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Chapter Six

Mia had to hand it to Quinn. Everything at Whiteout Mountain was top-notch. Another one of his relatives—a snow-dusted young man by the name of Otto—brought in a massive box of what was clearly resort shop merchandise. To Mia’s eyes, that box was a veritable cornucopia of wonders. It included a bright red parka with the Whiteout Mountain logo on the left chest, a half dozen pairs of thick socks, underwear, yoga pants and hoodies also carrying the Whiteout Mountain logo, flannel pajamas, a robe and slippers, sweatpants, mittens, band-style ear-warmers and a slouchy knit ski beanie. She was also surprised to find a toiletry bag that had to have been packed by a female hand, as it contained everything a woman might need in an emergency.

There was so much, in fact, that Mia was torn between delight and horror that she was causing this family so much trouble right when they were getting ready to open a new business. Immediately she’d tried to give Quinn a credit card to pay for whatever bill she was racking up, but he told her, just as immediately, to put it the hell away and shut the fuck up.

Diplomacy. He’d probably never had the opportunity to look it up in the dictionary.

Come to find out, she valued his thoughtfulness far more than his diplomatic skills when it came time to getting ready for bed and she had warm pajamas and thick socks to crawl into. Night fell surprisingly early in the Montana mountains, and after making a simple dinner of potato and bacon soup and sandwiches for Quinn and herself, she’d soon discovered that her fatigue hadn’t been fully assuaged. After cleaning up the kitchen, she’d left Quinn to his own devices as she headed off to bed. He’d barely waved at her as he sat at the dining table, busily typing on a laptop while he talked with someone named Chip on speaker phone about helicopters, independent contractors and liability insurance.

The last thing she remembered as she drifted off to sleep was the faint, deep hum of Quinn’s masculine voice rumbling through the bedroom door. It was odd, how soothing that sound was. So soothing, in fact, that every muscle in her body relaxed as she sank into deep sleep.

Gray light filtered in through the floor-to-ceiling windows as she opened her eyes. A quick glance at the bed clock told her it was half past eight, and a sense of profound wellbeing slipped through her. Well-fed, cozy warm and fully rested. It was amazing how a few simple things like that made everything right in the world.

She bounded out of bed, made it up, then headed straight for the bathroom, clothes in hand. But at the bathroom’s threshold she paused, thunderstruck, as she stared out the windows. Yesterday there had been nothing to see—just pure, furious white that had made it seem like she’d somehow managed to land in the Arctic. But now the snow was falling more gently over a world that was blanketed in at least three feet of the white stuff. Evergreen trees she hadn’t even known were there covered much of the mountain and nearby terrain, their branches heavily laden with snow. She couldn’t quite see the mountain in its entirety thanks to the gray-white sky; the combination of snow and the low-hanging clouds smothered its top, but she could see a couple ski lifts cutting cleanly through the swath of trees, the land clear and white below them.

The sight of it made her want to break out her happy dance. At last, that bitch of a storm was easing. As soon as the roads were safe enough to navigate, she would be back on her way to Seattle.

And away from Whiteout Mountain.

Some of her enthusiasm dimmed as she showered and did her toilette, dried and braided her impossible hair, then dressed in jeans, thick socks and the snow boots that felt like a cushiony dream, a turtleneck and a white hoodie with the resort’s logo on the back. It really was a shame she didn’t have the time or the opportunity to explore this area, she thought, heading out into the silent chalet. She’d never been outside of Chicago, and the rugged mountainous country she was getting a glimpse of beyond the windows piqued her curiosity. She’d be the first to admit she wasn’t exactly adventurous. Navigating The Loop at rush hour was about as adventurous as she got. But the sight of all that wild mountain wilderness right outside her door called to her in ways she’d never experienced before.

