Chance Encounter (6 page)

“Them? Or you?”

She lifted her chin, wondering why he always stirred so much emotion within her. “It’s one thing to risk injury because of an emergency, but there’s no emergency at the moment.”

“Oh, I don’t know…” He shot her an innocent look. “I had to buy a new summer wardrobe and—”

She turned her back on his wide grin. “You know what I meant.”

“I know,” he said, his mouth so close to her ear she shivered. His eyes darkened at that little involuntary gesture. “But if there ever comes a time when we have to evacuate an entire lift of terrified skiers or snow-boarders, any employee under my command needs to
know what they’re doing—blindfolded—bad weather or not.”

“
Your
command?” But when she turned to face him, he’d already moved away.

“Break,” he called.

The staff scattered at his welcome decree, every last one of them, including Brian. Ally went to leave as well, grateful not to have to admit she needed a breather too, if only to escape his all too consuming presence.

“Where are
you
going?”

She looked over at Chance, then wished she hadn’t. He’d moved close again. He didn’t seem bothered in the least by how wet he was. In fact, despite the water running off of his tall, muscled form, he seemed perfectly relaxed and in his element. A drop ran down his temple. Across his jaw. He’d removed his hat, and when he looked at her, when their gazes were locked, he sucked a raindrop off his lower lip.

Heat suffused her. Her skin felt too tight. Her tummy fluttered. It was irrational, it was stupid, but she wanted to run a finger over that wet jaw, wanted to lean close and lick a drop off his skin herself. She wanted to touch him, taste him. “You…called for break. Everyone left.”

“Yes, because everyone else knows how to get off a lift.”

“I just got off one.”

“No. You were evacuated. As in physically removed.”

“Oh.” She eyed the lift. It looked so easy now that
the thing was stopped. “Well, how difficult could it be?”

He laughed at her of course, he always laughed at her. He walked over to the control booth and turned the lift back on. The chairs started to move. Unclipping his radio from his belt, he brought it up to his mouth and told Jo they’d be right back, that he wanted Tim on radio for back up.

“Get on,” he said to Ally, gesturing with the radio still in his hand. “This is a beginner run, we can walk back down from the top.”

“We?”

“Yeah.” His body brushed hers when he walked past her.
“We.”

Her stomach tightened again, and not from fear this time.

T
HEY GOT ON TOGETHER
, though Ally did her best not to touch him. Chance did his best to make sure she had to, so that by the time they were settled, they were shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip and thigh to thigh. Everywhere they touched, he burned for more, and it really got his temper going. “Tired?” he asked, wanting to hear that she was, that she couldn’t wait to high-tail it home any second.

Nice guy that he was, he’d drive her back to the airport.

“Of course not.” Her knuckles were white from the grip she had on the steel chair. Her pupils were huge. She was clearly doing everything in her power to pretend she wasn’t high above the ground. Moving. “I
thought you were a wild, risk-taker kind of guy,” she said, looking resolutely ahead. “Why would you call Tim for backup when you can handle anything?”

“Because getting on a lift without anyone knowing would be stupid, especially if something went wrong.”

She swallowed hard. “Wrong?”

“Yeah.” He looked at her profile. So proud. So pretty. So petrified. “For instance, you could freak out on me.”

“I’m trying to keep my freaking to a minimum, thanks.” She continued to cling to the side of the chair, and he realized that some sick part of him wanted her to cling to
him.

“I talked to Lucy this morning,” Ally said shakily, then glanced at him. “She said she knew how much she was putting on you, and that she was very grateful.”

Well, damn. Add guilt to his current list of sins. Topping that list was lusting after city girl here.

The lift jerked and Ally quickly closed her eyes. “She said you’ve always been there for her.”

“And vice versa.”

She opened one eye, and when the lift remained smooth, then the other. “How did you get started here?”

“I was tired of wandering from place to place. Lucy hired me for ski patrol.”

“You were…just wandering the globe?”

“Yep.”

“You don’t have family?”

Damn, now she pitied him, the last emotion he required in a woman. “My parents traveled a lot back then. I ended up in Wyoming looking for trouble.” Tina had just died and he’d spent some lost months drinking and risking his life away. Lucy had given him what he’d never known he was missing, what he never would have allowed anyone to give him if he
had
known—stability.

