“The long legs enable him to walk through deep snow. Moose are fine as long as you don’t get too close.”
“Do I look like I intend to get close? I’m trying to run, but you’re holding me. Let’s go.”
“No. This is all part of the Snow Crystal experience.” His voice warm with laughter, he slid his arm around her waist, locking her against him. “Lots of tourists come here hoping to see what you’re seeing now.”
What she was seeing was a strong jaw shadowed by dark stubble and a firm mouth that was too close for comfort.
Suddenly the moose didn’t feel as threatening as the chemistry. “With the benefit of many years of experience I can tell you that the moose is not going to be what gets you on the cover of Time magazine. Let’s go—”
“The important thing to remember is that there is no safe way to approach a moose.” He tightened his grip, holding her easily. She was pressed against the hard muscle of his thighs and it wasn’t the moose she was thinking about, but him.
“I can assure you I won’t be approaching it. In fact this might be a good time to show me your love of speed.”
“They’re not usually aggressive unless they’re frightened. It’s one of the reasons we tell people to keep their dogs on leads around here. During the mating season, in the fall, the bulls can become aggressive.”
“Note to self—never visit in October.” She tugged at her hand. “Now can we—”
“Kayla—” he tugged her back to him “—he’s not going to hurt you.”
The chemistry was suffocating. The knot in her tummy wound tighter and tighter.
“You don’t know what his intentions are toward me. He might sense I’m a city dweller and decide to send me back to New York with one kick.” She tried to joke. Tried to do anything she could to cut through the tension that was like a steel wire pulling her toward him. “I presume they kick?”
“Yes. Despite their size, moose are flexible. They can kick in all directions, including sideways.”
“Sounds like my yoga instructor. Can we go now?”
He smiled that slow, dangerous smile, his mouth just a breath away from hers. “Don’t you trust me to protect you?” He was all hard muscle and masculinity, and she no longer knew where the threat lay, but she had a feeling it wasn’t behind her.
“I’ve always preferred to be in charge of my own protection.” She felt weird, and she had no idea whether it was the proximity of the moose or the proximity of Jackson O’Neil. “I guard myself.”
“Yeah, I got that.” His voice was husky, his eyes on her mouth. “And what happens when you let your guard down, Kayla?”
“I don’t let my guard down. I don’t let people close.”
But he was close.
Too close.
And then his mouth wasn’t just close to hers it was on hers, sure and demanding, and his kiss felt as good as she’d known it would. Hunger ripped through her, the sexual chemistry so intense the heat threatened to burn right through them. It was the most erotic, sexually explicit kiss she’d ever experienced, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, lost in it.
“Christ, Kayla—” He groaned the words against her mouth, his voice thickened and rough. He had one hand locked in her hair and the other on her back, holding her hard against him. Pressed thigh to thigh, she was aware of hardness and heat, of the sensual stroke of his tongue against hers, and she grasped the front of his jacket, hauling him closer, wanting more, needing more. The sheer force of the chemistry shocked her because it was as sharp as it was unfamiliar.
She didn’t do this....
But she was doing it now, her mouth as hungry for his as his was for hers. Her gut tightened. Nothing mattered except his kiss, and the skill of that kiss turned her brain to slush and her limbs to water. Her surroundings faded, and her entire world became this man, his mouth, his hands and the desperate heat burning through her body.
They were creating enough heat to melt the frozen waterfall, and yet still she wanted more. She wanted to climb all over him, rip off his clothes, get to see those muscles without the clothes, she wanted to—
He powered her back against the nearest tree and she would have lost her balance had he not steadied both of them. She felt the roughness of the bark pressing through the thickness of her jacket. He rested one arm above her head, caging her, and still he kissed her, as if he couldn’t stop, couldn’t help himself, and she moaned his name because she couldn’t help herself, either. She fumbled with his jacket, pushed her hands inside and felt the hard swell of male muscle against her seeking fingers. The smell of pine mingled with the tantalizing scent of him. A shower of snow thudded onto her head from the branches above, but she barely registered the sudden cold because his fingers were on her zip, too, and when he cupped her breast she felt herself shiver. She moaned, twisted as the heat pooled low in her pelvis. She felt the skilled drag of his fingers over her nipple, the erotic slide of his tongue in her mouth and the only sounds were the pumping of blood in her head and the shallow rasp of their breathing.