“Here,” he said gruffly. “If you’re going to go out, you need warmer things.”

She turned and stared at the scarf and cap he held out and then reached for them, but he waved her hand off and looped the scarf around her neck himself, pulling her closer.

“You probably don’t even know how to put one on,” he muttered.

After wrapping the scarf around her neck, he arranged the cap over her curls and stepped back. She looked…damn cute.

Before he could do something idiotic, he turned and gestured toward the door. “Your snow awaits.”

Bryony walked into the small courtyard that adjoined the apartment building, surprised that it was empty. How could everyone just stay inside on such a beautiful day? As soon as one of the flakes landed on her nose, she turned her face up and laughed as more drifted onto her cheeks and clung to her lashes.

She held out her hands and turned in a circle. Oh, it was marvelous and so pretty. There was just a light dusting on the patio surface, but along the fence railing and the edges of the stone planters, there was enough accumulation for her to scoop into a ball.

She scraped her hands together until she had a sizeable amount of snow and then she turned to grin at Rafael. He regarded her warily and then held up his hand in warning.

“Don’t even think…”

Before he could finish, she let fly and he barely had time to blink before the snowball exploded in his face.

“…about it,” he finished as ice slid down his cheek.

He glared at her but she giggled and hastily formed another snowball.

“Oh, hell no,” Rafael growled.

As she turned to hurl it in his direction, a snowball hit the side of her face and melting ice slid down her neck, eliciting a shiver.

“I see you couldn’t resist,” she said with a smirk.

“Resist what?”

“Playing. But who could resist snow?”

He scowled. “I wasn’t playing. I was retaliating. Now come on. You’ve seen the snow. We should go back inside. It’s cold out here.”

“Well, duh. It is snowing,” she said. “It’s supposed to be cold.”

Ignoring his look of exasperation, she hurled another snowball. He ducked and she ran for cover when she saw the gleam in his eyes. She hastily formed another snowball then peered around one of the hedges in time to get smacked by his. Right between the eyes.

“For someone who doesn’t play in the snow, your snowball fighting is sure good,” she muttered.

She waited until he went for more snow and she nailed him right in the ass. He spun around, wiping at his expensive slacks—but who wore slacks to play in the snow for Pete’s sake?—and then lobbed another ball in her direction.

She easily dodged this one and nailed him with another on the shoulder.