LITMIR.BIZ

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the gates.

      She didn’t have to pretend to be anyone she wasn’t when she was here, and it had made the pressure inside her seep away. She couldn’t remember ever feeling this relaxed, without the weight of expectation and responsibility on her head. Being here, with Blake, had made her want things she hadn’t wanted in a very long time.

      The game wound up and she continued taking pictures. There was one she knew she was going to like—six huge male bodies, their backs to her, sitting on a log taking off their skates. Their voices mingled in the crisp air. And then she was sure one of them caught sight of her. She paused, her heart seizing, as he elbowed Blake and nodded in her direction.

      She didn’t need to zoom in to know that Blake’s gaze had found her. His teeth flashed as he smiled, and he picked up the bag that held his gear.

      Then he started walking toward her.

      His stride was long and purposeful and as he drew closer Hope could make out the impish smile on his face and...oh, yes. A glint in his eye. He dropped his bag and catcalls echoed out behind them. Intuition told her she was in trouble, and she hurried to zip her camera back into the vinyl case sitting on the snow beside her.

      “Taking pictures, are we?”

      His voice was deep and rich, and it sent tingles down her spine it was so delicious.

      She lifted her chin even as she continued walking backward. “Isn’t that my job?”

      Blake scooped up some snow, molded it in his hands, and kept walking.

      “Did you get everyone to sign a release?” he teased, his steps menacing as he drew closer.

      “D-don’t,” she stammered, stumbling backward and feeling the oddest temptation to burst out laughing.

      A snowball fight? Just when she thought she had him figured out he came up with another surprise. His sense of humor was definitely suited for children...

      “I mean it, Blake!” She would not engage in a silly snowball fight.

      The first snowball hit her in the arm.

      She bent down to grab her own snow and quickly pressed it into a ball—she had to defend herself, after all!

      “Blake...”

      He had more snow in his hand. She drew back and let her snowball fly, needing the distraction so she could get away. The ball just grazed the top of his head and he laughed, letting go with another and hitting her square in the chest. A clump of thick snow clung to her zipper. She stared at it for a millisecond before throwing another, missing him completely. As she bent for more snow he ran through the white fluff and captured her, circling her with his arms before she could throw the next one.

      She struggled against his embrace, losing the battle against laughter. “Let me go, you big goon!” she gasped, throwing out her elbows. But it was no use. He was laughing, too, and not even close to letting her go.

      “You show ’er, Blake!” came a call from behind them.

      Hope’s mind raced, searching for a strategy to get free.

      She looped one foot around the back of his boot, stopped struggling long enough to place her hands on his chest—and shoved.

      Blake toppled over like a felled tree, just as she’d planned. But he grabbed her jacket and pulled her over with him—not what she’d planned at all.

      They hit the ground in a mass of tangled legs and arms, with Hope most definitely sprawled on top of him in a most undignified manner, her face inches from his as the other hockey players let out whoops and cries.

      Time seemed to hold still for several seconds as she looked down into his eyes. “Blake...” she warned, but it only added fuel to the fire.

      “I’m sorry, Hope,” he murmured. “I can’t help it.” And then he lifted his right hand, cupped the back of her hat, and pulled her head down until he was kissing her.

      His lips and nose were cold, but his mouth was warm as he held her head in place. She knew she shouldn’t—not after the other day, not after she’d decided there’d be no more flirting or intimate moments. But she couldn’t resist his kiss and she let herself go, let herself enjoy the feel and taste of him. She reveled in the sound of his breath in the winter stillness, loved how the kiss teased and played.

      He shifted his weight and suddenly she found herself beneath him, pressed into snow that was sharp and cold and yet somehow insulating.

      “I’ve wanted to do that since the other day,” he murmured. “Told myself I wouldn’t. You make it hard on a man, Hope McKinnon.”

      He wasn’t kissing her now. He was just looking at her, and she was looking at him. She couldn’t seem to stop gazing into his eyes. And just when she wondered if he was going to let her up, he lowered his head again and made her go all soft and swoony by using his lips in a very effective manner. She didn’t stop him. It felt too perfect, too wonderful. The flame inside her that he seemed to kindle so easily flickered to life. When he looked at her this way, kissed her this way, she felt alive. Beautiful. Cherished. Like anything was possible.

      She was dimly aware of the sound of vehicle doors slamming, engines starting and trucks disappearing, and still they went on kissing. Soft kisses, light kisses, deep and passionate kisses. His body was heavy and warm as it pressed against her and she shifted the tiniest bit. Blake groaned into her mouth and a surge of feminine power raced through her veins.

      She and Blake could take this inside. It would take very little convincing to move this to a warmer location with fewer clothes.

      And it would be spectacular. She knew that instinctively.

      Everywhere he was touching her now—even through clothing—felt like it was on fire. Blake would be gentle and thorough and intense. The blaze of desire flared inside her. All it would take was the right word.

      The right word and he could be hers.

      But was that really what she wanted? For the next hour, yes. Absolutely. His lips touched her neck and she struggled to breathe. But what about after that?

      It always came back to the same thing. She stilled beneath him and he lifted his head. He was so beautiful, she realized, scar or not. It was more than that. It was how the man inside shone through his eyes and the set of his jaw. She blinked against the moisture that gathered in the corners of her eyes. She cared too much. It wasn’t love—it couldn’t be and she knew that. But there was a connection between the two of them—perhaps there had been from the moment he’d offered her his hand when she’d fallen on the ice. He’d broken through the wall she normally kept around her heart like it had never even been there.

      And she hadn’t seen him coming.

      His gaze deepened and he kissed each eyelid with such tenderness she thought she might fall apart right there in his arms.

      “What is it?” he murmured the words in the silence. “Tell me, Hope.”

      How could she explain it without making herself even more vulnerable? “I can’t do this,” she whispered.

      His eyes smiled down at her. “We can move it inside. I’m pretty sure Anna’s gone home by now.”

      “That’s not what I meant,” she began.

      The gaze that had been gently teasing before now sharpened hungrily. “I want to be with you,” he answered. “Really be with you. Even if it’s just this one time. I’ve never met anyone like you.”

      Oh, glory. If only he knew how much she wanted to say yes. He wasn’t making it any easier. But then nothing was easy with Blake.

      In the end, her need for self-preservation won out.

      “It would be a mistake. We’d both regret it, Blake.” She bit down on her lip, because even as she said it she was thinking about kissing him again.

      Her legs and

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