He’d soaked it up.

Within two years he’d been running the ski patrol. Two more and he’d been in charge of the entire resort, second only to Lucy as general manger. In his opinion, he had the best job in the world, with a nice chunk of downtime every autumn, which he used to roam far and wide, just to get it out of his system.

Africa, South America, India, everywhere and anywhere he chose.

But he always came back,
always.

The lift dipped a little, and Ally drew a shaky breath. “You were good with Brian today,” she said quickly. “Even though you’re not exactly a compassionate, sensitive caretaker.”

“I’m not his caretaker. He just works here.”

“I suppose he paid for those new boots he’s wearing, the ones that have Sierra Peak Resort plastered on the sides?”

Chance watched her grip the chair with her fists when it jerked again. He watched her bite her lip, watched her breasts jiggle, her thighs press close together. He stared into her big, gray eyes and felt his body tighten. Specifically, his lower body. “So he needed new boots.”

“So you care in spite of—” She broke off when he put one arm along the back of the chair, the other across the front of her on her arm grip, effectively trapping her within his embrace. If he’d thought her eyes big before, they nearly popped out of her head now.
“What are you doing?”

“In spite of what?” he inquired softly.

“In spite of the fact—” She looked down at the ground, then paled again. “That I should just keep my thoughts to myself.”

“Oh no, you don’t.” He brought her chin around, which meant he had to touch her. Big mistake, but that didn’t stop him. Her skin was as smooth as silk.

She licked her lips, and gave away her inner most thoughts by darting a quick glance at his mouth before lifting her gaze to his. “I was just going to say…there’s a lot of similarities between Brian and yourself. It’s in the eyes.”

“Really.” Now
he
couldn’t stop looking at
her
mouth. White skin. Pink mouth. White and pink. He imagined she had white thighs and pink nipples, and nearly groaned. “And what would that similarity be?”

“Well…” She laughed a little. “You’re probably not going to like it.”

His eyes narrowed as he tried to keep track of the conversation while picturing her naked. Not an easy feat. “Try me.”

“I see a…dark neediness,” she whispered. “In both of you. An emptiness.” Her voice softened, so did her eyes. “You need someone to care about you, Chance, to look after you. And much as I wish otherwise, I promised myself I wouldn’t do that anymore.”

“You…” She’d actually done it, rendered him speechless. “You think I need taking care of?”

“Yes.”

Shock turned to genuine amusement, and he laughed so hard he nearly fell off the chair. “Look, Prim, I’ve been taking care of myself since I could talk. I don’t need anyone, I never have.” He sobered and thought of Tina. “Never will. Thanks for the laugh though, especially considering
you’re
the one who needs a keeper.”

She sputtered over that for a moment, until the lift jarred again, hard. It happened twice more, jerking them both, and scaring a gasp out of Ally. When it hiccuped for the forth time, she let out a sound of pure terror and threw herself at him, doing as he’d wished for only a moment before, clawing her way right into his lap.

He put his arms around her curvy body. If he hadn’t, she might have fallen out of the chair, but that’s not what he was thinking of as his hands slid up her slim spine. She fit against him as if she’d been made just for him. Her legs were entwined around his. Her rib cage felt small and fragile beneath his hands, but her heart was pounding powerfully enough. “Yeah,” he murmured. “
I’m
the needy one.” He’d meant to say it teasingly, but the feel of her, the warm, soft, womanly feel of her, overrode all brain activity, and his voice came out low, husky. Rough. He found his arms tightening around her, his mouth unbearably close to hers, and their gazes locked.

She whispered his name. It was an invitation, one he almost took. After all, he truly loved women, all of
them, and even though
this
woman was particularly irritating, and most definitely in his way, there was something about her. Not to mention she just happened to be in his arms, pliant and willing. But he wasn’t so far gone as to forget the problems that came along with her. First, she was going to drive him to the loony bin. Second, city girl or not, he seriously doubted she was made for the hot, passionate—and short—kind of relationship
he
was made for. No, despite the fact she thought she wanted wild, she really wanted the guy who had an office job, a regular nine-to-fiver, a man who’d give her a nice home, a minivan and at least two kids.

That was so far from his own life he shuddered.

