow your emotions to get the best of you, knew that there was a risk with all patients, even those with nothing more than a runny nose. It is what it is, he’d told himself. But in all his years as a trauma surgeon, he had never lost a child. This event had marred his vision of himself as a professional.
Then he reminded himself, before that day, he’d never had a child die on his table.
Never.
Chapter 10
Angelica jolted awake, disoriented. Seeing her surroundings brought it all back to her. She was in Colorado to ski. She’d fallen asleep on the sofa, her cup of coffee still sitting on the hearth, the Christmas tree lights still twinkling. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes, tossed another log in the fireplace, then went to the dream kitchen, where she made another pot of coffee.
Excitement tingled in her veins for the first time in a very long time, even more so than her first time walking on stage in a semi-big production. She’d spent so many years trying to “make it” in the theater that she hadn’t focused on life’s simple pleasures as much as she should have. As she waited for the coffee to brew, she peered out the kitchen window.
A clear blue sky shone on glistening ivory snow on the mountain. Giant spruce trees, cedars, and firs of what must be every variety in the world dotted the mountainside like individual Christmas trees, their branches full and heavy with recent snow. Snow that sparkled like diamonds instead of the brown slush she was used to. Yes, the first real snowfall in the city gave Manhattan an added purity, but once it melted, the beauty became nothing more than a hassle to get through. Angelica didn’t see that where she was now. What she saw boggled the mind, the great majestic mountains serving as a protector of Mother Nature’s bounty.
Not wanting to waste another minute looking out the window, she gulped her coffee down, poured a second cup, and brought it to the master bath. She would have loved to sink into the large Jacuzzi tub but knew she would appreciate it much more when her muscles ached from a day of hard skiing. She opted for the giant shower and was mildly surprised to see there were eight showerheads, each placed at a different level, so that no part of her would be without the shower’s warm spray. Ingenious, she thought as she lathered with a grassy-smelling body wash provided by someone who knew the business. All she was lacking were a few groceries. She scrubbed and washed her hair, then dried off with a warm towel from the heating rack. She could get used to this lifestyle. Afford it, no; used to it, most definitely.
From her luggage, she removed a pair of old jeans she’d had since high school, which, fortunately, still fit. She pulled a white tank top on, then topped it with a bright yellow wool sweater. Layers always worked in the city; she didn’t know why they wouldn’t work at the ski resort. She pulled on red wool socks, then slid her feet into her worn black Uggs. She wouldn’t trade her Uggs for anything. Well, maybe a new pair, she thought as she saw that the heels were low and worn.
She piled her wet hair on top of her head, then thought better of it. The temperature was due to drop into the single digits. She found a blow-dryer in the bathroom cabinet, dried her hair, then placed it in a ponytail. It was nice not to wear a wig, or have her own hair styled in such a way that it actually hurt. No, this was perfect. Clean hair and nothing more. Again, one of the simple things in life that she’d been somewhat deprived of. Then she thought about the makeup. No wonder she was starting to see early signs of aging. She’d allowed her skin to take a brutal beating daily with stage makeup. Other than sunscreen, she was not going to put anything on her skin either. It was time to go au naturel.
Angelica finished her coffee, then turned off the pot and Christmas tree lights before heading out to her rental. Though the air was cold, it was dry, making it much more tolerable than what she was used to. She hadn’t bothered to wear her gloves or hat, deciding she wouldn’t need them since she would be inside the car except when she’d make a fast run inside the minimarket. She cranked the heat to max and was greeted with an icy blast of cool air. She clicked the fan off, allowing the engine to warm up before turning it on again. Just showed her lack of driving experience. Once she adjusted the heat control and her rearview mirror, she backed out of the narrow drive and steered the SUV downhill toward the main village at Maximum Glide.
Angelica drove carefully down the mountain. Though there was snow piled at least five feet high on either side of the ro
ad, salt covered the road itself, assuring her that someone was watching out for those slick patches of ice she did not want to become acquainted with.
