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A Blazing Little Christmas(40)

By:Jacquie D'Alessandro & Joanne Rock & Kathleen O'Reilly


When they did, they stung.

“Since when would I allow myself to be taken advantage of?” Did she look like a woman who wasn’t in control of her own desires? Okay, not counting the way she allowed her family to maneuver her. And even then, she drew lines when necessary.

She stepped back, out of his reach.

“I didn’t mean—”

“Furthermore, if and when I let you take me, I can assure you it will only be to my advantage.” She stressed the last word, turning his phrase back on him as she spun on her heel and walked away.

For all of two steps. Before she remembered she had no idea where she was headed. She’d never possessed her mother’s flare for dramatic exits, but then, she had precious little practice since she preferred to run her life based on hard work instead of high emotions. Unfortunately her practical nature seemed to fly out the window around Jared.

“It’s the second cabin on the left.” He pointed the way, apparently guessing her dilemma. He already had her suitcase in hand and he held out his arm to her.

A nice enough offer since she would have fallen on her butt earlier if not for his quick reflexes. And decidedly strong arms, a mutinous voice in her head reminded her.

“Thank you.” She took his arm for the rest of the trek, hoping against hope she could pull herself together and stay focused for the weekend.

She didn’t come to Lake Placid just to see snow or escape the family resentment over her failed engagement. Her number one reason for this trip was to leave Jared Murphy naked and alone in his bed on Sunday morning so he would know how if felt to be abandoned and left wanting…

As they reached the cabin, Jared slipped the key card from her hands and used it to open the lock. Their arrival chased away her dark thoughts for the moment and she allowed herself to take in the charm and beauty of the place.

White clapboard siding made the cabin blend in with the snowy landscape, but the numerous windows were bracketed by black shutters and a small wreath with a red bow had been hung on each set of glass panes. The classic holiday decorations continued with a length of fresh greenery roped all around the entryway. Scented smoke puffed from nearby chimneys, lacing the snowy air with the smell of burning hickory or maybe pecan—something nutty and sweet. A six-foot toboggan rested against the cabin as if waiting for her to take it for a spin down one of the neighboring hills. Mountains, actually.

Peering over her shoulder she took in the pristine scenery once more. The inn property nestled on a mountainside as the faint smudge of sunlight sank deeper in the sky.

“Heather?” Jared held the door for her, waiting for her to enter the cabin and she experienced a twinge of guilt for her thoughts of sensual vengeance.

What if Jared had really gotten in touch with her to smooth over their past or make some kind of amends? He’d certainly chosen a charming setting and not some cheap interstate motel that smacked of a one-nighter.

“Sorry,” she murmured, too confused to sift through what this weekend together

might mean. For now she simply stepped into the cottage and out of the snow. “Wow. This is really wonderful.”

Tugging off Mr. Krause’s Santa hat, Heather peered around the cozy space with a practiced eye, enjoying the authentic touches to make the place look more like an Adirondack great camp.

“You like it?” Jared set her suitcase inside and pulled the door shut behind him before approaching the fireplace where a bundle of wood had already been laid.

“It’s so full of warmth and character.” She ran one hand along the rough-hewn boards that made the interior look like a log cabin.

At the far end of the room, Jared used a long stick of fat wood to light the fire inside a gray stone hearth. The living area furniture all faced the fireplace, the pieces just mismatched enough to make it look like a family homestead instead of a hotel. A pair of old skates hung on the wall, the silver blades polished to gleaming even though the leather was worn and cracked.

Framed pictures of Olympic events hung in a grouping near the entry while an antique game table sat to one side of the living room. The hallway that must lead to a bedroom was at the far end while the kitchen was situated on the opposite side, the appliances small and well-proportioned for the scale of the space. And although the gas range was antique-looking with cast-iron grills, Heather knew the model was modern.

“I’m glad you like it.” Jared stirred the pile of sticks with the poker until the flame he’d fanned began to steady.

“If I tossed a few pieces of fabric across the couch, this place could be an advertisement for The Attic.” She worked hard to incorporate this same kind of easy timelessness in her designs. An antique sensibility minus the fussiness.