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4

ANNA

T he wind whips high enough to send the bells at the entrance gate to the market jangling. Max goes down on one knee in front of me again, tugging off his gloves. My heart stutters, as this pose is too reminiscent of another all-to-familiar pose from my favorite romantic Christmas movies. Stupid, soft heart. I press a hand to my chest as he makes quick work of my skates, his strong hands massaging warmth into my feet before he slides my boots back on, zipping them up for me.

No one has put my skates on for me in a long time. The last person I remember doing it was my dad, here at this very rink, when Felix and I were children and we’d come down to Vienna to visit our grandparents for the holidays. The sweet memory makes me swallow hard, my throat tight.

I love Christmas but sometimes the happiest of memories also make me sad. Max glances up at me. “All done,” he says. He leans closer, a concerned look on his face. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

I shake my head. “Nothing.” I drag in a deep breath of icy air.

Max stares at me intently for a few seconds but to my relief he doesn’t push and stands, tipping his head up. “Is it always this cold here?” He pulls his hat down over his dark waves.

“In the winter, for sure.” The designer jacket might be a bit tight, but I’m grateful for the warmth. The wind bites my cheeks, mixed with the ice pellets that are starting to fall faster. “Vienna doesn’t get much snow, so this weather is an unpleasant surprise.”

Ernst got what he needed and left some time ago, but Max wanted to keep skating. I can’t say I’m angry about it. I don’t skate all that often anymore, even though I love it. Gliding across the ice tonight was wonderful, even with Max at my side.

I bite my lip. Who am I kidding. I love skating, but I can’t remember a time when I’ve had more fun and that was because of Max. There’s something exhilarating about sparring with him, and he might be a notorious hockey playboy, but it must come easy for him, because even I can’t deny how gorgeous he is. He’s almost too much to look at.

The market is clearing out and closing early because of the weather and I sigh when I see my favorite dessert café is already closed. Hopefully, this poor weather is short-lived because Luxx really wanted some market shots in their portfolio – some potential collaboration with the city to promote tourism at this time of the year, but we’ll have to see how it works out tomorrow. I’m craving some Christmas treats to take the edge off this hunger that grows every time Max flashes that too-perfect-too-dangerous smile.

The short walk back to the hotel is really unpleasant, with the wind burning my cheeks and the ice making the sidewalks a total hazard. Snow vehicles are out, but an alert on my phone warns me to stay off the roads and I reluctantly realize I’m going to have to book a room at the hotel tonight.

As I slip my phone in my pocket, I skid, my heart jumping into my throat as I jerk, arms windmilling to try and regain my balance. Strong arms wrap around me, steadying me as if I weigh absolutely nothing.

Max is holding me, his blue eyes bright. “I’ve got you.”

You sure do. For a second I worry that I said it out loud and I release the death grip I’ve got on his arms. Thank goodness the evening is almost over. I need a break from the overwhelming magnetism of Max Walker. I thought for sure he was going to kiss me back at the rink and when he didn’t, the pang of disappointment I felt shook me to my core.

My brain knows that Max Walker is like eating too much chocolate – it’s never a good idea, but my body is like, girl, it’s going to taste so good .

“Thanks,” I say breathlessly, carefully checking my next step on the slick cobblestones.

“No problem.” Max takes my hand and I stop, but he just grins. “For both our safety until we get to the hotel.”

I don’t shake him off because he’s not wrong, it’s pretty bad out here at the moment.

Finally, we reach the hotel, and the doorman rushes out to escort us in. “Poor weather, tonight, fraulein, ” he says. “May we get you anything, sir?” he asks Max.

“I don’t think California sunshine is on the menu, but thank you,” Max squeezes my hand. “Which floor are you on?”

I realize we’re still holding hands and I pull my free. “Oh, you go ahead, I’ll have to book a room for the night.”

The doorman frowns. “I believe the hotel is full, unfortunately.”

“Doesn’t Luxx have a block of rooms?” Max asks.

“We do, but they’re full. I live close, but across the river and I’m not going to be able to get home tonight, with transportation being taken off the roads.” I sigh and roll my shoulders. I’m cold, emotional, and tired. I really just want my little studio apartment, some hot chocolate, my favorite pajamas and a Christmas movie. “You must be exhausted, Max. I’ll just go to reception and see if I get lucky.”

Max trails behind me to the counter. The clerk smiles flirtatiously at him. “May I help you, Mr. Walker?”

God, this hotel is amazing. Sophie told me they have the staff memorize all the VIP guests, even if they’re only here for a single weekend.

“She’s looking for a room,” Max flashes his trademark slow smile and I tamp down my annoyance. If his flirting gets me a room tonight, I’ll take it.

The clerk taps away. “Oh, I’m so sorry, we’re full tonight.” Her mouth turns down in sympathy. “The weather, plus the holiday tourism makes us very busy.”

I glance out the long window next to the reception. The Christmas fairytale scene has disappeared. Instead, the window is coated in ice, and I can hear the freezing sleet tapping against the glass. It’s a miserable night.

Max slides closer to me. “I have a room.”

My heart pounds. “Max, no.”

“Come on, Anna. You can’t go out in this weather and it’s just for one night. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

He tilts his head, like a mischievous dark-haired puppy and my cold heart, which was already thawing when it comes to Max Walker sweats a little bit more from the heat of his charm.

Practiced charm. I just need to keep reminding myself of that.

“You need to be here in the morning, anyway, for work.” His lips tilt up in a grin and he spreads his hands. “And I’m work, aren’t I?”

I swear I hear the desk clerk swoon. I start to shake my head again, but somehow my lips move in direct contradiction to what my brain is screaming and the word “fine” falls out of my mouth before I can stop it.