But damn, she felt good. He closed his eyes and tried to recite the reasons this was a bad idea.

“Chance?”

Actually, if he was being honest—and he always was, at least with himself—he could really get used to the way she said his name, especially if she was naked and spread out for him in his bed…now
there
was an image, one that would stay with him for the rest of the day.

“Chance!”

Oh yeah…the way she said it made him hard as rock. “Hmm?”

“We’re at the top.” And while he was still stupid with the lusty images she’d planted in his head, she leaped down with surprising grace and walked away.

T
HE RESORT WAS HOPPING
,
even though it was off-season, and Ally was truly, overwhelmingly busy. She couldn’t believe the amount of paperwork it took to run the place. Or the phone calls. Not to mention the nonstop coming and going of various staff members, the planned activities and even the volume of food consumed on a daily basis.

The sheer size of it fascinated her. The immediate land around the cabins and lodges were owned by Lucy. But beyond that—the ski runs and trails, all the way to the summit, was leased.

And burned.

On Ally’s second week, the trails were finally useable. They’d spent hours and hours reseeding and planting, helping Mother Nature along. They were finally ready to open for summer season. When Chance made the announcement, everyone cheered, then celebrated with pizza. Ally drove a resort Jeep to the hospital, and Lucy got so excited she nearly fell out of her hospital bed. Then she sent Ally back to celebrate with everyone else.

With Lucy out of commission, it was Ally’s job to deal with most of the paperwork, which included insurance. Thanks to the fire, their insurance company
wanted to triple their premiums. Ally wasn’t a degreed accountant, but it didn’t take one to realize the truth—the cost was exorbitant.

When she tried to talk to Chance about it, he shook his head. “We’ll earn it back, don’t worry.”

“Don’t worry,” she repeated, never more reminded of their basic differences. While he was the wild rebel, she was only a wanna-be. “This isn’t small change we’re talking about. And it’s
annual.
Thanks to the fire, Lucy will have to pay this much
every
year.”

“You’re not looking at the big picture.” He’d just come in from outside, where the weather had turned unseasonably hot and windy. His hair was tousled, his face tanned, and if he’d shaved, it’d been several days. He wore a loose-fitting black tank top and hiking shorts that showed off beautifully sculptured legs. The clothes weren’t designer, they weren’t even close to new, but she couldn’t take her eyes off him.

Never before had she figured appearance an important part of a person, but she’d certainly never felt her mouth go dry and her tongue twist itself in knots over a man’s attire either. Not like now.

He was truly drop-dead gorgeous.

He caught her looking at him, or specifically at his shorts, and the most interesting way they outlined his every nuance and muscle. Clearly enjoying himself, he leaned backed against her desk and crossed his booted ankles in a casual pose. “Do I have toilet paper on my shoe?”

“Um…no.”

“Are my clothes on backwards?”

He wore the unconcerned expression of a man deeply confident enough not to care if he
was
sporting toilet paper. “No.”

“See? I told you I could take care of myself.” Then he grinned, and since for once he wasn’t laughing at her, the smile was totally disarming.

Trying not to give in and laugh, which is what she suddenly wanted to do, she stared at the paperwork spread out in front of her and saw none of it.

What was it about him that made her want to both smack and kiss him at the same time? She’d never had this problem before. Always she’d been able to withdraw into herself, even with Thomas,
especially
with Thomas. But somehow, some way, Chance drew her. “The big picture,” she repeated with effort. “Tell me.”

“This resort has made a name for itself because of our trails. We’ve just redone them, and added new ones. We’re acquiring more land from the land trust. We’re constructing new lift operations. And because of all that, I can lure athletes from all over the world.”

His sureness staggered her. Not because it was false, but because she was beginning to realize he could back up everything he said. For all purposes, it
was
his mountain, his trails, his reputation that made the place.

She wanted a fraction of that belief in her own abilities.

“Now I can do even more,” he told her. “Because of the new trails we opened, we can offer certain events,
televised
events, that will bring recognition. And more revenue.”

It was exciting, thrilling, and she felt her sense of adventure soar. She imagined herself involved, handling television crews and famous celebrities. “What can I do?”

“Absolutely nothing.”

“I’m general manager, remember?”

“You’re a walking catastrophe, is what you are.”

