Page 51

Her belly swooped and she braced herself on the back of chair again to keep herself upright. “Maybe?”

Another incline of his head. “I’m glad we cleared that up.”

She gave him a weak smile. “See, it’s good to talk.”

A low rumble of a laugh. “Clearly.”

“Right, well.” Her heart thumped so loudly, surely he could hear it. “I’ll see if I can book somewhere to skate.”

She scampered back to her room, set the coffee on the bedside table, and collapsed onto the bed. Her relief was short-lived, because when she searched the available ice-skating slots, the only one she could find was for this morning.

Damn it.

Muttering under her breath, she yanked her door open. And came face to face with Luke . . . or more accurately, her face bounced off Luke’s barrel of a chest. “Whoops.”

His hands came out to grip her shoulders, the flex of his fingers sending a jolt of awareness through her. When she glanced up and saw his Adam’s apple slide down his throat she knew calling it a connection was woefully inadequate.

“There are no spaces this afternoon,” he said hoarsely. “We need to go now.”

“Yes.” God, she sounded like she was doing a bad impression of Marilyn Monroe. “I was coming to tell you the same.”

He dropped his hands from her shoulders and walked wordlessly towards the door where he pushed a pair of shoes towards her, then grabbed her coat from the peg. The brown fake fur one.

“This okay?” When she nodded, he held it out for her to slip on, then shrugged on his own. “You’ve got gloves?”

She wanted to say yes, Dad, because he was being so efficiently organized, but too much sexual tension hummed between them and she worried it would sound like some kinky come on. Instead she dug them out of her pocket and made a big show of putting them on.

A little over thirty minutes later, they were striding towards Bryant Park. “Maybe we should have tried to book the Rockefeller rink,” she mumbled, still feeling unbalanced. “It’s more iconic.”

“But you said Bryant Park was your favorite.”

“It is, mainly because it has this whole winter village thing going on, with shops and a lodge that serves hot chocolate.”

He finally turned to look at her. “You’re really selling it.”

This was better. A normal conversation without talk of kissing. “Have you ever skated?”

“Do I look like someone who rushes to an ice-skating rink at the first sign of Christmas?”

“Colin skated.”

“Yeah, he would.” He kept his gaze straight ahead. “I suppose he skated with you.”

She grinned. “Yep. I’ve been with my friends, too. Not enough times to be good.” She smirked over at him. “But enough to be better than someone who hasn’t.”

He mumbled something that sounded like more torture. Then surprised her by reaching for her hand and clasping it in his.

“I’m not getting fresh,” he grunted as her heart did its usual jump whenever he touched her, despite two layers of gloves between them. “We’ll get there quicker if I give you a tow.”

“Right. Not hand holding. Dragging.”

He darted her an ironic smile. “I preferred my description.”

“It’s good you’re so excited to go skating.”

“Keen to get it done,” he corrected.

“Right, you want to head for the shops and the hot chocolate.”