“You say that as if you mean it.” Her voice was softer than usual, almost unsure. She didn’t usually display her vulnerability, which was probably why when she did it yanked at every nerve ending inside of my chest.

I inched closer to her, throwing my arm over the back of the love seat we sat on, facing one another.

“I do mean it.”

Frowning, she dropped her gaze down toward the floor before peering up at me, out of the corner of her eye. “Don’t try to woo me. I’m not Tracey or one of the other legions of women you’ve slept with.”

I lifted an eyebrow. “Legions? My reputation precedes me, huh?”

Her gaze shifted back to me.

“Listen princess, I don’t need to woo anyone. I damn sure don’t need to buy a woman’s interest by bringing her on a ski trip and ignoring all of my so-called friends. And I sure as hell don’t need to be scared shitless when I hear that woman has been injured while skiing just to get in her pants.” I moved closer, taking her chin between my thumb and forefinger. “So, you can drop the attitude, admit you like me as much as I like you, and we can get past all the pretense.”

Her pink lips parted on a tiny gasp and I seized the moment.

Inching forward, I trapped her lips in a kiss that cemented my words. I felt the shiver that ran through Deborah’s body and my cock instantly grew hard. I’d meant it when I said I didn’t need to work hard to get a woman, but I’ve also never felt this intensely about any woman. Especially one I hadn’t taken to bed yet.

Deborah’s soft lips opened, on a sigh, surrendering to the kiss, to me. That awareness made me hotter than I’d ever been. I moved closer, trying to remind myself that, despite the fact we were alone, we were still in a public space. I couldn’t take her right then and there. But dammit I wanted to.

I pulled back to tell her just that when I heard, “Isn’t this quite cozy?”

My eyes instantly narrowed as I twisted around to see Jack Lassiter staring down on us. He was accompanied by a few of our other friends who’d gone out on the slopes with him. However, he was the only one who felt it necessary to interrupt an obviously private moment.

“Can I fucking help you?” I growled.

“Me?” he questioned, pressing a hand to his chest. “The guys and I were just wondering where you’ve been, and then we come in here and low and behold.”

His tone immediately pissed me off. I stood up, getting closer, in his face. “Low and fucking behold,” I repeated, my voice low, fists at my side, clenching. I knew Jack to be a pompous son of a bitch. Hell, we all were, but something about the way he looked at Deborah, the tone of his voice and that stupid fucking smirk he wore as if he had a secret only he knew. All of it made me want to put my fist through his face, but I restrained myself.