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“You want slow? The girl who does ninety downhill on her skis? Doesn’t he make you happy? Doesn’t he know how to use that booking system you bought?”
“He does? He’s a miracle. Are you…?”
“I’m leaving the answering machine on. And you’re going after him.”
Paris ran out and jumped into her Outback. What was she going to say? Was she about to make a fool of herself? Oh, who cared. She was heads over heels for that guy, and it didn’t matter if his name was Dan, Dom, Dominic, or even Damnyou!
She reversed out and took off fast. The roads had been ploughed, but only half way down the other side of the hill. Her car slipped on the slushy snow and Paris slowed. She kept driving. The snow was starting to fall again. Typical. After ten minutes, she saw him ahead. She would have missed him if he’d gone into town, but he was headed for the highway. Heart pounding, she pulled over and jumped out.
The snow plough had him crawling. She pounded on his window. “Dammit, Dom, I thought we’d shared something that was worth a shot! So what are you doing?”
He rolled down his window. “I’m going home. Where I belong.”
“In this snow? You aren’t leaving tonight. We need to talk.”
He stared at her, eyes wary.
Her pulse kicked up. She sucked in a breath. It was like being at the top of a black diamond run and looking down—you just had to go. “I love you, you idiot. I love that you came to get me when you hate hiking. I love that you decided you had to save me from Hamilton Marshall even though I’d already decided to throw his offer to buy the place in the trash can. And I love you no matter what your name is—but I really love you for booking the lodge solid.”
He glared at her then. “Oh, hell,” he muttered. Reaching out, he grabbed her face and kissed her. When he let her breath again, he grinned and then said, “I about lost my mind when I thought I might lose you. But I…Paris, can you really love a rich guy? I can get rid of the money if you want. It’s actually harder than you think to do that—money likes me and keeps finding its way to me. But I’ve already got Zach working on taking apart my last deal—I bought a town and now Zach’s setting it up as non-profit since he knows about that, and—”
“Are you going to talk business all night?”
“No. Please no.”
She grinned. “Follow me back.”
It was tough turning the Outback around—the ploughs hadn’t gone that wide yet. But she did it. Dominic followed in his car, staying close on her tail. At the lodge, she parked and waited for him in the lobby.
As soon as he stepped in, she pulled him close and kissed his lips, lingering over those lush lips of his. Leaning back, she asked, “You really are Dominic McCarthy, right? No more changes of identity. Can you even draw?”
“I can manage a straight line and that’s about it.” He wrapped his arms around her. “I’m a lot better with other things.”
Grinning, she grabbed his hands and started pulling him with her. “Where are you taking me?” he asked.
“To your happy place, Dominic. To your happy place.”
Chapter Eighteen
She pulled out the good Macallan she kept in her bedroom. Michael already had a fire going in the woodstove. Dominic stood in front of the hearth, blowing on his fingers.
She stripped her jacket off and held her arms. “Come over and get warm. That’s the least I can do for you.”
He stepped close to her and smiled. “I know a better way to warm up.” He stripped her as he kissed her, trailing touches and kisses over every spot he bared. She gave a low hum. When she was naked, she put a hand on her hip. “You’re wearing too much.”
“Oh yeah.” He stripped down just as fast, picked her up and carried her to the bed. Putting her down, he slipped under the covers next to her.
“What about the whisky?” she asked.
“I’ve got what I need right here, right now.” He covered her mouth with his. Pleasure surged through her and she wrapped her arms around him. A worry nagged at her and she pulled back and stared up at him. “Dominic—ah, I still can’t get used to that—uh, where are we going to live?”
He kissed her fingers. “Well, I thought here, unless—”
She grinned. “Really? You like it here?”
“Honey, I may even take up skiing. Or art. I’ll become a terrible artist.”
She giggled. “You don’t have to make that sacrifice.”
