skis, shouldering her bag as she gathered her purse and jacket.
“Sorry, the tour of my house will have to wait,” she said.
“Something to look forward to in the coming week. Perhaps Monday night.”
She laughed at his attempt to make plans with her for Monday even though they hadn’t even gone away for the weekend yet.
At the airport, they boarded a waiting jet that was far larger than she had expected. Its luxurious interior made her forget she was on board a plane for a few moments.
As they flew, Garrett sat facing her, their knees almost touching. It was difficult to keep her mind on the conversation because she was lost in looking at him. She still marveled at her reaction to him, alternating between enjoying it and being concerned by it. Remember, it’s just a fun weekend, she told herself.
Far sooner than she expected they were driving through the small Colorado resort town to Garrett’s condo.
His condo was built of stone with panoramic mountain views. Polished plank floors gleamed beneath high, open-beamed ceilings. Garrett built a roaring fire in the massive stone fireplace.
“What a change this is. It’s a picture book,” she said, looking out the window that covered almost the entire front wall.
Garrett stood behind her with his arms lightly around her. “We can hit the slopes or wait, if you prefer.”
“We came to ski. I vote to ski.”
“All right. I’ll meet you back here in twenty minutes.”
She went to the bedroom she had selected on the opposite end of the hall from Garrett’s, which had made him smile. She changed into her gear, finally gathering her parka, sunglasses and gloves. They spent the rest of the day on the slopes, discovering they were well-matched skiers. They returned as the sun was setting.
“When we’re changed, I’ll take you to my favorite restaurant,” Garrett said, stomping snow off his feet inside the entryway.
“Sounds good to me—I’m starving.”
“Meet you here in, what?”
“Give me thirty minutes,” she replied.
Certain he would be ready in far less time, she hurried. Thirty minutes later she made one last check. Her red wool pants and sweater were warm, as were her fur-lined boots. She let her hair go unpinned. With a toss of her head to get her long hair away from her face, she went to meet him.
As she entered the room, only one small lamp burned and she could see the view of the sparkling lights through the picture window. The view was spectacular with twinkling lights below spreading out toward the snow-covered mountains that glistened beneath a rising full moon. But when Garrett entered the room, she only had eyes for him. He wore a bulky sweater that emphasized his broad shoulders, tight jeans and Western boots. He stepped closer and his direct gaze held her. Desire shone in the smoky depths of his eyes.
“Now this is best of all,” he said. “You look beautiful. I love your hair down.” He wrapped his fingers in her hair and his arm circled her waist as he pulled her close. “This is perfect,” he whispered before he covered her mouth with his.
Ending their kiss, she tried to catch her breath, noticing that his breathing was as ragged as hers. Taking his cue from her, he stepped back.
“Shall we go?” he said in a husky voice while he caressed her nape.
He held her parka and she pulled on her gloves as they went downstairs to the car. During the ride she looked at the charming snow-covered town, but her thoughts tumbled over the excitement of being here with Garrett and the worry of how important he was becoming in her life.
At the restaurant they sat close to a blazing fire while piano music played softly. They ordered cups of steaming cider and hors d’oeuvres. Garrett had been famished when he finished dressing, but now his appetite had dwindled. He longed to hold Sophia, to kiss her. He ached to just touch her, to physically keep contact. Her hair fell loosely over her shoulders and around her face. Her luminous brown eyes were thickly lashed and captivating. And she looked happy.
Which made what he had to do even harder.
This withholding of information had gone on long enough. The closer they got, the more important it was to be honest with her. He had never been devious in his dealings before and he didn’t want to start now.
It was a miracle she hadn’t already discovered his connection with the Delaneys. But he was certain he would know when she had.
How he wished he didn’t have this big secret. If only he were free to pursue her honestly the way he wanted, in a manner he had never dreamed of before.
Candlelight on the table reflected in her dark eyes. Each day he had been amazed by how much he wanted to be with her. She was becoming more important to him by the minute. Which meant he needed to tell her.
“You’re an excellent skier,” she said.
“I was going to tell you the same.”
She smiled. “I think you held back to stay with me. It was invigorating, a real change from my regular life. You’ve turned my world topsy-turvy.”
And there it was—the perfect opening to tell her about the Delaneys.
But he couldn’t. He realized he didn’t want to tell her in public. He wanted to be alone with her. And he also realized that no matter how guilty he was feeling, he should wait until they returned to Houston. It would give him the weekend to get closer to her and hopefully create a stronger bond between them that would be harder for her to break.
A voice inside him told him that that was a cruel thing to do, but he ignored it.
He didn’t want to lose her. From the first moment he had seen her, he’d been drawn to her and the thought of losing her made his insides churn. He had never expected to find her fascinating, to want a relationship with her.
“Maybe you’ve turned mine topsy-turvy, too.”
“I seriously doubt that,” she said. “All of this is scrumptious,” she added, taking a bite of a mini-beef Wellington. I can see why this is your favorite restaurant.”
“Good—I’m so glad you like it. So tell me, do you go to your gallery every day?”
“Not at all. I have a competent manager and excellent staff. They run the business so I can stay at the studio and paint.”
“I don’t blame you. If I ever build furniture full-time, I’ll do the same.”
“Why do you stay in property management? With your talent for woodwork, you could build a following very quickly.”
“Blame my father for that one. I was raised to be in a productive, lucrative business. It was instilled in me as far back as I can remember.”
“But your father is gone now, and you’ve already proved yourself in that area. Your furniture would be productive and lucrative.”
“I’m wound up in obligations. Imagined or real, they are as much a part of me as my breathing. To Dad, who hasn’t been gone that long, my fascination with building was entertainment and silly.”
“Too bad,” she said, shaking her head. “What did your dad want for you in your personal life?”
“The usual. Marriage and kids. But I’ve watched too many people have miserable marriages, and I’m not ready to get tied down.”
“Tied down,” she repeated, smiling. “So no long relationships in your past?”
“None. And evidently, none in yours.”
“Absolutely not.”
When he had first met her, her answer would have pleased him—a woman who did not want any deep commitment. Why now did he feel jolted slightly