Cowboys & Angels by Vicki Lewis Thompson Read Free Book Online Page B

theme song from Rawhide as they marched in single file over to the towrope. Elle wished to God she had a video camera. Those cowboys were too cute for words. And one of them, the one she’d had naked in her bed last night, was the cutest of them all.

5
    T REY COULDN ’ T SAY he was the worst skier in the bunch, but he wasn’t the best, either. Alex had done this before, so he didn’t count, but Jack Chance surprised them all. He took to skiing as if he’d been born with a ski pole in each hand. His jeans stayed dry. Figured. After all, this was Jack they were talking about.
    Trey didn’t have much natural ability for the sport, apparently, and on top of that, he spent more time watching Elle than practicing his pizza wedge and French fry moves. Clad in black ski pants and jacket, her sleek body was poetry in motion as she swerved among her students, giving tips and helping those who’d fallen.
    He and the others, including Alex, had gone down at least once. Trey had landed in the snow twice so far, and both times, just his luck, Alex had come over to help him and make suggestions before Elle could. The third time, though, Elle happened to be closer to him than Alex was. She skied in his direction, moving with grace and efficiency.
    About a yard away, she made what he’d learned was a hockey stop—a quick shift sideways with parallel skis. It created a little spray of snow and looked impressive. He wanted to learn that, but he needed to master the pizza wedge first.
    “Uncross your skis and scoot around so they’re downhill from you,” she said.
    His goggles were bugging the hell out of him, so he shoved them in his jacket pocket. Then he untangled his skis and repositioned his legs downhill of his body. In the process some snow worked its way under the hem of his jacket. Damn, that was cold. She’d been right about wet denim, too. Ski pants were looking better every second.
    Gliding toward him, she swooped down and plucked his hat out of the snow. “I’m sure you want this.”
    “I do.” He abandoned both poles so he could take it from her and brush the snow off. “Thanks.”
    “I have to admit the hats aren’t the worst idea in the world.” She pushed her goggles up and gazed at him. “They stand up to the snow and they shade your eyes.”
    “Yeah, but we’re all losing them like crazy.” He put on his hat and tugged on the brim. “The bunny slope is littered with Stetsons.”
    Her laughter made her eyes sparkle. “Next time you can tie them on.”
    “Next time I’ll wear something else.”
    “Does that mean you’re willing to try this again?” Still balanced on her skis, she crouched down beside him.
    If he attempted to do that, he would topple over. She was a superb athlete, and that turned him on. “Sure, I’ll try again. So far I pretty much suck at this, but the company’s great.”
    “What a nice thing to say.”
    “Yeah, well, I’ve been told I’m—” He paused and drew in a sharp breath as the sun emerged from behind a cloud.
    “That you’re what?”
    “It’s not important.” He gazed at her, entranced by the image that had haunted him for eight months. “You look exactly the way you did when you pulled me out of that snowdrift, except it’s the sun making the halo instead of your truck’s headlights.”
    “At least this time you don’t have a concussion.”
    “At least this time I know your name.”
    “You know a lot more than that about me, cowboy.”
    He looked into her eyes, and his pulse hammered in response to the desire he saw shining in those blue depths. “And I plan to learn a whole lot more.” He was also becoming aroused. His swelling cock pushed painfully against a layer of cold, wet cotton followed by a thicker layer of cold, wet denim. “This isn’t the best time to be having this conversation, is it?”
    Her mouth curved and she glanced down at his crotch. “Probably not. I can imagine what those wet jeans must feel like.”
    “They’re all