LITMIR.BIZ

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look outside and see a dogsled. This all seemed so surreal it didn’t feel out of the realm of possibility.

      “My snowmobile.”

      “Of course,” she said faintly, quite sure now that she’d ended up in a parallel universe.

      “We won’t have any clients today. But the snow’s supposed to stop, and I’ve got to scout out a Christmas tree. You can come if you want—see more of the ranch. You could probably use the fresh air after being cooped up in a plane for the better part of two days.”

      Hope looked over at Blake. He was leaning, completely relaxed, against the kitchen counter. With Anna on one side and Blake’s long legs blocking the escape to the hall Hope felt utterly trapped.

      “I thought I was supposed to be taking pictures,” she replied, scrambling for an excuse. There was no way she was going to straddle a snowmobile and wrap her arms around Blake.

      “Bring your camera. I’ll take you up to the top of the ridge. The view from there is phenomenal. Mountains as far as you can see. They’ll be pretty now with the new snow.”

      “I don’t do landscapes,” she explained desperately.

      The two of them? Alone in the wilderness? Briefly it struck her how many shoots she’d been on with complete strangers. This was no big deal.

      Only it was. Because this didn’t feel exactly businesslike. And it was impossible it could be anything else. They didn’t even like each other, did they?

      “A picture’s a picture, right?

      He was undeterred, and she was feeling more irritated the longer the conversation went on. Anna proceeded to unload the dishwasher as if they weren’t even there. A picture was only a picture if you were an amateur. She kept away from nature photographs because she preferred to have control. Her photos were carefully set up, lighting adjusted, models just so. If there were variables she wanted to control them.

      But she wasn’t about to explain that to Blake any more than she’d try to tell him how to do his job. He’d probably find it supernaturally boring. Not many people understood her quest for perfection. Truthfully, she wasn’t sure she’d ever find it, but she still kept trying. It was a constant challenge and one she thrived on. Some days that challenge was what got her up in the morning. The possibility of perfection, out there waiting for her to make it happen. Something no one could ever take away from her.

      “I don’t think I have the right clothing.” She tried for a final excuse, knowing this would surely get her out of it. She’d research some hotels instead and book a room, so she could be gone once the roads were cleared. And she’d explain her reasons so he understood. Gram was just trying to look after her, but she was doing just fine looking after herself. She didn’t need to impose on his “Western hospitality” for the whole ten days.

      “I think we’ve got gear that’ll fit you,” he said. “Any more excuses?” He lifted an eyebrow in challenge. “You’re not afraid of a snowmobile, are you?”

      She really couldn’t come up with anything else. She thought about having to climb on the back of the snowmobile, wrapping her arms around his middle. She swallowed. She’d die before explaining about the whole physical proximity thing. It wasn’t that she was shy. It was more...

      She looked into his face. His eyes were focused on her in a way that made her heart flutter unexpectedly. This was the problem. In the small bit of time since her arrival there’d been an awareness she hadn’t either expected or wanted. The angry scar on his face added a sense of danger, and she tried to ignore it as best she could—and the dark feelings it evoked. But his size alone practically screamed masculinity and she wasn’t completely immune to that. It was the way he looked at her, the husky but firm tone of his voice that set her nerve endings on edge.

      Blake Nelson, for all his broodiness and imperfections, was exciting. It was the last thing she’d expected and it totally threw her off guard.

      And now he’d issued a challenge.

      She could do this. Besides, after two days of stale recirculated air on the plane she could use the crisp bite of the wind in her face, right?

      “I’m game. I guess,” she added. He didn’t need to know he’d tapped into her competitive streak.

      “I’m going to finish up a few things in the barn, so I’ll be back in about an hour, okay? Anna knows where the winter gear is. She’ll help you.”

      “Sure I will,” the woman answered from behind Hope.

      Hope smiled weakly. Well, if nothing else the ride with Blake would give her the chance to talk to him about switching accommodation.

      That was one argument she wouldn’t lose.

       CHAPTER THREE

      BLAKE handed over the helmet and watched as Hope put it on. He hid a smile, wondering if she was worried about messing her perfect hair. “Put down the visor when we start out. It’ll keep the wind and snow off your face,” he suggested, straddling the padded seat of the snowmobile.

      Anna had bundled Hope up in borrowed winter boots, ski pants and jacket, and a thick pair of gloves. She looked different. Approachable. He was enjoying seeing her out of her comfort zone. After last night, with her reading glasses on like armor and her laptop flashed up, he got the sense that her work was her shield.

      “Hop on,” he called, starting the machine, letting it idle for a few minutes. She slid on behind him, her legs cushioning his. He swallowed and for the first time wondered about the wisdom of the idea of disappearing into the foothills with her.

      Then she slid her arms around his ribs.

      Even through the thick material of their jackets the contact rippled through him. He scowled and set his teeth, rejecting the surprising whip of arousal. What was the point of being attracted to her? A woman like Hope would never be interested in a man like him. They never were. He and Hope came from different places. He kept his life simple, without frills and fancies. And she was a city girl through and through. A modern woman, independent and successful—not that there was a thing wrong with that.

      But nothing good would come of the two worlds colliding.

      He hit the throttle. “Hold on!” he called, and gave it a shot of gas, taking them up and over a snowbank before heading over the snowy field to the crest beyond.

      The zipper of her jacket seemed to dig into his back but he ignored it as they cruised over the undulating hills. The snow had stopped, only the odd errant flake drifting lazily down now to settle gently atop the pristine white blanket covering the meadow. In the summertime he wandered these hills on horseback to calm his mind. But in winter he used one of the snowmobiles that Anna kept at her place for her and John.

      He reached the crest of the ridge and slowed, coming to a stop by an outcropping of rock that sat oddly out of place in the middle of the land. He cut the engine, dismounting. It was his favorite place on the ranch when all was said and done.

      It was where he and Brad had come as boys. Identical twins, they’d done everything together. They’d made campfires and built a hooch in the shade of the rock, unrolling sleeping bags and spending the night with nature. They’d talked about hockey, talked about playing in the NHL someday, talked about the farm and, as they got a little older, girls.

      Now Blake usually came alone. Sometimes to remember. Sometimes to look down at the awesome view—the way the land dipped and then extended straight out to the mountains—and to realize that he was just one small part of the big world out there. It helped him put things in perspective after a bad day.

      He’d been surprised at himself for issuing the invitation to Hope. Perhaps it was that little glimpse of vulnerability that had prompted him to do it. And the knowledge that he felt the need for the wind on his face and it wouldn’t

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