She poked through the kitchen’s provisions and was pleased to find all the makings for what she wanted for breakfast—blueberry pancakes and bacon. Making a mental note to thank Olivia for stocking the kitchen so thoroughly, she got to work, getting the coffeemaker going as she went. She hummed “Winter Wonderland” to herself as she fried off the bacon, then set it in a slow oven to keep it warm before turning her attention to the pancakes, all the while wondering if Quinn even liked blueberry pancakes. She’d hold some plain batter back just in case he wasn’t a fan—

“Mm. Morning.”

“Good morn—” She broke off in shock as Quinn slid an arm around her waist and a chin rested heavily on her shoulder. He really was a touchy-feely kind of guy. “Uh, good morning.”

Mm-hm.” The pressure of his chin on her shoulder increased, and she chanced turning her head just enough to see his eyes were closed and he looked more asleep than awake. “Bacon. Smell it.”

Mia relaxed enough to grin. Too bad the act was completely lost on him, since his eyes were still closed. “I’ve got a nice, big plate of bacon keeping warm in the oven. You’re not a morning person, are you?”

“Mornings suck.”

“Even mornings that start out with coffee, bacon and blueberry pancakes?”

“Mm.” At last one eye cracked blearily open. “Food. Good.”

She had to laugh at his current inability to string together a complex sentence, and turned him bodily toward the dining area. “Go sit down and I’ll feed you. And don’t worry, I promise I won’t even attempt to talk to you until you’ve had at least one gigantic cup of coffee, if not more.”

“Perfect woman,” he muttered and stumbled his way out of the kitchen.

In short order she had steaming hot food and coffee on the table, then had to put the fork in his hand when he just sat there in a daze. It reminded her powerfully of when he had helped her feed herself at The Diner Bell. She’d been too out of it at the time to appreciate how intimate his actions had been, or to recognize that he wasn’t the kind of guy who let things like social niceties get in his way. After all, he’d known her less than twenty-four hours before he was telling her his opinion on her fiancée and how she ran her life.

And, of course, kissing her.

As relatively chaste as that kiss was, she still hadn’t gotten over it.

With her own coffee mug in hand, she slid into the chair beside him, the only seat left available to her that still had a nice view of the window. True to her word, she didn’t speak until he’d gotten most of his coffee down, along with half his pancakes and all the bacon. When she topped off his coffee and sat back down, he raised his mug to her in a quick salute. “Morning, Mia. How’d you sleep?”

“Ah, he’s awake.” With a wide smile she stirred another spoonful of sugar into her own coffee. “I had the best sleep I think I’ve had since I was a baby. You?”

“When I finally got to bed around one, I slept great.”

That made her smile vanish. Poor guy. “Why so late?”

“It takes one hell of a lot of man hours to get a project like a ski resort up and running. Right now my biggest challenge is to get a reputable helicopter service signed up to do heli-skiing packages to a high-country glacier we’ve managed to get exclusive rights to. Right now the biggest hiccup is who pays for the insurance—them, or us. And considering that this activity is the most extreme in the world of Alpine sports, insurance prices are a bitch.”

“I’ve seen people do that on TV,” she said after polishing off the last of her pancakes. “Looks very cool, but very scary. I can’t imagine being dropped off in the middle of nowhere to ski in places that can’t be reached by any other means.”

“But then you’ve never skied before. Unless there’s a mountain in Chicago I don’t know about?”

“Nope, no mountain and no alpine skiing. I did try waterskiing a few times back in high school and I wasn’t half-bad at it. I would think that snow skiing would be kind of like that.”

“It’s easier than waterskiing, which you’ll find out when I teach you the basics.”

That got her attention. “Wait, what?”

“Even if it doesn’t start to blizzard again, you’re still going to be here for a couple more days,” he said with a careless shrug, glancing out the window at the still-falling snow. “If I have time later on today, I’ll take you out to the beginner slopes. I’d be interested in having your feedback on it anyway—get your gut reaction to everything around you, from your surroundings to the rental equipment and so on. You’re kind of like a trial-run guest. Anything and everything that bugs you, I need to know about.”

“You mean like this dining table?”

His still-sleepy eyes widened. “What’s wrong with this table?”