She’d traveled approximately two miles when she almost ran off the road. Not from a patch of ice, but from what she saw. Slowing down to a crawl, she lowered the passenger window, straining to make sure she was seeing what she thought she was seeing, that her mind wasn’t playing tricks on her. Squinting against the bright Colorado morning sun, Angelica checked her rearview mirror for traffic, then, seeing there wasn’t any, she stopped right in the middle of the road.
“Hey,” she called out to the guy she’d taken to the penthouse condo last night.
Parker North.
He stopped and turned to look at her. When he saw her, he shook his head and stepped up to the passenger side. “We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” he said, his voice and attitude the complete opposite of last night’s.
“I take it you must’ve had a visit from old Scrooge himself,” she added, trying not to smile. She was not going to make this easy on him. He’d told her she looked rough, and he’d been incredibly rude to her after she’d driven him all the way to his condo.
In the early morning sun, Angelica thought him much more handsome than she had last night. His dark hair flipped up at the ends, and his eyes were a deep chocolate brown with gold flakes, making them appear as though a fire radiated from within. He wasn’t tan at all, so she could safely assume he didn’t spend too much time on the slopes. She guessed he did most of his work inside, though she had no clue exactly what kind of work he did and didn’t really care. As he’d said last night, he really wasn’t there to make friends. Well, she wasn’t either. Not really. She reminded herself she was in Colorado to relax, enjoying life’s simple pleasures while she debated her future as an actress.
He leaned against the door, peering inside the open window. Angelica was sure he was blushing. Or maybe he was about to have a heart attack from walking in this thin air and at such a high altitude. “Oh my gosh, are you okay? Get inside, quick!” Without further thought, she leaned across the bucket seats and opened the passenger door. “Hurry!”
He did as instructed but didn’t appear to be in any kind of physical distress. “Thanks, I guess I deserved that.” He hit the button to raise the window.
Angelica glanced at him. “What are you talking about?” She put the car in gear and cautiously drove down the mountain, trying to watch the road and her passenger at the same time.
“I was rude last night. I’m usually not so quick to snap a pretty girl’s head off.”
She slowed down, then stopped. “You’re not having a heart attack?” she inquired, suddenly unsure of everything that had passed between them in the past minute.
“Why would you think I’m having a heart attack? I’m not in the best of shape, but I do work out when my job allows me to.”
Angelica felt like the idiot of the month. She wasn’t sure what to say but knew she needed to say something, anything, that would get her out of the hole she worked her way into. “Uh . . . your face was red. I just thought . . . the high elevation, you know, some people have trouble with it.” If ever she sounded airheaded, it was then.
Parker North smiled, and when he smiled, Angelica thought a second sun chose that moment to shine exclusively for her. This guy had a smile that truly lit up the world, or at least her portion of it. He adjusted the heater’s vent so that it was aimed directly at his face. “Lucky for me, I don’t have any trouble. I’ve lived here most of my life.”
Yes, he’d told her something to that effect last night, but it escaped her just now.
“I need to get my truck. I tried using my cell phone to call Max but couldn’t get a signal. I figured I’d keep walking until this piece of electronic magic decided to do its thing.”
She never would’ve thought about that; her cell phone was so old, she was sure it still used the old analog system if it still existed, but he didn’t need to know this. Was he into all the new electronic gizmos? And if he was, how did he afford the stuff? You would think he would invest in a new vehicle. She knew the latest models of cell phones were quite pricey, and it hadn’t been something she’d been willing to pay outrageous sums of money for because she had a phone that worked just fine, thank you very much. She did not need all the extras. She’d learned to live in a small space and on an even smaller budget all those years ago when she’d migrated from Texas to New York.
Taking a deep breath, hoping to clear the air of her idiocy, she said, “I was just on my way to the minimarket, and you’re welcome to ride with me.” She couldn’t come up with another intelligent word. She would have sworn he was looking her over in a . . . a seductive way?
Maybe the high altitude was getting to her?
Chapter 11
Focusing her attention on the road, Angelica did her best to ignore her passenger. He was charming, witty, and sexy as hell. She didn’t need his attention any more than he’d needed to make friends, but she wasn’t going to tell this to him, at least not now.
“So why aren’t you on the slopes?” Parker questioned. “I figured you’d be up with the chickens.”
