Page 13 of Modern Romance Collection December 2024 Books 5-8

But he’d glimpsed the reckless girl, and he wasn’t about to let her shut that girl down again so easily.

‘Oh, yeah?’ he said, then scooped up a handful of snow, pressed it into a ball and lobbed it straight at her.

She ducked just before it hit her, but the shock on her face was worth the miss.

He laughed, while arming himself with another handful of snow.

‘What are you doing, Mr Lord?’ she declared, while working her boots out of her skis.

Clever girl.

He snapped his own boots free, then tossed the ball from hand to hand. ‘Declaring a snowball war,’ he said as he stalked towards her. ‘Fair warning, Belle, you call me Mr Lord again and you’re gonna be in big trouble.’

Her brows launched up her forehead as she retreated.

‘You wouldn’t dare...’ she gasped, but he could see exhilaration—alongside her astonishment.

‘Wanna bet?’

‘But I’m a queen,’ she said, falling backwards as she scrambled to get away. ‘I could have you arrested.’

‘I’ll take my chances...’ He fired the snowball, just as she turned and ducked again.

It sailed over her head. She jumped up and let out a triumphant hoot. ‘You missed me...’

The second ball hit her square in the neck, filling her mouth with snow.

She let out a shocked gasp.

He grinned as she raced to arm herself.

He continued to advance on her—scooping up snow as he went—his adrenaline pumping.

He didn’t care how much she loved the responsibilities of being a queen, everyone deserved a chance to cut loose occasionally. And seeing the mask of perfection slip was almost as much fun as beating her on the downhill.

They followed each other around the snowy clearing, snowballs exploding off the trees as they ducked and dived and shouted trying to gain an advantage. She was quicker than him in the cumbersome boots and had one hell of a throwing arm. But he was persistent and more willing to take the hits—which kept coming.

She landed pretty much every shot—but he kept advancing, ignoring the ice sliding down his neck, his frozen fingers or the snow coating his hair.

Finally, he had her cornered. Realising she was trapped, and all out of ammunition, she turned to make her getaway—a second too late.

‘Oh, no, you don’t...’ He charged, throwing himself at her. Wrapping his arms around her hips, he swung in mid-air to take the brunt of the fall. They crashed together into a drift, her shrieking and him laughing so hard he was surprised he didn’t bust a rib.

He lifted over her, pinned her wrists above her head, then shook his hair, until the snow landed in her face.

‘I win again,’ he declared, but he was still chuckling, while she was huffing and puffing and wiggling furiously under him.

‘You bastard!’ she announced—finally getting out the insult she’d wanted to call him earlier... Good to know a snowball fight could demolish all those years of stellar breeding in five minutes flat.

‘Belle, sweetheart, you’re only just figuring this out now...’ He laughed some more, enjoying the flush of outrage and the sheen of exhilaration in her eyes. Until she wriggled some more, and a surge of heat hit him.

She went still, they both did. Then her gaze dropped to his mouth, her lips opening. The soft sob she made was like a siren call to his senses.

The urge to capture those full lips again streaked through him—as intoxicating as it was ill-advised. But he’d never been a guy to ignore his instincts, or the clear invitation in a woman’s eyes. So, he lowered his head, ready to feast on her this time—until she tensed and murmured, ‘Mr Lord?’

He stopped, registering the shocked tone, and the panic in her eyes, alongside the awareness.

He let go of her wrists, rolled off her—and flopped onto his back.

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