Page 60 of The Last Resort
“Matthew is it now, not Mister Royal? Getting nice and cozy, are we? You know how those romance books about getting stuck in the snow with your handsome enemy always end up.” Kellie made a kissy noise down the phone then hung up.
Rachel sighed. She could imagine how Kellie and Dan would spend the rest of the evening, making up a whole new and very filthy story about two architects stuck in an old ski lodge.
Rachel and Matthew sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G
She chuckled as she pulled on her heavy boots. Her matchmaking relatives had no idea how close to the truth anything they came up with would be, or that she and Matthew had already skipped ahead in the book and were at the post-breakup stage.
But I did kiss him earlier, and it was fantastic.
And she had no idea what she was going to do about it.
Matthew was meant to be the villain of this story. If he stayed in character as the evil greedy developer, she could fight her desire for him. But every time she caught a glimpse of his hero’s cape, her resolve threatened to crumble.
Wandering into the kitchen, she found Matthew standing at the stove stirring a pot. It smelled delicious. “I thought I was supposed to cook tonight,” said Rachel.
He glanced up and gave her a cheeky grin. “I wanted you to enjoy your long shower and then have a hot meal waiting for you when you got out. I saw you had put some ingredients in a small stack in the cool room, so I took that as my cue.”
Rachel peered into the pot, and all but sighed. He was cooking Mexican chicken and vegetable rice, as she’d also planned, but Matthew’s meal was nothing like what she normally cooked. And the aroma was next level. “You shame me, Mister Royal.”
The way she said Mister Royal had Matthew’s lust cracking open an eye as it stirred from its slumber. What he heard wasn’t a hard “I hate you”,Mister Royal, it was more like a “please take me to bed”,Mister Royal, “and do with me as you please”.
I hope that’s what it means.
He pointed to the table, where he had set them both places for dinner along with an opened bottle of wine—their last. At some point they would have to venture back into town and hopefully dodge the wrath of the locals and stock up on their groceries.
“Would you like to pour us both a glass while I plate this up?”
She gave him a furtive look. “You aren’t trying to win my favor by cooking for me, are you?”
“Is it working?”
By all means necessarywas the mantra his body and soul were quietly chanting. He’d happily cook every day if it meant Rachel’s heart softened toward him.
“I’ll let you know after we’ve eaten.”
Matthew dished up the meal into two bowls then carried them over to the table. “It’s not looking good outside tonight. I went for a quick walk earlier and the clouds were low. The wind has also shifted. I wouldn’t be surprised if we got snow.”
Taking her bowl, Rachel nodded. “My sister rang just now to warn us that there is a snowstorm forecast for tonight. She said we should make sure our phones are charged, and we have flashlights handy just in case the power goes out.”
He’d already put his cell on charge and had his flashlight fully recharged. Sudden New York City winter power cuts had taught him to always be prepared. “Smart thinking from your sister. This place is spooky enough without having to try and find our way round in the dark.”
“Don’t worry, Matthew, I’ll protect you from the ghosts of the ski lodge. Can’t have them stealing away the best chef in the place.”
She dipped her spoon into her bowl, and after taking a bite, hummed her obvious approval of his cooking skills. Matthew picked up his glass of wine and silently congratulatedhimself. Slowly but surely, he was breaking down Rachel’s walls.
Now he had to finally win her heart.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
The threat of the incoming snowstorm posed a unique challenge. They could do the sensible thing, hunker down, and wait the storm out, or they could venture up to the roof and get a first-hand view of exactly where the weather got in. Rachel’s vote was for the latter. Matthew the risk-taking billionaire quickly agreed.
Matthew the accountant would have stayed with his spreadsheets.
“Okay, I’ll grab some flashlights. Do you have the Aspen weather app on your phone? We can monitor the snow as it comes in and be clear from the roof before the storm hits,” he said.
She didn’t, but as Matthew went to get some equipment, Rachel downloaded the app. Who knew that blue on the local weather map meant snow?
He reappeared carrying a camping lantern which he sat down on the table. Rachel made a mental note to sneak into his room at some point and check it out. Matthew seemed to have a near endless supply of useful things at his disposal.
