Chance Encounter

“Here, dammit.” His arms were as tanned and rugged as his face, and roped with strength. When he held out the jacket, she caught a glimpse of a small tattoo where his sleeve was stretched taut over his biceps.

Bad to the bone, she thought again. “I couldn’t.”

“Now you’re being stubborn.” He set the jacket on her shoulders, enveloping her in his lingering body heat and outdoorsy, very male scent. For a second, his hands skimmed over her shoulders, then he slipped them into the pockets of his jeans, legs spread wide on the ground, sure and confident in a way Ally reluctantly had to admire. He was everything she wanted to be, here in Wildland, U.S.A.

“A thin blouse isn’t the smartest thing to be wearing in the mountains,” he noted. “It could still snow. You’ll need to be more prepared.”

She wondered how prepared he’d be in her world. But the truth was, T. J. Chance looked pretty darn capable. Without a doubt, he’d fit in anywhere, he’d make sure of it.

And suddenly her newfound and not quite secure baby-new strength deserted her. For a terrible moment, it all seemed so completely overwhelming. The loss of her job, her apartment, her quiet, happy life…and now this too rugged, too masculine, too everything man was looking at her as if she was an idiot.

Well she was an idiot. She’d lost her job, her apartment. She’d lost her dignity and all self-confidence.

“Ah hell,” he said, going very still as he looked at her. “You’re not over there crying, are you?”

Ally got busy trying to suck it all up, trying to be the tough girl she wanted to be, but he looked so fierce with all that bad attitude blazing from his eyes, that the harder she tried, the more her eyes stung from the effort.

“Perfect.” He sounded so annoyed, that a laugh shot out of her, which had a tear escaping down her frozen cheek.

He pointed at her. “Stop it.”

Of course she couldn’t, and he slapped at his pockets, muttering beneath his breath as he thrust a napkin under her nose, reminding her of the incident with the professor.

His handkerchief had been soft cotton, laundered and pressed.

This napkin was rough and rumpled paper.

“Take it,” he demanded roughly. “Take it and knock off the waterworks. They don’t work on me.” Before she could take the proffered napkin, he grabbed her arm and led her through the terminal, stopping inside to once again shove the napkin at her. “Your nose is running.”

Perfect. She swiped at it and gave Mr. Rough and Tumble a sideways look. He seemed unraveled, and she found it…amusing. He was insensitive. In a hurry. He was edgy and quite likely to be horrible to work with. And tears scared him. It made her want to smile for some silly reason. She sniffed loudly, relieved to be on the edge of good humor again instead of the mortifying tears.

“I’ll go get the Jeep,” he told her. “You stay here and just…stay here.” He backed away as if she had the plague.

Odd how much better that made her feel, scaring the scariest of them all.

“I’ll be gone only a minute.” He narrowed his eyes. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

“Don’t worry.” She blew her nose again. “I’ve filled my stupid quota for the next few moments at least.”

He looked at her as if he thought maybe she’d lost her mind. And she most definitely had, because suddenly, she couldn’t wait to get started with the rest of her life. She zipped up his big, soft jacket and snuggled deep into the warmth. It smelled like citrus soap and one-hundred-percent man, and because it was so delicious, she inhaled deeply.

Then, because she felt good and ready, she also took his ride.

CITY GIRL GOT herself together quickly, a fact that made Chance most grateful. God, he really hated the feeling that came over him when a woman cried. Frustrated. Stupid. Guilty, though it couldn’t have possibly been his fault, not this time.

No way.

But there was no denying that Ally Wheeler reminded him of Tina. Though she’d been dead ten years now, just looking at Ally’s slender frame, at her obvious naiveté, was a sharp, very unwelcome reminder of his past.

What had Lucy been thinking, bringing this woman here? It had to be some sort of misguided family loyalty. He wondered if either of his own two older brothers would feel that same family loyalty if he needed something.

Yeah, he had to admit, they would. No matter that the three of them rarely saw eye to eye on anything, that they didn’t understand each other, they’d come through.

“Th-think we can have the heat on?”

He glanced at his temporary boss. She was huddled on the seat of his Jeep, her arms wrapped tight around her middle, her lips still a most interesting shade of blue, even as her chin was jutted up in the air. Hey maybe she’d get so cold she’d want to go home. He cheered up at the thought. “It’s warm enough in here,” he told her.

She leaned forward and turned on the heater herself, sighing with pleasure when the hot air hit her legs.

He shook his head and concentrated on the road. “You’ll hate winter.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t be here that long.” Her teeth were chattering. “N—not that it’s your concern.”

Only a woman could go from vulnerable to annoying so quickly. “Everything you do while you’re here is my concern.” Which rankled. The last thing he wanted was to be responsible for a lightweight who got cold in sixty-degree weather.

She looked at him with wide eyes the amazing color of a stormy gray sky, and it made him narrow his own, realizing he’d only given her a cursory glance before. Her hair, a wild honey-colored mess from the wind, lay in tangles around her face. Her curvy body was an asset, in spite of her habit of hunching her shoulders, as if she was trying to disappear.

She wasn’t his type. Nope, he liked a woman fast, earthy and as wild as the Wyoming landscape around him. Oh, and let’s not forget overtly sexual. Yeah, someone who enjoyed her body and knew how to use it. Antsy Ally was none of that.

“Why is that?” she asked.

Chance had lost track of the conversation. He leisurely ran his gaze back up to her eyes. “Why what?”

Irritation flickered, and she crossed her arms tightly over her breasts, which only amused him, because now they plumped up nicely, giving him an even better view.

“Why am I your concern?” she repeated.

What was it Lucy had demanded of him? Take good care of my Ally. Her safety and welfare are on your shoulders. Dammit. He promptly forgot about Ally’s breasts and remembered his irritation. “Everything and everyone at Sierra Peak is my concern,” he said curtly.

Her eyes went even wider. “You work at the resort?”

“I am the resort. I’m the mountain manager.”

A sound that was little more than a squeak escaped her before she cleared her throat and tried again. “What exactly does a mountain manager do?”

“Besides report to the GM?” He downshifted to take a tight mountain curve and shrugged. “Anything and everything. I lead treks, plan expeditions. Petition land trusts for more property. Blaze new trails to lure world-class athletes from all over the world.”

“All that?”

“I also set up all the competitive events.”

“Oh.”

“And both the ski patrol and our new biking patrol are under my command, as well as the rest of the staff.”

“So…you do it all.”

“Yup.”