Winter Kisses

He'd just been turning off the shower when he heard a female voice. To say he was surprised was an understatement. Per Renny's instructions, the guys all had separate flights but would meet at the cabin tonight to get their getaway rolling. He'd arrived first, a little overeager, he surmised. Feeling the fatigue of the last few weeks’ meetings, he'd come in and headed straight for a hot shower. To his knowledge this trip was only for the men.

Wrapping a towel around his waist he'd opened the door expecting maybe a housekeeper or some other resort employee to be in the cabin with questions or something. He'd never considered it would be her. Never in all his wildest imaginings thought he'd see her here.

But, he admitted eagerly, he wasn't regretting it at all.

Saying she was a vision in white would be corny. And Monica Lakefield was anything but. Beautiful didn't quite describe her, either—she seemed way too mature and regal for that word. But as she stood not three feet away from him, her face only momentarily wearing a look of utter shock before the cool chill slipped back into place, Alex knew he'd never seen another woman that affected him on this level.

This wasn't their first meeting. In fact, it was their fourth, and he'd have to say, as evidenced by the immediate heat simmering beneath his skin, the most enticing.

“Hello,” he said, mimicking the greeting he'd just heard through the bathroom door.

Her brown eyes darkened just a bit, something he'd seen happen whenever he was close to her. With her flawless makeup, ivory slacks and matching turtleneck sweater visible through the opening of her long white winter coat, she looked like a winter queen. No, Alex corrected himself, an Ice Queen.

“What are you doing here?” The smoky timbre of her voice floated through the hallway and he took a step closer. Sure, he knew he was indecent, clad only in a towel, which in a minute was going to show the reaction he had to her each time they were close. But Alex didn't care. He was that way with women, sure of himself and of their reaction to him. He didn't think that made him arrogant, more like confident. The look in Monica's eyes said she didn't agree. But that only egged him on.

“I could ask you the same question.”

Her gaze never faltered, never left his, even though he knew she was well aware of his state of dress, or lack thereof.

“But that would be repetitive and waste both our time,” she quipped.

He nodded. If there was one thing Alex loved it was an intelligent, confident black woman. The words seemed to personify Monica Lakefield.

“True. So I'll give in and answer your question. But you'll owe me.” She opened her mouth to say something, a smart retort no doubt, but Alex stopped her by speaking again. “I'm meeting my brothers up here for a few days. Now, your turn.”

“First, I don't owe you anything. Second, this is my cabin. I'm here on business.”

“You're doing business during the holidays? Do you ever take a break?” He knew that had to sound strange coming from him, but in the grand scheme of things, he had the feeling he was nowhere near as ambitious and dedicated to his job as Monica.

“What I do with my time is no concern of yours,” she said then took a deep breath.

It looked as if she had to force herself to let it out slowly. She was wound so tight she looked as if she'd explode in the next two seconds.

“Okay, just take a minute to calm down. I'm sure there's an explanation for this mix-up. Just let me get something on and we'll figure it out.”

“Don't bother. I'll figure it out,” she said then turned from him and walked toward the living room.

He'd bet she was heading for the phone, where she'd call her office to recheck the reservations, or to the front desk, where she'd interrogate the clerk as if he were a star witness in a murder investigation. For a second he thought about following her, trying to reason with her that it was probably just a mistake and nothing to get all huffy about. Then he thought better of that idea. Monica was not a woman to be calmed; that would only make her angrier. So he moved into the bedroom instead, taking his time slipping into jeans and a T-shirt.

When he emerged fully dressed and entered the living room, he wasn't at all surprised to see her pacing in front of the fireplace. Her dark hair was pulled back so tight he had a headache for her. One arm was at her side and the other was bent. A cell phone was in her hand, which she stared at, giving the device some choice words as she did.

He could stand here watching her for hours. She'd removed her coat so that he had a view of the formfitting sweater she wore and the perfect fit of the slacks. She was a tall woman, meeting him—at his six-foot-three-inch height—almost eye to eye with her heels on. Actually, they looked more like stilts and yet she moved gracefully with them, as if they, too, obeyed her every word.

“Any luck?” he asked when ogling her began to feel immature and obsessive.

“My phone's dead,” she hissed, tossing him a heated glare over her shoulder.

A heated but very alluring glare, he noted.

“Let me see,” he said, taking a step toward her and holding his hand out for the phone.

“You can't fix it,” she accused.

“I don't know, me and a team of three designers just configured a state-of-the-art phone that will take us into the next century. I think I can look at a BlackBerry and see what the problem is.”

With clenched teeth, she still hung tight to her cell phone. Until he reached over and, while one hand held hers with the phone in it, slowly peeled away one of her fingers at a time. He kept his gaze on hers the entire time because he sensed she liked to be in control, to keep what or who she deemed her enemy under close watch. When the phone was just sitting in the palm of her hand, Alex smiled and picked it up.

“I'm just going to look at the phone, Monica. Stop glaring at me like I'm going to ravage you.”

“I don't know why but you give the impression of being smarter than that,” she quipped.

Alex chuckled. This was more than a woman and more than a piece of work—she was one of those science fair projects that nobody signed up for because it looked too complicated and too hard to achieve any type of success.

Yes, she was definitely a challenge, and Alex loved a challenge.

Chapter 2

“It's dead,” he confirmed. “Did you get the battery wet?”

Monica sighed. Not only did she not want to be here in this winter-wonderland town, she didn't want to be here with him. Of all the men, in all the world, why Alex Bennett?

“I dropped it in the snow,” she admitted. “I can just use this phone.” Moving to the small table near the couch, she picked up the phone and put it to her ear. There was no dial tone so she pushed the on/off button once, twice, still no dial tone. “You've got to be kidding.” “What?” Alex asked from behind her. Very close behind her.

He always did that, invaded her space. No matter where she was when he was around he made it his business to be only two steps away. It was annoying in a way she didn't want to explore. What she wanted to do was get as far away from him as she possibly could.

“The phone's dead. What kind of shabby place is this that their phones don't even work? When I get back to New York I'm going to kill Karena.”

“I don't think the phone not working is any cause to kill your sister,” he said in that deep voice that she suspected soothed and caressed every woman he ever met. Every woman except her.

“Don't tell me how to handle my sister.”

“I wouldn't presume to tell you how to handle anyone, Monica.”

And she hated when he said her name, hated the tickle of excitement it produced along the nape of her neck.

“Maybe they just haven't switched on the service yet. I've only been here about an hour,” he said, putting a hand on her shoulder.

She put the phone down and stepped to the side, away from him and his all-too-knowing gaze. Another annoying thing he did was look at her that way. The way that said he knew exactly what she was thinking, how she was feeling. She hated it.

“Then I'll just get my things and head back to the main building. There has to be another room available since there seems to be some mix-up here.”

“You can take a breath, Monica. I'm not going to assault you.”

His tone held a bite to it that she'd heard before. Just as Alex Bennett always seemed to know what she was thinking, he also had a low tolerance for her. In fact, she wondered why he wasn't kicking her out the door. They obviously did not like each other.

“I didn't say you were going to assault me.”

“Right. You're just acting like you're stuck in a cabin with a career criminal.” He put the cell phone on the table. “Look, you just stay here. I'll go to the front desk and get another room.”