loved how people knew him. Smiled, waved, stopped to speak to him as they walked. He introduced her to managers and housemaids, all with respect and deference. He treated everyone the same and she found that sexy as hell, too. She’d been raised by a man who believed in the perception of status. Walter would never have introduced a friend of his to a maid—but Christian was a different sort of man. The kind she’d been looking for before her life turned upside down.
Now, she had to wonder if part of her attraction for him wasn’t because he was the only familiar face around her. But no, even as she considered that, she put it aside. There was much more to what she was feeling for Christian Hanford.
“So what do you think?”
She looked up at him and loved how the wind had ruffled his short dark hair onto his forehead. She just managed to catch herself from reaching up and pushing it back. “Um,” she said, gathering up her scattered thoughts, “I hate to keep using the word amazing….”
He grinned, and her breath locked in her lungs. Seriously, when the man flashed an unguarded smile, he was a danger to any woman with eyes.
He pointed off in the distance. “The stables are down there, alongside a paddock, and there are riding trails through the woods. Tennis courts are over there and the golf course is back at the opposite end of the resort.”
She laughed to herself. “It’s like a little city all in itself.”
“Exactly how Don saw it, too,” Christian said. “We’ve even got a small clinic on site. Joel Remy runs it. He’s got a nurse who helps out and they can take care of any minor situations the guests might have. Of course, anything more serious is treated at the hospital in Aspen.”
“Our own medical staff. Wow.” She turned from him and stared out at the surrounding cabins and lodges.
“That’s the first time you’ve said ‘our’ about this place,” he commented. “Starting to feel more connected?”
She looked back at him. “I guess I am. It’s a little nerve-racking, but I’m excited about it, too, you know?”
“I do,” he said, then looked around as she had, as if he were seeing it for the first time through her eyes. Finally, he turned his gaze back on her. “You’ll make your place here, Erica.”
“Yeah,” she said, giving him a smile that lit up her eyes. “I will.”
He nodded as if he sensed her commitment, and said, “A long time ago, I decided to make this my place. To carve out my own slice of Jarrod Ridge.”
“Why? I mean, what drove you to want this?” She asked the question quietly, not wanting to disturb the intimacy of the moment. Despite the fact that they were surrounded on all sides by happy, chattering guests, it felt as though they were alone, just the two of them.
He smiled to himself and tucked his hands into his jeans pockets. “I told you I grew up here. Well, in Aspen.”
She nodded but didn’t say anything, encouraging him silently to continue.
“My first job was as a busboy in the main restaurant in the Manor.” He glanced back over his shoulder at the palatial mansion, its rose brick walls nearly radiant in the bold, summer sunshine. “I loved it. Well, not working in the restaurant, but being here. Being a part of it all.” He paused, as though he were gathering up stray thoughts and straightening them out. “My dad died when I was three. My mom worked constantly, but it was hard, you know?”
Erica nodded, caught up in the soft cadence of his words, the faraway look in his eyes.
“Anyway …” He took a long breath and released it again. “I knew what I wanted. I wanted to belong at a place like this. So I worked my ass off in school, got a scholarship and eventually, with Don’s help, went to law school.”
“Why did he help?” she asked, curious now about the father she would never know.
“To tell you the truth, I don’t really know,” he admitted with a half smile. “There was never any telling what Don would do or why. I like to think he saw something in me he thought would work well here. That he knew I’d do the job for him.”
“Sounds like that’s exactly what he thought,” she told him.
Christian sent her a glance. “Maybe. I’ll never know for sure. I do know that he helped shape me into the kind of lawyer I am. And I helped him reshape this place into the growth it’s enjoying now.”
“Then you did what you set out to do,” Erica said. “Made a place for yourself. Ensured that you belong here.”
“Yeah, I did. And I owed Don a lot—which,” he added wryly, “he never let me forget.”
“What’s that mean?” It didn’t sound good and by the look on his face, Christian wasn’t happy about whatever he was going to tell her.
“It means, that in my contract with the resort, Don laid it out just the way he wanted it. Hell, he even made sure the codicil was in his will, just in case I needed reminding.”
“What?” A curl of apprehension settled in the pit of her stomach. Erica had the distinct feeling she wasn’t going to like what he was about to say.
Christian locked his gaze with hers. “For me to keep my invested shares in Jarrod Ridge, I’m to remain loyal to the business.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad.”
“Then there’s the added warning to stay away from his daughters.”
“What?” Erica shook her head as if she hadn’t heard him right. “Say that again.”
Christian huffed out a breath. “He didn’t put it in those words, exactly, but the meaning’s clear enough. I might be a big-time, rich lawyer now, but Don still saw me as the poor kid looking for a chance. And he didn’t want that kid anywhere near his daughters. Either of them. Bottom line, Erica? You’re off-limits.”
“But that’s ridiculous,” Erica argued, astounded at this turn of events.
He shrugged. “That’s Don.”
“It’s medieval.” She took a step away from him, turned around and came right back. Looking up into his chocolate eyes, Erica felt that bone-deep hum she always did when she was around him. She knew he felt it, too. She could see desire in his eyes, feel heat rippling off him in thick waves. Erica looked up at him. “Why are you telling me this?”
“You know why,” he said and his eyes darkened even as his mouth tightened into a hard line. “Because there’s something between us.”
“So you want to stop it.”
“Didn’t say I wanted to,” he corrected with a shake of his head. “But this is my life. One I worked damn hard for.”
“That’s right,” she countered. “Your life. And mine. Don Jarrod has nothing to do with this.”
He snorted a laugh. “The fact that you can say that and mean it just goes to prove you didn’t know him.”
“No, I didn’t. But even if I had, I wouldn’t let him make my decisions for me,” she snapped. Anger shot through her and she let her words ride the wave of it. “I didn’t let Walter decide whether I’d move here or not. I won’t let Don decide who I become involved with or not.”
“You think I like this?” he asked, reaching out to grab hold of her shoulders. “Do you think I like dancing to Don’s tune? I don’t. It goes against everything that’s in me.”
“Then why?”
“My mom worked hard her whole life,”