“I won’t get hurt.”

“I can bank on that since you’ll be right here in the office—”

“While you have all the fun? No way.”

He looked her over, starting at the hiking boots she was so proud of because they no longer gave her blisters, working his way upward past her walking shorts, past her blouse, though he lingered there long enough to have her nipples pressing against the material in response.

It was crazy, that just a look from him could do that to her.

A lazy, knowing smile curved his lips. “Are you looking for fun, Ally?”

His voice was soft, seductive, and his eyes half-closed and sleepy. Sex appeal oozed from his every pore and her body reacted. “On the mountain,” she said through her clenched jaw. “I’m looking for fun on the mountain.”

“You can’t handle the mountain.”

“Oh, for Pete’s sake! You act like you’ve never done anything reckless in your life! I’ve seen pictures of you skiing, you know.”

His eyes glittered at that, and pushing away from
her desk, he moved toward her, leaving her wavering between holding her ground and running. “You’ve never seen me in action,” he said softly.

No, she hadn’t, but she could imagine just how good his tall, rangy and oh-so-fit frame would look on the slopes, his long legs tearing up the snow as he worked his way effortlessly over the roughest terrain. “This isn’t about
you,
” she managed.

He stopped close enough to touch, but he didn’t. She looked up into his eyes. A mistake. They were dark, deep and full of heat. Oh man, he was something all charged up.

“No go.”

“No go?” she repeated, needing to press, needing to stir her anger so that she could keep her mind on track, instead of wanting to investigate such things as what his mouth might feel like on hers. “Why are you always so quick to dismiss me?”

He placed a finger against her lips. “This isn’t about the mountain.”

“It’s not?”

“It’s about you. And me. Don’t lie,” he said when she opened her mouth to do just that.

His gaze was intense.
Sexual.
And her breathing changed.

So did his. “No more games,” he whispered.

Undoubtedly, she could have ducked beneath his arm and lengthened the space between them. He wasn’t holding her, he wasn’t even touching her, though she could “feel” every single hot, powerful inch of him.

The silence stretched out. Neither of them moved, neither spoke, though Ally’s insides were screaming. He was so close, so warm, so big. The tension tightened within her, and it wasn’t an unpleasant tension, but something different, something undeniable.

“I’ve warned you about looking at me like that,” he said in a low voice.

“I know.” But she kept doing it.

“I won’t be your latest adventure, Ally.”

“Why not?”

He let out a rough laugh. “We’re too different.”

“That I noticed.” He wasn’t attracted to her. It was a sobering fact. She’d always wanted to feel the sexuality most women seemed to feel, and make a man feel it in return, but she hadn’t, not with Thomas, not with anyone. “I understand.” It wasn’t as if she’d had expectations—okay, maybe she had. But who wouldn’t? He was so beautiful, so uninhibited, so damn hot. “I don’t do it for you.”

“You don’t what?”

She looked up into his eyes. “You know, make you horny.”

“No?” Snagging her hips in his hands, he rocked them to his,
hard,
so that she couldn’t help but feel the long, heated bulge behind his zipper.

“Oh,” she whispered.

Their bodies brushed together again and every bit as affected by their nearness as she, he drew in a harsh breath.

Encouraged, she lifted a hand to stroke his jaw, because she’d been dying to do that all day.

Only he caught her fingers in his and stopped her. “Don’t.”

The word seemed torn from him. “Kiss me,” she whispered.

He stared at her. “This is a really bad idea, but for the life of me, I can’t remember why.”

“Good.”

“Remind me.”

“No way.” Then because he was holding her hand, and her other was wrapped around his neck, she tugged until she could slide her cheek along his. “Kiss me, Chance, come on, just one kiss.”

Another rough laugh rumbled in his chest, and he slid his fingers into her hair, lifting her face, looking into her gaze for a long moment before lowering his mouth to just the corner of hers. He dabbled there, then nibbled his way to the other corner, making a deep sound of pleasure at the taste of her. “Tell me no.”

“Yes.”

“Ally.”

Her insides melted at the sound of her name on his lips, then dissolved completely when he tilted her head to match up their mouths.

It should have been just one simple little kiss. Only there was nothing simple or little about it. Her senses revved, her legs weakened. Her heart soared, and she murmured his name, wanting more, so much more.

