Page 3 of A Bear Ski Instructor Christmas (Holiday Shifters of Frost Mountain)

A Kiss and a Slap

There were three things Michael Malone loved more than anything else in the entire world—or at least, on Frost Mountain. He loved Christmas because it brought with it merriment and bliss. He loved the Santa costume he got to put on when Christmas rolled by because he got to spread some of that merriment to the people of Melinor.

And he loved to ski.

The wind blasted him in the face, the cold biting at his skin, a howl filling his ears as he powered down the mountain on a pair of wooden skis. He clutched his poles close to his chest, leaning forward as he rocketed through the snow. Without a helmet and goggles, wearing only a coat over trousers and fur boots, he had nothing to protect himself against an accident but his skill and wits. But Michael had cleared this hill more times than he could count. Even without his goggles, he could clearly make out his surroundings, which was the only reason he’d been able to spot the figure standing in the snow, even from a hundred feet away. As he drew closer, the figure came into focus. It was a woman. Her eyes were wide and riveted on him, like a deer caught in headlights.

Michael’s heart thudded in his ribcage. “Get out of the way!” he shrieked against the wind.

But if the woman heard him, she didn’t show it. She remained where she stood as if frozen on the spot. Definitely a deer caught in headlights. It had been a long time since he saw something like that.

“Move!” he yelled again.

Still nothing.

If she didn’t get out of the way now, he was going to crash right into her. Deer or not, she’d be flattened in an instant. One of these days, he and Andrew should come up with a way to put brakes on skis.

Digging his poles into the snow, he swerved to the right just as he reached her, missing her by a hair’s breadth. He tried to turn back on course, but it was already too late. He veered off the path, speeding right for the woods and into the trees.

“No!”

He heard a soft thud, and vibrations traveled up his skis into his legs. Michael lurched, and his world spun as he fell forward, crashing headfirst into the snow.

Great , he found himself thinking.

When he and Andrew decided to take some time off work at the craft shop to test out the new skis they’d made, the last thing he’d been expecting was to nearly bump into some stranger on the way down. Michael never had accidents while skiing. At least, he hadn’t had one in a long time.

With an inward groan, adrenaline still coursing through his veins, he pulled himself out of the snow, kicked off his skis, and got to his feet, and mentally scanned his body. He wasn’t hurt. He turned to face whoever it was that had interrupted his test run.

She was already facing him. “Are you okay?” she called out, a mixture of relief and guilt in her tone.

Michael brushed some snow out of his hair and nodded. “I’ll live. What are you doing out here? You’re not from the village, are you?”

Even before he completed his statement, he knew the answer. Nothing about the woman’s appearance indicated that she was from around these parts or from anywhere on Frost Mountain, for that matter. She had on a brown jacket over leather trousers that hugged her figure. How long had she been out here in the cold? Dressed like this, it couldn’t have been very long. Michael drew closer, carefully taking in the sight of her, and felt his heart pound again in his ribcage.

Looks like Christmas came early, Malone, said a voice in his head.

The adrenaline rush he often got from skiing down steep hills at thirty miles per hour without so much as a helmet or goggles was nothing compared to the feelings that took over his body as he gazed at the woman before him. Not even the thrill of completing an impossible stunt while Andrew and other villagers looked on held a candle to this. For a brief moment, Michael thought his heart would explode with the way it kept pounding in his ears.

The first thing he’d noticed about the woman was her slender frame. It was hard not to notice, with her leather clothing clinging to her skin, outlining the smooth curves of her rather attractive hips. Despite the cold, her skin retained a healthy creamy appearance, as if she’d stepped out into the snow only a few minutes ago. Long, jet-black hair flecked with snow fell past her shoulders. It was somewhat tousled, and Michael found himself battling the sudden urge to run his fingers through it.

Her eyes, a striking blue, seemed to pierce him to his very soul. They were almond-shaped and wide, which wasn’t unexpected for someone who’d just had a near-death experience. Staring back into them, he registered shock, terror, fatigue, confusion…and something else. His gaze slowly dropped to her lips, which were slightly parted. They were dry, either from the cold or dehydration, or both, but it took nothing away from her beauty. Her lips were full and kissable.

He cleared his throat then, giving himself a mental scolding. This woman was clearly weak and in need of help, and here he was, eyeing her like she was Thanksgiving dinner. Trying to swallow the sudden hunger that filled him, he took another step toward her, and he saw her eyes grow even wider.

“Michael?” she croaked.

He froze. She knew his name.

“What…did you just call me?” Clearly, he’d heard wrong. This beautiful stranger couldn’t possibly know who he was.

“M-Michael,” she repeated. She brushed her hair out of her face, tucking it behind a pointed ear. An elf, he realized. That explained her intense beauty.

Michael’s heart was beating an irregular rhythm in his ears. It dawned on him then what flashed in those stunning blue eyes of hers: recognition. This woman knew him. Why else would he be staring at him like he was some sort of ghost?

But…how could she know him? She wasn’t from Melinor.

“Is this…real?” she asked, lifting her fingers to her neck, where a silver necklace sat. She shook her head. “It can’t be. I’m dead, aren’t I?” A nervous laugh escaped her lips. “That explains it all. The snow, everything. I must’ve died on that plane and ended up here. This is some kind of afterlife, right?”

Despite his own shock, he could barely resist a chuckle. She certainly wasn’t from around here. “Afterlife? That’s new. You’re not dead. This is Frost Mountain.”

The blank stare he received informed him that she had no idea what he was talking about. “You mean…you’re real? Alive? I’m not imagining this?”

