was all she could think. But which way? Up seemed like the only answer. Her feet slipped. She fell forward, clawing at the snow with her hands, scrambling out of the way. The headlights blinded her. The car barreled at her. She righted herself and scrambled. Not enough time. She did the only thing she could do. She dove into a snowbank.
Cold shot through her entire body, like a tidal wave fueled by adrenaline. She took a sharp breath, her lungs filled with unbelievable iciness. Her throat tightened. She couldn’t breathe. Snow was everywhere. Like she’d jumped into the deepest part of the ocean and was surrounded by icebergs. She flailed about, all arms and legs, struggling to stand. She couldn’t get a foothold. There was no solid ground. Only snow to breathe and swallow. Did people drown in snowbanks? She was about to find out. Leave it to her to be the first person to accomplish such a feat. As she struggled with her arms, trying to push herself up, something grabbed her leg. Oh, God. A bear.
It was full-on panic—flailing, fighting and kicking. She screamed at the top of her lungs and managed to roll to her back. Whatever had her in its clutches was pulling on her now. She dug her hands into the snow, trying to stop her progress, but the beast was too strong for her. She couldn’t fight it off. She was going to get eaten by a bear. Now she wished she was back to drowning in the snow.
With a thump, her butt landed on hard ground. The bear let go. She kicked and screamed. A dark figure loomed over her. It was lit from behind. Wait a minute. If this was a bear, he had very nice shoulders and an awfully nice head of hair.
“Are you okay?” the figure asked, desperately. “Give me your hand.”
Joy was finally able to sit up, but she couldn’t stand. She was still gathering her wits. She stared at the figure. A man. It was a man. Behind him was a car. The car. The lights beamed across the road. The man in the car had pulled her out of the snowbank. It was all starting to come together. He crouched down in front of her, grasping her shoulder.
“Are you okay?” he asked again. “Are you hurt? Can you hear me?”
She wasn’t merely disoriented when her eyes were able to focus and he came into sharper view. For a second she thought she might be dead. Wow. He’s handsome. He’s like a fairy-tale prince. A real one, with thick dark hair that held a perfect wave. His eyes were icy blue. He even had a dimple in his chin.
That was it. She was dead.
The handsome prince dug in his pocket and pulled out a phone. “I’m calling an ambulance. You must be in shock.”
Joy instinctively grabbed his wrist. “No. No. I’m fine.” She took a deep breath and as the air fully filled her lungs, she realized she was not dead. Plus, her hand had landed on firm man. A real man. “I’m so sorry. I just... I didn’t know what to do and it was my first instinct to jump into the snow. I’m sure that seems crazy.”
“Do you think you’re okay to stand up?”
“Probably.” She nodded. As soon as she was on her feet, she saw that she had not been crazy to leap into the snow. The rear end of his car had stopped just shy of the bank. “Wow. I could have been hit.”
“I’m so sorry. I ran into a patch of ice and lost control of the car. Sometimes these precision vehicles do what you want them to and sometimes they don’t.” The handsome prince had a very deep voice, rich and authoritative. He was probably really good at telling people what to do. He was tall. And good God, now that she could see his face in its entirety, she couldn’t help but notice that he was unbearably handsome. He was all high cheekbones and full lips. A strong jaw and brow line. There was nothing soft about him. Everything was defined. He wore a black wool coat and black leather gloves. “Do you mind if I ask what in the world you were doing out here walking alongside the road in the dark?”
Oh, yeah. That. “Hiking.”
“Hiking? In those boots?” He pointed at her feet, which were clad in her brown leather boots with the chunky heel. They were surprisingly comfortable and made her butt look damn good in jeans. She didn’t wear them at work, though. She donned the chef’s clogs that were currently in her bag for the long hours on her feet.
“Yeah, I know. I guess I’m just a slave to fashion.” She tittered nervously.
He narrowed his focus on her, his eyebrows drawing together so tightly they nearly touched. “Okay. Well, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to finish your hike. Why don’t you let me drive you home?”
Home? Oh, no. That would never work. Her home was the Marshalls’ home and absolutely no one was supposed to know she was there. For all she knew, this guy was a friend of the Marshalls. They not only knew a lot of people, most people knew of them. “I’m fine. Really.” She waved him off.
He shook his head. “No way. You are not fine. You should see yourself right now. Your hair and your makeup.” He drew a circle in the air in front of her face. “Plus, I’m not entirely sure you didn’t hit your head. I’m driving you home. If my mother were still alive, she’d be horrified if she found out that I was anything less than a perfect gentleman.”
Oh, sure. Bring your dead mother into it. “No, really...”
“No. Really. I insist. Either that or I call an ambulance for you. You’re not walking home.”
Joy blew out a breath and knew it was time to relent. If they got to the top of the hill and he said a peep about the Marshalls, she’d have to come up with a quick excuse. In the meantime, at least with Prince Charming around, she was fairly sure she wasn’t in danger of being arrested. “Okay. Sure. That’d be nice.”
* * *
Alex stepped ahead of the mystery woman and opened the passenger door for her. “I can turn on the heated seat for you in a moment.” He took care when closing the door. He still wasn’t convinced she wasn’t in shock. He was certainly disoriented. One minute he was out for a drive, trying to blow off some work-related steam, and the next thing he knew, his car was sliding down a mountain and he nearly hit a woman. The scene that followed, the epic panic in the snowbank, was like something out of a movie. He could hardly believe what he’d witnessed.
He climbed inside and glanced over at her. She was using the visor mirror to wipe away the smudges of makeup beneath her eyes and smooth her hair.
“I wasn’t trying to say you needed to primp.”
“You were right. I’m a disaster.”
Even though her hair had looked like it had been through a tornado, he couldn’t imagine her ever looking bad. In the soft light coming from the mirror, only in profile, she still stole his breath. She was a classic beauty, like something out of an old Technicolor movie—creamy complexion, lively flush on her cheeks. Her now-tidier hair was long, rolling past her shoulders in gentle waves.
“If this is your version of a disaster, I’d love to see what you look like when you’re going out.”
She turned, sizing him up with her soulful brown eyes.
He reached out his hand. “Seems like introductions are in order. I’m Alex. Well, Alexander if you want the long version. Alexander Townsend.”
She swiped off her fluffy mitten and placed her hand in his. “Nice to meet you, Alexander Townsend, although if this is your way of picking up women, I suggest you get a new technique.”
Alex laughed. Beautiful and witty. It was his lucky day. “And your name?”
She flipped the visor up, tugging her mitten back on. “Joy.”
“Nice to meet you, Joy. Just Joy or is there more to it?”
“Baker.”
“You aren’t a Denver Baker, are you?”
“Excuse me?”
“The Denver Bakers. I’m very good friends with Patrick. He and I both graduated from Columbia the same year.” The look on her face said that she was not a member of the Baker family from Denver.