A job promotion temporarily relocates Texan Dissa Booth to Oslo, Norway where she treats herself to a weekend mountain trip. The athletic moves of her blond, blue-eyed Viking of a ski instructor, Rolf Torger, set her lustful thoughts racing. Dissa cuts loose and lets him know she’s interested in any moves he might make besides on the slopes. Will one night of sexy naughtiness be enough? Or does a chance exist for more?
Rosette (22 pages)
Rated 1 Rose
If she had to watch his rock-hard ass for a single minute longer, she would attack. With hands, lips, teeth and, most definitely, tongue.
Two days spent watching taut muscles flex and bunch under tight ski pants were more than Dissa Booth could stand. Ten feet ahead, her ski instructor, Rolf Torger, shushed through the powdery snow across the outskirts of Norway's Hardangervidda National Park.
Although the air temperature hovered at freezing, her body burned from more than the exertion of an afternoon of cross-country skiing. Her breathlessness couldn't be blamed on the elevation. At twenty-eight hundred feet, the oxygen ratio was just fine. Had to be the gorgeous man in front of her.
She tried focusing on the beautiful scenery--thick, green pines contrasted against icy-white snow, craggy peaks highlighted against a cloudless azure sky. So different than the stone and glass skyscrapers of Dallas.
Nature was pleasant enough but displayed no comparison to the fine male physique in her sights.
Rolf glanced over his shoulder and raised his goggles. "How are you doing? Need to rest?" With easy moves, he lifted his skis from the tracks and stepped beside the trail.
His blue gaze captured her and held fast. Taken individually, his features were ordinary--honey blond hair, ice-blue eyes, proud nose, strong chin. Added together, the effect was arresting--that was the only way to explain his appeal. That and the sexy lilt to his accented English.
She couldn't deny the thrum of lust flowing through her blood. "Maybe a couple minutes for a few sips of water." With less grace, she moved off the trail and unclipped her water bottle from her belt. Too many years had passed since her last skiing trip to the Rocky Mountains back in the United States.
This brief rest was a stellar opportunity. Yesterday, she'd been just one face in the group of four students. Today, she'd booked a private lesson. Better odds, but the nature of the activity didn't offer many chances for conversation. Her mind screamed for something more personal to say. "Have you been teaching long?"
"Years." He perched the goggles on the top of his head, forcing tousled hair back from his tanned face. "Since I was a teenager."
Her thoughts went to what he must have looked like at that age, and she sighed. Where was the serious businesswoman who'd left Dallas less than two weeks ago?
Her heart rate kicked up, and heat infused her skin. Was she ever! She glanced at his raised eyebrow and questioning gaze.
Oh, her shoulders sagged. He meant the skiing.
Fine, more personal sightseeing. "Right behind you."
Rolf leaned his broad shoulders against the handles of his ski poles. "On this last stretch, you are taking the lead. You need to get a feel for gauging the trail yourself."
"Oh." Disappointment ran through her, then panic. Now, he'd be staring at her ass. She positioned her poles, leaned forward and shoved her skis back into the track. Why was she worried? He hadn't shown a flicker of sexual interest. "Sure, I can do that."
As long as she kept her butt clenched all the way back to the Dagali Hotell. With opposite arm and leg, she planted a pole and kicked off on her glide.
His skis crunched behind her. "Now I can enjoy the view."
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