He complied, drawing one hand down her spine to her bottom, squeezing, pressing her even closer. His
other cupped the bare skin of her neck, his thumb stroking her jaw as his mouth teased and coaxed hers.

When he pulled back, she gripped his shirt in her fists and held on because the connection had become far more important than breathing.

“You said one kiss,” he reminded her, his eyes dark, his voice raspy and rough.

“I lied.”

A low moan escaped him, then he kissed her again, long and slow, wet and deep, taking his sweet time. This time when the kiss ended, they were both panting, and he rested his forehead against her brow. “You’re not what I planned on.”

“What did you plan on?”

“Not feeling as though you’ve blown into my life like a fist to the gut, that’s for damn sure.” His mouth was still wet from hers, and he looked hot and bothered.

That made two of them.

Only his brow was furrowed with intensity, his eyes filled with mysteries and secrets he had no intentions of sharing with her. And looking deep into his gaze, she knew the truth. She was going to be leaving here all too soon, and she’d done what she’d sworn not to do.

She’d gotten her poor heart involved.

T
WO DAYS LATER
Chance found himself filling in on mountain bike patrol. It was hard, hot work, and though he’d never had a problem with that, by the end of the afternoon, after warning oblivious first-timers
of the danger of leaving the trail, after chasing not so oblivious bikers who should have known better against the same thing, he longed to rip down the steep terrain, tearing up the dirt, wind flying in his face.

Longed to break all his own rules.

How he’d ended up with so many rules to begin with was beyond him. When he’d left home at age seventeen, his parents had welcomed his restlessness with pride, sending him off with smiles as he’d backpacked across the globe, getting into one scrape after another and loving every moment of it.

Until Tina.

After her death, he’d somehow landed in Wyoming, with twenty bucks and a tired spirit. The remoteness, the sheer vastness, the very wildness of the land called to him as nowhere else ever had.

Luckily for him, Lucy had taken one look, and had hired him on the spot. He’d been given a tremendous amount of freedom, coupled with all the thrill and adventure he could make for himself.

And he’d made plenty. He needed some now.

The minute the mountain closed to paying customers, the second he ripped off the vest that qualified him as an authority figure, he put his bike over his shoulder onto his back and climbed the mountain so he could go down his way—mind-blowingly fast. No responsibility. No Brian dogging him. No Ally blinking her big eyes at him.

Nothing but his own company.

Halfway up, the radio on his hip crackled. Damn, he should have turned it off.

“Hey, boss,” came Jo’s voice. “Lucy on line two. She wants to tell you not to break a leg.”

Chance smiled and kept going, his muscles straining, his breath coming in even pants, breaking a sweat for the first time all day.

“She also wants to know if you’ve been kissing Ally.”

He stopped short, nearly tripped over his own two feet.

“Don’t worry,” Jo said, laughing at his silence over the airwaves. “I told her City Girl wasn’t exactly your type.”

Which was absolutely true. He didn’t want her, certainly didn’t need her, no matter what she seemed to think. Just the idea she considered him needy at all really got to him.

She
was the needy one, dammit.

He hiked on, refusing to waste precious biking time thinking about it, or her. Or the kiss he could still feel on his mouth even now.

But one hundred yards later, he stopped at the unmistakable signs that he was being followed. Soon enough, Brian appeared, wearing a defiant look and carrying a bike that had seen better days.

Chance swore. “What are
you
doing?”

Brian’s chin went up a notch. “Same thing as you.”

“You’re checking out the terrain, making sure all the guests are down the mountain?”

Brian snorted. “That’s not what you’re doing.
You’re climbing up so you can rip down, fast as you want.”

Chance stared at him, then sighed. “Okay, fine. You caught me. Now go away.”

“I want to come with you. I want to learn all I need to know about this place.”

“Well, that sounds suspiciously responsible.”

“I’m not stupid.”

“And yet you’re a juvenile delinquent. Go figure.”

Brian’s face reddened. “I didn’t start the fire.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“I didn’t!”

Chance no longer knew what he thought on that score. Brian seemed genuinely indignant about the charge. On the one hand, if Brian
had
started the fire, he was being suitably punished. But if he hadn’t, as he continuously claimed, then Chance had been pretty rough on him.