Snowbound with Dr Delectable. Susan CarlisleЧитать онлайн книгу.
a few times a year. Being middle-class, blue-collar workers, his parents hadn’t been able to afford to follow the ski circuit.
The event had taken place in the US, making it easier for them to attend. He’d made arrangements with his sponsors to pay for their lodging. They’d driven an entire day just to get there. He’d been the one the bets had been on to take it all, and he’d wanted them to be there to see it. He hadn’t made a habit of believing his own press, but this time even he’d thought he had a chance.
He’d been almost through the run when he’d moved a fraction of an inch too far with one ski, and then he’d been in the fence. Where the crowd had been screaming, there had suddenly been nothing but quiet. His knee had taken the blunt of the stop. The EMT hadn’t properly secured his foot on the stretcher, even after one of the other techs had suggested he do so. His foot had fallen off the stretcher, and that had been the end of his glory days as a skier.
Those were times best forgotten. It was water under the bridge. His knee was his only worry now.
Kyle’s afternoon passed without incident on the beginner slope. He had to remind a couple of advanced skiers to slow down. He even had to threaten to take one loudmouth snowboarder’s lift ticket before Kyle got the point across that he meant business.
Most of the time he spent watching children who’d finished morning ski-school practice their newfound skills. Each made their way carefully down the slope with their knees forming a wedge to slow down. They came by him chanting, “Make a pizza.” If they wanted to go faster they’d make their skis go parallel to each other like “French fries”.
The newbies would make it to the lift area and get on the lift to make the circuit again with broad grins on their faces. He envied them. Those had been exciting days when he’d been learning to ski. He’d been told more than once that he was a natural.
Kyle noticed Baylie a number of times as she stood talking to one of the other patrol members. She must have seen him looking at her during one visit because she skied over.
“Everything going okay?” Her words were terse. Apparently she hadn’t recovered from their earlier discussion.
“Things have been calm,” he answered matter-of-factly.
“Good. Slopes close at four-thirty. Please make sure everyone is off the lift and headed in.” She said it evenly but her tone implied she was the boss.
“Sure.” Not liking the tension between them, he offered an olive branch. “Hey, I didn’t intend to offend you earlier.”
“Is that an apology?”
She certainly had no plans to meet him halfway.
A voice over the radio said, “Baylie, you’re needed at the clinic.”
Thankfully he didn’t have to answer her question. He still thought a doctor should be making the larger calls at the resort. In his case, if a sports-med doc had been made available, his skiing career might not have been ruined.
Putting the radio to her mouth, Baylie responded, “Ten-four.” To Kyle she said, “You can keep your jacket overnight. Be at the patrol office at eight a.m. Slope opens at nine.”
Kyle watched as she moved down the slope toward the courtesy-patrol building. There was grace in the subtle shift and sway of her hips as she skimmed across the snow.
He was usually attracted to the tall, willowy blonde types with the “help me” looks, but for some reason Baylie’s compact, agile body appealed to him. The ski pants did nothing to conceal her supple curves. In many ways she was a contradiction. Outside all mountain girl, fresh and natural, while on the inside hard as nails and unyielding. The paradox made him want to know more about her.
What he didn’t completely comprehend was her over-the-top reaction to the table crashing.
All Baylie planned to do was grab a pizza and head to her place to prop her feet up. The pizza parlor/bar was full of the young après-ski crowd looking for a night of fun. She stepped inside and unzipped her jacket. Despite the blast of heat that hit her, she left her jacket on. She’d only be a few minutes. Pushing her way through the throng toward the bar, she spoke to a number of people she knew. This was also the after-hours hangout for most of the courtesy patrol.
Moving around a group, her gaze met Kyle Campbell’s across the room. He sat on a deep cushioned couch next to the roaring fire in the stone fireplace, which had a huge Christmas wreath hanging above it. The place had a festive holiday feel. Beside Kyle sat Tiffani, with a look of hero worship on her face as if she was fascinated by his every word.
When they had been having their heated discussion earlier his blue eyes had turned stormy, as if he was remembering something extremely unpleasant. There seemed to be nothing rational about his negative reaction to her and her qualifications. She didn’t understand his attitude but it didn’t matter. What he thought didn’t matter.
She still held his gaze. Then with a jerk of her head she broke the connection and continued making her way to the bar. she ordered a pizza and stood against the wall out of the way to wait until it was ready. Regardless of the number of times she reminded herself that what was between Tiffani and Kyle was of no interest to her, she couldn’t resist glancing in their direction. Just as she did so, Tiffani threw her head back and laughed as if Kyle had said the funniest thing she’d ever heard. Baylie curled her lip. Well, she had a pretty good idea where their evening would end.
Was that disgust or jealousy? Disgust. Definitely disgust. She wasn’t interested in any man on any level and certainly not in some ego-inflated doctor.
Turning back to the bar, she saw her pizza was ready. She paid and grabbed the box. Again, she did the bend and weave that was required to make it back to the front door. As soon as she pushed through the doors the freezing air cut through the three layers of clothing covering her chest. She placed the pizza box on the closest park-style bench and zipped up her jacket. Behind her, the doors of the bar opened. She glanced back to see Kyle coming out.
Dressed in a dark blue heavy-knit sweater with a black all-weather coat pulled over it, well-worn jeans and snow boots, Kyle looked like he belonged in this setting. He bore the air of someone who frequented the slopes, instead of those weekend warriors who bought all new clothes and showed up to impress.
“Hi.” His breath was a white mist in the air.
“Hey,” she said as she picked up her pizza box.
“I hope your place isn’t far because that pizza’s going to be frozen if it’s out here long.”
“Then I guess I’d better go.” Baylie walked away.
She moved along the wide brick-filled pedestrian area lined with trendy shops and, above them, condos full of vacationers. Small white lights hung from the eaves and wreaths adorned the doors. This was a miniature Christmas village brought to life. Even the light poles were dressed with wreaths and red bows. She inhaled the crisp air, enjoying the sharp sting in her lungs.
She heard heavy footsteps behind her. Baylie glanced over her shoulder. Kyle was walking a few paces to the side and a few yards behind, his hands shoved into his pockets and his shoulders hunched against the wind. He’d already dumped on her occupation, and was he now stalking her?
She stopped and faced him. “What’re you doing?”
The muted yellow of the streetlamp played across his startled features. His chin lifted in question. “I’m walking over to the dorm. Why? Where did you think I was going?” He stepped closer but not into her personal space. “Stalking you?”
“I, uh, no.”
He looked at her squarely. “Yes, you did,” he said in a teasing tone.
“Maybe I did think you were following me.”
“I was, but just not with the intentions your mind was hatching.”
Baylie was grateful that the light wasn’t any better. Hopefully her guilt