“It’s a little big for this space, and you have the long side of it that puts peoples’ backs to the view, as well as putting someone in the hot seat—the chair that’s only a foot away from the fire. If that chair’s upholstery hasn’t already suffered some kind of heat damage—basically drying it out until the fabric splits—I’d be very surprised.”

He got up and ran a hand along the back of the chair in question. Then he grimaced, looked at the flakes of dried fabric that had come off on his palm, and set the chair aside.

“So you spotted that right away, huh?”

She shrugged. “That sort of thing is what I do for a living.”

“Is there anything else around here that hit you as wrong?”

Her eyes widened, horrified. “This place is perfect, Quinn. I’m not criticizing, really.”

“Your feedback isn’t criticism, Red, and I need it to be honest and on-target. What else have you spotted?”

“Nothing. I swear,” she added when he scowled at her. “You’ve done an excellent job in this chalet. You were right to say it’s like heaven on earth.”

“The chalet isn’t the entire resort, though.” He eyed her speculatively before nodding once. “That tears it. It was fate that diverted you here, so I’m going to take full advantage.”

“What does that mean?” Whatever it was, it didn’t sound good.

“It means I’m going to put your particular skill set to work. You’re exactly what I’ve been looking for, so I’m going to get everything I can out of you while I’ve got the chance.”

Quinn kept a firm hold on Mia’s mitten-covered hand the entire way to the main building, even though they were on a clear, heated pathway. She was such a fish out of water in his part of the world that he wouldn’t have been surprised if she somehow managed to get lost on this obvious path cutting like a black ribbon through three feet of snow. From the moment he’d spotted her, he’d had the feeling that she was lost, and that kind of thing usually wound up being deadly in his part of the world.

He’d heard her little coo of delight when she caught her first sight of the main building, and it made his chest expand with pride. Fashioned after Bavarian timber-framed architecture found all across the Alps, the steep, multi-peaked rooftops of the three-hundred room resort looked almost like a storybook castle. Every time he saw it, after years of planning and visualizing, it still gave him a rush.

“It’s funny, but I thought it would be a lot colder out there than it is, considering how the snow’s still coming down like crazy.” Ducking into the vestibule and drying her booted feet on the rough mat, Mia tucked her mittens into her jacket pockets and pulled off her cap. “This coat was almost too much to have on out there.”

“You’d be singing a different tune if you didn’t have solar-heated pathways and buildings around you to serve as wind breaks. Promise me you won’t underestimate the weather and go outside without covering up first.”

The look she shot him was drier than the Sahara. “I’m not a complete idiot, you know. I know this might be hard to believe, but we also happen to get winter in Chicago.”

Smartass
. “Yeah, I remember one of your fellow passengers mentioning something about how special Chicago snow was.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me.”

“That’s when I first noticed you.” He chuckled, helping her out of her jacket before moving through the interior sliding door and into the main lobby. “When that dumbass opened up his yap, you did the most epic facepalm I’ve ever seen. I actually heard it from where I was standing.”

“I wanted to hold up a sign that said ‘I’m Not With Him.’ I sincerely doubt there’s anything I could tell a Montanan about snow. Wind, maybe, but not snow.” She took her jacket from him, all the while looking around with bright interest. “Wow, this lobby is
gorgeous
. I’ve never seen anything like those tree trunks indoors. Oh my God, I’m in love.”

Any second now his chest was going to burst. “Glad you like it.”

“
Like
is way too tame a word. This is absolute heaven.” Still smiling, she looked around like a kid in a candy shop. “Where do I put my stuff?”

“I can take it and put it behind the front desk.”

“That might be something to think about.” She followed him to the wide counter with three terminals on display, currently unmanned, while the murmur of voices emanated from the office area behind the counter. “I know most of your guests will have rooms where they can dump their bulky outer gear, but what if they don’t want to go all the way to their rooms to do it? What if they’re just waiting to meet up with someone to have drinks or go to the restaurant for dinner? Wait,” she interrupted herself, her aquamarine eyes widening. “Does this place have a restaurant?”