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blue depths, and then he gave her a slow, lazy smile.
    “You ready, Bren? If I’m going to die of boredom, I don’t want to do it alone.”
    No matter how bad the day, Tyler always made her laugh. She loved his wicked sense of humor and his indifference to authority. If he did something, then it was because it made sense to him, because he believed in it, not because it was laid out in a rulebook.
    As someone who had grown up with the rulebook stuck in her face, she envied his cool determination to live life on his terms. He had a wild streak, but his downhill skiing career had fed his desire to duel with danger and provided an outlet for that excess energy. How he would have used that wild streak had he not been a skier had been the subject of endless speculation both in the village and on the world-cup circuit.
    He threw a final smile in Christy’s direction and strolled toward the meeting room, six foot three inches of raw sex appeal and lethal charm.
    Brenna followed more slowly, giving herself a lecture.
    It was the beginning of the season. She had to start as she meant to go on—being realistic about her relationship with Tyler.
    He saw her as “one of the boys.” A ski buddy. Even on the rare occasion she dressed up and wore heels and a tight dress, he didn’t look in her direction. Which might not have been quite so galling had it not been for the fact he looked at almost every other female who crossed his path.
    She had the distinction of being the one girl in Vermont Tyler O’Neil hadn’t kissed.
    In the background she heard the phone ring. Heard Christy pick it up and answer in her pitch-perfect professional voice. “Snow Crystal Spa, Christy speaking, how may I help you?”
    You can’t,
Brenna thought miserably.
No one can help me.
    She’d been in love with Tyler her whole life, and nothing she did, or he did, had ever changed that. Not even when he’d got Janet Carpenter pregnant, and she’d felt as if her heart had been sliced in two.
    She’d taken a job on another continent in the hope of curing herself. She’d dated other men in the hope that one of them would do the job, before coming to the conclusion there was no cure. Her feelings were deep and permanent.
    She was doomed to love Tyler O’Neil forever.

CHAPTER TWO
    T YLER SPRAWLED IN A chair at the edge of the room, only half listening as Jackson and Kayla gave a presentation on plans for the winter season. It was his least favorite way to spend an evening, and he had to force himself to concentrate as they flicked through slide after slide showing projected figures, visitor numbers, repeat business versus new business until after a while everything blurred, and he stopped listening, bored out of his skull.
    If he never heard the words
cash flow
again, it would be too soon.
    He should have been in Europe, studying videos with his team or discussing plans with Chas, his ski technician, whose expertise and magic with edges, overlays, wax and finishes had sliced seconds from Tyler’s time. They’d been a winning team, but it wasn’t just the winning he missed. It was the anticipation, the rush of speed, the one hundred seconds when you were right on the edge between control and out of control hurtling down the slope at speeds most people wouldn’t even reach in a car.
    It had been his life, and that life had changed in an instant.
    Fortunately, the news that his leg wouldn’t be able to withstand the forces placed on it by competitive skiing had coincided with the news that Jess was coming to live with him, so he had something else to focus on at least.
    His thoughts drifted to his daughter and the conversation they’d had earlier.
    There was no escaping the fact she wasn’t a kid anymore.
    She was a teenager.
    Everything was changing. Exactly how much did she know about his sex life? How much did she know about sex in general?
    Sweat broke out on the back of his neck, and he shifted in his chair, the discomfort almost physical.
    At