“I just said that to hear you make that sound. I’ll sleep on the floor. It’s fine.”

She exhales shakily, and nods. “I’m sorry,” she whispers, just before we reach the rest of her family.

* * *

That apology is still ringing in my ears an hour later when the perfect excuse for an early bedtime happens.

“Do you snowboard, Jake?” Nathan asks.

No, because I don’t have a death wish. “Is that on the agenda for tomorrow?”

Sienna shoots me a wary look. “We don’t have to.”

As long as I have known Sienna, she has been a willful wild child. A brat, I like to think fondly, late at night. My brat, I indulge in the dark, when my cock throbs and nobody is there to see how much I lust for my young assistant.

And when that lust whips to a painful fervour, I think of her as my little girl. My young secret.

But I’m never unaware that she is a whole person, a woman who knows her own mind.

And she never holds her tongue with me. Always makes her opinions known, even when I don’t ask for them.

She’s bold and strong and fearless.

Who is this uncertain child?

And what does she need from me to be more like her usual self?

“No, it sounds great. But I don’t have the appropriate gear. Can I rent it in the village, or…?”

“We have extra snowpants and jackets that will fit,” Sienna’s mother assures me. “And you can rent equipment at the hill.”

“Excellent.” I glance at my watch. “And if we’re going to do that, then we should turn in, shouldn’t we?”

She worries at her lip, but quickly nods. “Night everyone,” she says quickly, not making eye contact with anyone.

I follow her up the stairs to the room on the third floor, which I realize on closer inspection is clearly designed for a child. “Sienna, this room—”

“It’s ridiculous, I know.” She exhales loudly and shakes her hand at me, her fingers wiggling dismissively. “Don’t start.”

I smother a grin. That’s more like it. “I wouldn’t dream of starting.”

“They mean well.”

“They treat you like a child.”

“Yeah, well…to them, I was a child just a few years ago.” She grabs her bag and heads for the bathroom. “I’ll get changed and washed up first, okay?”

She doesn’t wait for me to accept the plan.

While she’s in there, I check my email. There are messages from my brother and sister concerned about my sudden change of plans. Instead of spending the week in San Diego with them, I’ve followed Sienna across the country and up a mountain, and I can’t tell them about this yet, because I don’t know how it will end.