Sarah Morgan

Snow Crystal Trilogy: Sleigh Bells in the Snow / Suddenly Last Summer / Maybe This Christmas


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Élise was talking. “Where did you find her?”

      “In Paris. She was cooking in a tiny restaurant on the Left Bank.” He hesitated, as if about to add something, but then smiled. “Luckily for me it didn’t work out for her so I gave her a job. She cooked for me in one of my hotels in Switzerland and then joined me here six months ago. She’s a genius in the kitchen and very professional. You might not guess it, but she was upset tonight. You can always tell how upset Élise is by how French she sounds. In the right mood, her accent is virtually undetectable.” He reached for his glass. “Bringing her in was the right thing to do, but it’s shaken up a few people.”

      “I don’t see you as a man who would have a problem shaking people up if there was a purpose to it.”

      His gaze held hers. “Then you’d be right.”

      Even in this moment of tension, the chemistry was still there.

      She felt it, pulsing between them, and she knew he did, too.

      “Darren didn’t look too pleased.”

      “His ego is bigger than his talent. And he and Élise don’t share the same vision for the restaurant. His objective is to feed people. Hers is to serve a meal you will always remember. That’s what I want for this place.” He sounded sure. “I want people going back to New York, or Boston or wherever it is they’ve come from and I want them talking about the Inn at Snow Crystal. I want them planning their next visit and sending their friends.”

      Kayla watched him across the table, thinking that he was as comfortable in these elegant surroundings as he was in the wild outdoors.

      He’d chosen to wear a jacket and tie but those outward trappings of sophistication did nothing to disguise the strength and power of those shoulders. Did nothing to detract from that raw masculinity that was part of him.

      “Will your grandfather be upset about losing Darren?”

      “Probably. He wants me to go back to Switzerland and stop meddling.” He seemed relaxed, but she knew he had to be feeling the pressure. The future of this place, the future of his family, rested on his shoulders.

      She wondered how he coped with it. Just one meeting with Walter had been enough to send her running. The fact that the reasons for that had been personal didn’t change the fact that Walter had been difficult, abrasive and combative.

      It didn’t make sense to her. “Without you, Snow Crystal would definitely go under. Surely he’s pleased you’re back to help.”

      “He’s not pleased.”

      “Why? It isn’t as if you’re inexperienced. You have an impressive track record. I would have thought he would have been relieved to hand it all over to you.”

      He stared into his glass and then gave a humorless laugh. “I guess to understand that, you have to understand what this place means to my grandfather. His father, my great-grandfather, built Snow Crystal. Met my great-grandmother on a ski slope, and they decided that was what they wanted to do. And it was a tough life. They built it from nothing. Walter was born right here, in the house. Lived here all his life.”

      “Which should mean he wants to protect it.”

      “I guess it’s hard to hand something over that means as much as this place means to him. He wants it to stay as it was. He resents the changes I make.”

      “But you’re here anyway.”

      “They need me.”

      And that, she thought, said everything about him. He was a man who believed in family, and stuck by them even when things were difficult.

      Something tightened in the pit of her stomach. “There’s no way he can argue that what you’ve done here isn’t a good thing.” Glancing to her right, she saw elegance, polished silver and a room full of happy diners.

      “I expect he credits Darren.” Jackson picked up his wineglass. “If you hear an explosion tomorrow, it won’t be avalanche blasting. And I am going to have to find more staff for the kitchen because, no matter what Élise says, she can’t manage the holiday season on her own.”

      Kayla thought about Elizabeth, trying to fill the gap in her life with cooking. “Could your mother help? She obviously loves feeding people.”

      Jackson lowered his glass. “That,” he said slowly, “is a great idea.”

      “Maybe she wouldn’t like working with Élise.”

      “She loves Élise. They talk recipes all the time. Élise is always popping over there to sample whatever my mother has in the oven. And you’re right—feeding people keeps her happy. Cooking relaxes her, which is why your idea is such a good one. She needs something new to focus on. I’ll talk to them both tomorrow.” He sat back as lobster ravioli was placed in front of them, and Kayla noticed how much attention Tally paid Jackson.

      “Some people are pleased you’re here.” She waited until the girl had walked away to make the observation, and Jackson smiled.

      “That will be the people who are terrified of Walter. And maybe the people who can do basic math and understand that this place needs paying guests.” He played it down but Kayla had already seen enough to know the staff worshipped Jackson. She suspected it wasn’t just because he was the one standing between them and unemployment.

      She picked up her fork and looked at her plate. “This looks amazing.”

      “Élise insists on using as many fresh, local ingredients as possible, and she changes the menu on the fly depending on what’s available.” He waited while she took a mouthful. “Is it good?”

      “It’s sublime—” She closed her eyes as flavor exploded on her tongue, and when she opened them again he was watching her, lids half-lowered in a way that took her right back to that moment in the forest.

      “Jackson—”

      “You must eat out all the time in New York.” His voice was level and steady, as if they hadn’t just generated enough heat to light the candle in the center of the table without the use of a naked flame.

      Kayla relaxed slightly. If he could ignore it then she could ignore it, too.

      “I’m usually paying attention to the client, not the food.” She took another mouthful, wondering why this felt more like a date than a dinner meeting. “So Élise is your star?”

      “Not my only star. We’re building up a good team here. Brenna is awesome. Not just a talented skier, but a gifted teacher. She’s a PSIA level 3 coach.”

      “PSIA?”

      “Professional Ski Instructors of America. Level 3 is the most advanced qualification. Brenna grew up here, but she spent four years working with me in Switzerland and another two in Jackson Hole, so she’s an experienced and gifted teacher. She can teach anything from a three-year-old who can’t stand on skis to a teenager who wants to ski deep powder. Now Tyler is back, he is going to help her. Were your earrings a gift from a lover?”

      The shift from professional to personal gave her whiplash. “I bought them for myself when I got my last promotion.”

      “A woman who buys diamonds for herself.” He reached for his wine. “I wonder what that says about her.”

      “It says she knows what she wants and doesn’t wait around for someone else to buy it for her.”

      “You got something against a man buying you gifts, Kayla?”

      “Not in principle.” She stabbed her fork into another delicious mouthful. “But in practice a man buying a woman gifts usually means they’re in some sort of relationship, and I don’t do relationships.”

      “Relationship is a broad term. Covers a lot of possibilities.”

      “Mmm—” she chewed “—and I’m equally bad at all of them. How is your langoustine?”