She laughed. She hadn’t heard anyone use that expression since she was a kid in Texas. “My stomach is telling me it has issues to deal with. Like starvation.” Suddenly, her stomach growled, and she busted out laughing. She couldn’t help herself.
“I wish I would’ve known. I made pancakes, eggs, and sausage this morning. Had a ton of leftovers, too. Left a plate out for Leon, but he hadn’t touched it when I left. He’s peculiar.”
Was he trying to tell her something? That he’d cooked too much or that someone had cooked for him? Or was he simply making small talk? She wasn’t about to ask but hoped it wasn’t the latter—yet didn’t know why it would even matter to her as he was practically a stranger. But for some unknown reason, it did matter.
“Max filled the refrigerator with every kind of food imaginable. It’s been a while since I cooked a meal for myself. It’s harder to cook for one person than a crowd, don’t you agree?”
Again, Angelica wondered if there was an underlying meaning to his question. Was he asking her in a roundabout way if she was involved, or committed? Or was he simply making small talk until they reached the bottom of the mountain? It didn’t matter either way, she thought as she stepped hard on the brake, finding that the road practically nosedived for a few feet before leveling out. She was no more in the market for a relationship than he was. He could be married with ten children for all she knew.
“I don’t cook much. The theater usually orders takeout, so there’s really no need,” she explained.
“So you really are that actress from New York?”
Has he actually seen me in a play? Or maybe he recognized me as that piece of dirt in that floor-cleaning commercial currently airing!
“After you left the registration office last night, Nicholas—Mr. Star—told me you were an actress.”
He’d answered her question, and she hadn’t even had to ask. What a relief! It suddenly occurred to her that she’d felt a bit embarrassed when he’d asked her if she was an actress! Her entire career suddenly had the power to make her feel nothing but . . . shame? Did Meryl Streep and the late Elizabeth Taylor feel shame at their chosen careers? She doubted it. They were two of the greatest actresses of all time, in her opinion. She’d aspired for so many years to be just like them. Stage, film, television, she wanted it all, yet when a stranger asked her about her career, she found that she didn’t want to discuss her profession. As though she’d been struck by a bolt of lightning, Angelica had just answered the question she’d mentally asked, but she pushed it aside. It wasn’t the time to make a career choice or change. She was driving in snow and ice, and was just distracted.
“An actress with nothing to say,” Parker added. “That seems a bit unusual.”
“Like you, I’m not here to make friends or discuss my career.” She knew tha
t she sounded terribly juvenile, but she didn’t care. She’d just had an epiphany and did not want to deal with the significance behind it, or at least not with a stranger in the car. This trip down the mountain was becoming way more than a quick trip to the market.
“I guess I deserved that,” he said, turning away.
Lucky for her, she spied the turnoff for the registration building just then. She assumed that was where he wanted to be dropped off, so she found an empty spot close to the entrance and parked. Part of her felt a tiny bit of sadness and a sense of loss. She had never had these kinds of feelings about a stranger, and it bothered her. She wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or not. Most likely not.
She turned to face him. “So,” she said, struggling to fight her sudden confusion, “I guess you can use the phone in the office if you can’t get a signal on yours.” Angelica said the words quickly as she tried to still her rapidly beating heart.
Lame, lame, lame, she thought as she felt an unwanted warmth flow through her. This is not happening! What is wrong with me?
“I’m sure of it,” he agreed. Then he continued, “Are you going to be on the slopes later? Maybe we can meet at the lift.”
Unexpectedly, Angelica didn’t know what to say. One minute, he was telling her he wasn’t there to make friends; the next, he alluded to a possible relationship with someone—well, not really, but she wasn’t going to assume anything where this man was concerned—and now, he was asking her to meet him. Confused, and surprised at his change of heart, all she could manage was a quick nod.
“I take it that’s a yes,” Parker stated.
Again, she’d made an idiot out of herself. “I’d planned to ski all day anyway. If we see each other at the lifts, then sure, I can ride up with you, race you downhill.” She didn’t want to appear too anxious, but she didn’t want to brush him off, either. She kinda liked this guy she’d known for less than twenty-four hours.
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