“Of course I’m real. I just—”

She stepped forward all of a sudden, reaching out tentatively with one small, trembling hand, her eyes locked on him. Michael’s breath froze in his throat as her fingers brushed his cheek. They were cold against his skin; he felt an electric jolt as her fingers caressed his face, but he continued to gaze back into her eyes. Was that…was it pain he saw in them?

“You’re real,” she whispered.

And then she kissed him. It happened so suddenly that Michael barely had time to react. He was instantly aware of her lips crashing against his, her arms wrapped around his neck. He started to protest, but all that left his mouth was a tiny groan, which he immediately recognized for what it truly was.

Not surprisingly, her lips were rather cool. What did come as a surprise was how soft they felt. Michael’s eyes slid shut, and he drew a breath as they kissed, inhaling a scent he didn’t recognize. It was sweet, and something about it reminded him of flowers—nothing he’d ever come across on Frost Mountain. He was suddenly aware of everything, from the tender fingers stroking the back of his head to the gentle whistle of the wind around them.

Before he knew it, his hands were on her hips as if acting on their own. He pulled her close, kissing her long and hard and deeply, loving the way she sank against him, her soft breasts pressed into his solid chest.

This is insane, he thought.

But the realization that he was allowing a total stranger to kiss him out of the blue wasn’t enough to make him put a stop to it. Against the thrill of the kiss itself, the circumstances were almost irrelevant. This certainly wasn’t how he’d expected his afternoon to go, but he wasn’t complaining.

“Michael,” she murmured against his lips. Even the sound of his name sounded like a song coming from her.

Suddenly, she pulled away. Michael had only a moment to gather his wits before she slapped him across the face.

He rubbed his cheek. “What was that for?”

“ That ,” the elfish woman snarled, staring daggers at him, “was for abandoning me at Lee Canyon three years ago.”

She wasn’t making any sense. His cheek stung where she’d slapped him, the pain somehow amplified by the cold. “What are you talking about? Lee Canyon? What’s that?”

“Don’t you play dumb with me, Michael Malone!”

Okay, she definitely knew who he was. But one second, she’d been frozen with shock, and the next, she’d kissed him. Right now, she looked like she was thinking of hitting him over the head with his skis. Michael simply gaped at her, struggling to connect the dots.

“You’re not going to say anything?” She scoffed. “After all this time? You have nothing to tell me?”

He frowned. “How do you even know who I am? Who are you?” It hadn’t occurred to him that this beautiful woman could be out of her mind, but everything that had just happened seemed to point to it. Well, except for the fact that she knew him on a first- and last-name basis, and he was pretty damn sure they’d never crossed paths before.

She lifted a carved eyebrow. “Who am I ? You’re seriously going to pretend you don’t recognize me?”

“I don’t,” came his honest reply. “I’ve never even met you before.”

For a second, he caught a flash of pain in her eyes. Then, it was gone just as suddenly, replaced with anger. “Bullshit. Do you think I’m some kind of idiot? Well, of course, you do. That’s why you disappeared that day, isn’t it?”

His frown deepened. “What are you talking about…?”

“I spent hours searching for you!” she exploded. “I couldn’t sleep that night because I had no idea what happened to you. You were just…just gone! I couldn’t concentrate for so long that I nearly lost my job. I had everyone searching for you, thinking you’d been hurt or something. You disappeared without telling anyone, without telling me . Don’t you think I deserve an apology, at least? Anything’s better than playing dumb.”

They must’ve been an item in the past—that explained why she’d kissed him. Or at least, she thought so. Michael scanned his memory desperately, but nothing about this woman came up to the surface. Perhaps cold and hunger had gotten to her.

“Look,” he told her, holding up both hands in front of him, “there’s a village just up the hill. Let me take you there. You need food, shelter, and some rest. It seems you’ve been out in the cold for too long.”

She blinked at him for a few seconds as if she couldn’t believe her ears. “Did you hear anything I just said?”

“Yes, I did.” He sighed. “Look, I have no idea what you’re talking about. I don’t know who you are or how you know my name, but it’s almost Christmas, so I’m going to try and forget that you just slapped me. What you need is some help. Frost Mountain can be difficult at first, trust me.”

The look she gave him told Michael she was seriously considering slapping him in the face again. Before she could do so, however, a yell drew their attention. They gazed up the hill in unison, just in time to spot two figures speeding down the snowy path. They drew closer and shot past Michael and his companion before slowing down. Taking off their skis, the duo marched back up the hill to meet them.

“What’s this?” one of the men said, taking a moment to look at the elfish woman. His brown eyes narrowed. “An elf. You’re not from Melinor.”

“I don’t think she’s from Frost Mountain either, Andrew,” Michael told his friend. “I nearly crashed into her on my way down. And she says she knows who I am.”

Andrew and the other man looked confused. “How could she know you? That makes no sense.”

“Exactly what I thought.” Michael shrugged. “I was just telling her to let me take her to the village. Maybe Elena or Reba could help her. We can come back and test the skis later.”

His friend’s eyes remained riveted on the woman. “What’s your name?” he asked her.

“I’m Rachel,” she replied. “Rachel Reeves.”

Rachel . Michael did another mental scan. Nope. Nothing like that in his memory. As far as he knew, he’d never met this woman. All he knew about her was that she somehow knew him. That, and the fact that despite his cheek still stinging from the slap, he wanted more than anything to feel the softness of her lips on his again.

He tore his gaze off her in self-disgust. He was either losing his mind or was sex-deprived. Both, most likely. Living on Frost Mountain, one learned to get used to the unusual over time. But this afternoon’s events had caught him completely off-guard.

He cut his eyes to Rachel again, trying hard to ignore the pounding in his chest. He wished he could say that she looked at least a little bit familiar, that something about her rang a bell in the depths of his mind, although he couldn’t quite put his finger on it, like a memory just out of his reach.

But there was simply no memory to reach for.