Page 4 of Mountain Security

She’d done her research on him, but that research hadn't included any details on the man's physical attributes. And there was clearly lots to say on the topic, since Alex Wright was six-foot-two of absolute hotness, with reddish-blond hair, deep blue eyes, a strong jaw and lips that seemed made for kissing. Or maybe—

Kissing?

Where the hell did that thought come from?

She prayed she hadn’t spoken the thought out loud. She sneaked a look at her boss, but he was busy staring at the menu, not at her. She forced herself to relax her shoulders.

“I wish I could eat one of everything,” Pierre told her, patting his light paunch ruefully. Yvette considered him thoughtfully. Her boss looked good for a fifty-five-year-old, but she knew staying fit wasn’t as easy for him now as it’d been in the past.

Although he wasn’t fat by any means—and in his profession, it behooved him to remain slim—Pierre Chevalier loved to eat. More specifically, he loved to eat what he referred to asgreat food.

He’d often told her he preferred to eat one delicious meal and then go hungry the rest of the day, than to spend all day munching on carrots and celery, as his wife, Vivienne, did. Yvette smiled. She liked Vivienne a lot.

There was a knock on the door, and the obsequious ma”tre d’ poked his head inside.

“Monsieur le Maire,” he said, loud enough for other patrons outside to be able to hear, before ushering Alex Wright inside and closing the door behind him.

Yvette sighed, reining in her impatience.

At least he closed the door.

“Ah, Mr. Wright,” the mayor said, smiling one of those broad smiles that only professional politicians seem to be able to pull at will. Yvette smiled as well, though her smile was more subdued.

“Mayor Chevalier,” the newcomer said, speaking in English but inclining his head in a quick sign of respect. “Please call me Alex.” His attention was on the mayor for now, which gave Yvette the chance to study him. Up close, he was taller and even more good-looking than she’d thought when she’d seen him through the window.

It wasn’t just his face, either. His body was also spectacular. Under the light blue shirt he was wearing, he had a swimmer’s shoulders. Her eyes moved further down to see slim hips and strong legs encased in a dark blue pair of jeans. Yvette had never before felt jealous of a pair of jeans before, but apparently there was a first time for everything.

“Then you must call me Pierre,” her boss said jovially. Yvette started in surprise. Her boss was always friendly, but rarelythisfriendly. Hell, she’d been working for him for two years before he finally asked her to call him by his first name.

“MademoiselleLegrand,” the newcomer added, turning his eyes to her. Eyes that were the darkest blue she’d ever seen.

The color of cobalt.

Yvette realized her mouth was hanging open, and closed it quickly, hoping he hadn’t noticed.

“Yvette,” she said quietly.

“Yvette,” the man repeated in his smooth British accent, and she knew it was ridiculous, because she’d been using this name for all her thirty years on earth, but the way he said it made it feel brand new.

3

* * *

Alex

Yvette.

Chamonix was a small town—not small enough for everyone to know each other’s name, not that Alex thought that actually happened in real life anyway, but small enough that most residents would have crossed each other’s path at one time or another.

Alex was pretty sure he’d remember if he’d ever laid eyes on Yvette Legrand before. She was, without a doubt, the most attractive woman he’d ever seen. She was tall for a woman—slim but strong, and not scared to showcase that strength, if the bright purple suit she was wearing was any indication.

Her smooth, unlined skin was the color of sun-kissed bronze. Her hair was pulled into a tight ponytail, but a few strands had escaped, allowing him to imagine what it would look like if it were let loose around her heart-shaped face. And her lips … God, those lips.

Her voice, when she finally spoke, was husky—huskier ever than it’d been when they’d spoken on the phone.

She was wearing black leather heels that were totally unsuitable for the weather outside—a broken ankle waiting to happen, if ever he’d seen one. And yet, all he could think about was what it would feel to kneel by her feet and take those heels off. He got a little hard just thinking about it.

He almost laughed out loud.

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