“I need a nap. A rest.” She pushed weakly against his chest.
“Such a dirty mind. I’m taking you somewhere else.”
“Where?”
His grin was wolfish and wicked and sexy as hell.
“Skating.”
chapter 7
He loved the way she blinked with a heavy languor and stretched out, her glorious body free from covers and open to his gaze. She practically purred with satisfaction, and the fact he gave it to her made him feel like Rocky fucking Balboa.
“I don’t understand.”
His lips twitched. “I’m taking you ice-skating. Come on, I have another set of snow pants and ski jacket.”
Those swollen lips pursed in a pout. “Outside? There’s a blizzard in case you’ve forgotten.” The ping of ice pellets against the windows tinkled in the air. Dylan pressed a kiss to her forehead and got up.
“Good, that’s the best time to see it.”
She shook her head, all that dark messy hair swinging over her bare shoulders. “I don’t know. Doesn’t seem very reasonable.” She tried to crawl back under the blanket. “I already saw the rink from the balcony.”
He laughed and reached over her, sliding out the bureau drawer. “I think you need a bit of motivation.”
“That type of motivation will keep me from walking normal tomorrow.”
“Hmm, you really do have a filthy mind. As much as I’d love to take up the challenge, I was thinking more of sugar.”
Riley peeked from under the sheets. “Sugar?”
He slid out a king-size, bittersweet dark chocolate bar and peeled back the foil. Then broke off a square. “Open up.” A shudder wracked her body. Her lips parted and he placed the chocolate on her tongue. He watched as she moaned and half closed her eyes in pleasure. Damn, the woman was so sensual. “Good?”
“Heaven. I shouldn’t be surprised you keep chocolate in the bureau. You used to hoard those snack-size Hershey’s bars. I still remember cleaning up endless wrappers in the dorm.”
He shrugged and popped a square into his mouth. “Never know when you’ll need a lift. Worked for us. Do you still eat buckets of Lucky Charms when you’re stressed?”
She stared at him with surprise. “You remember that?”
“Of course. I’d find those little bags filled with cereal around finals. You always ate the marshmallows first.”
“They’re the best part.”
They finished eating in satisfying silence. When she was done, he carefully rewrapped the bar and stuck it back in the drawer. A tiny smear of melted chocolate stuck to her lip. Dylan leaned over and kissed her, swiping the last of the sweetness on his tongue. She felt so soft and warm and willing in his arms, as if she’d always belonged there. He pulled away with regret. “Now we’re ready.” He ignored her groan, walked to the closet, and began pulling out items. “I promise it will be worth it.”
She grumbled under her breath, but he caught her half smile.
He threw a few items onto the bed and donned a pair of snow pants and a thermal shirt. “Make sure you put on the socks to keep your feet warm. Be right back.”
Feeling like a kid on Christmas, he went downstairs to the basement and took the tunnel to the mechanics room. He spent a few minutes turning on the switches and setting things up. After carefully checking all circuits, he headed back to the main house and his bedroom.
She was dressed and ready to go. Those violet eyes brimmed with curiosity, but she crossed her arms in front of the overly large jacket. “I feel like a stuffed sausage. Have I told you I’m not crazy about surprises or impulsive decisions?”
“Another item that should be in the box. You need a man to challenge you. Push boundaries. Urge you to try new things.”
“I don’t think I like skating,” she grumbled.
Damn, she looked cute. His clothes swallowed her up, but she’d be warm and dry, which was the goal. “You will. Let’s go.”
She clomped behind him in too-heavy boots, and he led her downstairs, through the darkened hallways in the secret tunnel, his gloved hand firmly enclosing hers. “Dude, if I didn’t trust you this whole thing would reek of a B horror movie set.”
“Nothing to worry about. I already ripped your clothes off and ravished you.”
“Oh yeah, cool.”
The door opened. Massive machinery hummed and buzzed, but Dylan didn’t pause. Finally, they stepped outside onto a large open terrace that was barely lit.
The whip of the wind scratched like icy fingernails against his cheeks. They ducked their heads and he increased the pace. “Just a little more.”
“It’s cold! There must be a foot already out here and it’s still not stopping. Dylan, maybe we could dump this plan and drink some hot cocoa without our clothes again because this is a bit— Oh my God.”
She stopped short. He took in the scene before him with full satisfaction. Yes. This was the reason he’d bought the park. This was what he needed to show her.
The bare trees lined the view of the hills and set off the large circular skating rink as if cradled between mother nature’s hands. Endless white lights twinkled in a vision of blinding light, twisted in the branches. A large Christmas tree gaily decorated stood in the center, a miniature version of Rockefeller Center. Christmas carols streamed from the speakers. Soft, pure white blanketed every spare inch of ground, and crusted ice threw out a thousand rays of light, like a diamond showing off in all its glory. An elaborate roof covered the main rink and gates around it, protecting the precious ice from any type of weather conditions and allowing patrons to use it during inclement weather. Sure, it cost a bundle, but Dylan believed it was worth it. He saved so much on maintenance by not needing twenty-four-hour crews keeping the rink cleaned during storms or regular snowfall.
She squeezed his fingers and her voice came out in a husky whisper. “I feel like I’m in Frozen.”
“Hmm. Not that you watch children’s movies.”
“It also won an Academy Award. Now be quiet or I’ll punish you by singing Let It Go.”
“Let’s not be hasty.” He smiled. “This is why I bought Rinker’s Park. When you visit, you believe in something bigger, something beautiful. Don’t we all need that?”
When she turned to look at him, a shift occurred. He held his breath, recognizing the crumbling of a barrier between them; recognizing the naked emotion in her eyes as confirmation. Dylan leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to her trembling lips. Then smiled.
“Let’s skate.”
They needed to hike through mounds of snow to get to the gallery where he housed the skates and equipment. She fell a few times, muttering under her breath about his crazy-ass ideas, and hung on to his hand as he dragged her through thigh-high powder. Dylan quickly fitted them with skates and led her onto the rink.
He tamped down the laughter for the first twenty minutes. Besides grabbing on to the rail and refusing to let go until she was ready, Riley frowned, muttered, and looked generally pissed off at his ability to skate perfect figure eights, backward and forward, while a few tentative tries landed her on that gorgeous backside.
Dylan enjoyed the transformation, though, when her usual stubbornness drove her forward into the middle of the ice in a sink-or-swim approach. Like most things the woman did in her life, she took the gamble.
And she swam.
He glided by her, grabbed her hand, and they hit stride. Watching fat chunks of snow surround them and ice sparkling added to the dreamy atmosphere. Dylan sunk into the moment, not needing conversation, just the presence of the woman he’d fallen in love with in an evening.
“My dad wanted a boy,” she said.
Dylan didn’t answer. A gut instinct told him to be quiet, because something bigger was happening underneath the surface and he didn’t want to jinx it. After a moment, Riley continued.