Finally, after a few minutes, I turn to face him. He looks stern, like he’s concentrating. We’re still on an abandoned road, one that I’m sure in the next couple of years will become busy and prosperous, but right now, it’s just dirt.
“How far are we going?” I ask him.
“In a rush? Someplace to be?” His voice is level, not giving away anything about how he’s feeling.
“Just dinner with some man,” I tease, trying to lighten the mood.
“Lucky guy.” Now his voice drops low, giving it a husky quality that makes my heart race.
“He is. And I’m quite lucky, too.”
I turn my head to look at him. He hasn’t said anything. He hasn’t remarked on my comment. The car has gone silent, but I see his lips twitch up.
He can’t help but smile, but his smile looks different. Kind of clay-like? Does he not smile often? It almost feels unnatural.
I don’t know Cain Archer, but from what his assistant said and the small glimpses I saw of him, I don’t think he’s emotional often. I don’t think he teases anyone around him. However, for some reason, he’s playful with me. For some reason, he smiles for me.
My belly shouldn’t go warm at that thought.
I’m here for a little less than a week, and I shouldn’t care what he thinks of me. He’s merely a story for my job. But despite that fact and the part where I keep telling myself not to care, I can’t help the flutter in my stomach at the thought that the guy might break his façade for me.
For the rest of the ride to town, we are both quiet.
It’s pitch-black out as he weaves through the endless streets.
How does he see anything? I bet he could drive with his eyes closed. He’s probably made this drive more often than one should, seeing as it’s likely a death trap for someone like me.
Then again, I live in the city, and I don’t drive very often.
It takes about fifteen minutes, give or take, before we’re making a left-hand turn, and then, like walking out of a foggy mist, lights are present for the first time on our drive.
A town.
Finally, as we pull into the small village, I see things aren’t as isolated here. This place is darling. It reminds me of a small country town. One with money but down-to-earth at the same time.
What came first?
The town or the concept?
I lean closer to my window to get a better view. “This is adorable.”
“It’s got a charm about it.”
Understatement of the year. But I imagine this man has seen the world.
“It really does. I feel like I’m in Aspen, but a more relaxed version of it. Not that I’ve ever been.” I laugh. “But I imagine this is what it’s like.”
“That’s the feeling the developers had when they built it. During the winter, the skiing is rather popular.”
The sound of the blinker echoes through the car, and then Cain maneuvers us into the space. I look out the window and notice a stone building with a red awning hanging over the window. The Chalet.
It even sounds like a restaurant that belongs on the slopes.
Now parked, I take a deep breath, mentally preparing myself for an evening with this enigmatic man. Once I’m ready, I swing the heavy door open. I’m taken by surprise as I step out because Cain is striding at a fast clip to be by my side.
Together, we walk into the restaurant on Main Street. As soon as we step inside, I smile. The restaurant looks like a ski lodge. A large, roaring fireplace is the focal point of the spacious dining space.
Surprisingly, despite it being the beginning of summer, the fire fails to warm up the place sufficiently. Maybe it’s because we are in the mountains, and the temperature outside has dipped tremendously since this afternoon.
Cain places his hand on my back, and I have to refrain from allowing myself to shiver beneath his touch as he leads us to the hostess stand, where a pretty redhead greets us.
“Mr. Archer, I didn’t expect you tonight. Would you like your normal table in the back room?”
“Yes, that would be nice and quiet. Thank you.”
When we are at the table, he drops his hand, and I miss the warmth right away. I take a seat, and when he’s across from me, a different look is on his face. It’s almost like there is a different Cain here now. A colder one. He looks at me intently. “Please, tell me about your trip up here and your thoughts after being at The Elysian for the last few hours.”
Okay. All business.
Now I feel dumb for allowing myself to linger against his touch a few seconds ago. I straighten my spine, pulling back my shoulders to appear taller.
I can do professional. “Easy drive. Longer than I anticipated but still doable. It would have helped me if the roads were marked a little better.”